Thursday, July 26, 2007

More Facebook: Are You Sure You Wish to Deactivate Your Account?

Yes, actually, I’m quite certain. I'm a loud angry woman and, generally speaking, I know what I would like.
Please Tell Us The Reason For Your Decision To Leave MySpace/Facebook/Orkut/The Hapless By-Product of Your Shirking Self-Regard.
Try as I might, I’m finding it difficult to enunciate. Although I have spent the last hour sweeping my social-networking residue from your sullied floors, I’m not sure I can pinpoint the reason. Something brought on this fit of emotional tidiness.
I couldn't say what.
Particularly as I am just the type to be seduced by such enticement. Give me an easy, uncensored forum for giddy text. Give me the opportunity to build a persona by arranging words, cultural objects and obscenity. I’ll devote hours to such onanism. I will.
Let me be clear: facebook provides little but unyielding fun, fascination and a locus to use adverbs like “pigfuckingly” to the delight of one’s peers. Many of the citizens who inhabit this realm are literate and compelling.
I (of all people) should love it. And love it fitfully for a spell I did.
After a frenzied few days of exchange, however, it seemed I had to commit facebook Seppuku. Either that or die of a slow egoistic consumption like a virtual Mary Shelley. Bits of my diseased respiratory system would fly out of my mouth as I obsessively egested *cough* the last few items in my facebook CD rack *sputter*.
I made a vow not to build myself entirely from the artefacts that surround me some months ago now. It seems I quite forgot and immersed myself utterly in the cultural field of someone else’s chilling software.
My accounts have been deleted and already I wonder how I shall know myself for the rest of the morning. This will be a day without a “wall” of comments to consult; without the record of my Alltime Favourite Bands (How complex am I, btw. Suicide, Eno and Candi Stanton?!); without a public gallery of photographs that make me look much more confident than I have any right to be.
So, that’s it. Until the next 2.0 diversion, I suppose.
I’m occupying this space as an orthodox old blogger and replaying the Top Down traditions into which I was born.

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