I deleted my Facebook account this morning. It feels good. These are the reasons why:
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- Facebook told me one my recent posts about a handgun violated their community standards (it’s the blog immediately below this one). What a patronizing, insulting, idiotic thing to do. Folks, “Facebook community standards” is an oxymoronic expression.
- I didn’t like the constant stream of moronic comments and arguments.
- I’d post a link to one of our blog articles and I’d get questions on Facebook that were answered in the blog. Facebook members were too lazy or too stupid to realize the link would provide the information.
- Too many people add comments to Facebook that are just plain wrong.
- There are persistent Facebook comments that are racist. I realize there are a lot of racists out there. I don’t need to see it.
- Facebook’s so-called “fact checkers” routinely post “This statement is partially false” when it wasn’t. In fact, that ridiculous comment essentially agreed that it was true. Who are these “fact checkers,” anyway? My inference is that they are 22-year-old Bernie-Sanders-supporting Silicon-Valley software types making $200K/year who routinely confuse their income with their intelligence.
- I grew tired of the anti-gun crowd on Facebook. If you don’t like guns, don’t own one. Do you really think your views are going to alter mine? Do you really think your insipid comments on Facebook are going to change my views?
- What is Facebook, really? It’s not a product. It adds nothing of value to the human experience. It’s nothing, really.
- I don’t like Mark Zuckerberg. I know someone who knows him, and the feedback isn’t good.
- I was spending too much time on Facebook. Life is short. I’m not wasting another second of it glued to my laptop or my cell phone reading stupid stuff on Facebook.
Old Zuckerhead doesn’t make quitting Facebook easy. It took me about half an hour to finally find a way to do it. I’m pretty sure that’s not accidental. If it was such a good thing, you’d think they’d make it difficult to join, not difficult to quit.
It’s Sunday. I think I’m either going to the gym, or a motorcycle ride, or the range. Maybe I’ll do all three. I feel good.