The intentionally not current / Fuck you, Facebook
After our family reunion this weekend, my cousin’s wife friended me on Facebook. I saw the email alert in my inbox yesterday, so I begrudgingly logged into my profile tonight to accept her.
Grr.
I had not logged into Facebook in forever, so I took a peek at my profile after quickly bypassing The Page of Shameless Self-Absorption and accepting my new friend request. Lo and behold, I saw Huntington Beach, CA listed as my “Current City.”
About a month and a half after leaving HB, I have yet to remove it as my present burg. But the question is, “Will I?” Will I replace HB with IC as my “Current City” on Facebook.
Fuck no.
Why? Not because I think HB gives my profile, and subsequently the real me — the actual, flesh and bone human being the profile represents — points in the “What’s he doing nowadays” game we all play after graduating from high school, but because I don’t give a fuck. Frankly, I rather like the idea of purposely keeping my Facebook profile outdated just to mess with people and give Mark Zuckerberg and the whole concept of online social networking a double-barreled one-finger salute.
Which brings me to this: why do I even have a Facebook profile anymore?
For over a year, I have been a sliver away from canceling my Facebook profile. I have let the cursor hover over the termination button at least once. But before I pull the plug, I think, “Well, maybe it’ll be good for something…eventually.” Or, “It doesn’t hurt to have it.”
Unlike most Facebook users, I don’t login every hour (or have, what is probably very common, a continuous session; “Keep me logged in”), play games (many of which are, apparently, distractions to keep users occupied while the application covertly mines personal data), or keep tabs on long lost friends and classmates. I don’t write on anyone’s Wall, don’t send anyone messages, and don’t post pictures, videos, or notes. (I will admit, though, I did have The Quiet Man posts imported to my profile, but that was a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.) Sometime last year I removed all my “Likes and Interests” and all non-required “About Me” information. Technically, no one can see my scant profile information because not even my friends are allowed to see it. (I set all my privacy settings as high as they can be.) The only presence I maintain on Facebook are some blank tabs, my sex, information regarding my Networks and “Current City” (which is now outdated), and a profile picture I have not changed in three years. No one without a mutual friend can even find me on the site.
(“Where did some of my profile information go?” Indeed: why are entire parts of my profile missing? Because I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want to join networks related to every motherfucking aspect of my life and past.)
I even have a phony birth date listed, too. According to Facebook, my birthday is April 20, 1977. No one can see that, either, and I always change the date so no one can see that my “birthday” is approaching.
Deception is so fun, which is probably one of the reasons why my profile has survived all this time. I have seriously considered letting my imagination run wild. A long time ago, Facebook put a stop to the highly creative and fun phenomenon of profiles for historical figures, inanimate objects, and fictional characters (among my first Facebook friends were Walt Whitman, Yoda, and Wireless Internet Router), but how can Big Brother Zuckerburg put the kibosh on real people fabricating their entire profiles? (A guy I worked with, who just happened to be Wireless Internet Router, previously used a woman’s name for his profile and uploaded a picture of a sexy coed for the profile pic. Despite the fact his real UI email address, which included his very male first name, was displayed in the profile, he received tons of perverted messages from men.)
For me, Facebook is completely useless. But the real reason why I have not canceled my account is because my sister uses it. Years ago I gave her my password and she has since been using my profile to keep tabs on her long-time boyfriend from high school. “She” friended his new girlfriend, now his fiancée, and keeps track of what they’re doing. I’m not sure how often she still does this proxy-spying (she’s been with Saucy for about three years, and he’s a much better guy who fits well in our family dynamic), but it’s enough to make my mom tell me not to cancel my account “because your sister uses it.”
Fine. I won’t. But there will come a day when she decides her ex isn’t worth it (he’s not) and I will hover my cursor over the cancellation link and finally click it.
Grr.
I had not logged into Facebook in forever, so I took a peek at my profile after quickly bypassing The Page of Shameless Self-Absorption and accepting my new friend request. Lo and behold, I saw Huntington Beach, CA listed as my “Current City.”
About a month and a half after leaving HB, I have yet to remove it as my present burg. But the question is, “Will I?” Will I replace HB with IC as my “Current City” on Facebook.
Fuck no.
Why? Not because I think HB gives my profile, and subsequently the real me — the actual, flesh and bone human being the profile represents — points in the “What’s he doing nowadays” game we all play after graduating from high school, but because I don’t give a fuck. Frankly, I rather like the idea of purposely keeping my Facebook profile outdated just to mess with people and give Mark Zuckerberg and the whole concept of online social networking a double-barreled one-finger salute.
Which brings me to this: why do I even have a Facebook profile anymore?
For over a year, I have been a sliver away from canceling my Facebook profile. I have let the cursor hover over the termination button at least once. But before I pull the plug, I think, “Well, maybe it’ll be good for something…eventually.” Or, “It doesn’t hurt to have it.”
Unlike most Facebook users, I don’t login every hour (or have, what is probably very common, a continuous session; “Keep me logged in”), play games (many of which are, apparently, distractions to keep users occupied while the application covertly mines personal data), or keep tabs on long lost friends and classmates. I don’t write on anyone’s Wall, don’t send anyone messages, and don’t post pictures, videos, or notes. (I will admit, though, I did have The Quiet Man posts imported to my profile, but that was a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.) Sometime last year I removed all my “Likes and Interests” and all non-required “About Me” information. Technically, no one can see my scant profile information because not even my friends are allowed to see it. (I set all my privacy settings as high as they can be.) The only presence I maintain on Facebook are some blank tabs, my sex, information regarding my Networks and “Current City” (which is now outdated), and a profile picture I have not changed in three years. No one without a mutual friend can even find me on the site.
(“Where did some of my profile information go?” Indeed: why are entire parts of my profile missing? Because I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want to join networks related to every motherfucking aspect of my life and past.)
I even have a phony birth date listed, too. According to Facebook, my birthday is April 20, 1977. No one can see that, either, and I always change the date so no one can see that my “birthday” is approaching.
Deception is so fun, which is probably one of the reasons why my profile has survived all this time. I have seriously considered letting my imagination run wild. A long time ago, Facebook put a stop to the highly creative and fun phenomenon of profiles for historical figures, inanimate objects, and fictional characters (among my first Facebook friends were Walt Whitman, Yoda, and Wireless Internet Router), but how can Big Brother Zuckerburg put the kibosh on real people fabricating their entire profiles? (A guy I worked with, who just happened to be Wireless Internet Router, previously used a woman’s name for his profile and uploaded a picture of a sexy coed for the profile pic. Despite the fact his real UI email address, which included his very male first name, was displayed in the profile, he received tons of perverted messages from men.)
For me, Facebook is completely useless. But the real reason why I have not canceled my account is because my sister uses it. Years ago I gave her my password and she has since been using my profile to keep tabs on her long-time boyfriend from high school. “She” friended his new girlfriend, now his fiancée, and keeps track of what they’re doing. I’m not sure how often she still does this proxy-spying (she’s been with Saucy for about three years, and he’s a much better guy who fits well in our family dynamic), but it’s enough to make my mom tell me not to cancel my account “because your sister uses it.”
Fine. I won’t. But there will come a day when she decides her ex isn’t worth it (he’s not) and I will hover my cursor over the cancellation link and finally click it.
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