Do I Stil Exist if I'm not on FaceBook?

If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to post it on Facebook (FB) does it really happen? Given that I’m no longer on FB, this metaphysical question keeps me up at night.  If I’m not on FB, is my life really happening?  Philosophers better get back to the drawing board. Humanity is drowning in Narcissus’ reflecting pool and I'm having an existential crisis. 

You don’t have to be King Tut to build yourself a pyramid.  

All you need is a computer and a FaceBook account.

The premise of Facebook is nothing new. Cave paintings, hieroglyphs, diaries, pictographs and film –FB is fulfilling the prehistoric need to show off.  But the difference is FB is in real-time and worldwide.  FB is the Big Bang to man’s vanity.  Cue the Kardaishans.

I blame Zuckerburg.

There are many positives about Facebook.  Since FB hijacked the word friend, you can collect them like Beanie Babies© : i.e.,  "Look, I have 2,032!"  It provides one with a backseat driver to life  (or 2,032 of them), dispensing digital thumbs up instead of directions. And thanks to the tag option, your most unflattering photos can now be made public for the world.  Let's be honest, the best part about FB is that it’s free admission to cyber-stalk.

My real life friends are cooler than this.

The day I read a status update about a ‘friend’ picking his nose was the day I suspended my account.  Ok, that's a fib. But it’s not a stretch. It frightens me that the desire for public validation has become necessary for even the most mundane, and personal of moments. Does one really need global applause for clipping his toenails?  

Andy Warhol was a psychic genius – 

why Dionne Warwick didn’t hire him is a mystery to me. 

The real reason I’m not on FB anymore is that I’m lazy, and it’s a full time job ‘liking’ everything posted by my Beanie Baby collection. Maybe I’m too self-centered to care.  But if FB is part of our collective conscious, my absence from it theoretically makes me unconscious. I’m like a naked hippie, barefoot in cyberspace and completely oblivious to the birthdays, anniversaries, engagements, and baby/pet announcements of everyone I’ve ever met. And it's ok because I'm busy finding myself on blogger.  Wait, blogger...am I really here?  That's Psychedelic.

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