I have been try­ing years now to fig­ure out why I hate Face­book so much. I mean, the truly infor­ma­tive bits I get from friends far away are nice rea­sons to linger on, but for the most part, I would love to ditch the whole thing in favor of a bit of Twit­ter, email and my blog. Still, I’d not been able to come up with an appro­pri­ate metaphor until I saw this hal­loween cos­tume idea… Now I am even more cer­tain that I will be spend­ing less time as part of the cycle of ingest-and-pass-along. I have things I want to do with my life, and while the cute­ness is occa­sion­ally a balm, and the calls to action are often heed-worthy, most of the time, I could obtain the same cute­ness from my own dogs and birds, and the socio-political news directly from the sources I have deemed trust­wor­thy. I am weak, and the moment I open the ‘book, I end up drown­ing in the mire, allow­ing myself to be churned to dizzy hope­less­ness at the base of the Face­book Wall Falls. I don’t think it helps my san­ity. Any­way, I am not gone yet, but I have unsewn my lips. It’s a start.