Facebook-Jehovah's
The two questions that I get thrown at me about fifteen times a day: 1) Adeline, how do you feel today? and 2) What are you doing? First of all, I find it creepy that a computer program asks me this. No matter how social this program may be, I'm talking about Facebook, it still feels a bit weird that a platform wants to know what I'm doing and what mood I'm in.
My apologies by the way for the delightful fact that I wander around on Facebook at least, but really at least, fifteen times. But it's my job. And my job is online, so it's allowed. That's probably why it's also fifteen times five, but what does it matter.
Back to those questions, because that's what I wanted to talk to you about. That Mark Zuckerberg and co. wanting to know how I feel is one thing. That they want to entice me into all sorts of unnecessary purchases: okay. But that they now hide like some kind of Jehovah in the middle of my timeline? What-the-fuck. But really. Let me explain what happened. I was scrolling through cat videos looking for real news and here and there I stopped to tag the editors. Lilian goes crazy over chicken videos (not in a good way), I tag Elke in everything with wine, Simone is the one in sports videos, and Kiek is my victim in everything that has food as a grateful subject. But anyway, between my busy tasks, I saw it. I scrolled over it, back again, further on, and yet just back again to read it seriously. My mouth dropped about five centimeters open and I let out a shocked but also surprised cry before I snorted a report to the editorial team. What did Facebook say? They noticed that I was almost getting older again (thanks for reminding, little acorns) and therefore I could treat myself to a good cause.
It felt like the Jehovah's quickly hooked an ugly leather shoe behind my front door, as if the NRC paperboy was chasing me down Kalverstraat (where you, as an Amsterdammer, actually don't go) and the collection box kept ringing through the foxtrotting cats and cuddling chickens on Facebook. The street vendor has boarded the social and digital highway.
Now the case is that I have a baptized forehead. Therefore, I am automatically enlisted in the ranks of the Dutch church. And they do it too. I already found it a bit strange that they stood on my doorstep for a well-filled envelope on my birthday, preferably not too heavy, because that means paper money, but now that Facebook is doing it, I see an antisocial trend emerging. I like to give, with love and if possible generously to grateful causes, but just let me treat whoever I want to cake on my birthday, Mark Zuckerberg. And co.
