Facing Facebook

I haven’t deleted Facebook. That would amount to locking the door after the assassin has entered the house.

I open FB in order to dismiss notifications. Then I quickly exit, like slamming a window shut to keep a hornet from flying up my nose. I’m sure FB continues to snoop, but at least it doesn’t have my explicit connivance.

Nor have I downloaded my FB data. It’s too disturbing to revisit how I’ve opened my kimono there, spreading my cheeks, munching engagement bait to feed the worm.

If I sound dyspeptic your hearing is acute. Personal computing in the eighties, when I stumbled into it, wasn’t corrupt and invasive and predatory. It had promise. But the promise is broken, and I spy no fix ahead.

(Copyright 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.)

About JMN

I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day. I like to read and memorize poetry.
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