An Open Letter of Gratitude and Challenge to Facebook
Dear Facebook,
Thanks for kicking me off your site-and for not listening to me when I tried to talk you around your insane reinstatement policies. I know that probably sounds weird, so allow me to elaborate.
Like many denizens of the Internet, I happily joined your little club a few years back so I could connect with my friends. I had my doubts about your usefulness at times, and there was some strife, but I mostly enjoyed it while I was there.
Then a few weeks ago, you changed your policy. You started requiring phone number registrations to ensure that everyone was playing fair and only had ONE Facebook. That was both the craziest and most generous thing you could have done for me.
There are probably some of your users that don't know what I'm talking about. Change takes time, my friends. Like annoying new layouts, it too will come to you.
Anyway, I avoided putting in my phone number for as long as possible, but eventually I had no choice.
You rejected me, Facebook, and that hurt, I'll admit. But I'm socially awkward enough to not always recognize when I'm not wanted, even in the face of such direct rejection, so I persevered.
So did you. Like the mean girls that use increasingly less-subtle hints until they finally scream, "GO AWAY, YOU LOSER, BEFORE WE CALL OVER THE FOOTBALL TEAM!!!" you kept on until I got the point.
I begged to be allowed to stand close to you and absorb cool by association, but you made ridiculous demands like photocopies of secure legal documents of identity.
And that was when I understood. It wasn't cool ions you were emitting, it was fucking crazy radiation.
Sure, you promised not to plaster them all over the walls or use them to buy yourself a new car or whatever, but I am from the Internet. I know better.
Since then, I have still had moments of longing where I wanted to come back. The damage was probably already done to my soul, why not? I almost caved and sent you those documents several times.
Today I am glad I did not.
I just found out that you're trying to be sneaky bastards again and because you won't let me into your sekrit clubhouse, your stupid rules don't apply to me!
THAT, MY DEAR, IS WHAT THE INTERNET CALLS AN EPIC FAIL.
You can sneakily attempt to claim a trademark on such common words as "face", "poke", "book", and "wall", but I refuse to play along. I am not calling my books anything else and I am not going to pay you any kind of compensation if I do.
Sure, you may say you aren't planning to come after little old me personally, but I have seen how far your crazy extends and the possibility is still there.
I say BRING IT. I have always wanted my day in court, and using it to pwn your ridiculously stupid asses would please me greatly.
Sincerely,
I Had An Ancestor Who Blatantly Cheated At the Olympics. Do Not Think You Can Out-Crazy Me.