I've done it. I've deactivated my Facebook account. Not deleted, mind. I'm not quite ready to take that drastic step yet. But quietly and without announcing it to anyone I've put it on hold to see how long I can go without my fix of tedious trivia (what have my friends had for breakfast today?! ooh look, holiday photos from that woman I spoke to for five minutes at a social three years ago). I think there's actually a mathematical formula to calculate how much less than two fucks I could give about whether it's going to snow again in Cornwall when I never go there.
I'd like to say I'm doing it in protest at the Cambridge Analytica datamining scandal. I'd like to say I'm taking a stand and taking back control. I'd like to say I will play no part in the election of despots, the spread of fake news and the dumbing down of society simply because I like to watch videos of collies sledging and get into arguments with strangers about whether dogs should be allowed to sleep on sofas (the collie is pretty cool, to be fair). I'd like to say I'm concerned about causing long-term damage to my attention span (either I can't concentrate anymore or many newspaper articles are unnecessarily long and fall well short of riveting; either is possible).
I'd like to say all that but the truth is it's just become a bit boring. Nobody seems to have anything interesting to say anymore (maybe they're afraid of who's listening). Nevertheless, for all its tedium, I don't seem to be able to keep myself from logging on several times a day. It's like I need my dirty little hit of pointlessness. More worryingly, I've noticed I get grumpy when there are no notifications waiting to greet me. This leads me to suspect that in some way I'm addicted to it and, never having been the type of person to want to be controlled by something else, this I resent. I also resent the fact that I seem to have been hoodwinked into my addiction. I mean, when a gambler enters a bookies at least he knows where he is and what he's there for, right? When an alcoholic picks up a bottle, he might be wrong to think he can control it, but at least he's not kidding himself that it's orange squash in there.
Now, all I have to do is work out what to do with my hands...
