Facebook , It’s Over.. It’s you, Not Me.


Facebook, its hard to say this but we’ve had a good run and well, its over. We can stay friends however, well, “Facebook friends” if thats okay. I know you deserve an explanation after, what is it, seven years almost? So here are my reasons.

I am forty six. Almost forty seven. I have the mind of a twenty five year old. I cannot fathom living a life where you go to work, go home, make small talk, get to bed early and do it all over again happy that you have anonymously contributed to society as if it was something glorious to be revered. I cannot fathom being so boring as to accept that you need to be boring to be adult. Facebook, became the venue by which one could very quickly with a few clicks of a button or a touchscreen send witty things your friends, pictures, insight, share music videos, make observations and debate issues. The problem is, over time it has become the only venue and often it is one-sided. Do I really want to do standup in front of silent strangers? Do I want to DJay a room full of quiet people having secret conversations while a couple of friends clamber about the booth to chat? Do I really want to debate issues on friend’s walls with their friends and extended aquaintances, people I don’t even remotely know or know their connections to my real world? Do I really like saying what I am thinking then having to delete or edit after the fact so as to not offend people I am not even talking to? Do I really honestly wish to have to delete a friends comments not because I don’t enjoy the back and forth but because they will offend MY friends not even part of the conversation.

The answer is no. I don’t wish to waste any more time on this. However I won’t wish to keep my thoughts to myself all of the time. It’s what people do, what they SHOULD do. Discuss things. Debate. It’s part of being a normal human. I just don’t think given the permission and security settings available on FB make it the proper venue. What do I mean in simpler terms? When I say “I don’t give a rats ass about what happens in (insert name of country in turmoil) because it doesnt affect me” on facebook, I should be able to control who see’s it. I can’t. When I say “Shakira yumm..” then my mom shouldn’t be able to see that. Guess what. She can. Not that she cares, she probably agrees but it’s something I should be able to control.

A friend once said to me ” why do you care what other people do in their lives?”. This was in regard to my posting some snarky comment on some boring ass aspect of their or someone else’s lives. This rolls back to my initial desire to utilize FB for my own devices. I will say it here once and for all. If you treat live as a series of necessary jobs to do until you die and that entertainment, fun, excitement is something you only do, safely, carefully, on weekends, if you have time.. you are a boring person. I consider it to be MY job to tell you. Why? Because. I want you to change. I want you to be more fun, to listen to new music, to hear funny things and to be happier less BORING people. Why? No reason. I just know you will be better people for it. Your kids will be happier, your marriages will last longer and you will be less boring to be around. If you are my friend, its because I like you, and if I feel you need to upgrade its not because I have changed, its because you have. There is no reward in life for being boring. Facebook, you are full of boring and try as much as I can, I cannot change that.

Another reason I care about what people do in their lives is how it affects others. If you smoke, I want to be able to remind you that smoking is bad for you, that smoking causes YOU to be sick more that ME and costs the medical system more than I do. Same goes for a huge variety of other issues. If you don’t vaccinate your kids, which is a moronic choice by the way, your kids can then get sick, which makes you a horrible horrible parent. If your kids get sick (BAD PARENT) you open up the door for other people to get sick too. This makes you a bad citizen and a bad parent. Those people can therefore spread disease and so on and so on. Your idiotic choice affects others. Same goes for not making your kids read books, watching shows like Honey Boo Boo or racing Poker Run power boats. When you ignore the after affects of you actions, the rippling of your choices through the waters of life and time, you need to be told. Period. Facebook, you became the venue for this ranting yet its all, to quote Roy Batty in Bladerunner, “..Tears in the rain..”.

I am also sick of what Facebook has become. Given my above revelation, I am shocked people have yet to come to it as well. My notifications are full of pictures of people holding signs. Fricking Gods Damned Signs. I don’t care if its some harebrained plan to show kids “how far a picture can travel” on the internetz, a protest of some sort, a plea for money or to find a lost relative or some doorknob saying “if I get 1000000 likes my dad will move back into the trailerpark..”. I.. just.. don’t.. care.. And guess what, it is all BORING me to death. Facebook is BORING.

What am I to do? Well, I won’t go off FB completely. I tried that before and failed. It is like a drug, an electro-digital-social drug. I was voluntarily secluded from a lot of people who had been a part of my life for a long time and FB dragged me back into all that messy socialness. It’s hard to go back to being a complete hermit so I instead invite you to join me in downsizing your facebook presence. I will post pictures of things we do, I will occasionally update my status with information I wish to share with family and friends or when I wish to find something out (like right now, I need to know of a good plumber in my City who can install a vanity and a hot water tank because I am useless that way…) or when I have a book I want you to buy. I am done with debates. I am done with trying o convince people to stop being morons. I am done with using Facebook as anything more than a bulliten board. Lets phone each other instead. Lets email each other at least. Text me. Message me directly. Send me a damn letter. Screw Facebook and it’s monetized desire to make us but publicaly, visibly, transparently open to the world.

All future interesting drivel I spit out can be found at my website, http://seanwritesstuff.com
or on twitter: @bedamnedsean

And yes, I may link posts directly/automatically to my Facebook pages (personal and “professional”) and you can comment there if you like. It will be monitored however and censored accordingly so to quote Wil Wheaton, “Don’t be a dick..”

Goodbye Facebook. Lets be friends.

You can keep the turntable and the dishes but I get the cat.


Alone on a train
Not alone
Just sitting alone
Drink, food, headphones
Book, snack, drink
Alone in my seat
Staring out at the waning light
Cars, trains, houses
Pass by
Music, empty, tasteless
Food, quiet, vacant
Snow blows by
Alone in my head
Not a good place to be
Book, story, in my eyes
Then vanishing into nothing
Pages, story, soundless
Alone on a train
Alone with my thoughts
Thoughts of being alone
Once desired
But when obtained
Empty, tasteless, quiet, vacant

Posted from WordPress for Android by that guy that runs the place


Carved from an ogres tooth
It held magic, old magic
Carved by a shepherd, once a knight
He turned away when the battle was won
The field was littered with bones
Bones of men and ogres
Small and large, thin and thick
Whitish sticks and logs
He stated at his creation
A scrimshaw, carven, wild
It was Pan
It winked at him, it’s ogre magic rife
Or did it
He shook his head, slapped his face
It was a cow’s tooth
They were twigs, sticks, logs
Bleached by rain and sun
There were no ogres
He stood and threw away the tooth
It landed unseen
The shepherd returned to his flock
The ogre tooth play its magic into the soil
Pan smiled from the nearby wood
Pan watched the knight stand alone and call to emptiness
Magic splayed and bones slid slowly into the soil from whence ogres grew

Posted from WordPress for Android by that guy that runs the place

Scrabble (for Michael)

Whiskers twitched and noses, cut, scarred and half frozen, lifted upward. Yet another gust of salty cold air whistled loudly as it thrust through a thousand cracked panes of glass and leaky door frames. The ship rose and sank upon the merciless sea as the smell of land wafted along the abandoned halls, through banquet halls and across the mountains of filth and half eaten carcasses of the occupant’s conveniently nutritious comrades. As one, they began to scurry about sniffing, ignoring the ravenous hunger that set them upon one another when they weren’t hiding or mating.

The long slender ship turned sideways to the reef as the dark moonlit surf slowly pushed it ashore. A bang, a crash, a dragging and shuddering could be heard for miles about had anyone ventured into the wintrous night air but none did. This was rural Devon.  It was unnatural and considered unsafe to wander at night even in summer. Things lived in the dark, things whose motion was hidden by the roar if the sea. Things half believed like werewolves, black cats of immense size and appetite, vengeful spirits of Celts, Romans, Gauls.  People slept unaware.

At precisely three in the morning, en masse, the hungry horde dove overboard as the ship, their home for most all of their lives, tore apart and sank below the waves. On shore, a few fought, a few lay down and died from exertion and most washed themselves, as rats do, before moving farther inland toward a nearby field encapsulated by rough hewn fencing and loose barbed wire. Stray cobs of corn were ignored as they walked, jogged, ran as one shiny black mob of death toward the nearby barn.

Dobson had not heard the shipwreck but his ears.  Mmperked up at the soul wrenching sound of cattle being slaughtered by gnashing, tearing, burrowing rats.  He strode into the darkness, flashlight in hand, as his wife stood at the doorway to their small home, frightened as her husband of oh so many years vanished into the night.

His screams rivalled those of the cattle.

It had begun.

Posted from WordPress for Android by that guy that runs the place


Oh Ye brown happy liquid
Rolling across the tongue
Bitter yet sweet and milky smooth
Falling into me and coursing through all
Wake me you streetwalker of beverages
Cheap, old, young, expensive, bad or good,
I do not care
You are my metabolism’s friend
You are the friend of all around me
Coffee, I love you

Posted from WordPress for Android by that guy that runs the place


Rudy sought out roadkill
Wandered to and fro
Trundled with his poking stick
O’er time hopes would grow
Found a ‘possum, found a cat
Found a husky dog
Never found what he yearned to find
Just multitudes of frog
Watched the beetles dig inside
Made the hot flesh quiver
Shoeless, took his quarry off
Down beside the river
Took the jacknife out and then
Excavated in
Washed the evil all away
Minnows ate the sin
Summers came and summers went
Turtle, gator, deer
Never did he find his prey
Once, a full grown steer
Late one night he stumbled ‘pon
Hippies camping deep
In the wood the drank and mated
Slowly he did creep
First was easy, second too
Third let out a yell
Fourth and fifth came running blind
One by one they fell
Down the river they all went
Feeding fish and bug
Rudy changed, he found his call
Murder was a drug