You’ve Got A Facebook Friend

The revolution is upon us, comrades.

Gone are the days when ‘writing on the wall’, when not employed in the metaphorical sense, simply constituted an indictable offence.

Over are the times when pigeons were utilised in the delivery of the private message, left structurally unemployed in their flocks.

The act of making new acquaintances is now plagued with shifting eyes & nervous nodding, curiosity feigned in a desperate attempt to disguise the fact that you’ve just spent countless hours scrawling over said new acquaintance’s profile, posted items, super wall, draft will & albums from their recent excursion to the Galapagos Islands with their intermediate biology class where they got with that chick who plays bass in your brother’s old band but she clearly doesn’t wish the world at large to learn of any of that because she’s untagged herself from all of the shots where she’s pictured in his immediate vicinity. I mean, it’s so obvious. Or, you know, whatever.

Facebook has grown to become a synonym for social evolution.

The sweaty hand: a tell-tale sign of the skewed knowledge base belying the seemingly innocent making of an acquaintance.

I consider myself something of a veteran in these parts. Having been coerced by a friend who’d returned from exchange in Boston where she’d spent a semester hobnobbing with the irreparably converted, I joined the ranks of Facebook in December 2005. And let me tell you, them’s were rough times. None of these fandangled regional networks, statuses or photo uploads, no siree. The Sydney Uni network boasted half a dozen users, all of whom were too scared to add, too shy to poke. You were lucky if you brushed up against the virtual tumbleweed drifting through that place.

(obligatory shaking of head) How things have changed. It now appears everyone has found their page in that big book up in the cybernetic ether, from your current boss, your highschool sweetheart and your Belgian hitchhiking buddy, to that kid you vaguely remember from preschool who exhibited a chronic Freudian fixation with pottery.

It is on this note, dear readers, that I feel a song would most appropriately mark the disparity of our times and pay tribute to that all-encompassing domain of staged & stilted communication: Facebook.

(duet to the tune of Carole King’s You’ve Got A Friend)

You’ve Got A Facebook Friend

When you’re down & troubled
‘Cause you need more Facebook Friends
But no-one, no no-one confirms at all.
Close your eyes and add me.
And soon I’ll add you back
To brighten up even your starkest wall.

You just search out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll be logging on, oh yeah babe,
To poke you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall,
With the help of Facebook you needn’t call
‘Cause I’ll be online, yes I will,
You’ve got a friend.

I admit, I’ve checked your profile
Even though we’re not yet friends
And while it may sound creepy, that’s not where it ends.
May have scanned your posted items,
Seen your photos from Kuwait
And in your name, created a group…or eight.

Tagged these shots of you blind.
It says here you’re liberally inclined.
You’re a maverick, a beatnik, a star
For quoting Family Guy.
In secret, think your music taste sucks.
So why don’t I go check my Honesty Box
‘Cause you’ll tell me this, yes you will,
You are my friend.

Now ain’t it good to know
That you’ve got a friend
When randoms can be so bold.
They’ll super-poke you, make a joke of you
And take your free gift if you let them,
But don’t you let them.

I just call out your name
In the hope you’ll add me someday
But I’ve already added you, babe,
Just check my status update.
Winter, spring, summer or fall,
All you have to do is click wall-to-wall
And your mini-feed, it’ll read,
You and I are now friends.
We’re facebook friends.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend,
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend.
You’ve got a Facebook friend.