|This is probably illegal.|
Why? It turns out it's hard to do other things while I'm hanging out in the virtual marketplace waiting for people to say things. And of course, people so rarely say things now, not when there are memes to share and articles of dubious fact content to argue over. And then there are the comments--sometimes I just can't stand seeing how rude strangers can be to people I care about. (Strangers to me, that is, not to them. But still!) It all came to a head for me during the Syrian refugee hand-wringing a few weeks back, when I finally couldn't take it any longer and I went on a deleting spree.
And Facebook is desperate to hang on to the time and attention we so willingly give it. The people behind the site like it being a news source (although I find it much too slow to be any use for news; that's what Twitter is for). They want us so badly to never leave the app that they're developing a browser. Why do you think every other website allows you to log in with Facebook? (I don't do that, either.) The more we rely on them, the harder it is for us to quit. A bit like an addiction.
The thing is, I do like being able to connect to so many people in one place. I like that I can post funny memes and giggle over it with friends across time and space, as it were. It's more convenient than email and faster than phoning all of my friends once a day.
It's what brings people to my blog (although not as much on days when I don't talk about Chadwick, it seems. Truly, the most interesting part of me is gone). And I am unwilling to completely walk away from all that, not while friends are still gathering and talking and having a laugh.
Still. If you've noticed my absence, that's why. The rudeness reminded me that I have other life goals, and the other life goals keep me from spending too much time there most days. I'm a bit afraid that if I let myself spend any more time there, I'll fall into a swirling vortex of rude, too. Perhaps I already have and my being gone is a relief to some. And I'm sure there are others who never noticed that I was gone at all. Such is the way of human interaction, especially on a site with a mysterious algorithm that means most of us are shouting into the void, anyway.
How do you feel about Facebook? Fun forum? House of horrors? Somewhere in between?