Men are not immune from wasting time; after all, ESPN was built on the idea that males are inclined (while reclining) to munch on potato chips and watch a string of meaningless college basketball games or fake wrestling matches.
But I suspect that females are far more likely to waste time with Facebook, a medium I define as an intellectual wasteland filled with snarky snippets and girly giggles.
Granted, I’m not on Facebook. If I care to know a person, I also know their address or their telephone number. (The U.S. Post Office appreciates that I’m one of the 238 people left in the country who still writes personal letters).
The immediacy of Facebook is a central problem. People write and say things that are either silly, or wouldn’t have been said if the person had thought how the comment would be perceived by others. Just because we think something doesn’t mean we should pass it on to hundreds of other people.
About 99 percent of the posts I see on Facebook are immature meanderings. I don’t care what you ate for breakfast. I have no interest in what your cat did to your new sofa. The world is not a better place because you post 218 photos of your family trip to Disneyland. The fact that you think Pres. Obama was educated at the University of Mars or the Kenyan Islamic Terrorist Center makes me wonder how I could ever be friends with someone who should be institutionalized.
I suppose Facebook is a form of self-esteem. (“Hey, I’m important because people really want to follow by daughter’s potty-training experience”).But when I see people addicted to Facebook, I think of the line, “This must be a great for you Р meeting me!