I am thisclose to deleting my Facebook.
The social media platform has always been a bottom-feeding time succubus, rife with attention-starved sycophants, starting with silly collegiate antics in the mid-aughts and these days populated more and more with older people sharing disgusting food videos and chain emails circa 1998. Then, ever since the Mephistophelean circus that was last year's presidential election, all of a sudden Facebook was overrun with couch activists on both sides of the aisle screaming into an incorrigible void until my news feed resembled the Greatest Hits of Pathetic Youtube Comments Brought to You By Trolls 'R Us.
We have reached a tipping point where we are bombarded by so much information at such alarming rates, most of it trivial, at best harmless and at worst humanity-condemning, that there is no possible hope of taming the beast. We have already gone over the brink. The center cannot hold.
One of these days I'll gather enough courage to pull off the Facebook Band-Aid instead of letting said Band-Aid sort of half-dangle as I mindlessly pick at the never-healed scab. When that day finally comes I will toss the Band-Aid into the trash, relish my newfound freedom until the pain becomes too unbearable, and promptly proceed to dress the gaping wound with an Instagram tourniquet.