It actually gave me physical pain to type that “your.” Being the grammar nazi I am, I feel magnetically compelled to correct it right now, as I can’t bear to be associated with it, but I have to leave it that way to make my point.
Facebook. It’s the most fun waste of time ever. I love reading people’s statuses, seeing pictures, laughing at funny memes that George Takei posts several times daily, and sometimes others’ posts are the only way I know what’s going on in the world.
There are many things that irritate me on Facebook as well, but today, boys and girls, I’m here to talk about one thing in particular about Facebook that drives me bat-s*** crazy.
The pictures that pop up in my feed with little children or animals or whatever that are supposed to tug on my heartstrings. Lately I’ve seen pictures of little kids with huge tumors bulging from their bodies, little babies fighting cancer. Or it’s the soldier holding his baby before he leaves for Afghanistan, the neglected puppy or kitty (Sarah McLachlan anyone? In the arms of the angellllsss). Whatever. You’ve seen them. I know you have. They’re everywhere.
They tug at my heartstrings too. I’m not completely dead inside. I’m not bothered by the pictures themselves. I’m bothered by the guilt trip attached. Instead of just a picture, I get this: “One like = one prayer. Keep scrolling if you are a cold, heartless bitch.”
Okay, perhaps it’s not so abrupt, but it might as well be. A lot of times it is a grammatical nightmare, as shown in my title of this blog, in which case I will not like because I will not associate myself with poor grammar, lest I be found guilty by association.
The other kind I see are pictures showing disabled people. Well, I guess “disabled” would be a subjective term. I would not know how disabled they are, if at all. I guess “different” would be a better term. There’s one I’ve seen floating around Facebook with two people who appear to have the aging disease. Underneath the picture: “One like = respect. Ignore if you don’t.”
“Like if you love Jesus and know he is your savior. Comment if you hate him.”
These pictures bring out the rebel in me. I will not like them or comment on them out of sheer principle alone. Yes, I respect the people in the picture, but who knows who these people are and how old the picture is in the first place? And does it affect their lives in any way, shape or form if I do or don’t “like” it? Of course I wish the best for the little baby hooked up to all the tubes, and I pray for all sorts of folks, but putting it on Facebook does not strengthen my prayer. AND there is no surgeon that is going to give a free surgery to anyone if they can get a million likes for their picture.
Doesn’t anyone remember the Taco Bell dog from the ’90s? If we forwarded that email to 10 people, the Taco Bell Chihuahua would run across the screen? Or Bill Gates would give us money or a free trip to Disneyland if we forwarded the email? Are we still that gullible?
I love this one:
This gets an eye roll from me, and maybe the middle finger in my mind. I love my mom. Don’t we all? But sorry, Mom, you will never see this on my page because to me, this is a given. The same goes for, “Like if you love your son/daughter.” AAAAGHHHH! Make it stop.
The only thing these posts are intended to do is guilt you into liking them so they clutter up your friends’ Facebook pages, so they in turn can be guilted into liking them. Because what kind of human doesn’t love their mom? What kind of person doesn’t want the little baby to get well?
I think it’s a cool picture, but I’m kinda indifferent to it. I don’t like it enough to “like” it. I do not know these people nor their circumstances, so I’m just going to move on.
I’m here to say that it’s okay, more than okay, to look at the picture, say a little prayer in your head for the poor thing – two Act of Contritions, four Hail Marys and five Our Fathers if you’re Catholic, and then move on.
“Share if you really want to. Like it because you like it, but not because it equals ANYTHING that some nimrod on Facebook says it does.” – Marilyn Monroe