I have this recurring fantasy - basically, I’m driving down a lovely country road on a beautiful, sunny day here in Indiana. I’m driving an old Chevy Silverado, with big old off-road Super Swamper tires. There’s an apple tree growing right by the side of the road, and I slow down, park next to, it and reach my arm out the window to pick one of the apples. I sink my teeth into it, and it tastes gloriously sweet. Then, my mouth still full of apple pulp, I suddenly find myself regurgitating what I’ve just begun to swallow. The reason why, is an absolutely horrible smell that’s causing me to become violently nauseous. I don’t know what it is or where it’s coming from, but it makes me drop the apple, and spit up what’s in my mouth, right out the window and onto the street.
I open the door to look around, trying to figure out what it is that’s causing the smell. Then I see it. There’s a dead yak lying right there in the road. Its fur is matted and tangled, and its skin is oozing with pus and dotted with bubonic sores, chancres, pustules, and boils. There are maggots crawling in and out of its flesh. I lean in closer, holding my hand over my mouth and nose - and then all of a sudden -
AAAAUUUUUUUNNNNHHHHH!
- the corpse - or so I thought - emits a great bellow that rings out, constricting my scrotum. I jump back in shock, and take another look at the creature. To my horror, it is not dead. The noxious, bloated beast lying in the road is still alive.
This yak represents Facebook.
Facebook, the once-great website that allowed college students to find old friends from high school and link together in a social network, used to be like a super-improved and simplified Myspace. It was easy to use, streamlined, and slick. Then the applications started coming, and it turned into a convoluted piece of shit.
Just yesterday, I received an email, and this is what it said:
"Hello,
You uploaded a photo that violates our Terms of Use, and this photo has been removed. Among other things, photos containing nudity, drug use, or other obscene content are not allowed, nor are photos that attack an individual or group. Continued misuse of Facebook’s features could result in your account being disabled."
I was thrown. “What?” I thought. I could not recall ever uploading a single file to Facebook that in any way, shape or form would have been construed as obscene, containing nudity or drug use, or anything else that violated their policy. I looked through all of my albums and posted images, trying to figure out what it was that they removed. I couldn’t figure it out. Jesus Christ, you goddamn imbeciles, if you’re going to do this, at least TELL ME what picture it was that you had to take down!
I emailed them back, saying I was confused and that I hadn’t realized that I’d uploaded an inappropriate picture, and asking what picture it was. They never responded to me.
So I get back into that old Chevy truck and shift into reverse. With a sad, forlorn glance at the pathetic half-dead yak lying in the road, I back up a good twenty yards, and then begin to drive forward, the smell of flesh-rot and lonely animal death pervading my nostrils with each inch of macadam rolled over by the tires’ treads. When I reach the yak, the treads dig in, and I hear the bones crunching. I can hear the pustules bursting and the gas gangrene gurgling out of the creature’s carcass, and I have to tense the muscles of my abdomen to keep from vomiting. But finally, after the sickening ordeal, I put it out of its misery at long last.
It was the only way.
