Facebook Ultimatums

Facebook, first you insult my levels of social aptitude by implying I’m lonely, and now you’re offering me ultimatums?!? Well guess what, I don’t play by the rules. I don’t even know the rules. I don’t even know what game we’re playing.

Facebook has formed a barrier between me and internet freedom. Standing betwixt me and every climax, preventing my perusal of every punch line, restraining my attempted ascent to the summit of every internet witticism, is the same thing.

Facebook is holding content ransom. The price? A like.

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Virtually Documented Popularity

Cameras. Camaraderie.

I hate it. I hate pictures.

I hate smiling. I hate you.

When exactly did social documentation become a legal obligation? Why does every creature with opposable thumbs and access to a camera feel a contractual commitment to chronicle every aspect of every social event in a catalogue of depressing images? Why are there hundreds of pictures of my stupefied face plastered carelessly along the fractured walls of the internet, none of which I endorsed, wanted, or even knew about until I was tagged in them several weeks after said social event took place? Why?! Answer me!

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