Crackbook

I recently joined Facebook.

I swore I never would.  Really, swore. Out loud. MANY times.

But then I found an old high school friend I really wanted to get in touch with. The only way to get his contact info was to succumb and join. Reluctantly, I put up a profile. I figured if I was looking for people, maybe people were looking for me. I’d put up one profile. One picture. Have one or two friends. Three, tops. That’s all I needed. No more. Really.

It all started out innocently enough. 

Now I know why a friend of mine calls it Crackbook. It sucks you in and gets you addicted.  It makes you write on people’s walls. It makes you comment on their photos. It makes you send out useless ‘status reports’ that are nothing more than telling somebody some stupid ass thing that you’re thinking or doing at a given moment. Who the hell cares?

Apparently, everybody.

Seriously. EVERYBODY.

EVERYBODY is on Crackbook. The number of people I have found that I haven’t heard from or about in 30 years is astounding. Men are easier to find than women. Women change their names. Other than when it’s required by the witness protection program, men don’t. Even then, I bet there’s some witness protection program version of Facebook. Maybe it’s called FaceLessBook.

Facebook makes you forget things like the fact that if you haven’t had contact with someone for 30 years, maybe there’s a reason for that. But suddenly you simply HAVE to put them on your friends list and look at their photos and read their personal information. Why? Why now?

Because it’s Crackbook.

It IS like a bad acid trip sometimes. The interface is horribly done and entirely user-unfriendly. Whoever designed it should be shot, run over with a steamroller and left for the buzzards. It’s a visual cacophony of photos, links, comments, status updates and other crap (my fingers slipped when I was logging in the other day and instead of Facebook I typed Fecebook. I laughed out loud at the appropriateness of my error).

A friend of mine (a real friend, not a Crackbook friend) described Facebook as a way to be connected without having to be TOO connected. That’s true. It sort of gives you an omniscient look into everyone’s lives, like you’re some all-knowing being looking in on your children.

Of course, that street runs both ways. Friends can look in on YOU.  People you hoped to never see or hear from again can find you.  Girls that wouldn’t give you the time of day in high school suddenly WANT to be your friend (fortunately, Facebook has the IGNORE button). You’ll get bombarded with crap like ‘who’s your celebrity friend of the day’ announcements and ‘how well do you know’ somebody quizzes. Like any addiction, you must take the downers along with the uppers.

Still….I have to admit…..verrrrrrry reluctantly…..that it IS sorta fun. In a sick, twisted, time-wasting sort of way. I might just been a teesny-weensy bit hooked on Crackbook.

But I can quit any time I want to.

Really.

note: before you send me, or anyone, a friend request on Facebook, you should take a listen to this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7MuwPlOiNQ