Yes, it has. In the past month we have talked about the horrors that be in Arizona, abortion in Oklahoma, and President Obama being tried for treason in New York. I would like to think that each article, essay, post, what ever you choose to label them as, have given pleasurable experiences to those readers that manage to stumble upon this treasure. I say treasure, because I would like to think this blog o’ mine is a diamond in the rough, is it? Today, I would like to write something just a little bit different… Stray from the norm.
Let’s talk a little bit about Facebook, and spend a little less time on it for the next few moments. It is the social website we all hate, but are secretly nursing deep affairs with. We bad mouth it to our friends, like we do that one girl from that one night who wore that heinous outfit and said those stupid things but secretly we dish with her every night before we fall asleep. Facebook is that girl.
I remember the day I created an account for Facebook fondly. My account was made when you were required to have a college e-mail, for my high school class, Facebook was a technological rite of passage. Now, just about four years later, 60% of current Facebook users are considering leaving. And, on May 31st, more than 11,000 people have committed to Quit Facebook Day. To complete the downward slope, according to Search Engine land blog, ‘how to delete my Facebook account’ has become an ever-popular search.
Dear Facebook, what happened?
One, Big, Happy Family?
It was probably somewhere along the lines of turning every interest in to a ‘like’ page, or allowing everyone in the world access to my photos, or maybe, it is the fact you have sold me and my profile out for a few shiny bucks. Ugh, thanks a lot.
I used to believe that only friends could view my profile. Then it became friends of friends could see my where abouts. Then, those in my ‘network’ or in my school. Then, it just got really confusing and I stopped keeping track and just set my profile to private. But, alas, in Facebook world private is not included in any dictionary. Facebook has taken the stance that people enjoy sharing, sharing is caring. How far is this sharing going though? Well, if you have given up on the tedious task of privacy control, pretty damn far.
In case you were unaware, Facebook is probably responsible for some of that lovely spam you receive in your e-mail inbox. It is normal for websites to share a small amount of information with advertisers, such as the advertisements most clicked from a URL. Facebook is different, in that it gives advertisers the unique profile number of its users to advertisers, allowing them to access personal information… Unless you protect it, but honestly, have you ever tried that? It is complex, and forces you to be rather bitter towards even having a profile.
On that topic of sharing is caring, here is some food for thought straight from the Facebook Privacy Policy:
“Pre-Approved Third-Party Websites and Applications. In order to provide you with useful social experiences off of Facebook, we occasionally need to provide General Information about you to pre-approved third party websites and applications that use Platform at the time you visit them (if you are still logged in to Facebook). Similarly, when one of your friends visits a pre-approved website or application, it will receive General Information about you so you and your friend can be connected on that website as well (if you also have an account with that website). “
Of course you can opt out of this ‘social experience’ but should you have to? Why Mark Zuckerburg, why have you done this to us faithful Facebook users?
“Six years ago, we built Facebook around a few simple ideas. People want to share and stay connected with their friends and the people around them. If we give people control over what they share, they will want to share more. If people share more, the world will become more open and connected. And a world that’s more open and connected is a better world. These are still our core principles today.”
From Facebook… Mark Zuckerberg
That explains it; you want us all to be interconnected like one big, happy, advertising supported family. I do not want that family, I would prefer to stick with the close knit group of Facebook friends I have currently. We talk, we do lunch, and they are not willing to give my name away for money just for a ‘social experience’.
Tomorrow afternoon Facebook has promised to unveil a new way of handing its privacy settings. They have “heard the feedback” of their angst filled users, demanding a well deserved change. (We have put up with your disarrayed privacy settings for long enough, you know.) Who knows what that change will be, if any. For now, it is just promised to be a simpler way of controlling your settings. How about just going back to the old Facebook? Ah, the good ol’ days.
But, I digress. As much as I am willing to complain and weep over Facebook’s fast deterioration, I still cherish my moments with it and do not see myself deactivating my account anytime soon. I just hope that they learn, and soon, that my profile is private, and that means no to third parties and just about every one else that is not on my friends list but on that 400 million users list. No Facebook, no.
September 2, 2010
Eat Your Language, Sir
This morning I had the pleasure of sitting at a local IHOP with no other company than a wonderful waiter and one of my newest textbooks. I sat studiously taking notes, leisurely sipping at a coffee and eating my usual fruitful Danish crêpes. The textbook at my side during the breakfast has become a particularly new venture of mine, Spanish. I have always been enthralled by the language and culture but never ventured beyond the word taco language wise. And yes, I know, taco probably does not even count since I learned it at Taco Bell in the fifth grade.
Aside from my mother tongue of English, my foreign language background lies in French. As a teensy second grader, an old woman used to make the trip to the classroom I was in to speak French with us. The woman taught us the alphabet, numbers and some weather related phrases. My French studies, however, did not continue again until seventh grade where I stayed after school most days to keep my learning on going in hopes of one day being fluent in a language my family seemed to be rooted in, a handful of them anyway.
From middle school to about my junior year of high school, my French studies were quite solid. I had class every day, and stayed after school about two days a week. I traveled to Quebec for a long weekend in tow with two French teachers and about a dozen other students. We practiced our dicey language on the less than concerned natives. On that trip, I was also introduced to porn by a gothically dressed roommate and sat on. Consequently, my thumb was broken. However, none of that is even slightly relevant.
After graduating from my high school years, I took a two yearlong breather from the French language. Then, the spring before last, I decided to begin again. I continued on with my studies for two semesters, then decided against continuing for personal reasons.
My personal reasons went as follows:
The decision was then simple: stop taking French. Fin.
Now, I am studying Spanish. Why? I want to go to Spain, and because Ernest Hemingway has convinced me rather thoroughly. Conveniently enough, Spanish is also quite usable in America. So, Spanish. Hola.
Now that you have had a thorough and somewhat exact introduction to my language studies, I can begin the true story at hand. Foreign Languages and IHOP. I know what you’re thinking: This is going to be some racist rant about the wait staff. Oh, not at all.
As I was sitting doing my homework, an elder couple sat in the booth adjacent to mine. The husband of the couple noticed my Spanish textbook and proceeded to ask why in the world I would be studying such a language. I smiled, and laughed nervously as any polite young woman would. That was not a proper answer for him, so he continued on. His next reasoning for sighting that suddenly controversial Spanish textbook was that I would need to know the language fluently in order to get a job. I replied, “Well, no.” I assumed that would be the end of it.
After another small conversation with my waiter, the husband looked to me again. He was beaming with frustration at the sight of a white American girl learning Spanish. He found it ridiculous and proof that our country is crumbling. He asked what other languages I knew. I told him French. Then, he asked if I planned on learning anything else. I smiled, and for kicks went on to say Arabic. How nice it was to see the revolted look smeared upon his face. Quick thinking can be so fantastic.
For those who sympathize with this man’s frustration with Spanish becoming a spoken language among American citizens, let this be your perspective. I attend a nationally recognized University with students from across both the United States and the world. Of the mix that we are: 39% are Hispanic, 19% are white or Non-Hispanic and 18% are black. It is more than safe to say that our country is diverse, just by the judgment of one University. But, I am sure you have noticed that. Why haven’t all of us accepted it then?
This elderly man brings forth three questions. Was he afraid of the communication that could take place between the minority and the majority? Was he racist, or just in denial? Does he believe that all those in America should only be speaking the native tongue of English? Who knows, but stepping in to that IHOP with my Spanish textbook, I was not expecting that particular confrontation.
I digress. ¿Cómo se dice ‘Just eat your food.’ en español?
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