In which our heroes discover that ‘Private’ does not just refer to a well groomed soldier.

A recent news article by The Sunday Times has unveiled Facebook as the lying, perfidious creature we always imagined: a social networking site(!) The article reveals that all along, instead of merely asking us what was on our mind and giving us the ability to share this, for free, with everyone we know, FB was demanding to know our details, hungry as a picketer for a right wing scheme.

Yes, this week Facebook (a chair big enough for him and his ego being finally sourced) admitted to reading the messages of smartphone users who downloaded the app. Shock horror when most of the messages intercepted regarded ‘lols’ (a presumed sub-atomic grouping which may be developed into nuclear arsenal), and ‘TTYLs”, which is some kind of venereal disease plaguing children.

I love that nearly 5 and a half thousand people have shared this on FB. Surely IT already knows that you’ve been going behind its back, and wants blood, HAL-style. This article makes beloved FB out to be some sanguine and malicious construct. Everyone may know how addictive it can be, not just the guy who told me at a Buried in Verona gig that he was going home to do lines of Facebook (?), but since we already share everything in a machine gun status’ updates, what is there for the entity to learn about us? Maybe what we don’t want to share is even more banal than what we do?

And FB’s crimes seem insignificant, like a fashion faux pas at a Midnight Oil concert, when compared to other internet juggernauts (flickr, Yahoo, Youtube). The height of irony, even a “security app” My Remote Lock accesses your personal data. In fact, apparently (so not at all in fact), Youtube can remotely control your device to film and take videos- presumably of the inside of your pocket. Goverment agencies recently sunk 15 billion dollars into battling this illicit control, with the best and most viable defence being to place a little foil hat over your phone’s aerial and to sit in your parent’s unlit basement listening to Journey.

In fact, am I the only one who saw in this the opportunity to deflect one’s girlfriend’s phone melees? -Sorry hon, not tonight, FB may be listening, and you know how angry he gets when we don’t talk about trifling nonsense.

Not only this, but fb will have to employ a cadre of encryption detectives if they want to know what my friend Andrew is saying. This offers a symbiotic and redeeming aspect to the case. I can forward them my messages and they can send me back the essence of his nonsense. For example, they could run unsorted dialect like “du y hav. a weab cam x” and tell me what to reply. In this instance the prudent answer was, “keep your clothes on and stay away from cameras”.

I’ll expect my nice residual to come promptly in the mail, Mark.


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