Alice Gould can barely finish the acronym ‘BNOC’ without bile rising in her mouth. Since when did balancing a tiny ‘COMMES des FUCKDOWN’ beanie on the tip of your head become a socially acceptable thing to do? And what the hell was with ‘The Harlem Shake’? Alice doesn’t get it.
It’s not an addiction which has an obvious effect on your health – like fags, heroin or Sunny D – but you can’t deny it, every student seems to suffer from an eternal need to slavishly check their social media accounts. We don’t need to sit in a circle in a small public room to admit we’re addicted to Facebook though. In fact it’s quite the opposite – any person who doesn’t spend at least an hour a day flicking through irrelevant pictures of “friends” they actually hate are usually the ones considered weird. Not having a Facebook profile is the social equivalent of wearing a full scuba diving suit to lectures.
I might be one of the 1,110,000,000 monthly active facebook users (yeah, research – be proud), but there are some things that I really do not get:
1. I do not want to play FarmVille. I do not want to play CityVille. I do not want to play CastleVille. In fact – as a general rule of thumb, if it ends with Ville I don’t want to play it. I don’t want to open my laptop and get excited that I have 15 notifications, all of which are asking for virtual ingredients so you can go bake virtual cakes. USE AN OVEN. I mean – if you literally have nothing better to do than cultivate your Facebook garden then okay – but the world does not need to know every time you harvest wheat.
Not having a Facebook profile is the social equivalent of wearing a full scuba diving suit to lectures
2. If there is a god, I doubt they judge who is worthy of eternal salvation by looking at what photos you’ve shared on Facebook, and which you have scrolled straight past. On a similar note – I’m not sure that just because I failed to like an image, someone is going to die/I therefore hate my mother/a little girl is going to crawl out of a mirror and kill me. Chain letters are bad enough, without me having to be guilt tripped every time I log on.
However the worst thing about facebook is the people. That may sound slightly cynical – not all of them. Just most.
Imagine for a second if normal conversation followed everyday life. If people just walked up to you and shouted “LIKE!” if they were amused by what you were doing. Or if people spoke in the random, mundane way that statuses appear on my news feed:
“Should probs stop eating skittles now…starting to feel a bit sick…” Thanks for that monumental life update. Whatever would I do without that insightful piece of knowledge?
Facebook should have a dickhead-o-meter.
Facebook should include a warning on people’s timeline so you know whether to add them or not. A dickhead-o-meter. It would be rated from 1 to people who don’t say thank you when you hold the door open for them. You could look at where they are positioned on the scale and work out whether or not it’s worth it to add that girl you spoke to at Ocean last night.
I could never give it up though. I get way too much happiness from looking at pictures of funny cats and stalking my old school friends to see if they’ve got fat.
Image: Boltron via Flickr