Wed 27th Jan 2010

No Im not...or am I?

Spekki vs. Facebook

The ladies love the Facebook.

"I don't trust people who aren't on Facebook" she says. "Not enough friends and too many secrets."

"You say that now," I rejoin. "But just you wait. One night they'll come for you. Battering down your door. Dragging you into the back of a van. Whisking you away to a dank cell. And then they'll accuse you of a terrible, terrible crime.

And when you deny it, they'll show you photos. Facebook photos. Dozens of them, showing you in incriminating places, with incriminating people, doing incriminating things.

And before you know it you'll be in the dock. And however hard you try to deny it, how can you argue against all those witnesses? All those friends who parade through the witness box condemning you? All those friends you've never met?

And they all know what you were doing on the day in question, because you updated your status and told them. And they know where you were, and how you felt about it. And they all have photos of you - hundreds of photos. And there's nothing you can do..."

(I'm screaming by now, spittle on my lips and the veins standing out like cords on my dangerously red neck)

"...all because you didn't leave yourself safe inside your head. You splattered yourself across the Internet like a tin of very mediocre paint! And one day - one day soon - they'll come for you! Do you hear me? They'll come for you!"

She thinks for a while and then says: "But it's really handy for catching up with people you haven't seen for ages."

There's just no arguing with some people.