Something Facebook-related happened today, and since I closed my account three months ago, it was time for an update.
This morning, one of my former coworkers emailed me to let me know that another former coworker had died recently. She very helpfully included some information, including a link to his memorial website, which mentions that his family and friends are posting photographs to his Facebook page.
We weren’t close, but I still wanted to see the photos and remember him a little. This exemplifies the only thing I really resent about Facebook. It functions just as it is supposed to — show these things to only these people, and exclude the rest — but in the case of someone’s death, the assumption is that only the person’s closest friends are the ones who want to say goodbye.
Otherwise, I am not suffering from FOMO. My social life is just fine. I am lucky that I have had a website for a while, so folks can find me if they look. But if they are not around to look …
Last Friday, I deactivated my Facebook account. I have been complaining about Facebook for a while now, so it was time for action. I opted for deactivation first before deletion because I wanted to see how a trial breakup would go. As it turns out, Facebook will still keep and mine my data! So hooray. Except the opposite of that.
How much do I love information? So much. How much do I love using Facebook’s craptilious interface to get that information? Not much. Hi, PostPost. You let me filter my Facebook stream by links, pictures, or videos. Therefore I like you a lot. Not love yet. But like.
via Use PostPost to Get the Best News and Information from Facebook | Librarian by Day.
I know this is an old and tired subject, but it has been on my mind all day, and I am participating in NaBloPoMo so I don’t have time to talk myself out of writing it.
Today I posted a note on my Facebook profile stating that while WordPress, Tumblr, and Twitter would be automatically updating my wall, I would not be present. Thus I began my Facebook vacation.
I don’t hate Facebook, but I dislike the false knowledge I glean from it, the pretense of knowing who my contacts are by reading arbitrary updates, photos, and links they post. I also wonder about the reverse: which assumptions are my contacts making about me from my blurbs?
Eventually I will return, but not without reconsidering Facebook’s importance in my life, and severely limiting the time I spend with it.
Has Facebook changed your life?
It wasn’t a compliment when an acquaintance told me that I live more of my life online than anyone else she knows. These words have been haunting me lately as I examine my life and my priorities. Then I read “Facebook Exodus” on NYTimes.com, this quote in particular:
“The more dependent we allow ourselves to become to something like Facebook — and Facebook does everything in its power to make you more dependent — the more Facebook can and does abuse us,” Harmsen explained by indignant e-mail. “It is not ‘your’ Facebook profile. It is Facebook’s profile about you.”
Facebook isn’t the first, nor will it be the last, online community to be abandoned en masse. Will we divulge even more of ourselves via the next, or will we begin to withdraw in favor of offline connection?