Zuckerberg’s Army


When Zuckerberg’s Army came for me, there was no reason to fight. I was the last human being on earth not on Facebook. I knew it. They knew it. We were all long past any reason to struggle. I would go quietly.

It was a gray winter afternoon in a big city that sat obediently in the northern part of the United States. Snow threatened. The music I had on was an old song by Greg Brown with the lyric:

“There’ll be one corporation selling one little box

It’ll do what you want and tell you what you want and cost whatever you got.”

Facebook revenue had just surpassed the gross national product of Europe. China had finally acquiesced, asking only for their own “wall.”

World news was dominated that day by the entire land mass of New Zealand being submerged under a mile high tsunami that American scientists had pinpointed as originating deep in the frozen tundra of Antarctica. As the stories of the devastation began to surface like ancient ruins in an endless watery grave—reported of course through Facebook—American political leaders sought to calm the world business community with proclamations stating that the tragedy had nothing to do with global warming.

Statements verified by Facebook.

So there were bigger issues than Zuckerberg’s Army knocking on my door.

To be precise, what really happened was that a door knocking sound began emanating from the computer speakers on my desk. My sleek little Mini Mac box began to throb and then jump like an old cartoon of an alarm clock going off.

The freelance management training piece I was working on to help the internet’s newest “it” company figure out that they might not want to let supervisors go months without having an actual conversation with an employee suddenly got much less important. Even if I was being paid money to create and deliver the piece.

It’s really easy to loose focus when your computer starts spitting out a door knocking sound every 32 seconds.

After about 2 minutes of the knocking, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I said to the room I had thought was empty, I said with as much control in my voice as I could muster,

“What??????”

To which the voice of Zuckerberg himself replied in friendly tones, “Sup dude?”

Through gritted teeth I said, “Do I know you?”

“Chill dude. Guess that doesn’t really matter, does it? Now you know you’re coming with us. But before you do, I’m just kinda, well, what’s the word they used to use. . . .oh I remember! Curious! That’s it. I’m kinda curious. So tell me, why did you stay out in the cold so long? Why didn’t you sign up? What did we ever do to you?

“Oh, you never did anything! I mean, I didn’t have any big philosophical position. I just never saw the point.”

“Dude. The point is friends! What, you don’t like parties? You don’t have friends? You don’t LIKE friends?”

“Mr. Zuckerberg sir. It’s not that I . . .”

“Hey, Mr. Zuckerberg is my Dad! Feel free to call me Dude. That is unless you’re my Dad. You’re not my Dad are you?”

“Probably not. But in case I was, could I have a loan? There’s this little bookstore I’d like to start. . .”

“No such thing as a little bookstore, Dad. Or Dude. Or whatever. But you know we’re all friends here. So tell me. What kept you from my party?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess it’s because when I go to a party. I don’t often work the room. What I like to do is find one person. Sit in the corner. And talk with them for awhile. Does that make me a bad friend? Or somebody you wouldn’t want to lend, oh I don’t know, whatever change you’ve got in your pocket right now and help me out with that bookstore. Or even maybe help me find an agent. I just finished my fourth book and I. . .”

“Yeah. Well that is awesome Dad. And I would love to help you out. I remember books. I even read some. So I’m all about bookstores. And I’m sure there are messages from 5 or 6 hundred agents wanting me to do a book, all of those messages sitting back in the server outside one of my houses. So I could pop you one of those, but you see I gotta run. So I’ll get back to you and. . .”

“Mr. Zuckerberg, that’s the other part that kept me away. Right there. The ‘I’ll get back to you,’ thing. See, one of the things about virtual communication is that a whole lotta times, no one does get back to you. No one answers back. You scream into the void, you write on a wall and you never know if someone’s listening because no one answers back!”

“Wow. You are one intense Dude, Dad. People are like, well, I guess the word would be busy. Yeah, busy. I basically don’t do replies myself. But that’s just my thing.”

“I see. Well, no worries. I understand. And I’m coming quietly. I’ll be posting pictures. Writing on walls. Saying “awesome!” a lot. I’ll be good. You’ll see. Pretty soon, you won’t even know I’m there.”

“That’s what we’re counting on dude. That’s what we’re counting on. Calm, cool, sweet. Not even knowing you’re there. That’s what we want. You go ahead and have as many screen names as you want too. That’s all cool!”

“Oh, Mr. Zuckerberg. Just one more question before we go. It’s about the music. Sometimes I have music playing in my head. No one else hears it but me. It’s just kind of part of who I am. So, my question is this;

Can YOU hear the music playing in MY head too?”

“Oh no! Whatever songs are in your head? They’re just yours! No one can hear them but you. At least, for now. In our next release we’ll have a way for you to share the songs in your head with friends. The engineers are working on it now. Actually it’s in beta. But as of right this moment? The only one who knows the songs playing in your head is you.

So are you cool with that? You all calmed down and everything? Wouldn’t want anybody in the army—especially the very last person to join—to be agitated or excitable or anything but mellow and fine. Cool?”

“Cool Mr. Z. Nothing agitated. Nothing excitable about me.

Nothing excitable at all. See how calm I am?

I just can’t wait to write on my first wall!

You can tell your army I’m ready now.”

One Response to “Zuckerberg’s Army”

  1. Paul Haider Says:

    I would much rather be a member of Zevon’s Army than a member of the network created by a socially inept billionaire like Dork Zuckerberg. In fact, being the excitable boy that I already am it is probably best for Zuckerberg to stay away from me as it is best for me to avoid Facebook like the Plague that it has become. It certainly was polite of the sociopath in “Excitable Boy” to give Susie a ride home after he raped and killed her; he also went down to dinner wearing his Sunday best! Warren, we still miss you and need you back here again.
    Paul Haider, Chicago

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