Resistance is futile

It would appear that Facebook has now reached the level of ubiquity that makes it the expected form of interaction for everyone.  Like email, web, and cell phones before it, it has gone from curiosity to novelty to routine.  It used to be that only self-obsessed undergrads and lecherous pervs were on Facebook.  Then it became an interesting phenomenon.  Then it became the latest annoying fad in the footsteps of Friendster.  For a while, it looked like it may follow the latter to the heap of discarded instant wonders.  But then something happened, some tipping point was passed, and now it's basically a necessity.  I know of mothers who are on Facebook next to their teenage children.  They'll tell you how much of a drag it is to constantly receive friend requests from their children's classmates.  Most of my friends post party invitations and photos exclusively on Facebook.  They rely on it to check whether someone is out of town.  I myself am not on, but there are apparently pictures of me.  Even my funny T-shirts have been tagged on Facebook, I hear.

I'm beginning to realize that I will eventually simply have to throw in the towel and join Facebook.  At this point, holding out is almost peevish.  I am like those odd people who refuse to use a computer and insist on paper receipts for everything; a walking anachronism.  When I meet new friends, they find it difficult to understand.  It's like I'm impeding some universal ritual.  And with the critical mass now reached, it will only get more noticeable.

I'm still not sure that I'll be gaining anything by creating yet another profile, calendar, inbox, and blog.  I have no use for zombie bites, pokes, or hot potatoes.  (Some say I'll get more dates.  If so, that will be truly sad.)  It doesn't matter: everyone is on Facebook, so everyone has to be on Facebook.  Otherwise, you're an analog die-hard in the digital world.  You may think you're sensible or original; but everyone else thinks you're awkward.