It’s hard to imagine a time without Facebook, but believe me, it existed – I was there. It was a time when everyone strived to have smaller mobile phones and Saddam Hussein was still hiding in a bunker clutching a bag of Funsize Mars Bars and a copy of Nuts Magazine. But “How?!” I hear you all sing. Well, if you remember correctly, right before the FB revolution the world was grasped lovingly in the clutches of MySpace – a social networking site that allowed the user to design their very own profile page. Or realistically, it allowed you to create a false image that would make you more appealing to the world around you. You could advertise yourself looking like an attractive, confident, sexual being. Whereas in reality you were insecure, incredibly boring and a little fat. But nobody had to know.
And then in 2007 along came a new site called Facebook. “Facebook?” we all scoffed, but before we knew it, we were looking at ‘Vicky’s’ holiday photos which consisted of girls in their early twenties rubbing lotion on each other. And hence, the Facebook phenomenon was born.
I often ponder what it is we love about Facebook so much? Of course one distinct advantage FB had over MySpace was that people could be tagged in other peoples’ photos meaning that you weren’t always sold a one-way perspective – You could tell if they were …. ‘suitable’ or not. For me – as I’ve written before in a previous post – Facebook is best suited for flirting with people, posting photos of you and your friends either looking good or really drunk, and – most importantly – dishing out abuse.
Personally, for the past 5 years Facebook was going swimmingly well, but recently, something changed.
I’m pretty sure there used to be a time that whenever I logged on I would be greeted by photos posted of young women flaunting their half-naked bodies on their so called girls’ night out. Now all I get is photos of other people’s babies. Gone is the irresponsible slutty behaviour, replaced instead by photographs of children smiling and looking all cute. Who are these people? And what happened to the slippery nipples and crass finger signs telling everyone to ‘get lost’?
Apparently these people posting the photos of kids WERE those bikini-clad rum-slugging badgers. Apparently they’re the ones having these baby things. Nobody told me that.
It appears the people who you kept as ‘friends’ so you could vet them for future sexual encounters (that may or may not happen) have all grown up and got married. You know this because their wedding photos have been posted. Smiley, happy together. But do I care? No I don’t. I had you tagged as a ‘friend’ because I may have harboured a desire to rub my naughty stick against you. But now, now you’re married and, well, I’m as good as married. So, you know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. But you did. So let’s move on.
Before you know it, these people are having babies and posting photos of their little creations. You never bargained for this. But it doesn’t matter. It just makes you realise your shallow motivations for befriending people in your early 20s. Eventually people are gonna stop posting half-naked photos. Instead they’ll move on to posting ‘Cup of tea by the seaside’. This is an inevitability you were unaware of back then. They used to play lesbians, now they have tea and stroke babies. That’s life.
So what does this all mean? Does this mean I’m getting old? Some would point to yes. Some would argue that I should stop posting photos of myself in bikinis. Maybe they have a point. My suggestion is that this could be the beginning of the end for our friend FB.
Realistically what benefit does Facebook hold for those the wrong side of 30? It was once a celebration of youth. Now all we get is to see people fall victim to a weight problem. Very slowly, over time. Hair loss. Wrinkled eyes. It’s all one big reminder that we’re getting older. Or old. It’s like that scene from Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade when the Nazis drink from the wrong chalice. Their skin falls from their bones as they look onto each other with a sense of startling horror. Facebook is exactly like that. I promise. Only very slowly.
And now you Mark. Mark ‘I invented Facebook to spy on girls in order to get laid’ Zuckerberg. You have got married. I suppose now you’ll just wanna go do some married stuff and forget about us. Shame on you. What will we do? Who will represent they ‘like’ me with a push of a button? Who will want to be friends without meeting? Where else can I peruse peoples’ holidays and touch myself without their knowledge? AAAAAARGH! The end is nigh!
Anyone for tennis?
You can now follow Alfie at The Huffington Post