..... I would post this article from the Sun 24 hours .... ENJOY .....
MAURO
Above all, I repeated that I had to try it myself, this experience, because being in or being out, it was like to take part in the life or be dead. Being "in" or be "out". There was a moment that lasts, in which it was impossible to miss the conversations that they had to do with Facebook. Whatever the source of debate, regardless of the stream of words coming down from the mouths of people, the sea that would end was always to Facebook.
There were friends who met on the street when he asked me "Are you on Facebook?". That was like saying "It is useless to waste time here on the sidewalk, with cars passing, the horns do not make us talk, mobile phone, quickly." "We're on Facebook?", And then I ditched. I saw them leave the back, phone between your ear and shoulder, hand in front of the agenda and others that opened like the Red Sea before Moses. If talking to someone, they spoke to said that they had met on Facebook.
An old friend, a forgotten high school teacher, a former neighbor umbrella. Even in these days when talking about the momentous victory for Obama, is said to have been epoch-making because there was Facebook.
So I went "in" me too. I did a little 'exhaustion and a bit' to be able to talk to those friends who ditched me on the street and giving me an appointment on Facebook.
the street were always on the run, they were talking about Facebook for hours. Why "In" everything is much quieter. I did my entrance one evening a couple of months ago, following carefully the procedures. I entered with the slight apprehension that I pearl temples every time I approach the subject with a slightly more complex operation of television. Facebook knew almost everything there was to know. I knew it was to open up a personal page, click on a picture to enter some information about me, my date of birth, occupation, my passions. I knew because a friend had made me see her page. When I saw her I knew that it was open like a tomb, a tomb with a picture that looks into the faces of passers-by, who just passed and if they want to leave the notes, change the water the flowers. Just knew that I had entered it too, my friend was happy and proud. She was glad to be was a little 'head. So we should not see us for a coffee on the run, playing with mobile phones, cars, haste. The two months I spent on Facebook have been quite lively. At first I came many "friend requests" and I did not know why I did not know who these people were. Then my friend told me that the rule was to accept the Facebook "friend requests" and that, therefore, my conduct was anti-social conduct. So from that moment on, every time I got a I accepted the request. In two months I have become as it were a friend of four hundred of which I knew nothing, and now I know where the picture they put on the niche and a little more. I found myself talking into the night with men and women who treated me like I'm their best friend, or abuse me as the worst enemy. I saw myself be accused of snobbery for failing to respond to insult you for having been slow to accept a so-called friendship.
Every time I access my page, some stranger that I had accepted the so-called friendship is facing a window saying "There you are," as if it had been lurking all night in my hallway waiting to see me return. I heard about adulterous people more or less famous discoveries thanks to Facebook, since Facebook to see everything all in which everyone is busy. I was contacted by classmates in elementary, middle and high school. Some of them wanted at all costs to send the photographs to show me how we were. If I think of all the years that it took me to be able to forget how we were. Then I was contacted by the first, second and third girlfriends, who have told me "Do you remember?". Then from friends of friends of friends lost to reason and remained (rightly) relegated to a distant past. I received invitations to join groups of all kinds, from the 'Obama party' movement 'Antibimbominkia. Of latter movement, which takes its time in showing dissent towards the followers of Tokio Hotel, I started getting all kinds of warning: "No to bimbominkia on Facebook," "The bimbominkia has evolved into Sfigadulto horrible," " Against Bimbominkia for a better world. " Then: I was contacted for any type of subscription, to buy CDs, books, to attend the inauguration of shops, social rides, to test cosmetics, snacks join environmental groups, think back to the Maoist revolution.
Here, after two months so I asked my friends desperate to get out of it. And their desperate, her eyes wide open, they told me that they do not know how to do that have tried but do not understand how to do it, what procedure should be followed. We talk on Facebook, each behind its railing, his arms over the bars to stir the air. And so, from here, from behind my grateful I came to mind Michel Foucault, when he speaks of Bentham's Panopticon. "Every day, the mayor goes on the road it is responsible, will stop at every house, is put all the people at the windows. Each locked in his cage, each at his window, answering to its name, showing him when he asks. This surveillance is based on a permanent recording system. " At the beginning of the "lock" is established the role of all the people present in the city, one by one, you will return 'the name, age, sex, condition without exception. " This system, says Foucault, who has a secure "induce in the inmate a state of conscious visibility that assures the automatic fiction of power because what matters is that he knows to be watched." I talk with my so-called friends, this passage Foucault. I tell him he is in a book called Discipline and Punish. Rather than tell him, I'll yell out the window.
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