Facebook went down the other day and what a blessing it was. I like keeping up with friends but I hate the commercials I have to scroll through to reach them. If scrolling can be counted as an aerobic exercise, I’m fit.
Promos aren’t the only reason I needed a break. I’m tired of proprietary messages, encouraging me to improve the number of “likes” I receive on my page. If I got more “likes” the previous week compared to the present one, should I imagine I’ve offended someone?
Why do I care about “likes”? I have no products to sell. No commercials appear on my blog. One or two companies have asked to ride my wave, but I’ve declined. I don’t want to feel pressured by advertisers.
Even so, Facebook repeatedly asks if I want to boost my fan base? I have to wonder if these new fans would be real or bot ghosts. In any case, a few good friends is all I need.
One of my discoveries during the blackout was about an option called demetrication. It’s a way to unquantify myself. (“I am Immeasurable,” by Arielle Pardes, Wired, March 2019, pg. 26-27.) I can make all those “likes” go away, if I choose. The procedure on Facebook, looks geeky, so I haven’t tried it, afraid I might erase myself.
The Google groups method looks even harder. In fact, I came upon a Twitter page that left me feeling eerie. No one had made an entry since 1999. Could I have discovered a wasteland of demetricated people, those who had no way to rematerialize?
No doubt the explanation is less sinister. If demetrication lacks enthusiasts, it’s probably because most people don’t mind being painted by the numbers