I’ve never been a huge fan of Facebook. In fact I felt a sense of heartbreak when we all turned our backs on Bebo, disregarding it as good only for year eights who feel cool because they’ve stayed up to watch Skins. Good old Bebo was a harmless playground for everyone who wanted to take the ‘when will you loose you’re vaginity’ quiz. On the other hand, Facebook is a sweaty sack of photo albums, where pictures of half-friend party-goers mock my mildly inferior social standing through alcohol-based calamities captured in full HD.

You may well be thinking that if I don’t like Facebook, why am I using it? And, assuming you don’t live in North Korea, you would have every right to think that. The actual reason is probably a combination of boredom, wanting to have something to moan about, and peer pressure. 

I’m not the only one who moans though. Facebook updates induce a similar scale of anger and uproar to when it turned out Sunny-D was toxic. Everyone acts like the homepage has turned into hideously incomprehensible, baffling maze of shiny pointlessness, moving all the comfortingly positioned sidebars and tabs so that they’re spread out in some tauntingly difficult to find array of confusion. “Bring back the old Facebook!” we cry; “WTF new chat is so gay!” we desperately articulate, before forgetting what the old layout looked like and continuing as normal. I’ve noticed that this happens pretty much whenever Facebook updates, suggesting that each revision has been negative and thus the website has been becoming perpetually worse for about six years. Based on this, if the site reverted to its original 2004 incarnation we’d be uncharacteristically positive about it all.

You’ve probably notice that, as an entity, Facebook has become huge and the social obligation to join is even vaster. Refuse to sign up and you’ll be left out in some cold, empty world where your friends only exist in real life. Almost all have succumbed; only Sam Tope stands tall; unwilling; defiant. 

Interestingly, Facebook’s dominance has meant that its chat feature has completely replaced its Microsoft rival. Poor MSN: the majority of its once vibrant community have abandoned it, leaving it stranded on the start menu with only the similarly lonely Internet Explorer for company. Perhaps you might accidentally log in to MSN one evening and witness the barren social wasteland first-hand: only two people online; a primary school friend whose existence you’d previously determined was the product of a dream and a fake account whose request you excitedly accepted at a young age because you genuinely believed someone called Lexxy had a secret crush on you. Skype had been suffering from similar levels of neglect recently, but cleverly jumped headfirst into Facebook’s gooey torso, being absorbed into its mass so it can feed off its users like some sort of video call tapeworm. 

The fact that MSN has been replaced by Facebook chat is a big shame actually, as talking on Facebook chat is about as smooth and reliable as two, technologically impaired, slightly deaf elderly men trying to communicate via a lagging video call. 

Some of you might have heard of wacky, partial Facebook-rival ‘Tumblr’. You may even be using it now to read this very condemnation. For those of you who don’t know, a typical post involves a fourteen year old girl reblogging a sepia tinted photo of a woman’s legs next to a Biffa bin™, with the equally confusing caption of “Fame doesn’t care about me losing you” written across it in a white font. If you lack cynicism to the extent that you think ghosts ‘might exist’ then these Tumblr posts may prove intellectually fulfilling, otherwise, don’t touch them with an elongated, antiseptic barge pole. 

And with that I leave you. If anyone wants to organize a Bebo reunion then just message me on MSN.