A safe and viable alternative might be to make up a fake name and fake identity, and to use it in order to post comments on other Facebook pages. If I were to resort to that deception it would be strictly above board – my anonymity wouldn’t be meant as a method to abuse F hospitality. I am, despite my eccentricities, 100% well-meaning. But then wouldn’t that defeat the purpose? I mean, if it were called ‘fakebook’… A further complication would no doubt arise from the fact that I’m hard pressed enough as it is to remember my actual user names and passwords. The thought of inventing a new name and identity for myself is just ridiculous. I’d never be able to sign back in again. Just going to an ATM sends shivers down my spine these days (will I remember the pin code? won’t I remember it? It’s a Russian Roulette!)
Why am I so worried, you ask, millions are doing it every day. (And if everyone jumped off a bridge…). Two things mainly. Both equally neurotic.
A couple of months ago I met a woman who told me the government uses Facebook pages to track and mark us. Like tagging, but without the funny bracelets. I thought at the time that she was a big loony (as I slowly backed away) – but raving lunatics have been proven right on occasion. Just a couple of days ago a guy was arrested in Thailand based on his Facebook comments. Having said that, I’m not exactly plotting to bring down the government. (Hmm.. – maybe I should erase that comment – someone with dyslexia might misread it and get the wrong idea, ‘not’ being such a tiny, negligible word). The most radical thing about me is my vertigo.
And as for that other, much more psychologically valid point – I dread the return of the repressed. Isn’t Facebook kind of like love, where you’re always interested in those who are interested in others, while those that are interested in you are always scary individuals with weird and clingy habits? (No, I’m not talking about you, dear!). What if I commit myself to Facebook, only to find that all my friends are people I’ve (successfully) lost along the way, rather than those I’m trying to find?
I feel like Woody Allen contemplating what to put on his bagel. I just don’t know. I need help, or a support group or something. Anyone?