Why I Hate F... book

OK, so this is long overdue.
For one, I have been neglecting my blog here for half a year.
But today's subject is one I've been meaning to broach for a while, inspired by a campaign whose timeline may now be measured in years.
Namely one waged by well-meaning friends for me to get my own... arrrgggghhh ... Facebook - there, I said it - page.
Will that happen any time soon?
Not fucking likely.
Wow.
Serious profanity on Ian's blog.
A first.
Why am I so anti-'book?
That's a fantastic question.
On paper, I should lovingly embrace the concept. Really.
As a card-carrying ENFP (google that, in the event that I haven't already buried you in my long rambling dissertations about the wonders of MBTI) I am nothing if not all about the need for open lines of communication amongst all humankind, in all forms.
The idea - and I stress the word "idea" - that we all should have our own little e-portal to our immediate social network sounds good. One-stop shopping to catch up with all the important goings-on and happenings of my friends and family? Hell, where do I sign up?
Alas, The Dream and The Reality are sadly different.
Very different.
This F-book business is much like television. In theory, it's a fantastic medium to disseminate information and entertainment to the masses. And for a few decades, TV did a passable job at doing just that. But turn it on these days, and have a random gander. It's frightening. Out of the 70 or 80 channels we currently have at home, I'd say about 3 to 5 or so offer consistently watchable content. Maybe 10 more do so occasionally. The rest should be heaved straight into the dumpster.
Why?
Because no matter how much high quality, though-provoking programing you offer folks these days, for the most part they just want a quick fix. Something to distract them. And they don't mind if its crap. The result is I have to wade through nearly a hundred channels over a period of hours in order to find one golden nugget of hope. If it weren't for HBO, Bravo or PBS, I might very well give up on humanity all together.
Herein lies the problem with the 'book.
I love the idea that people can go to this place, find old and new acquaintances, and share thoughts, ideas and experiences in a near real-time environment. But there's a fatal flaw. This concept presumes that people can:

A. Restrain themselves to reporting items that are actually worth sharing
and
B. Invest the time required to report them in any kind of meaningful detail.

This, sadly, is a loooonnnnggg way from the reality of it..
You disagree?
Go ahead, open your page.
I dare you.
What do you see?
Scared to look?
OK, I'll take a deep breath, go in there, and tell you...

Person A has just finished a particularly large load of laundry.
Person B is debating on the merits of brand X cat food over Brand Y, but since their friend, Person C, is a "Fan" of Brand Y, they may be leaning that way.
Person D is glad it's Friday.
Person E is bursting with pride over his newly found agricultural proclivity by growing the biggest pumpkin ever measured on something called - wait for it, it's too clever - Farmville.
Person F is sharing a Facebook fortune cookie she's received, bearing the incredible wisdom that "they are too busy and need to take a break".
Person G is excited because she's going to a restaurant. Where they serve food.
Person J is sad because he's found a lost squid with a gimpy tentacle that needs a home on something called - the creativity here is just killing me - Zoo World...

Are you seeing a trend here?
Now, before you go and chalk up most of what I related just now to the usual Ian-strength brand of creative license, I will officially go on record here as saying - in the famous words of Dave Barry - I am not making this up. Save for my slightly embellished representations of the virtual animals, those were all 100% real, live postings.
So basically then, more than 90% of what circulates on this site is, please pardon my continued forthright crudeness here, pure, unadulterated shit.
Now in all fairness, if you have any kind of friends with something resembling a multiple digit IQ score, you may occasionally stumble across something noteworthy. Pictures and stories of an interesting trip somewhere. The birth of a new child. A link to a thought-provoking website.
But these are few and far between.
Very, very far between.
You in turn may argue that I'm looking at the wrong stuff. That much like modern digital TV, there is indeed tidal waves of BS out there, but one need only pick the few "channels" that offer safe intellectual haven. And for a moment there, I thought this a premise not without merit.
But as I was to discover, you'd be wrong.
You see, beyond having a great family I can rely on for just about anything, I am extremely blessed in having collected over the decades a very large group of bright, talented and loyal friends. At any given moment, if I am in need of advice, a laugh or a word of encouragement, I need only drop in or pick up the phone and call any one of them. Wisdom and support are but a short drive or a dial tone away.
But many of these same said brainy and inspiring individuals do in fact have Facebook pages.
To which my girlfriend is linked.
And you know what?
It don't work!
All of that great insight, emotion, brain trust, wisdom and story telling ability seems to get sucked right down the Black Hole of 'book.
Why?
I think in essence what Facebook does is reduce our lives to a form of texting.
It needs to be fast. A few pictures, a word here or there, a comment back and forth.
But zero substance.
To illustrate the point, let's take a friend I'll call "H" (you were wondering where she was in the alphabet back there, weren't you?). H is a perfect example of what happens when you take a vivacious, articulate, outspoken and extremely interesting person and "bookify" her.
H is a world traveller par excellence, constantly changing jobs, trying everything from teaching karate to racing sail boats, meeting new people, living in exotic places... in many ways living the life I wish I could (no surprise as H is also an ENFP). Over the years she's been kind enough to share these amazing adventures with her friends through long, beautifully crafted e-mails, rich with the kind of details and storytelling that make you think you're right there beside her, waves crashing over the bow, sea spray in your face. Now we didn't always get them that often. But when we did, they were gifts to be savored.
Then H found The 'book.
Now you can see her there every day. Let me first at least thank God (and Buddha, and Allah and every other deity in the top ten these days) that she doesn't appear to be farming any virtual vegetables, or advertising the need to find a home for lost, blind, albino cartoon crickets. But the content has changed vastly. Instead of long, graceful tales of adventure, we get but a few quick words and the odd photo.
What was once a 10 course feast for the mind served in the finest restaurant has now become fast food.
So sad.
Now, in H's defense, at least it's bio, gourmet fast food.
As for 99% of the rest you'll find out there, well, it wouldn't even rank as mental poutine.
Indeed, if it were actually intended to be comestible, I suspect you'd have a hard time certifying it as pet food in a former Soviet bloc state.
More frightening still, I get invites all the time from people who have career-oriented 'book pages. If you seriously think you're gonna get ahead in the world by networking your way up alongside Aunt Betty's quest to grow the biggest beet, I think you need to re-examine your strategy.
Real soon.
I suppose on the whole it should come as no surprise. The 'book is just one more step in humankind's ever accelerating drive to distill life into small, fast moving packets. Like texting and tweeting - two other practices I abhor - it's all about speed over substance.
Now there are many realms where speed is a great and powerful enabler, ask anyone who is old enough to remember it taking a week to cross the country compared to a few hours now.
Or for the younger generation, try surfing with a 28K modem.
But you will never, ever convince me to stray from the notion that sharing thoughts and words in some respectful form with family, friends and business contacts should be reserved for when the time permits to do so properly.
I'm by no means against change. And I'm not saying that the concept of a meaningful social networking site is impossible.
In fact, I actually have a - gasp - MySpace page.
Now I don't use it for much, but in my mind when MySpace was created, it had a simpler, nobler purpose. This was the idea that you could create yourself a little lounge on the web where people could come in, meet you and see what you were into. People seem to spend more time and effort there decorating, writing, at least putting some thought into the content. And some of the blogging I've come across there is fantastic. But largely I respect The 'Space because it seems to perform a different function in people's lives:
It's a place to park your electronic self.
Not replace your real one.

If the 'book model is really the way society is going, and at the moment it sure as hell looks like it is, I can only hope that someone at least comes up with a format that will lend itself to encouraging substance in the exchange.
The PBS of social networking sites, as it were.
Maybe I should call or e-mail those really awesome think-tank types over at ted.com.
They still have telephones and Outlook, right?