Life Without Facebook

I am a rebel. A contrarian. A hermit. Why? I don't have a Facebook account. I run against the grain of society and its social network brothels. And you know what? I feel great.

I recently visited Facebook again, for the purpose of permanently deleting the blasted thing (a process which requires a two-week waiting period in case you were just going through a rough spot in the relationship and you want to start back up once more), and I was immediately called by the honey-sweet siren song of the social norm, luring me in like so it can bombard me with geotargeted advertising. However, I lashed myself to the mast and told Facebook that it wouldn't have anymore information from me!

. . . Except everything about me is probably still contained on a dozen people's profile pages and saved on fifteen redundant Facebook servers.

I liken Facebook to a relationship with a girl. If, on the off chance, you say, "you know, we've been at this dating thing awhile; I think we should take a little time off," and you reach over to deactivate your account (maybe you're on a dare; maybe you're giving it up for Lent [I'm not sure who would stop dating on Lent {although, yes, I'm sure there are people out there who do that sort of thing}]), a little screen will pop up saying "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Are you sure you want to do this?" and will list individual people who "will desperately miss you," in an attempt to garner some feeling of emotion from your apparent heart of stone.
If you insist that you're really going to take a "break," Facebook will sniffle, wipe a tear from its eye, and say, "That's all right. Your account will be waiting for you the next time you log on. I love you."

It doesn't say that last bit.

And so I put all traces of emotion beside me and severed all ties with the site. I am now single. In a social-networking sense. I didn't really mean it like that. Yeah . . .

As one of the first people in my grade at my high school to sign up to Facebook, I felt kind of like I was one of the patriarchs of the Web site. I had a certain sense of pride to be at the forefront of a pragmatic networking tool that allowed easy access to my friends. To see it manhandled and degraded by entropy's dusty fingers seemed wrong in some way. Now, I proudly disassociate myself from the Web site.

To put it plainly, I don't need a Web page where a user can access my personal information and view some of my thoughts and musings.

Oh, wait . . .

Thanks for reading.

Post Script: For the rest of humanity still attached to Facebook, Evan Smith has graciously agreed to link my blog with his profile. Hopefully new posts will begin appearing on the site shortly.



Phenomenal. Stupendous. Glorious. The Mae concert at Eureka College on the 22nd was so ludicrously awesome to behold that my usual stoic self was transformed into a babbling, giddy fan girl screaming at the top of her lungs. I managed, through the prodding of Laura, to get signatures from four out of the five members (the fifth managed to disappear completely after the show).

Yeah. It was that good. It was like eating a medium-grilled New York strip in a self-massaging cashmere sweater while simultaneously riding on the back of a unicorn that's flying through the air at mach speed. And it's raining Zebra Cakes.

To those of you who do not know this fantastic band, a pox on you. Go to playlist.com right now, type in Mae, and listen to this solid rock band. They have three great albums (I'm being conservative with Singularity), and a couple EPs. And you, reader, deserve to be exposed to good music. Thus it is demonstrated.

You know, as I lay in my bed after the concert, mulling over the night's events, I came to realize how great The Everglow really is. I mean, I knew it was a barrel of distilled magnificence, but come on, it's a perfect album, from start to finish. It's an experience.

The immaculate nature of this album inevitably brings into account the imperfections of the music tastes that most people have. For all the Everglows in the world, there are a dozen-and-a-half mediocre albums that people inevitably listen to.

However, I shall hold off on that debate for a while; it tends to be very volatile. People dogmatically defend the music they enjoy, saying that "it has a catchy beat!" and "they have good voices, when not electronically enhanced!"

Hmm? I'm doing the same thing, you say? Well, the difference is, my taste in music is superior to yours. More on that coming up.

For now, know this: Mae is a great band who is worthy of your time. Look into them.

Thanks for reading.