Image Credit: Compilation/Jennifer Stahn

It has been suggested by some well-meaning but misguided acquaintances that I should join the Facebook. Why on earth would I want to do that?

Like all so-called “social media” the Facebook was invented for youths as a simple, jargon-infused way of exchanging photographs of themselves with no clothes on and finding out where the best parties were on any given evening, all without discovery by clueless parental units. As such it served a purpose; now it has been totally over-run by us wrinklies, with devastating results.

In an effort to convince me, a person of the opposite sex showed me her own page on the Facebook. It reminded me of those dreadful magazines you only ever find in dentists’ waiting rooms. There was a preponderance of appalling clichés masquerading as aphorisms. Mostly these were of the “Just Be Yourself” variety (as opposed, perhaps, to Just Being George Clooney, which strikes me as an infinitely better idea) and were accompanied by pictures of horses and annoyingly cherubic children, some with wings. The horses and the children.

There were endless stupid little quizzes, the sole purpose of which was to compare oneself with something absurd: “What insect are you??????? I GOT DUNG BEETLE!!!!!!!” Did I mention the punctuation? The Facebook is a veritable breeding ground for question and exclamation marks and like pond weed they have choked out less robust but far more functional species such as apostrophes and semi-colons.

The person of the opposite sex seemed delighted that she could see what her “friends” were up to. Mostly they were up to bragging about scoring twelve million points annihilating pictures of jelly beans, or disseminating bizarre and potentially harmful recipes for things like Jalapeño Fudge.

And then there were the cats. Oh my God, the cats!!!!!! Don’t get me wrong, I like cats, but seriously??????????? Dammit.

The corruption of the Facebook from something potentially useful to this ragbag of ghastliness is a dire warning of the consequences of allowing digital technology to fall into the hands of anyone over 50. And it doesn’t stop there. The Facebook is far from the only means of communication we’ve captured from the young. We’ve taken up Twitting too, because the world will be a better place if half its population know what retirees had for breakfast. All-Bran mostly. #yawn. Instagram is clogged with pictures of us deck-bowling on our latest cruise to the Snoring Islands. We’ll have Snapchat soon too. After all, just because we’re old and fat doesn’t mean we can’t send nude “selfies” to people we hardly know.

This purloining of their media must be intensely irritating to teenagers, mustn’t it? They work so hard to develop adult-unfriendly ways to share their paltry secrets, and each lasts about as long as a fairground goldfish before Grandma and Grandpa are using them to swap denture stories. It must drive them crazy.

And that alone is reason enough for me to join.

— Don't expect the Grumpy Old Git to like anything, but this poking thing sounds interesting.

News from © iNFOnews, 2014