If there’s one thing I hate more than burning my potatoes when I’m trying to create an awesome breakfast moment with a lady I met the night before, it’s Hashable, the application that lets users flaunt their social connections by broadcasting updates on their every encounter.
For example: If I were to lurk outside the Union Square Ventures office waiting to spot Fred Wilson and then I dove into a cab and yelled at the driver to “FOLLOW FRED WILSON’S CAR!”–and then raced after him down the NJTP and chatted Fred up in the bathroom at the Vince Lombardi Service Area, and we clicked, then what I would do with Hashable (besides tell Fred it’s a dumb idea and he shouldn’t have invested in it) is I would type “Just #stoodnextto @FredWilson at a #urinal at a rest stop off the Jersey Turnpike :).”
And I would do this because Hashable keeps track of all the times I talk to some guy in the bathroom or someplace else. Plus, I get a “hash cred,” which is like those corny “badges” Foursquare generously doles out (because they are imaginary) and my Hashable ranking goes up. Look out, Gary Vaynerchuck (#85)! I’m coming for you. Just kidding, I’m not. Hashable is stupid.
It is designed for one purpose: to exploit the social anxieties of insecure weaklings.
It does this by turning human interaction into a quantifiable game with winners and losers. The problem is, to be a “winner” at this dumb game, you have to be the type of chucklehead who’d ever want to play it in the first place.
Turns out there are plenty of insecure people with smartphones. Something like 400 of them attended Hashable’s VIP party down in Austin at “South By.” At this “invite-only” event, they set up a VIP section within the VIP party! Apparently, in Hashable founder Michael Yavonditte’s fevered mind the whole world is a series of concentric VIP sections one must navigate, only to encounter Mikey Yavo himself standing guard over the last velvet rope informing anyone who makes it that far, “Sorry bro, you’re not Hashable enough.”
Because face it, you’re never going to have as much hash cred as him. Wait, stop crying. I know it hurts, but you’ll feel better once you accept that your social skills are subpar. Then you can finally stop trivializing real-world encounters by exploiting them for dubious prestige awarded by a company whose mascot is a smiling octothorpe that dresses up like a cowboy.
Believe it or not, Hashable started out as an even lamer idea–some kind of finance-oriented app called Trackt. Then the company pivoted (“pivot” is start-up talk for “try to make something that’s at least a little less stupid than what you originally made”). Here’s an idea, Hashable. How about next time you just pivot yourself right off a cliff and spare us your childish, syrupy social-networking nonsense.
Grow up, you babies.
Previously: Abolish South by Southwest!