The Fat Man Today

I had a more incensed post about Facebook planned earlier today, but Live Writer is a genius. It ate the whole thing when I tried fixing its HTML code. Bravo Windows Live Writer. You are made of 100% win. And by win, I mean you fail. In life. Terribly. Like Macaulay Culkin. Anyway. I was on Facebook earlier today—one of the few times I’m on the service—and I notice how there are only three kinds of posts: People trying to be cool. People trying to be witty. People trying to hide the fact that they can’t stand some things about their friends so they’re attacking them from the side without their knowledge. Because they can’t stand confronting the friend, so they think this is a smarter move. Because time changes everything, time heals all wounds, and if they don’t do anything about it, then it might fix itself like a miracle. And pigs might fly. People have way too much access to online social media. And half of these people have no idea of what to do while they’re there. Hell, s...

I detest Facebook. Detest it because it consists of nothing but the detritus of all human waste. Day in and day out, you see nothing but people posting about pedestrianism, the last meal they ate, something cool (!) on the Internet, or their latest kitty photo. I’m guilty of all that, except that I take photos of my food AFTER it’s been eaten, and my cat is a macho noisy lazy butt who can put all of your Caturday photos to shame. I copied my girlfriend in that we both decided to skip checking Facebook all the time, and just go back to it every so often—in my case, every weekend, unless work demands it, in which case I probably don’t check it properly at all.

A post from the New York Times says that Electronic Arts is up for grabs. CTRL-ALT-DEL made a parody of the whole thing, stating that the company could be bought for a measly $100. Which isn’t that far off, seeing as to how, if the news report can be trusted, EA stocks sell for $13.09 apiece.