Every time I open Facebook I see a baby, a kid, a pet, or a plate of food. Sometimes I see a guitar, a bike, nail-art, a mountain, or a religiously inspired collection of words – though these, rarely in French. I also see likes, dislikes, thank yous and you’re welcomes. Depending how advanced in life you happen to be; crushing candies and farm animals. Most of what I see looks like what you see. But I see more babies than my 15-year-old daughter who sees more nail art and boy-bands; my mother sees more silver-haired trips to Europe… But there is something none of us see.
Facebook ignores death. They do everything they can to mirror your every movement and sentiment, apart from putting a phone in your pocket, or no, they’re trying that as well. Facebook just can’t decide how to deal with death, a bit like in real life. How do we deal with death? Obviously, each individual deals differently, but in some fashion everyone celebrates death. They put flowers on the side of the road, throw flowers on the sea, bow their heads in prayer, or gather for a dinner. You can quit Facebook of course, but how do you celebrate your departure?
If I’ve had enough of Planet-Facebook, and I can’t take any more hamburgers, smiling kids in Halloween costumes, senior prom photos, or inspirational phrases, and I decide it’s time, it’s time for me to leave and find an electronic resting place with fewer cats, what can Facebook do for me? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
I’m sorry to go, I’ll miss you my friends, those that I’ve met on my travels through life, all of your kids and brilliant sayings. I’ll miss you, but you should all have fair warning that I’m leaving, shouldn’t you? We might want to fix a meeting on the other side of the curtain.
I’m imagining a Facebook Death-0-Timer or a kill switch Zuck. (Don’t hesitate to steal the idea, it’s all yours and I promise I won’t come after you for a little check, not before the movie.) I imagine my profile disintegrating, slowly, based on my Facebook death settings. Slowly my old photos disappear, my insightful commentary fades away, all of my data goes in the trashcan on the corner of your screen, and on the day and time of my choosing my profile goes black.
My friends, might even like it.