The Wardman Wire

Facebook’s getting a kicking this week. A couple of paragraph’s from Claire Beale’s column in the Viewspaper yesterday:

Facebook’s been the phenomenon of the year, but the speed with which advertisers have piled in is telling: if you’re going to follow fashion, do it quickly, do it cheaply and be ready to pack it all off to Oxfam before the season turns.

For my money, Facebook’s a fad. The smartest advertisers will be in and out quicker than a curry. Then it will settle down, tick over and find it hard to nail that £15bn price tag. We’ll see.

Chicken Yoghurt has jumped off the (band) wagon:

I’ve finally bitten the bullet and divorced the bowel-achingly tedious Facebook. I’ve ‘deactivated’ my relationship with her. I got sick to the gills with her constant banging on. ‘Justin, come and look at this’, she kept saying. ‘Justin, come and do this’, she kept suggesting. Join that, poke this, invite the other. Nag, nag, bloody nag.

So has Tim Ireland:

I do not need to be lumbered with this pester-tech.

I have no wish to be alerted by email that a text-based message (that they could have delivered in the first fucking place via email) is awaiting me at Facebook.

I certainly have no desire to put a begging button on my site in search of what they laughingly classify as ‘friendship’.

I no longer wish to use Facebook, or be associated with it in any way.

Let me buff my brass buttons: I have never (I think) had a single friend on Facebook. I plead guilty to the account, but I allege that I only used it twice. I am however, beaten by a couple of people in Tim’s comments, who have never even dipped a toe in the poisoned lake.

Tags: facebook, claire beale, tim ireland, justin mckeating

[tags]facebook, claire beale, tim ireland, justin mckeating[/tags]