Stuff you can count on. The swallows returning to Capistrano. Taxes. Death. And someone on Facebook having a meltdown over privacy controls.
OMG! Facebook has changed its settings again. Now, it can steal your children and sell them into slavery.”
To which, I shrug. See, this is why I don’t have children. I’m exactly the kind of twisted fiend, who, on tripping over yet another toy in the hallway, would gleefully sell my offspring into slavery.
Nonetheless, I go and check my privacy settings. And, sure enough, they are already set to “Don’t steal my children and sell them into slavery” mode. Much ado about nada.
Facebook sucks. But not because it wants to know your bizness. Well, it does, but it can only know what you tell it (below).
You know why Facebook sucks? Because you can’t customize anything about your profile page. Because the only way to follow someone is to “friend” them. Because the update/comment interface is kludgy and limited (no emoticons, no text formatting). Because, half the time, the update thread is two days behind. Because your granda is on Facebook (and she either never logs on, or she’s constantly on, sending you every stupid app she can find). Because the people you wish were on Facebook, aren’t (or, like grandma, never log on, or turn out to be flibbering techno-feebs who play Farmville).
Facebook’s privacy issues are the least of its sins. But if you’re really worried, if you are convinced that Facebook wants to eat your babies and steal all your left shoes, you should either, not create a Facebook account, or do the following:
*Don’t give Facebook (or any other online venue) any information you want to keep private. You don’t have to use a real birthday. Or even a real name. Facebook doesn’t have any way of verifying your information. Lying to Facebook will not make the baby Jesus cry.
*Lock down all your privacy controls to “friends only,” or “me, only.”
*Don’t play Facebook games or use its apps, all of which harvest information on you and your friends. BTW, I’ll live a long happy life if I don’t get another “Mary found a happy little cow on her property. Will you send her hay?”
No, I won’t. Folks, I married into a ranching family. I have a horse. Do you really think I want to play with your lame-ass, virtual farm? Unless the game is something like Zombie Cows and it features live game play with rampaging undead cattle, count me out. (Yes, I know about “block.” But I had to remove my universal block to enable a widget on this blog. So now I’m back to getting invites to virtual cafes and other assorted shite.)
Nobody wants a cheesy, clipart graphic of a heart, flower or hug. If you think that much of your friend, pick up the bloody phone and give them a call. Or send them a real gift via snail mail. You know what kind of people send virtual hugs and hearts? Your grandma and luddites who thinks their DVD is a cup holder.
*Create a decent password. Or an indecent password. “f*ckityM0nKeE2” is a good password. “1234” or your kid’s name isn’t.
*Don’t friend your boss. Nuff said.
*Lock down your privacy controls to “friends only,” or “me, only.” My friends can’t see my birthday. (I don’t need birthday wishes on my fake birthday.)
*Don’t post nekkid pics of yourself because no privacy controls will protect your from screen shots.
