Passive-aggressive Facebooking

Yes, I did. I really used "Facebook" as a verb. Deal. I also realized when I sat down that it's almost 2:00 am, and I have not 7 but 8 pieces of music to play at church tomorrow. I'm grateful the sound guy for tomorrow's service reminded me I was missing one when I wrote last night. So I need to lay my tired head down and rest, but I did promise a post every day this month, so here's a quickie.

Instead of a post about vaginas or penises, I'm going to post a public service announcement ... or maybe it's a plea for one more like on Facebook. OK, it's another whine plus the closest thing I come to an advertisement.

I haven't mentioned Facebook likes in a long time. First, because my numbers are teeny tiny compared to those real bloggers who have thousands of followers. And second, because last time I did, somebody used my plea to slap me up the side of the head with one of the most passive-aggressive acts I've ever witnessed. And I've got some stories about passive-aggressive acts.

Anyway, last time I wrote that I was close to a nice, round number of Facebook likes someone who claimed to be a very close friend did the opposite of liking my page. He unliked it.

That was my first clue that we were no longer friends. That he no longer liked me. And isn't that the beauty of Facebook? He didn't have to say a word. One click and the message was

sent. The message that said, "I tried everything I could to get you to fuck me -- I mean I was so fucking nice it was ridiculous -- and you wouldn't have me. I've finally given up and found somebody else, and I don't like you any more. In fact, I've hated you for a long time, but now that I've given up, I'm going let it show, bitch."

Message sent. Message received. No words needed. Affirmation that I made the right decision exploded like 4th of July fireworks.

I've been thinking a lot about this topic for a while now. Elliot Rodger really kicked it to the front burner for a lot of women -- me included -- and the discussions have been valuable. Or maybe we've all just been preaching to the choir. I hope all these words have changed some minds.

What a lot of women are saying, and a lot of men are denying, is that Elliot Rodger isn't that rare -- except for that whole killing spree. Most men don't live out that fantasy. Lots of men do hate lots of women though because we won't fuck them when they think they deserve it. When they think they've earned it. When they think their role in our lives requires that we give our bodies .... our intimate bodies ... when they demand them.

I have more to say about that, and I will in the next few weeks. For now I will just say that I will never give my body to a man just because he thinks he deserves it. Not because he's smothered overwhelmed me with his niceness; not because we've had sex before; not because he's so persistent I finally give in. Not for a "like" on Facebook.

This is a really shitty way to say I only need one more "like," and Reticulated Writer will have 150 Facebook likes. It's a humble number of likes for a blogger, and Facebook will only show my posts to 10% of those who like my page. It's laughable that I'm even writing about it. So junior high popularity contest.

This is not the best deal of your life, I'll admit it. In fact, it's basically a wooden nickel. Snake oil.

I could boost my posts, but Facebook wants $10/day, and I don't make any money writing these posts. To be honest, it's not worth much to either of us, but it's a little nice ego bump for me.

I write this knowing there's always a chance somebody will stick it to me and reduce my numbers of likes instead of moving the number up to a nice, round, OCD-lovin' 150. I won't cry if that happens. I have 99 problems and Facebook unlikes are not one of them.

As I reread this I realize my bedside manner sucks big green donkey balls. It's too late to change that now though. If you want to, you can click the like button over there on the right column. If not, nothing changes. Jesus still loves you.

Night night.