Well…the honeymoon is over between me and the social media giant, Facebook, which I have lovingly renamed Farcebook, because of their latest shenanigans which have now broke my camel’s back. There is a little poem we used to recite when something of this nature would come about. It goes something like this…
I saw a birdie soft and still
sitting upon my window sill.
I coaxed him in with a piece of bread,
then I smashed his little head.
…and that is exactly what Farcebook is doing to its loyal users. They are luring them in with the idea that their platform is fun and interesting and inviting and in their best interests and a great way to stay in touch with family and friends…and then slowly but surely begin to get control of you and everything that you do within that environment. Which is their right, I suppose, as some of their policies are there albeit buried amidst a ton of mumbo jumbo. The other things are outright changes that they call “tweaks” which are supposed to “make the experience” better. But it doesn’t really. They do it little bit by little bit, just enough to annoy but not start an all out rebellion. Until now. And even so, a lot of people are putting up with the latest ploy, which they have managed to convince a lot of those who just don’t give a fig that it is ” for their own good” and to “protect them”, but in reality it is posturing for a money grab by collecting data and personal info so as to sell it to the government. Yes, I am referring to the “real name” policy. Sure, it is in the fine print that one agrees to when they sign up for the venue, but no one has ever really taken it seriously. After all, how safe is it to be putting your real identity out there on the interwebz, hmm? Having been on the net since before there was even a world wide web (thank you, Al Gore! 😉 ) way back well into the mid to late 1970’s (yes, I am dating myself here) it has been an unwritten given that one never puts their personal info out there on the web. But now, Farcebook, in an effort to make you sign up for a “Fan Page” so as to be able to post as a business, an entity or anonymously, has put the screws to those who do not want to play by their silly yet ignorant rules by forcing you into putting your real name out there for every Tom, Dick and Harry to see. Now, I don’t look down on those who choose to put there real names out there. That is their choice and more power to them. I chose to use my business name, as that is the main reasons I am on social media to begin with…to promote my business. I want to brand my business, not my family name. Contrary to some other publicity Ho’s out there, I am not into business for the sole purpose to get rich at any cost like Farcebook is doing. If I want to socialize with friends I will call them up on the phone or make plans for a play date in person. I don’t need to hide behind a computer to have a social life. True, I may be one in a million, but I don’t think so. Now, the plan is to get me to use their “Fan Page” option to try and promote my business, but the problem that I have with that is the way their algorithm is programed. They have it coded in such a way so as to limit exposure in that phase of the environment …drum roll please… UNLESS I PAY FOR IT! Yes, folks. There it is. The proverbial turd in the punch bowl. This is what it all boils down to…greed. Like Mark Zuckerburg and Farcebook as an entity doesn’t have enough money in their hairy little palms.
So…what to do now?
Well, let’s see. Google+ and Twitter today are looking a whole lot more shiny and sparkly for me than they did yesterday before my underwear got pulled up around my ears. And then there is a little- heard of social networking site called diaspora* which is looking more and more attractive to me the more I learn about it. The bottom line is this…Farcebook does not OWN my ass and I refuse to be extorted. So, now begins the slow but sure phasing over to something bigger and better than what I had in Farcebook. The bottom line is sobering but do-able…they did me a favour in showing me their true colours. I will not spend one hard earned penny to line the Farcebook corporate pockets, no. You all do what you want, but I did not grow up in the ’60s and the ’70s to just roll over and let Big Brother stick to me this way. And you would be smart, dear reader, to pay close attention to whom you are giving all of your personal information to. It may not be too late to save yourself from this monster. Or at least try…
…stay tuned. 🙂