I was never a rebel by intent.

It just seemed to happen.

Whatever the fashion was at the time, I seemed to do the opposite.  I just seem to have a knack of going against the mainstream, and rather than worry about it, I happily live with it.  However, after sixty odd years of this, I begin to worry any time I find myself going with the flow, as it means something is out of kilter. 

The other day I read that thing about people who don’t have Facebook accounts being highly suspect and closely aligned with mass murderers.  Apparently if you don’t live your entire life in a virtual world, you are weird, and oddball and not a very nice member of polite society.

In other words, you belong to my world.

But then I remembered that I do indeed have a Facebook account.


I can’t delete it as then I would be a rebel by design and not by nature.

I opened up the account [according to my account] on the 21st July 2007 so it has been festering there in a backwater of Facebook for the last five years.  Incidentally, according to my Timeline, that is when I was “born”, which just shows how fucking sad Facebook is that you only come into existence when you join?

I have dropped into it occasionally just to annoy people [as I do on Twitter as well], or to upload something of complete non-interest but in general the account just languishes there gathering dust and cobwebs.  I have about fifty “friend requests” and a clatter of groups who want me to join, but I have just been impolitely ignoring them.  If I started using Facebook in earnest I would have to reply to all these requests and that sounds tedious.

So I am now on the horns of a dilemma. 

I can’t delete the account [see above] and I can’t use it [as then I am joining the mainstream].  I could just carry on ignoring it but that is taking the easy way out.

I suppose I will just have to start using it, but filling it with so much crap and disinformation that it would utterly confuse anyone trying to find out anything about me.

The account is here, but don’t ask to be my friend.

Unless you want to wait another five years?

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The Accidental Rebel — 16 Comments

  1. You could always compromise and delete the person who talked you into opening a Facebook account in the first place? Unless it’s Herself of course as she might actually delete you first what with her being both Irish and female (and shorter than you as well–very dangerous).
    Otherwise, we seem to be in the same boat with the possible exceptions that you’re already my “Friend” and you post to your account more than I do.

  2. I had a farcebook account then deleted it due to their terrible policies on privacy..

    Then as I didn’t have a farcebook account I became an axe murderer for a couple of years.

    Now my dive club insists on posting trips on there so I rejoined. I actually find it good sport – posting stories and websites that I know will annoy people.

    It’s amazingly cathartic and I have been able to give up being an axe murderer. I have been cured by farcebook. How wonderful.

  3. I don’t facebook or twitter.
    I’m not square in shape or mindset and do not fit in a box. Anyone’s box.
    I like it that way.
    I find it funny how threatened many people feel when they find others who don’t fit into their concept of “normal”.
    I’m very glad none of them want to be like me as I’m just as happy not to be like them.
    I’ve never understood this need to be part of a pack. So many people seem to find it difficult to spend time alone with themselves.
    I’m the youngest of 7 children and remember trying to find places to hide as a child just to get some peace and quiet so I could read or just daydream.
    Perhaps I should delete this before the CIA or FBI or Homeland Security put me on their watch list and I won’t be able to take my vacation trip to Ireland next year!

  4. tt – Priest?  What priest?  Where?  Damned black yokes try to creep in everywhere.

    Kirk M – I can’t remember who first talked me into it.  If I could, I would happily delete them.  I might even remove them from Facebook too.

    Stuart – Welcome!  Unfortunately I too have found that certain groups and clubs insist on posting only to Facebook.  It is a right pain in the hole.  And what with running this site and all the other vitally important things in life, I just don’t have the time to be farting around in FBook as well.

    Joysness – I somehow think that to be described as “normal” is the greatest insult.  It conjures up images of grey people all wearing the same clothes and doing the same things and being utterly, utterly boring.  Incidentally, both the CIA and Homeland Security have this site on the red alert watch list, so you are already marked as a terrorist!

  5. Grandad – After I thought about my comment for a bit I rushed over to Facebook to see when I actually joined. Thank heavens, it was in 2009 sometime so it wasn’t me who talked you into it. I was getting quite nervous about it.

  6. The priest who officiated at the wedding . To see the wedding pics on your faecesbook open the link in your post. Jeez it’s like pulling teeth. Senile auld git.

  7. Jayzus, tt!  What do you think I am?  A fucking mind reader?  The only photograph I could see of a priest holding anything is where he’s holding a red book.  I don’t know what it is.  Marriage register?  A phone book?  His porn collection?

  8. Seems to me my “friends” use my facebook account more than I do.  There’s so much stuff from other people that you’d have to look at the top page to see who it belongs to.
    Who are these people?   And now I’m being invited to stuff where I have to reply yes, no, maybe?  How about Ignore?
    Facebook may have it’s advantages, but it sure is annoying as heck.

  9. Patrick – Those invitations are damned confusing!  Suppose I do turn up – how will anyone recognise me?  I certainly wouldn’t know them from Adam.  Unless of course it’s some relative or someone I have been avoiding for years!  😉

  10. Grandad, go back onto facebook (faecesbook..good one, TT), delete all your photos. Change all your details , new date of birth, address, whatever. Make yourself, for instance, a right dickhead or something.
    Then, this is the important one. Give yourself a new password. DON’T WRITE IT DOWN. Forget it for ever.
    That’s it. End of facebook for you.
    It worked for me. Fuck facebook and its little bollix of a gm.

  11. I got a Facebook account at my daughters’ insistence about 4 – 5 years ago, but I never really got the hang of it. Frankly, I really don’t give a twopenny fuck what someone had for breakfast, or that they have a hangover. I just found it a monumental waste of time. So my account, like yours grandad, has been gathering dust ever since. I also opened a Twatter account recently, to try and find out what all the excitement is about, but it has yet to inspire me. I do sometimes wonder if people these days have far too much time on their hands…

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