Fact : The social-media ‘meshworks’ that we bind a part of our lives to, are becoming rapidly real-time, living Museums of our Everyday Lives.
These ‘meshes’ coupled with the lives and experiences of everyone we know (and sometimes don’t know!) are social artifacts of a very personal micro- and macro-nature . They are a dynamic testament of our ‘zeitgeist’. We, the social-networking generation, will leave behind a far richer, more vivid record of our lives than our predecessors. Our way of dealing with memories, remembrance and nostalgia will also change dramatically in the years to come.
As we post and upload our experiences on these platforms, thoughts like ‘what happens to all this data when we die’ are natural.

Recently I read a blog post by Bruce Sterling on his blog (Beyond the Beyond, Wired), about a Facebook form that dealt with Death. I found this addition very interesting.
The page excerpts from Facebook are – “IMPORTANT: This form is solely for the reporting of a deceased person to memorialize the person’s account. Memorializing the account removes certain sensitive information and sets privacy so that only confirmed friends can see the profile or locate it in search. The Wall remains so that friends and family can leave posts in remembrance. Please note that unrelated inquiries through this form may not receive a response.”
In a bizarre co-incidence, while writing this article, I read this article on TIME magazine’s website which convinced me that my thoughts were not entirely a ramble.
“We understand how difficult it can be for people to be reminded of those who are no longer with them, which is why it’s important when someone passes away that their friends or family contact Facebook to request that a profile be memorialized,” Facebook’s head of security Max Kelly said in a recent blog- post.
These articles and recent discussions with colleagues over lunch inspired me to complete writing what had been an empty draft (thought) in my blog for over a month. The discussion we were having was about hating/liking Facebook – a subject that is probably discussed all over the World with much intensity – led me to think about the merits of an ‘Offline Facebook’.
The idea of a ‘digital-diary’ – a confidential treasure-trove of memories and experiences documented over time – is not new. It has been blogged about and discussed by people far more qualified than myself. My thoughts emanate from the universal and inevitable march toward ‘real-time’ social networking. I am provoked by events like Google Wave, and all other similar endeavors including my own attempt as a MA student – Chameleo.
I am a social-networking glutton. I have over 1,000 ‘friends’. I share experiences frequently in order to get a glimpse of those of Others. Simple.
Sadly, I hold very few dear to me. Probably even fewer that I truly ‘follow’ and empathize with on a daily basis. I post updates, share, and consume the interesting people in my Life – their likes, dislikes, comments and experiences.
This thought is more about those who don’t want to be a part of this cycle of ‘post and consume posts’. This idea is aimed at people who don’t want to be stripped bare of their experiences and everything they cherish, by posting updates about it.
How can the social mesh-works that we use in our World adapt or tweak its settings to accommodate people who are more wary of ‘real-time’ and want to keep things personal and private? How could we create a digital-artefact that grows slowly, over time into a museum that would only be visible to a handful of near and dear ones.
Imagine this fictional post -
Oct.20, 2015 – John Macintosh’s ‘cloud-tablet’ indicates an incoming package.
On accepting it he finds his friend Ben’s ’Offline Journal’ with the following message written by hand. ‘Hi John – I added you to my Offline Journal ages ago because I wanted you to have this someday. Hope you will cherish this as much as I enjoyed documenting it. I’m sorry I never joined you on Facebook through these years. I wanted only a few people who I hold most dear to me to have this Journal.’
The Journal contained daily occurrences in his life since 2000 which he documented carefully, but never published. As John swipes through the various chapters, his eyes stream with tears as he immerses himself into deeply personal and vivid moments through his Father’s eyes. It was like unveiling a curtain on a past that had never been spoken nor shared. It was an immeasurably moving experience. And it was exactly like Facebook, only – never published. Never seen nor shown. Events as they occurred with reflections, recollections, pictures and tags – all unveiled at the right time, and place.
John can see who else received this Offline Journal. It makes him part of a truly unique group of people who were loved in a very special way by his Father during his lifetime.