Facebook

Being derogatory towards Facebook is a lot like breathing, in the sense that everybody does it, but nobody does it as well as I do. And I hate the vast majority of people who do it.

Most Facebook whingers are the self-professed "random" or "totally mental" types who actually love Facebook with a passion, but want to look like they are so completely bonkers that they can't control their own actions.

I am yet to figure out precisely why people think that "randomness" is funny. Surrealism can be funny. I use it a lot. I am really funny. Surrealism is a lot like whinging about Facebook and breathing and shark-wrestling, in the sense that everybody does it, but nobody does it as well as I do.

I like certain elements of Facebook. It is useful for contacting groups of people in one go - for example, to invite them to a party, or to discuss housing arrangements, or arrange a terrorist attack, or whatever I do. It's funny how people regard a visit to an unfamiliar webpage as a journey. An undertaking that requires a concerted effort. It's no problem to browse Facebook aimlessly for hours on end, but by God, to redirect your browser to another webpage, well, that would involve expending a considerable amount of extra energy, both mental and physical.

So I am left with no choice but to update Facebook regularly, since I am too vain to pass up the opportunity for people to say stuff like "you are such a great writer that I am going to burn every other book in the world," or "I would jump on it in a flash, you rippling manstud," to me.

The way I see it, Facebook has only one more use than this. And it is really rather an important one.

It serves as a comprehensive directory of every single person on my "to kill before I hit twenty-three" list. A sort of checklist, if you will. Moreover, it also gives those people the perfect platform to justify my desire to terminate them.

Do you have multiple "Applications" on your profile? Then I am going to kill you.

You fill out chain-mail notes about the films you have watched?
Or a questionnaire about your sexual deviance?
Or your personality type? Or character? Or level of "randomness"?
You spit pop-philosophy and your friends think you're deep?
Then you're fucked.

You have a Facebook pet? Uh-oh.

You join groups that represent your ideologies and self-congratulate with all the other bastards on the wall, insulting opponents and slowly indoctrinating yourself with reactionary propaganda, failing at any point to examine counter-arguments?

You support really important Facebook-related causes such as the "how dare they charge us to send gifts those horrid capitalist bastards it should be free" group and add the "free-gift" application as an expression of your passionate support for civil liberties?

You think that "I hate you reactionary cunts, I am embarrassed to belong to the same species as you," does not suffice as a valid argument against you?

You'd best start writing a will.

You poke people? You're dead
You have the Graffiti wall? You're dead
You have the "X me" application? Why do you want me to kill you?
You have the Superpoke Application? That's kosher. I don't mind that.

You list every band you've ever heard of in your "favourite music" list to show off how hip you are? I hate you more than all of these subgroups. Having heard of a band is not something to be proud of.

Why would you think it was? Knowing obscure bands isn't an achievement.

Stop it. Please, stop it. Bang bang.

You list "random" quotes that you and your friends made on drunken nights out? Try: "Oh fuck, he has a knife, the psychotic bastard has a kn-AAAARRRRGHHH."You list movies and books you don't really like but that you think make you look more intelligent? You really love War and Peace? I'm not saying you shouldn't. Just that you don't.

You think Ayn Rand is a genius? There's no hope for you.

Endostory.