Facebook helps you feel embarrassed for others upon seeing them logically defeated on someone’s Wall in a political argument during which unseemly amounts of nationalism, pro life beliefs, faith and/or rage are displayed.
I don’t think “creeper,” or “stalker” properly defines a person who uses Facebook to gather some information about a friend or neighbor. After all, even digging into the deepest pockets of a Facebook profile is still just observing what the user made available to the public. It’s not like the “Facebook stalker” is rifling through someone’s underwear drawer.
At the same time, however, it’s the reason I don’t talk much anymore. Each status I make is one I make with a certain amount of thought. No names are ever shared, no details ever too vivid. Passive-aggressive statements have been retired to the shelf along with goth make-up.
Have a full-time job. The routine of being awake by 9:00 is a crucial first step on this path to obsessive time delineation. No one with the day off ever wastes their day staring at a computer – well, no one as cool you you. You must be good at your job. This doesn’t mean being prideful and snobby about it, just efficient.
A twelebrity can give you a Twitter Expansion of Benefits and Reputation, or Twix bar, by including your username in one of their tweets. That tweet will be seen by their hundreds of thousands of followers, many of which might start following you. You can engage these twelebrities by both tweeting at them or retweeting their tweets.
4. Getting booted from the Internet and having to start a download from scratch 5. Searching for my name, “Stephanie,” and downloading every search result (they were all pretty bad; save for “Hey Stephanie!” by Gob and “Stephanie Says” by Velvet Underground) 6. Downloading corrupted files that were half song and half screeching, scrambled white noise
I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is reach for my phone; I sift through the notifications; who ‘Likes’ my pictures? Who has replied to me, mentioned me? I am hooked on the feedback drip. Increasingly I feel less sure of myself in real conversations; I can’t read faces. Real people are a blank mirror. I clutch the cold glass brick of my hand in my palm to feel better.
Here’s a hilarious somewhat thought-provoking video about privacy on Facebook. It’s so strange how the Millennials are more or less comfortable giving a machine their personal information, but not another human being…
Do I have a career right now? Will I refer to this time as part of my career later? When am I going to have a career? Is this a career? Is this life, or is life going to happen later? Is everyone still getting married and settling down? Is that something everyone’s eventually going to do? Or did everyone stop doing that? Like, you know how everyone’s parents got married and then got divorced? Is that our destiny?
And it’s so gently unsettling that now, for the first time in human history, we have this funny, innocent little peephole into the lives of others. An acquaintance, an old flame, in any other period of history, would have faded away just as quickly as they came–now, they are here indefinitely. They linger on the bottom of our screens, they pop up in our news feeds, they are still here.