I sometimes fantasize about what I’d say to an ex boyfriend of mine if given the chance. Something cool and caustic that causes a rush of feelings like a gust of wind unhinging a screen door and sweeping through a home, letters and magazines falling to the floor. The words would be heartfelt and appropriate, maybe even lyrical.
A new website now allows people to send ex lovers/friends/anyone lovelorn messages in the form of Justin Bieber lyrics.
For only a dollar, Bieber Bomb will send the person of your choice texts from an anonymous phone number for twelve hours, using only lyrics from the Biebs’ songs like “Baby,” “What Do You Mean?” and “As Long as You Love Me.” Anyone wishing to see the person’s response (uh, everyone) can pay two dollars for the “Sneak Attack” option that will send you the text conversation.
The creator’s of Bieber Bomb already have other lyric-fueled text assaults in development. The Adele Attack promises to be the most soul-crushing (and catchy) in the arsenal.
“I’ve forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet” is certain to make even the most callous of exes shudder.
Whether you’re trying to rekindle the ashes of a former flame, or piss off your friends, it’s an interesting form of communication.
Sam Slaughter takes on the myriad methods of communication on our phones this week in an article for the New York Times, and notices how we’ve developed ways to have one-on-one conversations on very public platforms. It’s not uncommon to have conversations in the comment section of a celebrity’s Instagram feed, for example.
In many ways, doing so seems safe. We tag a lover in a photo on Facebook or Instagram to relay sentimentality instead of saying it outright. When scorned, we use the lyrics to pop songs to anonymously send our lovers instead of using our actual words.
I’m not sure if we’ve been conditioned to conceal thoughts that don’t align with the brands we’ve so meticulously curated for ourselves online, or if we’ve subscribed so strictly to the idea that the person who cares the least has the upper hand that we actually believe it -- almost. But if we’re going out of our way to tag people in photos on arbitrary Instagram accounts, or paying to have lyrics anonymously sent to someone, there’s clearly some level (a great deal, I’d argue) of care still lingering.
For as many direct forms of contact that are available at the click of a screen or tap of an iPhone, we seem to go out of our way to make round about implications to people at the forefront of our thoughts.
I had an ex subtweet me for a few weeks before finally (at last!) unfollowing me on Twitter. We had the breakup conversation many times before, but it didn’t feel finalized until we were officially removed from each other’s newsfeeds. It was an interesting experience because I registered not only the loss of the relationship, but also how our words -- the ones I had valued so dearly -- were rendered meaningless. The tear-stained conversations over Facetime didn’t mean anything, but the passive aggressive tweets sure as hell did. Bits of our relationship were scattered like ashes for public display on songs and social media, and it took me a while to realize we wouldn’t rise together again like a phoenix. At some point, you accept sparking new flames.
I’m all for practical jokes, but sending anonymous smoke signals via texts to an ex seems unnecessary and uncomfortable, like a joke no one laughs at. Sometimes things ought to be left unsaid (and unsent) in the accelerated speed of relationships facilitated by multiple forms of direct and indirect communication, and it seems to take us all a while to finally get the message.