Facebook

I have recently acquired a Facebook account. I think it’s called an account, it doesn’t cost anything and it doesn’t generate or achieve increasing value that I’m aware of, but I did have to give some personal information to the internet Gods to get it, so we’ll go with account for now.
Considering the fact that I turned 40 this year, I realize that my participation in this…thing…is not only of little interest to the majority of the youngsters who truly appreciate it, but may be in fact insulting its very purpose. That purpose being the…well, the phenomenon of…I suppose it’s a networking…tool? What the hell is it? Forget for a minute why I did it, I’m going to get into all of that and defend my decision for a man my age to belong to a…site? Page?...database, I guess, that doesn’t really want or need me there. I’ll get to all that. But I need to first figure out the point. Do you meet people on it? That seems unlikely, because it seems to be set up to ensure that you are only “friends” with people you already know. That’s cool, so it helps you keep in touch with people who clearly have email accounts that could easily be used for the same thing, in fact more easily I think…

Tell you what, I’m gonna put that discovery session on the back burner for a time and not make this about everything I don’t understand about Facebook, but rather what it is I enjoy about it:

I like…looking at it.

I have friends there, with pictures of themselves. They comment to each other and I am notified when they do. So I look at it to know that people I know are communicating with each other and I feel good about the fact that many people I know like each other. That’s good. I look at it to see who recently completed a quiz about cartoon characters and the pants they wear and find that my co-worker Dan who has an office across the hall from mine got 74% right on that quiz, narrowly topping my sister Amy’s 68% correct on the same. So now I know that. Good to know where my family name stands in the universe.

I look some more and see that a girl I don’t really know, but whose husband I have met twice, has announced that she is “…out of town in Rhode Island until Wednesday and misses her cat.” My immediate reaction to these public postings of “what are you doing right now?” that everyone is encouraged to update every 30 seconds, is that I want to respond to the statement, saying something like “Have fun in Rhode Island, and don’t worry, cats can live for like a week just drinking out of the toilet in case your husband is accidentally killed while you’re away.” You know, something comforting to someone obviously crying out for reassurances. But then I realize that these statements aren’t really set up for response, nor are they posted with that intent. It’s like a way for everyone to spray paint whatever is on their mind onto a common wall for everyone else to see and acknowledge, and then essentially do nothing about. I can dig that.

So Facebook is basically a database where people post personal information about themselves, with a picture or 10, and constantly update their personal statements to let everyone know where they are and what mood they are in. I’m guessing the several billion members of Facebook are definitely not the same people who complain about Bush’s bill to wiretap and eavesdrop on phone calls and emails, right? Because the more I look at this thing, and look at it and look at it and try to figure out what it is I’m supposed to do with it, the more it occurs to me what the point of all this sharing really is; this is our young people, performing their most patriotic of duties, saying to Homeland Security, “Hey, I know your job is tough, and I support you. Here is everything you need to know about me without you having to invest a lot of time and resources looking for it. It’s all right here on my Facebook. And apologies to Dick Cheney for beating his cartoon quiz score, but come on Dick, Porky Pig doesn’t wear pants! LOL, and God bless America.”