Why Can’t We Be Friends

Last week, I got briefly excited when Vice-President Kamala Harris sent me a Facebook friend request.

About damn time! I thought.

Alas, it was not Kamala Harris, but Karen Harris.  Or, more accurately, Harris Karen.  I don't actually know whether this lady's first name is Karen or Harris because, you see, I don't know this lady.  Based on the length of her Friends' list--which at last check stood at zero--I surmise that nobody knows this lady.  It's almost as if . . .  she doesn't actually exist!

Too bad really.  She seems kind of interesting.  She's a Bitcoin miner in Austin, TX.  She might be able to answer some of my burning Bitcoin questions! Also, on the day she sent me her friend request, she also got married!

So, while I didn't accept the friend request, I would like to issue my heartiest congratulations to Harris and her beau.  Given the fact that one of the first things she did on her wedding day was to friend-request a stranger two-thousand miles away, I predict a long and happy marriage.

The False Fire This Time

Look, Facebook can ban whomever they want.  People screaming about First Amendment violations are either missing the point, ignorant about what the First Amendment is, or both.  The First Amendment just keeps the government from restricting free speech--except when it doesn't.  The First Amendment says nothing about whether private businesses can limit their customers' ability to express themselves.  Indeed, if someone stood on a table at a bowling alley and started screaming about how the leaders of the worldwide Jewish conspiracy were abducting and murdering children to drink their blood and gain immortality, then the owner of the bowling alley would be within his rights to toss the guy out on his ass--no matter how many frames he had left to roll.

OK, Facebook isn't a bowling alley (I checked). And sure, one could argue that it's a bit disconcerting for a platform whose whole raison d'etre is to promote conversation--stated raison d'etre, at any rate; we know it's whole purpose it to sell users' attention spans to advertisers, but let that go for now--for a service whose purpose is to allow people to connect, to enforce restrictions on people's ability to do so.

But even the government--which isn't "allowed" to restrict free speech--has imposed limits on what people can legally say.  Something about fires and crowded theaters comes to mind.  So how much more allowable, then, from a strictly legal standpoint, is it for a private company to impose limits?

A lot more.

While anyone with a shred of sanity or sense of civic responsibility can applaud Facebook's decision to join Twitter and YouTube in banning The Former Guy, however, one can still feel unease at the power of unelected billionaires to serve as gatekeepers for the limits of public discourse.  Still, I don't think this case is quite as complex as people have made it out to be.

Let's go back to the idea of falsely yelling fire in a crowded theater. (That "falsely" is often left out when people reference Oliver Wendell Holmes' famous analogy, but it's pretty important.  After all, if the theater really is on fire, YELL AWAY!)  Holmes was arguing that the government can restrict dangerous speech, speech that presents a clear and present danger to public safety.  So the government can prosecute dangerous speech, but that doesn't forbid non-governmental actors from intervening and stopping dangerous speech.  If some lunatic tries to start a panic by falsely yelling fire in a crowded theater, you don't need the cops to  make him stop.  The usher or the popcorn guy or even just a concerned fellow audience member could get up and hit the guy with a stick.  Or, you know, just tell him to shut the fuck up.  Facebook is the popcorn guy in this analogy.

So, yeah, if The Former Guy is going to continue to spread lies and whip his followers into bloodlust--and he's shown no inclination that he won't continue to do so--then all these social media platforms are well within their rights to continue to block him.  Some would say they have an obligation to do so.

In Which We Avoid Republicans, Dare Trump, Question Facebook, and Roll Our Eyes at Overly Creative Reporters.

I confess: I didn't watch the Republican debate last night.  Since I am not a registered Republican, and thus will not directly participate in the selection of the GOP nominee, I declare missing the debate not so much an act of utter civic apathy as an example of instinctual self-preservation: My delicate sensibilities can stand only so much of these carnival barkers pretending to be statesmen--or rather, NOT pretending to be statesmen.  That would be an improvement.  Still, I was struck by this quote from ostensible "safe" candidate, Jeb Bush:

“It troubles me that people are rewarded for tearing down our country. It’s never been that way in American politics before. I just don’t believe that this country’s days are going to be deeply — you know, going down. I think we’re on the verge of the greatest time, and I want to fix the things to let people rise up.”

Huh?

Was this Bush trying out new campaign slogans: "Bush 2016: Fixing the things!"  "Bush 2016: On the Verge of the Greatest Time!"  I guess either of those is better than "Bush 2016: America Doesn't Go Down!"  Not much better, but, y'know, better.

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Did you see this?  In response to Donald Trump's suggestion that the million-dollar loan he received from his father was not a particularly large sum of money--and should do nothing to detract from his delusional self-image as a self-made man--Stephen Colbert challenged Trump to sign a million-dollar check made out to the Harlem Children's Zone.  If Trump is half as smart as he considers himself, he will waste no time in signing the check: That million dollar donation would do more for his image than ten times that amount spent on advertising.  I'm almost mad at Colbert for giving that jackass such a golden opportunity.  But I will cling desperately to the belief that Trump's inherent jackassery will prevent him from doing such an obviously right thing.

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I have 30 people "following" me on Facebook.  I have no idea what this means, especially because I don't actually KNOW any of these people.  Shouldn't it just say I have 30 people "stalking" me?

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From the "Someone at the Times Is Trying Way Too Hard" files:

"Enceladus is only 300 miles across and whiter than a Bing Crosby Christmas, reflecting virtually all the sunlight that hits it, which should make it colder and deader than Scrooge’s heart."
                       --"Cassini Seeks Insights to Life in Plumes of Enceladus, Saturn’s Icy Moon"

Some editor should have gotten rid of that sentence the way the Grinch took away Cindy Lou Who's Christmas tree.

And If FOS "Liked" Jumping Off the Roof, Would You Do It, Too?

Lately, I've noticed that, when I click on a friend's status on Facebook, I'm encouraged to "Be the first to like this."  That is, of course, "liking" in the Facebook sense of the word: Clicking on the little "Like" that appears at the bottom of the posting, to the left of "Comment" and "Share."  I guess those are in a sort of order, "like, comment, and share" being a digital-age equivalent of "fold, spindle, and mutilate" or "judge, jury, and executioner" or something.  Anyway, I now find myself obsessed not just with liking things, but with being the first to like something.  Because if I'm not the first, what's the point?  I'm just a lemming-like, bandwagon-jumper, liking the fact that so-and-so is at Chuck E. Cheese or was tagged in such-and-such's photo merely because everybody else is doing it.

Thanks a lot, Zuckerberg!  You took something beautiful and pure--the meaningless indication of one's semi-conscious approval of a friend's activity--and turned it into a base competition!  What's next?  The placement of paid advertising on one's Facebook page?  I shudder to think.

Five Things

Having turned everyone into a giraffe, Facebook has now gotten personal.  The latest meme calls on people to "Like" a friend's status, after which the friend will give the "Liker" a number.  The Liker then must post a status in which he or she reveals "X-number of Things that no one knows about" him/her, the amount corresponding to whatever number was given previously.  How one is supposed to know with certainty whether these things are truly "unknown" is unclear to me, but whatever,  I think this particular meme may have run its course, but, in the spirit of full-disclosure and laziness, I hereby present five things nobody knows about the Solipsist:

1. I have a deathly fear of snowy egrets.

2. For a six-month period back in the early 1990's, I ate nothing but waffles.

3. I am the last living speaker of a little-known (obviously) Finno-Ugric dialect.  I would say something in this language, but since nobody else would understand it anyway, I'm not going to waste precious typing time.

4. I have three nostrils, only two of which are in my nose, though.

5. I have never petted a water buffalo.

Status Symbolism

There's a new app going viral on Facebook called "What would I say." The program combs through your previous statuses and generates a status based on other things you've written. I tried it, and the status that came back was, "Shut up that great big hill of sleep must be a single line!" I'm less bothered by the dreamlike incomprehensibility than by the status-bot's refusal to put a comma after "Shut up." This app is thoroughly inappropriate for grammar nerds.

You Keep Using That Word.... (Redux)

When I first started using Facebook, I wanted to enjoy the full experience, such as it was, and so I tried "liking" things. All the kids were doing it, after all, and where could the harm be? Just to be on the safe side, though, I generally avoided commercial products and mainly limited my likings to movies, TV shows, musical acts, and the occasional white supremacist book club (only one of those is a joke!). I ran into a small hiccup, however, when I chose to express my liking for Elvis.

Now, when I say "Elvis," I of course mean the Elvis who is still making music--and, frankly, the only Elvis of any true musical significance, i.e., Elvis Costello. Facebook, however, assumed I meant this other guy.  Yes, I know, hard to believe, but there was another famous musical Elvis--I think his last name was "Stojko" or something. So now I get these updates on my news feed informing me that on this date in Elvis history Mr. Stojko joined the army and on that date he ate a pancake, etc.

Well, anyway, today's Elvisania was a trivia question: What was the first movie  in which Elvis made his film debut? As opposed to what? His third film debut? Rest assured: No Elvis Costello fan site would make such a stupid mistake! Mainly because Elvis Costello hasn't done any films, but that's beside the point.

Send the Solipsist a Chuck E. Cheese Gift Card

When I go on Facebook and wish a friend--or even a "friend"--a "Happy Birthday," I don't particularly mind a message popping up encouraging me to "Send Lemuel [for example] a Starbuck's gift card."  I don't actually send Lemuel such a gift, but I don't mind the reminder.  After all, it's the thought that counts, so even if Facebook is forcing me to have the thought. . . well, you're welcome, Lemuel!

Lately, though, I've noticed definite "gift-encouragement creep."  It started when I congratulated someone on his wedding.  I was encouraged to send--let's say, Zoltan--an Amazon gift card.  Well, OK--a wedding is an appropriate gift-giving occasion.  But then I made a comment--not even a congratulations, as I recall--on someone's picture of his five-year-old graduating from kindergarten--AND I WAS EXHORTED TO "SEND ZIPPY A TGI FRIDAY'S GIFT CERTIFICATE"!

Now, come on, Folks!  First of all, I'm not convinced that graduating from kindergarten is even a thing, much less an occasion for gift-giving or congratulations!  When I graduated from kindergarten, the only "congratulations" I got was an extra scoop of macaroni and cheese and a day off from cleaning the scullery!  (Oh, mine was a hard childhood!)  Second of all, if anyone deserves a TGI Friday's gift certificate for graduating kindergarten, I would think it is Zippy's five-year-old, rather than Zippy himself!

Where will it end?  Will we soon be encouraged to send Home Depot gift cards to anyone whose status we "Like"?  Can we no longer engage in minimally effortful communications with our friends, acquaintances, and virtual stalkers without constant intrusions of the crassest commercial nature?  Resist, I say!  Save your gift-giving for those times when it is truly merited. . . like, when you read a truly entertaining blog post.

Congratulations Period

A Facebook etiquette (Fetiquette?) query:

A friend changed his profile picture today.  Now, this person is not a close friend--it's probably been about a year or so since I last saw or spoke to him--but he is someone I know in the real world ("Meatspace" as computer aficionados have been known to call it).  He used to work for me, as a matter of fact, as did his longtime girlfriend, whom I have likewise not seen or spoken to in about a year.  Anyway, this friend's new profile picture is quite clearly a wedding photo: He is wearing a very sharp suit, and he sits next to a very attractive woman in a spectacular wedding gown.  Now, I had no idea he had gotten married, nor did I even know he was engaged.  But more to the point, the bride is not the aforementioned LG..

My question: Assuming I want to acknowledge this updated profile photo at all, what do I say?  The obvious "Congratulations" seems somewhat misplaced--particularly as my impulse is not so much to say, "Congratulations exclamation point" as it is to say, "Congratulations question mark"  I mean, I assume this is a blessed event and all, but inquiring minds want to know what became of LG.  And it's not like I'm close enough to him that I can just dash off an e-mail and say, "Yo, Izzy [not his real name]!  What the hell happened to Gertrude [not her real name]?!?"

Any advice?

All in Favor of Equality

Over the last couple of days, Facebook has turned a bright shade of red, as countless people (many friends of Solipsist included) have changed their profile pictures to a red "equal" sign.  Someone somewhere decided that this symbol would indicate support for same-sex marriage and express one's hope that the Supreme Court decide in favor of those seeking to overturn once and for all California's Proposition 8, which outlawed such unions.

Now, I know how much Supreme Court justices are influenced by social-networking memes, particularly those involving gay marriage or kittens.  I have nevertheless not updated my profile picture.  I would like to take this opportunity to assure my legions of followers that this in no way indicates disapproval of same-sex marriage, something I fully support; it simply indicates utter laziness.

Hope that clears everything up.

What Could POSSIBLY Go Wrong?

Sometimes the blogging Gods just smile down on you at the right moment.  Here I was, tired, uninspired, about to toss up my hands and beg forgiveness for yet another missed night, when I logged onto Facebook and saw a friend's post about this: Bangwithfriends.com.

The site, from what I can tell (because I assure you I am FAR too chicken actually to click on the link), combines the anonymous hook-up possibilities of Craigslist with the safe coziness of your Facebook friends list. You can (again, as far as I can tell--total chicken here) sign up for this, uh, service through your Facebook account and then, if your friends also sign up, you will be somehow informed of their desire--not necessarily for YOU, I suppose, but just for a no-strings (if there is such a thing) encounter.

I honestly don't know whether to be appalled or impressed.  In a way, it's ingenious--until you start to ponder the ramifications.  I mean, first of all, there's the aforementioned non-guarantee of mutual attraction.  Imagine the awkwardness of finding a friend on this site, contacting him/her, only to be told thanks, but no thanks.  The last thing a guy needs to hear is that a girl "loves him as a Facebook friend." 

I suppose many, if not most, people have one or two exes on a friends' list.  I guess that could be slightly less awkward although potentially more damaging to a delicate psyche.

But, for me, here's the most potentially terrifying aspect of Bangwithfriends.  I don't know (Remember: Chicken!) whether this site allows you to specify people you DON'T want to hear from.  How many of us, for example, have cousins, siblings, and/or God-help-us PARENTS on our friends' list?  Some of my relatives are very attractive people, but still. I. Don't. Want. To. Know.  (And I'm sure they feel the same.)

Call me a traditionalist, but I think random sexual encounters with friends should happen the old-fashioned way: drunken hook-ups in a supply closet at the office Christmas party.  Just call me a romantic.

The Nation Mourns

I joined Facebook in April 2009.  Shortly thereafter, I joined a group called "Writer's Dock Party," thinking my creation and maintenance of this blog qualified me for membership.  Another WDP-er contacted me and asked what kind of stuff I wrote.  I explained that I wasn't really a "writer," per se: just a writing teacher with a blog that I had started as an effort to "practice what I preached."  She asked for the link, I provided it, and, after reading a few of the posts, wrote back with a resounding "Wow."  I think she became my first non-relative follower (FOS doesn't count; he's family).  A friendship was born.  Today, however, came news that Janet Woodard Rollstin ("JWR" to as she signed her comments) has passed away.

It's odd to mourn someone you've never actually met. Such is the nature of friendship, though, in the era of Facebook.  No longer constrained by geography, we can now form relationships over vast distances based on affinity--and appreciation for another's support.  Indeed, when JWR--a fine writer in her own right--told me she liked what I wrote, it came as welcome validation--even if it did nothing to cure my occasionally inflated sense of self-regard.  The sadness one feels at the passing of a virtual friend is a small price to pay for the sense of connection with a kindred spirit.

To Janet's family and friends (both physical and virtual), I extend my condolences.  The flag of Solipsist Nation flies at half-mast for one of our first followers and most faithful readers.  Godspeed, JWR.

Again: Consistency is ALL I Ask!

I am not one of those Facebook kvetches: those insufferable types who rant and rave every time Zuckerberg takes any action to increase the profitability of his product.  The way I see it, if I suffer minor incovenience because of a few changes to a free service that I am not obligated to use, I have no real right to complain.

Yet apparently I am a Yahoo! kvetch.  I was taken aback today when I logged into my Yahoo! mail and saw changes to the interface.  All of a sudden, for example, there are no checkboxes next to messages in my inbox.  Or rather, there ARE, but they only appear when I "mouse over" them.  The "Sign Out" button is now hidden.  And when I tried to attach a link to an e-mail, someone punched me in the face!  (Which may not, strictly speaking, have had anything to do with Yahoo!)

Maybe I'm just upset because I've had Yahoo! longer: I've had my Yahoo! address for about fifteen years now.  But I think it's more than that: I think that Facebook is still, to me, something of a "game"--a hangout. Changes to Facebook are like renovations to a bar or restaurant: As long as the food (or the friends) don't change, who really cares what the wallpaper looks like?  Yahoo!, though, is more of an ingrained part of my existence.  When unexpected changes happen, I feel disturbingly umoored.

Apres MOS, le Deluge

We've all had lots of laughs this year poking fun at those silly, silly Mayans who supposedly predicted the world would end on the disconcertingly specific date December 21, 2012.  In reality, they probably said no such thing and simply ran out of space on their calendar stone.  But I'm beginning to think they may have made such a prediction and, moreover, may have been right.

The signs of the coming end-times are all around us, from violent weather to Mitt Romney.  Still, I didn't put the pieces together until today.  For those keeping a keen eye out for signs of the coming apocalypse, brace yourself, I've got one: Today,  my mother, the world-famous MOS. . .tagged me on Facebook.  MOS.  Tagged me.  On Facebook.

This is the woman who doesn't own a television!  Who isn't sure about the difference between DVDs and DVRs!  Who told me her keyboard was broken when it would only print in capital letters--as if it were somehow "locked" in that position!

OK, maybe I exaggerate, but the tagging thing has me a little freaked out.

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Incidentally, I finally bit the bullet and opened a Twitter account, mostly so I could receive a steady stream of headlines from The Onion.  I'd invite you all to follow me there, but I don't exactly know how to do that.  I'm totally serious, by the way.  (And yes, the irony of admitting technological illiteracy after just trashing MOS for the same is not lost on me.)  I know it has something to do with following me "@" something, but I'm not sure what comes after the "@."  Try @JasonBerner, if you're so inclined.  And who knows, if I get some followers, maybe I'll start tweeting!  Who KNOWS what kind of wacky crap will come out of this twisted and troubled mind?

I Don't Need Depends, Either!

Along the righthand side of one's Facebook newsfeed, one finds "Sponsored" links.  Willingly exposing ourselves to these targeted ads is the price we pay for the privilege of reading our friends' status updates and looking at funny cat pictures.  Fair enough.  The promise of reaching consumers with specific advertisements tailored to each person's individual interests and buying history was what made the Facebook IPO so irresistible, at least until it wasn't anymore.  Based on what Facebook's algorithm deems appropriate for my perusal, though, I think I have some insight into why advertisers may have some reservations about the value of Facebook.

Today, for example, the sponsored links on my page include some that make a reasonable amount of sense: People are trying to sell me season 4 of "Damages" and Michael Crichton audiobooks.  As I mentioned last week, I am a fan of "Damages," and we can hardly condemn the advertisers for not taking the time to actually read the post wherein I mention having just bought season 4.  Maybe they figure I liked it so much I want a second set.  And I also like Michael Crichton, even if I have never bought an audiobook in my life.

Other sponsored links are more perplexing.  I'm not sure why I got an ad for "Trunk Club," a luxury online men's clothing retailer.  Sure, fashion is my life, but how did they know that?

And then there are the somewhat disturbing links, like ads asking me to stand with Mitt Romney or Sarah Palin, or an ad today that asks me to join a movement to get the United States to create jobs that build upon America's greatest resource: our abundance of coal.  As any regular reader of this page knows, I hardly support Republican causes.  Sure, I believe the gays should be strictly regulated and that illegal immigration causes rickets, but those are minor exceptions to a generally left-leaning worldview.

Ah, but as I typed the above, I realized why I was receiving these curiously targeted ads: Obviously, Facebook's advertising algorithms can't process sarcasm.  And therein lies the fundamental flaw in the whole program.  Because if, to paraphrase Harlan Ellison, there is any element more common in the universe than hydrogen, it is internet snark and sarcasm.  Any system that fails to take this into account is doomed to fail.

The Solipsist Reads the Times (So You Don't Have To)

First, some good news: American negotiators see hopeful signs that the Iranian government may be feeling pressure to reach a deal on its nuclear program that may prove acceptable to the international community--said "international community" presumably not including Iran.  It's always struck me as somewhat ironic, not to say hyprocritical, not to say "wrong" that countries like the US, with its own huge nuclear arsenal, dictates to other nations whether they can or cannot possess such weapons themselves.  Not that I'm in favor of Iranian nukes: I'd prefer that President Mahmanamana not have such weapons; I'd prefer even more that NOBODY had such weapons; and I'd prefer most of all that ONLY the United States had such weapons--well, and maybe England, 'cause they're adorable.  But, y'know, what's good for the nuclear goose is good for the atomic gander and all.

Anyway, the good news: International sanctions seem to be having some effect on Iranian leaders.  How do we know that Iran is feeling pressure?  Among other things, "Americans believe that recent blustery statements from Iranian officials are laying the groundwork for concessions by Tehran."  Hey, if "blustery statements" are good, then "outright threats" must be even better!  If we're lucky, maybe Iran will launch an "all-out military attack" on a neighboring country!  Then, we'll really be in business.

Unless you live under a rock or are still using MySpace, you know that Facebook went public yesterday.  Apparently even Zuckerberg couldn't figure out the privacy settings!  (Yes, I stole that line; it was worth it.)  People are disappointed (or maybe gloating) because the stock posted only a minor gain on its first day of trading.  Some suspect that investors were turned off when Mark Zuckerberg showed up to ring the stock market's opening bell wearing his trademark  hoodie.  Where's George Zimmerman when you need him?!?

Sorry.

Representative Harold Rogers (R-KY) has some 'splainin' to do.  He steered a government contract to supply "drip pans" for army helicopters to a company in his district, at the presumably outrageous cost of $17,000 per pan.  In Rogers' defense, these are leakproof pans.  He could have gotten leaky pans for only $16,500 per, but I for one think our troops are worth the extra expenses.

Eminent psychiatrist Dr. Robert L. Spitzer has come out (so to speak) against an earlier study he authored.  In that 2003 study, he claimed that so-called "gay conversion therapy," which seeks to "cure" homosexuals of their gaiety, might offer benefits to those who truly wanted to change their sexual orientation.  Now, Dr. Spitzer is no gay-basher: In the 1970s, he played a prominent role in convincing the psychiatric community to STOP classifying homosexuality as a mental illness.  So his later study, which bucked the consensus view that "gay cures" were at best ineffective and at worst extremely harmful, was hailed by many conservatives as a vindication of their view that homosexuality was a reversible choice.  In fairness to Dr. Spitzer, he most emphatically denied that there was anything wrong with homosexuality, and emphasized that his study only suggested that "gay cures" merited further investigation, but this didn't prevent the demagoguery of small minds.  At any rate, Dr. Spitzer now acknowledges that his study suffered from methodological flaws and he has apologized to the gay community for the harm that he unwittingly caused.  Good for him.

Now, if only someone would find a cure for narrow-minded bigotry and homophobia.

Alexis Tsipras may become the Prime Minister of Greece in the next few weeks.  His left-wing party is likely to claim a majority in upcoming elections, a result of widespread anger at austerity measures demanded by the power-brokers in the European union.  Tsipras seems to enjoy his newfound power and has unaplogetically tweaked the euro-zone leaders (read: Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany).

Annoying the Germans, huh?  Surely, nothing bad could come of that.

Finally, I was deeply saddened to read of the passing of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau.  Then I remembered that I don't know who that is.  Turns out, he was the pre-eminent twentieth-century interpreter of  "art songs," a traditional genre that extends from classical works, such as Schubert's "Der Erlkonig," to modern-day masterpieces like Nicki Minaj's "Stupid Hoe."  Truly, Fischer-Dieskau was a genius; only someone with a heart of stone could be unmoved by his rendition of "My Humps."

You're welcome, Nation.

If That's All There Is, My Friend, Then Let's Keep Friending

About a year ago, when Facebook changed its format, a great wailing arose across the land.  People were outraged.  A meme making its way around the interwebs at the time summed up the general attiude: A man sitting at a computer says, "I am outraged that this free service that I am under no obligation to use has made some changes that mildly inconvenience me!"

That was nothing compared to the outrage that greeted the announcement of the "Timeline" feature.  For the last several months, I have sat by, largely silent, as people have reacted with fear and loathing to the latest affront to all things good by Zuckerberg, et al.  I myself wasn't overly worried, and, indeed, I felt somewhat left out as I saw friend after friend "adopting" Timeline.  I think some people thought I was being a principled holdout--in fact, I was worried that I had done something to offend Mark Zuckerberg.

Well, today, a Facebook friend posted on my wall, "YOU HAVE. . . .TIMELINE!"  Knowing this particular friend, I suspect the intonation behind the all-caps exclamation was not unlike that with which you would question a friend about allegations of date rape or voting Republican.  Frankly, I was surprised.  "I do?"  I replied.

Now, I had, in fact, noted that my "wall" (if that's the correct term) seemed to look somewhat different, but I didn't really pay this much heed: I spend most of my Facebook time lurking on my Newsfeed page.  When I realized that these alterations were, in fact, the much ballyhooed Timeline, I was frankly underwhelmed.  Was THIS what all the fuss had been about?

Any major change that can slip by someone unnoticed for weeks on end does not merit the description "major."  I'm not even sure it merits the word "change."

HE Will Say He Was Being Ironic, But We Know the Truth. . .

Today, I logged onto Facebook and saw this rather lengthy status update from ACOS:

"I am about to do a mass delete of my Facebook friends.  I have a large number of friends from an online game that I no longer play because it is a massive time-suck [I'm paraphrasing] that has caused me to neglect my wife, children--a second one was apparently born sometime in the last seven months and I didn't even realize it!  Her name is Abigail--and job--suppliers have threatened to break my legs if I don't remit payment in the next four minutes [I may be embellishing].  Anyway, I'm getting rid of all these online friends, but, if you're reading this, it's because I don't want to delete you, SO, if you don't see another status update from me in the next hour or so, I probably deleted you accidentally.  Just send me a friend request if that happens."

Now, ACOS is an intelligent sort.  He has an MBA.  He's actually one of those "job-creators" we've all heard so much about lately (as opposed to the rest of us, who, I guess, are "job-doers"--but I digress).  I mention that so you will have the proper context for his NEXT status update, posted about thirty minutes later:

"Deletion done.  If you don't see this status, please let me know."

Word of the Day: "Like"

Whenever Facebook introduces changes, people invariably complain.  At the risk, however, of causing major consternation in the social networking world, I would like to suggest a much-needed innovation.  Something needs to be done about the "Like" button.

As Facebookers know, when responding to someone's status or other postings, you currently have the option to leave a comment or, if you want to acknowledge the post without making the effort to write actual sentences, you can simply "Like" the entry.  This involves the highly complex procedure of clicking a button labeled "Like."  Interestingly, on Facebook, "Liking" is an active process: Once you "Like" something, the "Like" button changes to "Unlike," suggesting that, while you may instantly forget whatever it is you've just "Liked," you do, in some sense, continue "Liking" it indefinitely, as if in some remote corner of your subconscious, you continuously appreciate the fact that, say, your friend had a delicious dinner with Ralph and the kids.

Maybe you do.

At any rate, a problem arises when you wish to acknowledge a posting, a comment, a status update--when silence seems callous--and you don't really have anything to SAY about the post--words are superfluous--but somehow "Liking" seems inappropriate or insufficient.  Currently, you have no other options.

Twenty-three years ago today Libyan terrorists planted a bomb on Pan Am flight 103.  The plane blew up over Lockerbie, Scotland, killing everyone onboard as well as several people on the ground.  Thirty-five passengers on the flight were students from Syracuse University, including several friends and acquaintances of mine.  As you might imagine, several of my Facebook friends, also from Syracuse, have posted memorial comments on their walls today.  And I have nothing to add.

So I "Liked" the posts.  What else could I do?

Now I'm not suggesting that Facebook should--or even could--add buttons to express every possible emotional reaction to a friend's piece of news, much less to express the complex emotions one feels when confronted with important reminders of somber occasions.  But an "Agree" button would be a welcome addition.  Or even just a simple "Yes."

As for those people on Pan Am 103, especially Theo and Miriam, let me just say for now and always, "Like."

The Ghosts of Facebook Past

In my writing class, we had a textbook with an exercise designed to help students identify problems with audience and tone--or maybe it was just meant to be humorous.  Anyway, this exercise featured sentences from (supposedly) actual job application letters, all of which demonstrated problems.  The students were supposed to explain where the applicant had gone wrong.  The problems ranged from misspellings and grammatical mistakes to inappropriate comments (e.g., "I don't do well working in groups"; "While I have held fourteen jobs in the last two years, I have never been fired"; and so on).  One of the inappropriate lines I always appreciated was: "References: None.  I have left a trail of destruction behind me."

Now, I understand why the textbook authors included this sentence, and I get why it's technically inappropriate.  But I have to say, if I were an employer, and I got a cover letter with that sentence, I would want to meet that person.  After sifting through piles and piles of standard, inoffensive, perfectly appropriate applications, I would be intrigued by this person who is either a complete idiot or someone who took a chance on a fundamentally unconventional approach.  Either way, it would make for an interesting interview.

All of which, I guess, is basically my way of saying, Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

I thought of this today as I was reading about Facebook's new "Timeline" feature, which will apparently allow you--and, by extension, anyone who has access to your profile--to view everything you've ever posted on the website.  Many people are up in arms either because (A) some people have made a hobby out of complaining about any changes to Facebook--which is kind of stupid because it's a free site; (B) they worry about privacy issues--which, again, is kind of stupid because the things you post on your Facebook are, well, things that YOU post on YOUR Facebook; or, (C) because they fear repercussions when, say, potential employers or sexual partners can look at things you posted five years ago when you were younger and stupider and which make you look bad now.

That last concern is understandable, especially for people who first joined Facebook as, say, hedonistic college freshmen and who are now applying for jobs in the Republican Party.  OK, bad example, but you get the point.  Remember, though, that employers are people, too, and they will come to understand that a few youthfully indiscreet photographs posted years ago are simply examples of the kind of rambunctious shenanigans in which anyone might take part.  Indeed, they might become wary of applicants with suspiciously innocuous online personalities.

Remember, employers, you may have to live with this hire for some time.  You might consider going for people who seem like they'll be fun around the water cooler.