Resistance Is Futile

Some time ago, I got an account on something called Facebook, which my younger younger brother assured me was perhaps the coolest thing in the history of cool and would never go away no matter what. (I believe it took that title from Friendster, which was the fourth largest standing army on Earth for ninety minutes, and also a huge nookie farm.) I mostly did it to be polite to him, played with it for fifteen minutes, had the same amount of fun and acquired the same facial expression as my father when he tries to play Halo 2, and forgot about Facebook.

Until about three weeks ago.

That is roughly when Facebook hit critical mass. I know this because suddenly I am awash in friends on an account I had forgotten I had on a website I had forgotten existed. I’m not ungrateful, understand — turns out I have seventeen friends, a higher number than I might have guessed if you asked me — but it’s a very odd feeling, having people that I did not anticipate would be either a) on Facebook or b) looking for me befriend me. I don’t know how to search for people on Facebook, so it’s a fairly random sampling, plus I don’t know about Facebook protocols, plus, as with all things Internet, there is a mild level of desire to disguise use of the thing. I feel like a resident of a small town in Nebraska who finally screws up the courage to drive an hour to the county gay bar and slink in and upon doing so is welcomed warmly by his neighbor, his barber, the mayor, two fellow Little League coaches and his closest friend from fourth grade: Fancy running into you here! I’m delighted to see you! Uh…now what do we do?

5 thoughts on “Resistance Is Futile

  1. Now what do we do? I’ll tell ya — now we urge everyone in our generation to flood the damned thing and instantly make it uncool and passe. I’ve done my part.

    Thanks for Friending me.

  2. Now, I just registered for Facebook, too. And the first name that popped up upon my registering my high school and year of graduation was actually a person that I would like to find out what happened to. However, can I attempt to “friend” someone who is not my friend? I mean, she was my friend, but I haven’t talked to her in precisely thirteen years, so I can’t claim that she’s still my friend. She’s someone I used to know but I don’t know anymore. Is there some sort of protocol here that I don’t know about? I’m not that cool. This is confusing me.

  3. Chris, if I knew how to find you or befriend you, I would be honored.

    J, the idea of ruining this for youngsters is completely irresistible. This is how we get old — not with a whimper, but with flaming outraged resentment.

    bg, Vive la Résistance!

    By the way, I just confirmed Luna as “Spouse” and simultaneously wrote a complete story in my head about how if I rejected it my life would radically change retroactively a la Marty McFly’s.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *