Some startling news in an actual print, hold-in-your hands newspaper Sunday: Facebook was down for several hours Saturday.
I was surprised, not by the fact that Facebook did not function for a few hours, but that the Earth continued to turn. Had our planet stopped spinning, it would have been a blatant clue: Facebook is not working.
One shudders to think what happened in those few hours that dragged on for what must have felt like an eternity to Facebook addicts. I envision reactions akin to withdrawal from alcohol, heroin or leaving home and finding out you’re not handsome, perfect and smart.
During those torturous hours without Facebook I imagine no one sat at a green light, face down in their laps, giggling and talking to themselves. Even the terrible drivers in Española moved on green lights and actually stopped for the red ones, instead of careening through an intersection oblivious to the mayhem they leave in their wake while finding out what their cousin in Poughkeepsie ate for dinner last night.
People probably walked upright for a few hours, performing bipedalism like long lost homo sapiens. No one walked into a wall, only to bounce back, unfazed, still staring at their mobile phone screen, viewing an important update on Kim Kardashian’s ample rear end, which has its own Facebook account.
We’ve become accustomed to the hunched over Neanderthal version of our former selves, lost in video entertainment and wonderment. It’s as if they’ve never witnessed a poorly performing karaoke singer, a dog sliding on an iced over pond or grandma getting blind-sided with an 80th birthday celebration.
If we’re being honest, the things that get the most views usually involve someone’s genitals getting mangled, mashed or mutilated in some way. The more bizarre, the better. So many tortured testicles, so little time.
For a few hours Saturday people must have sat down to eat: couples, families, co-workers. What a sight. People sitting down at a table together, talking to each other. They would have to look at each other’s face, not their Facebook profile page and picture, but their actual face.
“Oh my God, you’ve gotten old,” would be a natural reaction of seeing your loved one across the table, in the flesh for the first time in years. Of course a Facebook user would probably say, “OMG.”
People would have to use their mouths and have a conversation. It would be tough coming up with actual topics to discuss that have relevance to one’s life. They had to shift gears from sharing a video of a baby giraffe taking its first steps to, “How was work yesterday? How did you score on your science project? Did you talk to the exterminator about coming next week?”
Scientists panic about global warming and coastal cities sinking into the oceans. Facebook users will sit in ankle deep water watching their grandchild fall down while skiing. More apropos will be the videos of icebergs calving into the ocean, capsizing a nearby fishing vessel.
Political scientists say Democracy has failed and our elected officials are narcissistic megalomaniacs who don’t care about their constituents. Facebook users will watch a politician get pelted with eggs repeatedly. But we can’t get 60 percent of the population to the polls every four years.
View a politician tripping on a step? Yes. Research where they stand and how they vote on issues that directly affect us? “Sorry, don’t have time. I’ve got to watch this Sri Lanka sunset video again.”
There are actually sunsets everywhere. Every evening. We have great ones here in the Española Valley. You can look at them without Facebook. Seriously, try it.
The end won’t come in fire or ice. It will come quietly and slowly as we hand over political, physical and mental control to whomever can give us the best juggling cat video.