I have a hard time saying “no,’” and nowhere does this characteristic play out more vividly that in Facebook. Currently I have 285 Facebook friends, two of which are not human…Merlin is a black tabby cat and Earl is a Labradoodle. Obviously I can’t reasonably decide whether to confirm or “ignore” potential virtual friends. As in life, I have a certain façade to maintain through Facebook, and I do not want to appear unfriendly. It’s a social network, for crying out loud! However, you should not underestimate the power of this “friend-filled” forum as it elicits roller coaster mood changes, serves as a vehicle for the collective consciousness, and offers an anonymous stage for
recreating ones’ self.
As I page down the posts of some of my dot-com “friends,” their communal status’ randomly bring forth anger, fear, satisfaction, confusion, pity, humility, concern, tears, and laughter. Just selecting “news feed recent” puts me in a bi-polar tail-spin. On a regular-random basis, my Facebook family members are like tiny gigabyte ants, busily checking their daily horoscopes, their fortune cookies, and their tarot card readings; they are endlessly posting political opinions, requesting prayers and linking me to Youtube music videos from the 1980s. With each keystroke the multitudes plead for items via Cityville, Café World, and FarmVille. (Hold the presses….did you know that Microsoft Word now recognizes Farmville as a properly spelled word? Seriously, when I type it, there is no red, squiggly line under it to alert me to potential misspelling or grammar errors. Frightening. Especially since I am typing this on a cheap-ass Acer laptop!)
Speaking of FarmVille, the app has apparently rocketed through all of the domesticated and wild animals currently recognized on planet Earth, and now finds it necessary to tantalize people with fairy tale creatures. No shit. I just saw that Ridinghood Sheep and Cat n' Boots have made their way to the Farmville Market. Not even Shrek confused Red Riding Hood with having any sheep. Although I did sleep through my bootleg of Shrek: The Final Chapter…maybe Red partied with sheep in that version? But, I digress….
My pre-teen “friends” are calculating their “sexy percentage” even though they don’t yet have boobs; my middle-age friends are calculating their “mean percentage” even though they claim to be taking their meds. Marie just found out her exotic dancer name….Dawning Daye. On a positive note, I think the Mafia Wars are experiencing a cease fire. And, hey ya’ll, Brad is getting the band back together! (Actually, this is the best post of the week ‘cause Brad and the Boys are bound to rock some serious Stones throughout Hooterville proper and the surrounding suburbs!)
No offense, friends a la Facebook, but I am trying to imagine what would result from a Global Consciousness Exercise or Web Bot Project involving you guys. Let’s see…”In exploring whether the construct of interconnected unconsciousness can be validated on Angie’s home page, we, as researchers from several institutions and countries, have come to the following 2012 prediction: Exotic dancers and people with sexy names will be elected to the majority of congressional and senatorial seats under the affiliation of the recently-formed “Tea-zer Party.” These “Tea-zers,” whose iconic symbol, xio*, trumps both the elephant and the ass, will proceed to rescue the failing economy by charging for virtual hugs, hearts, smiles, and lap dances… Then, 99 Luftballoons will be released in celebration, while Brad’s band plays Shattered."