Facebook Faux Pas Part Deux: The Oversharing Epidemic Continues

82894449362364757_XcftxUat_cAbout a year ago, I wrote a diatribe against everyone’s favorite social-networking website, Facebook. It wasn’t the site itself that I had a gripe over, but rather, the usage of its power in the wrong hands. My sentiments continued taking up brainspace throughout the year and yet again resurfaced after reading Roger Cohen’s New York Times piece about oversharing back in December. Being an original Facebook launch user and considering the site’s progression and our social evolution because of it, I’ve come to this conclusion: Society is beyond screwed.

I came to this conclusion while perusing the Book of Faces one day, having witnessed one of the most repulsive posts I have ever seen. A Facebook friend was tagged in a photo of a potty training little boy who was finally pooping in his toy training potty. (I don’t even know what to call those fake toilet things because I don’t have kids and that is gross.) Now, because this Mother of the Year tagged my friend, strangers (myself included) were now watching her son shit.

This lady must be off her meds or having a psychotic break because I can’t figure out WHY someone would put their child, half-naked and pooping, on the Internet. I even considered posting that picture here to further press my point, but got too sketched out. But dammit, I should’ve, because that’s what happens when you’re an idiot and post your idiocy on the Internet without the proper privacy controls. Anyone can view your business (uhh, literally in this case) and do with it as they please.

Oversharing on the Web has become an epidemic and there appears to be no cure. I don’t really care what you had for lunch and you can save your photos plans-sound-really-interesting-wedding-ecard-someecardsfor Instagram. I definitely don’t care that you’re tired, cranky and haven’t had your coffee yet. And I couldn’t give any less of a fuck that you’re getting married in six months, found a photographer, sent your invites or found pretty decorations, because bitch, you’re crazy and I feel bad for your husband to be.

Can’t anything just be private anymore? Have we learned nothing from Jodie Foster? The flood gates have opened and there doesn’t seem to be any way to dam them back up. Perhaps sanity-cursed individuals like myself will simply get sick of tiresome, inane posts and branch off, reconnecting with the world around us, meeting for brunches and happy hours while keeping our SmartPhones securely in our pockets or purses. Maybe it’s time to shed ourselves of these open book social media users, who simultaneously complain about the weather, their jobs, and the flu they can’t kick, all while taking duck-faced self portraits of themselves. And don’t get me wrong – I love social media. But maybe it’s time to rejoin and reconnect with society as it was before, or at least have some semblance of boundaries.

I probably sound like a curmudgeon, and surely there will be some who will not agree. This is clearly the opinion of one, and you know what they say: Opinions are like assholes. It’s just that if you’re posting photos of your child’s latest bowel movement on Facebook for the whole world to see, well, you are the asshole.

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