Bitching about Facebook

Newsfeed   I should just read updates from my  nearest and dearest – but that’s like a trip to a quiet and predictable country pub. Instead I’m lured into the noisy soulless four-floor dance club up the road, aka generic newsfeed,  where every hustler, spammer, scammer and Me-Me-Me!-merchant on the planet is out on the razzle.

Everything’s transparent except the people who run the show.     Why can you view the previous draft of an edited comment? And why preserve “important” moments like  Kathy Freeman picked her nose on July 7th 2010 (with Google map)  for eternity? Why is s-o-o-o-o hard to delete emails?    If Facebook was a building, all bathrooms would have massive clear glass windows.  With complex instructions on fitting the blinds  in an inaccessible cupboard with a missing key.

Get a life!   Why use it?    1) I need to network   2) It’s  addictive. Like many facets of communication today it  ruthlessly fragments my attention, rendering me comfortably numb to the everyday pain that life can bring. And sadly numb to its pleasures.


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