I understand that there is an evolutionary process to life, nothing stays the same, but when it comes to the social media giant, I’ve had enough. Facebook should be renamed Faceplant. It is the antithesis of my life and it’s falling flat on it’s face with me.
Consider the lexicon we have come to use thanks to Facebook. Statements like”I read my wall this morning.” Is it me or does that sound like I’m in a cheap gas station bathroom? 75% of all the posts I get on “my wall” lately, seems to offer me some social cause I could care less about. “Save the asthmatic aardvark” if you agree, forward this to all your friends.” What’s my penalty if I don’t?
In my opinion, Facebook should be updates on family happenings not controversial social causes. It should be vacation pictures not political punditry and flame-throwing analysis. Yes, as a matter of fact I do love the Lord, but do I have to forward that I love Him to 300 friends otherwise He won’t believe me? I don’t want to argue why you chose to be a member of the Bi-monthly Universal Seven-day Bible Thumping Church of Laodicean Vegan Apostates. Save that for my next visit in your home. Or better yet, choose to live your sermon instead of typing it out and putting a damper on my information highway rest stop.
I have seen pictures of bedraggled dogs, abused pets, displaced owls, splattered motorcyclists, beat up housewives, all accompanied with the caption, “forward this picture if you’re against this.” Excuse me, but I’m against dirty diapers, I don’t need a picture to remind me why?
On the other hand, I find Facebook cringe worthy when friends post odd statements such as; I lost my nose in a pet ferret attack. My quandary is, if I don’t want to comment, wouldn’t hitting the “Like” button appear just a tad bit callous?
I am aware that many of my acquaintances have uncontrolled yearnings in asking me for farm equipment, animals, crops and gaming slots. I wonder what my friends would have said if years ago I’d hounded them by mail every week with requests for Lego’s, marbles and monopoly money?
Additionally I find it a bit creepy to have a complete stranger send you a request that says, “I want to friend you?” and they look like a homeless person from Sheboygan. It gives me the same feeling I had as a 10 year boy being offered candy by a stranger in a trench coat.
So if I don’t take the friend request, skip forwarding the lucky leprechaun, or fail to protect the Double Breasted Red-Bellied Hickenlooper, what is really going to be my fate?
I don’t know, but to be sure if I were you, I’d pass this article on to at least ten friends lest a band of angry midgets with Napoleon Complex assault your knee caps with ball pein hammers.