Somewhere between Sunday night (March 29) and early Monday afternoon, thousands of social media users changed their profile pictures to splashes of turquoise blue and trending #TIDALforALL simply because their music faves (like Beyonce`, Nicki Minaj and Kanye West) did it and/or told them to. People were literally talking of revolutions, movements and change, knowing nothing more than Jay-Z purchased a music streaming service from a Swedish company called Aspiro (which technically was underway back in January). Some didn't even know that much. That was the first eye-roll I had for this news; people are so quick to bandwagon. They knew nothing, but were on board. Groupthink, blind allegiance and stupid human behavior aside, I looked forward to hearing more because given the acquisition and who was involved, I assumed TIDAL would be an awesome, artist-friendly answer to similar services like Spotify, that have been criticized for giving a severely small financial return to the artists they feature (I was partially right, but more on that in a moment). Heightening the hype was this dramatic, star-studded trailer (a freaking trailer; one that seemed ridiculous after the so-called roll-out), building up to the March 30th press conference where all would be revealed and all questions would be answered. We were on the cusp of  "turning the tide and making music history;" it was "the beginning of the new world," as West touted on Twitter. We all know how Yeezy can exaggerate.

Then, a funny thing happened on the way to innovation. Funny as in weird, not funny haha. Jay-Z and his Justice League of recording artists (including Madonna and Rihanna) signed a declaration (that no one saw the text of), said little and then dipped. The conference was short and horribly bereft of information. The central additional thing we learned was that TIDAL is artist-owned (equity stake was offered) and "combines the best high fidelity sound quality, high definition music videos and expertly curated editorial" for $9.99 and $19.99 (for uncompressed CD quality sound) a month. So...does every subscription dime go to the artists? Is there a significant difference in audio between the subscription options? How large is TIDAL's catalog? Who shot J.R.? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a lollipop? Hardly anything was answered and based on what was told, TIDAL was a shockingly unremarkable, more expensive (a negative consumer buzz word) service. "The new world" was a duplicate of the old one, except artists (who so happened to be wealthy) benefitted more this time and consumers (who aren't wealthy) would have less money in their wallet should they break away from pirating and free streaming. Finance and technology blogs pointed out the unoriginal interface and what seemed to be a flawed business model (using  the word 'seemed' because, again, few details) where audience gains would be few and the company's bottom line is just as weak as its competitor's (Jay-Z's response to this is interesting; I'll be getting to it). Just as critical, but far more cutting was the reaction from consumers. Due to the piss-poor presentation of the conference, Jay-Z and crew came off like a bunch of elitist, arrogant, greedy millionaires begging for more money at the expense of fans. #TidalForAll quickly became #TidalForNoOne on social media; people were throwing tomatoes and the well-intentioned "movement" where artists get the income they deserve from their own work in the streaming world versus industry executives and suits, was massively misperceived. 

Catfish aren’t as evil as you might think.

If you keep up with pop-culture news at all or have young people living in your home, you’ve probably heard the term “catfish” used in a way that doesn’t exactly reference a sea creature. In lingo, a “Catfish” is someone who willingly falsifies all or part of their identity while interacting with others online, often through social media (like Facebook or Twitter) or dating services (ex. Match.com). One of the more high-profile instances of this was with college football star Manti Te’o, who claimed he fell in love with a Leukemia-ridden woman online and it proved to be a hoax (unfolding countering details of his story caused some to accuse Te’o of lying all together, but that’s beside the point). The January 3rd episode of “Dr. Phil” focused on catfishes from Africa who scam women for money. Photographer Nev Schulman gained national attention when he filmed a 2010 documentary about his experience being catfished that subsequently became a hit series for MTV (entitled “Catfish: The TV Show”), in which he helps others meet (and in some cases, expose) their elusive acquaintances. Some episodes conclude sweetly and the 2 people involved still end up together, but majority end ugly in heated arguments and broken hearts. Catfish are widely viewed as vile manipulators, but I think this is a giant misconception. Yes, there are plenty who intentionally scam and/or deceive others for sport (ex. bullying or pranking) or personal gain (ex. money and gifts), but I contend that most are everyday people who got in over their heads in a unique situation.

The internet is a customizable alternate universe. You can block out or absorb who and what you want. Don’t like your environment or the people around you? You can easily find those you’d consider more appetizing or those that have common interests without even trying. I blinked and I had a whole slew of people who battle with depression, just like me, following my Tumblr page. I assume they found me by searching “depression” or associated terms. Feel like you can’t express yourself freely? Feel like you have to censor yourself because of who’s reading and watching? Start anonymous account. Depending on the forum, no one ever has to see your face, hear your voice or even know your name. Particularly for misfits, the web can be the place where they finally are a rock-star. Able to accentuate certain parts of their personality or thinking, (because again, it’s a customizable universe) they can be recognized for being funny or talented, as opposed to “weird” or “uncool.” I follow a Twitter account that posts sarcastic jokes. It has thousands of followers. The person(s) behind it may not have a single friend in their daily life, but online, they’d be considered popular. For a lot of individuals, the digital space is an escape where they can be themselves, who they want to be or what they wish they were.  The person who throws up a fake picture, name or career is likely doing it because A) they’re using a medium where a visual is expected, like Facebook, and/or B) they’re afraid of being assessed and judged. People in their daily world look down on them, so why wouldn’t you?

Here’s how one of these online snowballs can form. Let’s say, for example, a guy named Greg is a gamer and he meets Sarah (very pedestrian names, huh?) on a message board. For a while, the two talk about games, cheating secrets and such. Then one day, Greg sees Sarah’s online; he doesn’t have anything game-related to talk about, he’s just bored or wants to say hello. They carry on a casual conversation and realize they have several things in common; maybe they’re from the same place or of the same culture. Now, their communication pattern includes games and personal things. They have quite the chemistry and the flirtatious energy is even more noticeable on the phone, as Greg asked to swap phone numbers. Sarah wants to exchange pictures. Greg freezes; he has a severe acne-problem and is worried Sarah will be grossed out and won’t be interested anymore. He takes a photo of an acquaintance and sends it to her. The pair have gotten to talking every day and the interest is growing.