Much to my surpise, the Human Facebook Project is almost a month old. And in blog years, that’s a long time.
It’s such a long time that we’re doing the Internet equivalent of a clip show, and looking back on what worked and why the site still exists after all this time.
Some 2,500 people have visited, and a few have even signed up for e-mail subscriptions (on the side rail).
To recap: the idea is to call, meet or e-mail Facebook friends and ask them about themselves. Then, post a blog entry. Easy. I knew it would be kind of interesting, but what has surprised me is the depth of the interview subjects and their willingness to open up completely.
Here are the Top Five entries so far, as judged by unique traffic. Of course, some have been up longer than others so this is in no way scientific.
- A dying husband, imminent twins: Mya talks about what it’s like to lose your husband to cancer, while you’re pregnant with twins.
- An attempted suicide, a delicate recovery: Heather talks about the fragility of the human mind.
- The stressy existence of a professional page turner: Liz talks about turning pages of sheet music for the pros.
- What it’s like to be a 14-year-old girl: Meg explains that girls just want to have fun.
- An artist who makes money with art: Sarah on what it takes to be a professional artist.
Meanwhile, the main search term used to find the blog has been “human facebook.” Others have been more bleak – how to kill yourself, dealing with death on facebook, help for depression and giant barbecue rib steak each appeared once on the “incoming search term” page.
There’s even been some media. Natalie Zutter writes on Ology.com that Ladurantaye’s project makes me want to do a better job of seeing my friends outside of the computer screen, and a few newspapers have been in touch.
Meanwhile, I spoke with Jessica Samuels at 1150 AM in Kelowna today about the project. The audio can be found at the bottom of this post.
So we’ll keep going. More posts, more friends. Maybe we’ll roll in some audio, and maybe we’ll throw it open to contributions. Or, maybe it’ll die of old age at the ripe old age of three months. You just never know.