who invites me to his cyber-”farm”
I love social media for what it can be. I love the interconnectivity that technology today allows bridging gaps even half a world apart via common interests, groups, or fan pages. I fully embrace the idea that with the landscape of free information exchange can allow for artists and other skilled or interesting people to have their voice heard or their art seen. I have used Facebook and other platforms to advertise, promote, and share my particular brand of venomous content with the masses (or at least the dozens). No one can say I don’t like where media and technology is going, but what I fucking hate is your fucking farm.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people are involved in these little games and apps on Facebook. I waste a lot of my time on Facebook, but I do it chatting, keeping up with friends, or reconnecting with old pals from back in the day. I can’t imagine how much time I would be flushing like a deuce if I banned together with you in Frontierville. Is this how you people are connecting on Facebook, though games? It is bad enough that your grammar is atrocious and you status updates consist of who should be voted off Idol or how tasty your peanut butter sandwich is. But now all you do is play games together?
I will not humor your desire to collect blankets to wrap your duckling in. I won’t placate your desire for me to join your gang or fight dragons. I will not join your mob, now will I be your neighbor, and I won’t even help you and your oxen ford a river in Oregon Trail, even for old times sake. I will burn your farm to the ground, I will shoot your oxen, and I will snitch on everyone in your mob; every Stuttering Tony from Queens. There, I said it. If it was my option in life I would choose to rain down pestilence on your little frontier children and wish a pox on everyone in your farming subdivision. I hate your pixelated little hearts.
Facebook is designed specifically for profiles and connecting. Sure, over the years it went from college-only to having to censor yourself “Vegas, motherfucker” photo album because your kindly old grandmother just logged onto the interweb and her first order of business was to friend you, but do we really need all of these stupid apps? Please tell me this is not your lame attempt at keeping yourself relevant within the confines of cyberspace. I look down your wall and updates and posts to your farm or gang or guild is all I can find. No friends are chatting on your wall, just you obsessively building a flash-based Beta farm and caring for animals…really? I look at that wall same as I see a hoarder or a drug addict; it’s just sad. You may not want to face the hard truth, but you just might not be any good at communicating with people if this is the only means by which you do it.
You can play your Farmville, your Mafia Wars, and your Dragon whatever, but I would first like you to consider who I am before you send me a request to join your clan. Before you mass invite your friend/strangers-I’ve-never-met-list, I want you to think good and hard whether you want your profile, and to a greater extent you as a person, associated with junk mail. Do you really want your stupid request and your very existence as a digital representation to be synonymous with the likes of 20% off coupon at Jiffy Lube overflowing mailboxes on a weekly basis? Wait, I rescind that…at least there is some use and point to the coupons. With your lame attempts at engaging people through poorly rendered flash games, you have now made yourself less valuable than a discount oil change.