I’m a duck-faced chillah

It’s one of life’s major decisions: new and hip or classic and cool? To join the herd of “kids these days” or indulge in counter culture-esque defiance, basking in the hipster street-cred it yields?

Nowhere in my life has this eternal struggle been more relevant than last summer. I was pestered by more technologically advanced coworkers who seemed to stop at no lengthy sigh or eye roll in their attempts to proselytize the less-cultured. This time the technology under discussion begged the question, do I stay cool like Ghostface Killah, or hip like Ghostface Chillah?

Of course, I’m talking about Snapchat. Snapchat, with its shady upbringing in racy photos of half-naked teens or worse, full-naked weirdos. Snapchat, with its clear emphasis on the selfie and blatant vanity. Snapchat, not only quirky enough to have a ghost for a mascot, but also quirky enough to name it “Ghostface Chillah” in honor of the Wu-Tang Clan member Ghostface Killah. Obviously, I didn’t get the hype.

It felt glib and shallow and, well, kind of stupid. I already waste most of my time on Facebook, so why would I want to exacerbate my anti-productivity? I felt like this was a solid argument. My relentless coworkers and unsympathetic computer, however, did not.

According to the New York Times, the app could be “a much more intimate way to communicate with friends” because “the emotional weight of the content is heavier ... messages are direct and personal.” And, moreover, according to only the most reputable research published on Yahoo Answers, the app could be “fun if you snapchat the right people :).” I assume I am not one of those “fun” people, although if I were a sexually budding tween I think I’d like the look of that smiley face.

Praise from credible and not-at-all credible sources alike, in collusion with external pressures (cough cough, pushy friends), finally piqued my interest. I downloaded Snapchat and decided to try it out for at least a week. If it felt like a waste of time I’d scratch it, sort of like how I scratch all of my bad habits, but if it felt beneficial in some substantial way, I’d keep it. Fair.

My first day with the app feels forced. I quickly realize I’m bad at making duck faces and drawing self-defacing doodles with my fingers. I get better when the visual pun battle begins, but I still lose to the seasoned professionals of technology.

I need to get better, so I do what any pansy would do: read up. A few of the statistics surprise me. Seventy-seven percent of college students use or have used the app. With 100 million active users and 400 million snaps per day, only 12 percent of snaps are shared with multiple people. I also learn that roughly 70 percent of Snapchat users are females, which doesn’t really surprise me. And besides, I may be the only male who subscribes to theSkimm, so it’s something I’m used to.

Soon the excitement of a successful conversion wears off and I start receiving snaps that aren’t solely weirdness. I also begin to use the app in ways I hadn’t thought of before -- not to send stupid selfies to my friends, but to send great selfies to other friends, those who I wouldn’t otherwise be able to see.

I found that my communication improved tenfold, mostly because communication now took practically zero effort. Snapchat is easy and mostly risk-free. Embarrassing photos will disappear. Shame will evaporate. And as long as the snap feels personal and is sent to few recipients, the face, duck-shaped or not, will look and feel good on the other end.

There’s something liberating in the ephemeral and something powerful in the visual, and I think Snapchat’s found them. Newfangled communication made easy is worth a degrading selfie or two.