The Grinch Who Stole Facebook...

I like to think that I'm convivial creature. I enjoy socializing. I'm quite happy to network. One would think this would be naturally conducive to regular use of social networking sites. And yet, for some reason, that is not the case. At least, not anymore. "Out of the loop?", someone asked the other day. Can't even see the loop from here, mate. Not entirely sure I want to be in the loop anymore for that matter.

The loop used to consist of written letters. With the advent of the internet, it became letters and photos emailed back and forth in lightning quick fashion. Gradually it morphed into online profiles with images posted in batches and short comments left here and there for all to see. I was content with all of those things. The loop now consists of my having to let you know my every movement six times a day in short one line bursts with mobile uploads of pictures where I am at the this very moment. In exchange, you haven't got to say anything - you can just give me a digital thumbs up. "Friend likes this!".

It is entirely possibly that lengthy conversations might have taken place online but that was back in the dark ages of social networking, before you had to spend time pretending to farm, clean a fish tank, pass drinks and form alliances in hopes of surviving the ongoing mafia war.

Instant messaging and mobile texting have vanquished the art of letter writing. And now, online applications have killed the art of coherent conversation reducing communication to the equivalent of a cyber grunt in the general direction of people you know (or don't know for that matter).

As if that weren't bad enough. You want me to spend time pretending to farm, clean a fish tank, pass drinks and form alliances in hopes of surviving the ongoing mafia war. And I'd rather not. I have 300 requests to spend time pretending to farm, clean a fish tank, pass drinks and form alliances in hopes of surviving the ongoing mafia war but I've ignored them all. What the online application hasn't killed though is your determination and persistence. For every request to spend time pretending to farm, clean a fish tank, pass drinks and form alliances in hopes of surviving the ongoing mafia war that I ignore, another pops up to take its place. Kudos to you!

In a desperate attempt to salvage some humanity, I went to your profile to see what you were up to and what your interests were or where you'd been. But alas, I couldn't find any helpful information as it was lost beneath a haze of farms, fish tanks, gifts and quizzes about which sitcom character you're most like. So I gave up. And I left Facebook. And I was content for a while.

But then I realized I was beginning to miss vital information. My incoming emails seems on the light side. Someone asked me why I wasn't at such and such. Hang on, did you send an invitation? Do you have my current address? Was there an email I missed somewhere? I distinctly do not remember a voice mail of any kind. "No, no," they said, "there was a message. On facebook."

So, after a six month or more sabbatical, I've come back to the new loop such as it is, albeit grudgingly. I will log in to facebook on a regular basis. I will catch up and be 'in the loop'. What I won't do is spend time pretending to farm, clean a fish tank, pass drinks and form alliances in hopes of surviving the ongoing mafia war. Life has enough drama without my waging fictitious wars with people I actually like. If I want fish, I'll set up shop with an aquarium in the living room. And if I'm going to have drinks given to me, I must insist that they come from a three dimensional person standing in roughly the same vicinity as me so that there is an actual possibility that I might be allowed to indulge in them.

I still won't farm though. In any capacity. Ever.