Sunday, June 2, 2013

Facebook FAIL Rant


Nearly all my screen filled with the new Facebook header: FAIL.
OMG Facebook, if you get any more crochety, I'm going to shoot my screen. Today, I can't access my pages because your blue header wants to hog my entire screen so I can only see three lines of text at a time. Yesterday all my Pages disappeared from my Newsfeed (only to be replaced by my Groups, and nothing but Groups).

I had to search you in order to access my own Artist Page—only to find that half my comments and posts appeared under my regular screen name. Of course there were mistakes. Glaring typos make me cranky. Then, you wouldn't let me edit my own comments on my thread—threatening blockage and expulsion from the tribe and whatnot.

There I was trying to switch back and forth from my homie Page to my Artist Page to fix the typos (no, I'm not a Gemini, but I live with one), and all I got for my effort was a stalled page with spinning beachballs. Talk about unresponsive script.

BTW, I don't like the word No, let alone Forbidden on a good day. It makes me all snorty and bothered. And that's never a good thing. Ask my partner. Ballistic comes to mind.

Dear Facebook, I won't even mention how S L O W you are these days. Did you know that I can read an entire Wiki article in the time it takes you to refresh the Newsfeed page? Forget about switching back to reload Home Page. Who has that kind of time to spare? Apparently Limbolandia is a large blue Facebook header across my entire home screen. So much for Cover Photo.

My dear social media portlet, with your server shenanighans, you brought Firefox to a screeching halt replete with spinning Gay Pride beachballs everywhere. It was quite festive, but impractical to browse with.

So, with my other browser fired up, while you juggled your balls, I've manged to read everything written on Wiki about the entire Indo-European linguistic continuum. Ask me anything about Proto-Celtic, Tokarian A, B or C, cetum vs setum borders, velars, datives, or ablutives; or the classification of the entire cat family—from caracals to pumas.

I also managed to read all of Col. Chris Hadfield's old tweets, and view all his space photos back to the beginning of April too. I was tempted to draw googlie eyes and a moustache on one of your spinning beachballs with a Sharpie.

And what's with the spinning tractor tread cursor at the bottom of my stalled Newsfeed anyway? You're not my Finder, or my browser. This shouldn't be happening. And yes, I have DSL. But I might as well be on dial-up, or using tin cans with string.

Get it together Facebook, your slippage is showing. A good thing I can multi-task with multiple browsers, or I'd have gnawed my other left foot clean off waiting for Godot to find you. Just call me Estragon. Or GoGo for short. These boots are made for walking. I'm outta here.


Thank you. I feel better now.








There's a bit of a backstory to the left foot bit. (Isn't there always?) We certainly didn't get off on the right foot yesterday. Remember My Left Foot with Daniel Day Lewis? Well, in the early '60s my grannie showed me a newspaper article on Christy Brown—replete with his watercolors done with—yep—his left foot (that's the only limb he had...) I learned about what is possible.

I actually tried to paint with my left foot too. (I was an odd child). And then, I have dyslexia, so whenever I turn the wrong way in a car—we shout: No, the OTHER left (or right). Ya hadda be there.

No comments: