No You May Not Write On My Wall

Last night a friend took me to task for the fact that I don’t use Facebook.  This was after he had had a few drinks, but the sentiment seemed honest — according to him, my steadfast avoidance of Facebook put me in the same category as those people who proudly state they don’t own a TV, or don’t see movies made in the last ten years.  Not a choice of luddite ignorance, but some sort of pseudo-elitist avoidance of the latest cultural zeitgeist.

Naturally, I take umbrage with that statement.  Yes, I don’t use Facebook, and yes I’m in the minority amongst my friend circle.  But it’s not because I don’t like the idea of social networking, or that I think I’m too good for it.  But buying in to the whole Facebook enterprise at this time just sounds useless.  I spend a lot of time on the internet already.  Why do I need something else on the internet, where I can tell people about the fact that I’m about to go grocery shopping?  Where I can see what random guy who sat next to me in 9th grade biology is doing?  Or where I can let everyone know that I’m a tremendous fan of the writings of Dr. Mahinder Watsa?

So no: not better than you or cooler-than-thou for not having a Facebook page.  Just phenomenally uninterested.