Months ago, I took a vow of abstinence, and I failed. That is, I failed to abstain from my constant use of Facebook.
I told myself I would break my addiction to the all-consuming Internet socializing site. I thought we'd all be better off communicating with two Dixie cups connected by string.
And I've noticed the slow decay of our valued and traditional socializing habits - things we've spent thousands of years cultivating. But the situation can only worsen, thanks to Facebook founders' decision to inject our conversations with advertisements.
By the way, this column is brought to you by Verizon. Without Verizon, I wouldn't have cell phone service, and I would have to use those Dixie cups. Verizon: Can you hear me now? Good.
It's also brought to you by Dixie cups. Without Dixie cups, my comment in paragraphs two and five would not be possible. Dixie: Make it a Dixie day.
Just kidding. I don't have enough Facebook friends to be sponsored at this point.
Facebook unveiled its new plan to have companies advertise through users' buying habits, hobbies and interests, according to a Wednesday article from The Associated Press. Apparently, Facebook will give members some control over whether to share information with companies, but enough users must say yes for the program to work.
So we're still plagued by addiction. Now it's just an addiction possibly sponsored by our most-purchased products' companies. A market analyst in the article called Facebook "everybody's darling." I think he meant "darkling."
If users feel exposed now, wait until corporate America gets its hands on their profiles. Facebook would be exploiting its members, possibly scaring off friends with differing views about the products members are "advertising." Plus, since when does socializing equal selling?
But let's face facts. This Web site, with a net worth of about ,15 billion, is nowhere near extinction. Facebook has become a necessary evil, like cell phones or politicians.
I'll be the first to admit Facebook allows me to stay in contact with various people who I probably would never talk to regularly.
For instance, I recently reconnected with a high-school friend through Facebook, and as a result I learned about an internship opportunity. But first I Facebook-stalked her and found out everything she's been up to since we lost touch. I didn't even really have to chat with her.
Facebook is also a self-esteem booster. Whenever I've had a Debbie Downer kind of a day, I just stare at my Facebook picture and say, "Damn, I look good."
Who am I kidding? Facebook is not necessary - it's just evil. But for some reason, I can't stop using it. I'm sure most people share this almost inexplicable Facebook obsession.
But hopefully, I'll wake up and smell the strategically placed advertisements throughout my conversations with friends on Facebook.
Hopefully, I'll be enraged when I see Travelocity posted my profile picture to advertise its service.
Hopefully, I'll end my obsession with Facebook when I realize it's gone too far. Hopefully, I'll see that Facebook's greedy move will trivialize any sincerity left in the Web site.
But maybe it won't end there. Maybe I won't even stop visiting the site after I see Facebook has essentially pimped out all its members to its sponsoring companies.
But exposing a nefarious corporate plot makes me hungry. I think I'll head to Publix, where shopping is a pleasure.
Stephanie Rosenberg is a junior majoring in journalism. Her column appears on Thursdays.
