youtube boob
written by Ophira Eisenberg (July/Aug 07)
Like every other living breathing person, I spend hours a day on my computer, mostly clicking Send and Receive. You could say I have a web presence. If I’ve accomplished anything in my life so far, it’s that I am google-able; not something everyone from my high school can say (not that I spend time googling everyone who wrote “stay in touch!” in my yearbook). I have a website, a blog, and a myspace page; all created with the idea that these tools will help promote my stuff and ultimately translate into gigs and cash. Everyone says, “Get your comedy clips up on YouTube! Put it on YouTube! Watch it on YouTube! Without something on YouTube you are Nothing!!!”
I know comedians who have gained much from their YouTube presence. Dane Cook or not, they have gathered new fans that follow them to gigs, new connections with an audience that was formally unable to see them live, but now can easily enjoy their brilliant performances, in-between watching videos of pets on skateboards. Not to be left behind, I took a couple sets and uploaded them. As soon as I did it, I felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. I began to fantasize about my life changing because of this simple act. All I had to do now was sit and wait for the fans and cash to start rolling in. Right?
A few weeks passed and nothing changed. I thought I should go to YouTube and check on my video. Maybe something was wrong with it and that’s why I’m not famous right now. I searched for my video and saw that I had 59 views and a rating of 4 out of 5 stars! Incredible! I was so pleased with myself. Clearly, the e-world had started to discover me and voted. I had made it into the 80th percentile. I was sure that 59 views would soon become 59,000.
But a few weeks later, when I noticed again that no new fans were stalking my every move, I decided to cheer myself up and return to YouTube. At least I could gaze at my four star rating for a few minutes. That’s when I found something highly alarming. 123 people had watched my video but my rating had fallen to 3 out of 5 stars! Who were these bastards rating me? People who hate stand-up comedy? Women? The combination? Ex-boyfriends? Enemies?
I needed to take matters into my own hands. I had to outwit the internet, so I decided to get devious. Why couldn’t I rate myself? I could fix this problem and change my average score. It would be too obvious if I rated myself with my own user profile so I needed to create some fake email addresses.
I navigated to the Yahoo! homepage and clicked on Sign Up. Forgetting the key to getting away with a lie is to not go into too much detail, I indulged in my phony internet profile. My email address was for a man in his early 40s. His name is Matthew, but he goes by Marty; a nickname that just stuck since he was a kid. He grew up in Chicago, but now prefers Providence, RI. Well, that’s where he’s working now, building sets for plays - no movies. Wait, there are no movies that shoot in Providence. Okay . He works in architecture! Yes! He’s an architect. Fine. He hates celebrity journalism. Loves Greek food even though he’s on a low carb diet right now…well ever since the divorce. He’s thinking of getting a dog, not a small one, maybe save a greyhound. That might be his birthday present to himself – his birthday being May 7th, 1967. And he loves my stand-up. He thinks I’m hilarious and smart and my brand of hilarity speaks to him specifically. He came across my video on YouTube after becoming addicted to watching stand-up comedy shows on TV and now Marty1967@yahoo.comwants to give me 5 out of 5 stars.
After creating Marty in yahoo.com, I found that I had to register again in YouTube in order to have the ability to rate a video. So I went through that process: create a YouTube profile, get a confirmation email with a password in yahoo, then go back to YouTube and sign in and navigate to my video. Hours of time were evaporating. Finally, I arrived at the moment where Marty was ready to change my life.
I looked at the five outlined stars, ready for Marty to award me five big red ones. I don’t know why I thought that the way to do this was the click the amount of stars you want one by one, and I started clicking away and somehow accidentally gave myself, two stars!!! Two stars! That’s what Marty, the architect from Providence, the idiot, gave me. Two fucking stars. And there is no way to change it. I stared at the computer screen in HORROR at my mistake. What did you do to me Matthew! You cemented my average to three stars! After blinking at the screen for a few more minutes in a panic trying to figure out if I could reverse time, I started laughing a little. Alone in my room, in front of my monitor, I started laughing. Laughing alone, by the way, equals crazy. And that’s what I was, crazy with the idea that my rating on YouTube was going to harshly affect my entire life. Taking matters into my own hands and lying and cheating my way to the top of YouTube had only made things worse. It was me, ME! who rated myself two out of five stars for god sakes. And somehow the clock now read 6pm.
It was time to back away from the mouse and go back to working on my set…and my self esteem. I told my boyfriend what happened and what an idiot I was and he responded by expertly disabling the rating system on my video in YouTube. While shaking his head saying, “You just can’t handle it.” Oh I can handle it, I just can’t handle Marty.
To find out where Ophira is performing, visit OphiraEisenberg.com