It's on February 11.
My birthday. Livejournal, Facebook, and any other e-communication system is passing this to everyone they think I know. To inspire more use of their communications media, and pass paid advertising messages to you somewhere on this screen (or even before they let you see the screen).
This doesn't please me. Not because they are trying to make money, but because they are using my birthday to do it.
I don't need it broadcast that, according to Google (which has an entry for "Feburary 11" as for all other dates), I was born the same day as Jeb Bush (43rd governor of Florida) or P.J. Sparkxx (American pornographic actress). Or that Rene Descartes (he thought therefore he was) and Frank Herbert (he wrote Dune and...other stuff) died on my birthday.
And I resent the way the globalist corporate mindset has decided it's a _service_. The (local) corporation which manages my apartment complex, and which has no heart or soul when rent is a day late, is all bubbly and sweet when it's my birthday. Balloons appear attached to the doorknob with bright ribbons. I want to be the one who decides what service is. I'm happy to get a note from a human, but I don't know if you sent it or your account did it automatically. I don't want "2-11" to trigger automatic reactions from electronic entities around the world, ignorant of what "heart" and "soul" and "service" (to say nothing of "art") mean, initiating an anemic little exchange that seems to be conversation but is in fact just data sent between servers. I am not a number! I am a free man!
And the older I get the more grumpy I am about it.
PS But you CAN still wish me "happy birthday." Just not your machine.