Social Media Contrarianism or All the Cool Kids are Doing It

"Who Am I Stalking?" Saturday...

Post the Color of Your Bra in Support of Breast Cancer Awareness, or Technicolor Boobs, or the American Foundation Garment Foundation of America...

Virtual gift swaps, and Which Teletubby Would You Be If You Were Creepy and Mono-syllabic quizzes... And Post the Fruit You Most Resemble Weeks and... I don't know... Photograph Your Favorite Fish Day...

It seems the more the social media wants me to do something, the less I want to participate.

I clearly have Social Media Contrarianism.

And I feel guilty about it... I really do... because my online friends are a great bunch of people. Folks I love reading, exchanging ideas with, and getting glimpses into their lives.

But I don't also need to glimpse into their underpants. Especially en masse. There are some things best left to the imagination.

Plus, it's the marketer in the back of my mind (well, maybe not the back, more of the frontal lobe region) that keeps whispering how all of these Facebook apps are not-so-subtlely based on some never-ending cycle of reciprocity that isn't about us at all.

I give you a Farmville cow, you give me crap... er, fertilizer... fertilizer for my fields.

You demonstrate your loyalty to my mafia family by a well-executed hit, I "Make" your little brother Vinnie.

I buy you virtual mockingbird, you buy me a virtual diamond ring.

Until suddenly, we're drowning in this giant time-suck whirlpool. Virtual cows swim by. And virtual Auntie Ems. And when we look around us, the only one who ends up with anything tangible to show for it is Facebook, who just waved six extra hours of ads for whiter teeth in front of our eyeballs.

So my Facebook Event Invitations pile up like the snow on my car.

And Twitter FollowFridays are left unstalked.

Open Houses in the Farmville real estate market will not find me attending, inspecting potential property investments or enjoying the virtual hors d'oevres.

Perhaps I'm missing out. Perhaps I'm a bad virtual friend. But I'd like to think these same folks know they could count on me if they needed something for real. Something that mattered.

Something that didn't mean active involvement in pixelated livestock hoarding.

Just sayin'.

The New Facebook Simulated Maternal Nagging Features

Facebook's starting to sound like dear old Mom. In its deep desire for us all to be happy and connected (and feed lonely farm animals), Facebook has developed a Suggestions sidebar--

--Or what I like to call the "Simulated Maternal Nagging Feature."

This app checks out who's active on your friends list and spins less-rabid Facebook buds into that frumpy, socially-inept cousin who our mother insists that we really should invite along to the party-- and possibly give a makeover.

"Mary Kwyte-Contrary only has 15 friends. Suggest friends for her!" it says.

Now, though Mary may be an individualist, she has always been able to make friends on her own.

But Facebook's Simulated Maternal Nagging Feature is worried about Mary's social life. Mary has friends, yes, but does she have enough friends? Of course not!

And is that really what Mary's wearing in her avatar? And wouldn't she like to just try wearing a little rouge? A little? For Mom? Please?

Why don't you help her, the Maternal Nagging Feature wants to know? What kind of friend are you? Didn't Mom raise you better than this? Help her! Help her NOW!

(Ahem.)

"This is your friend Bo Peep-- Help her find her friends!"

Yep, that's Mother Facebook again, stepping in and wondering why Bo's left wandering in the Facebook fields with less than a 200-head flock around her.

And if you don't make suggestions for Bo right away, well... look out! Mother Facebook has vays of makingk zem flock.

"Johnathan B. Nimble is 48% active. Poke him."

I beg your pardon, Mother Facebook?

Oh-- I see. You want to light a fire under ol' Jack because you think he's not hitting the Facebooks enough...

Instead he's out having a candlelight dinner with Jill--

(you know, outside. In the real world.)

--And not spending his days looking for that dirty bra in Mafia Wars or taking in some lost black duck on Farmvilletown Acres.

But my favorite... my favorite of all Simulated Maternal Nags was when a Facebook friend said she'd just been shown an avatar and was told:

"This is Peter Piper. Reconnect with him."

"But I palavered with Peter peering over his paper and peck of pickled peppers at breakfast. He's my partner," said Penny Whistle-Piper, dryly.

Yes, but that's Mother Facebook, butting in to our relationships again. "You never call... You never write.."

And I think it's getting worse. Soon we'll be getting Suggestions like:

"See our friend Hansel Voodcutterson here? Hansel hasn't logged in for 12 hours. By the time you read this Suggestion, I will be dead from the gas I inhaled after putting my central processing unit in the oven of the Facebook Cafe World app.

"Clearly, Hansel is a selfish boy who cares more for his gingerbread addiction than he does Mother Facebook.

"You could have saved me an untimely shut-down by emailing him to log in. But you didn't. You're just like the rest of them. Why do I bother?

...

"Okay, so I'm not actually dead yet. But I will be. Click here to contact the local news station in Hansel's area to beg him to log-in to Facebook and make his Mother happy..."

"You would if you truly loved me."

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Today's question: Has Facebook or any other online service ever gotten pushy with you?

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