I Did It Myspace

Why haven’t I had a message one way or the other about the Cambridge Analytica thing?

I thought everyone who used, had, went near, can spell or absolute hates Facebook was going to get a message sent to them about whether or not any of their friends were the sort of bellends who insist on doing stupid quizzes to find out what kind of fruit they are or what movie they would be which then enabled the big evil people to harvest all your data and make you vote for Trump and to leave the EU.

I haven’t had a message.

Maybe my data is just so fricking dull that they did take it but realised what a tedious mistake that was and sort of just put it back. And now Facebook is struggling to find a way to tell me.

I’m thinking, if anything, it means that my data hasn’t been compromised – despite the best efforts of a large portion of my friends who do insist on doing stupid quizzes, posting fake news and other annoying stuff. I just post stuff about work on there now, to be honest. I can’t be on there too long because it just annoys me that people will believe anything because it’s written on Facebook. Especially when it takes five seconds of Google time to find out that, say, Mark Zuckerburg didn’t invent the word “BFF” and the fact it goes green has everything to do with an annoying animation you can activate and cock all to do with your account being protected.

Or that one about ATMs magically gripping your money if you enter your PIN in backwards. A trick that criminals don’t know about. That’s all over Facebook. Which criminals don’t use. I mean, it’s almost never mentioned after any sort of terrorist attack, when the experts are debating how these attacks could be planned. But the ones who steal money at ATMs don’t have time for checking in all the time…

Do you remember when Facebook was just a site you could hop onto and let you 400 friends know you were at the A&E, rather than taking the time to mention it personally to members of your family? Now you’re burdened with the knowledge that if they were a movie character someone you work with would be Scooby Doo, or whatever.


But still, I should have had a message, shouldn’t I?

Unless Facebook’s own algorithms that prevent you seeing what most of your friends are up to has managed to bury it somewhere, never to be seen, because it would rather I saw eighteen different UniLAD videos and a re-shared clip of an old episode of Britain’s Got Talent?

Bloody Facebook.