Stop abusing Facebook statuses

Picture in your mind the most wonderful, pristine girl in the world. She cooks, rips your friends when they’re being complete tools, and is down for making any place her personal bedroom. For about 75 percent of you, the image of Vince’s porn-star girlfriend from Entourage pops up. Go with it. For girls, just picture Don Draper covered in flowers and Nicholas Sparks novels.

Now, imagine a herd of sinister masked men come in with crowbars and blowtorches and wallop your princess/50s sex symbol halfway to hell. They then proceed to leave her/man-god in the gutter where drunk people stumble by to relieve themselves on what remains of the convulsing human pulp.

That, my friends, is what has become of our beloved Facebook. What was originally designed as a facilitator to let fellow friends know where to find the best parties, drug orgies and underground cock fights has degenerated into a dumping ground for people’s intellectual back-alley abortions. A few seconds of perusing some of your friends’ hemorrhage-inducing statuses are enough to beg any higher power for a malignant brain tumor.

The culprits range in varying degrees of worthlessness. There are those who can’t resist telling you how much they love the soul mate they’ve been with for three days, dropping a profound quote from the Sparknotes of that one book they read in high school or tYpInG n SuPa KeWl SlAnG tHaT mAkEs Ur EyEz BlEeD. These are the lesser forms of filth.

Then there are those who go beyond the call of duty and just O.J. Simpson cyberspace and get away with it — again and again.

High on the list are those who feel the need to pontificate on politics that they stole from their parents’ dinner table. Because our state is thrust in the middle of an election, the troll infestation just keeps growing. Nobody cares if you think Barack Obama is a socialist, jihadist, Nigerian prince who runs pyramid schemes, or that the esteemed city commissioner that you pass out fliers for gained two new followers on Twitter.

Our next contestants on “Who Should Feel Darwin’s Hammer?” are those who can’t resist the burning urge to spread God’s word to all us dirty Philistines while one look at their photos from the night before would make Ted Haggard blush. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me … even that 12th body shot off the hairy Filipino hooker.” It would be better if these people had a millstone tied around their necks and thrown into the sea.

It’s bad these people make a mockery of literary license, but they have the nerve to get a farmer’s license? I’m a fan of all God’s creatures, especially those served on dinner plates and draped over rich women’s shoulders, but do we really need to know how many pretend chickens were saved on FarmVille today? I propose a new game — Jonestown. No animals, no Mafia fighting wars or personality quizzes — just one bowl of punch and all the Farmer Browns that can fit onto your screen.

CJ Pruner is a journalism senior.