Opinion | Facebook Timeline

Upon learning that Facebook was changing the user interface to something called “Timeline,” I was a wee bit annoyed, but then again, this is the same site that really ought to strongly consider changing its name to The Social Network that Fixes the Unbroken.  Case in point: In the past few years alone, it has continually screwed with privacy settings, and, with each new “fix,” has rendered public by default items (such as contact information) that may have been previously restricted to a limited audience in certain profiles. Indeed, Facebook now practically guarantees that users have even less control of their information more than ever.

Further, all of this is done so that the company can continue to sell user data to unknown third parties for reasons unknown. Well, let’s not be coy here, we know precisely why. Consumer data is a goldmine for marketers, and, now apparently, also to an increasingly invasive federal government. Let me put it to you this way –It is astoundingly naïve and foolish not to know/be concerned that everything said or “liked” on Facebook is being stored indefinitely, whether the account has been deleted or not.  But don’t get me started on that, eh? Let’s return to Timeline.

Since this new feature has been foisted upon users regardless of preference, I wanted to at least attempt to give it a fair shake. I tend to disparage anything that is forcibly shoved down my throat, so let’s think of this review as my effort to make lemonade from piss and vinegar, shall we.

The forced usage of Timeline for individuals was set to occur on 28 February, 2012 (30 March is the slated roll-out for pages), but I wanted to give myself the illusion of having some control over the situation, and, so I elected to start using it approximately a week-and-a-half in advance.

Upon first glance, it did not appear to be all that bad. Sure, the wall seemed a lot more cluttered now, and, settings were not located where they previously had been, but let’s base my evaluation on something more substantive, such as privacy settings. Contrary to the entire idea of Facebook, yours truly is one of the very few who has no interest in announcing personal details to the world. I’ll keep every intimate crotch shifting episode and incident of flatulence to myself and confidant, thanks. There is such a thing as too much information, but this fact is lost on the attention whore mentality of Facebook.

With the implementation of Timeline, items such as name, gender, profile image, username, user ID account number, and networks is now public information whether you want it to be or not. Facebook nonchalantly makes mention of this fact, and, then assures you that the reason for this disclosure is of paramount importance –to help you connect with your friends and family! Gasp. Shock. Really?? Essentially, Facebook is telling you in no uncertain terms that it knows better than you do.

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Just about the only control you do have in this regard is to modify who can find you in a search. And while this is a nice scrap to toss to those users with privacy concerns, let’s not mistake it for filet mignon. The fact remains that you may limit your profile from a general search, but it is still possible to find it. You’re not invisible so don’t go thinking that you are.

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With regard to a particular privacy setting that Facebook seems to be keeping quiet. (I could not find a reference in the Help section)  Previously, the user had the ability to set whether likes and comments (recent activity) were shared. This setting has disappeared with Timeline. Now any friends that have “all updates” checked beside your name will get your likes and comments in their news feed whether you want them to or not.

Facebook has effectively taken control of this information away from the user and given it to the user’s friends. This is tantamount to putting blinds on the outside of your windows. The only way around it is to create two user profiles –one for friends and another for other.

I have taken the time to bullet the blue sky (gratuitous U2 reference) with the pros and cons of Timeline referenced below. Some of the features highlighted were previously unavailable. Be advised that it is by no means exhaustive, and, even if it were, it wouldn’t be for very long. Facebook tends to bury settings in a labyrinthine maze of clusterfuck every 3-4 months depending on how much blowback is published, and, with each subsequent change, the negatives always seem to outnumber the positives. But until somebody creates a viable alternative, it will continue to run roughshod over user concerns.

UPDATE:  Facebook makes quite the show of announcing that the Activity Log is used to control the visibility of likes & comments.  However, the reality is that the user has two very limited choices: (1) Delete the comment/like; or (2) Restrict visibility to himself. 

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©2012 Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Of Duct Tape & Warts

Warts (AKA “verruca vulgaris”) are caused by the Human Papilloma Virus (“HPV”) which is the same virus that causes the itchy blisters that are found on the crotch and/or lips of the sexually promiscuous. (Or, in some cases, on their innocent victims.) But this particular event is better known by its happy, fun time name of Herpes. So think of verruca vulgaris as the bastard, red headed, stepchild of Herpes. (Hey, it’s only fitting.)

Warts are common in 70% of the worldwide population. (No, I did not pull that stat out of my ass; Look it up if you need confirmation.) They can appear at any age, usually on the extremities –hands and feet– and can grow either as a single lesion or in clusters. The kind that occur on the bottom of the foot are called plantar, as in, the name of the foot bone. But no matter which body part these repulsive little fuckers crop up, they are almost always treated with cryotherapy, that is, freezing the wart with liquid nitrogen. The expected outcome is that the wart will then dry up and fall off. Results with this sort of management have been modest, to say the least.

It has been reported by the medical establishment that cryotherapy has a 60% success rate in treating warts, which, assuming you have health insurance and/or the money, seems like it could be the way to go. But what if you’re one of the 44 million (or thereabouts) of the American population without health care or don’t have the extra scratch to private pay a doctor’s office. What, then, can you do about evicting the unsightly resident squatting on the primo real estate of your hand? Or, for that matter, any other body part.

Well I’m glad you asked! Maybe you’ve heard of the duct tape myth –it goes something like this  –Covering a wart with common duct tape for several days results in killing the wart. If that sounds like a bunch of BS to you, consider yourself in good company. Upon having read about this great “cure,” yours truly jeered and laughed contemptuously, which, considering the source, was entirely appropriate. I don’t generally believe everything I read no matter where I find it –whether in print or on the web. Doubting Thomas has absolutely nothing over Doubting Peyton, that’s for damn sure. But, at the time I read about the duct tape cure, I was trying to get rid of my own unwanted visitor that was situated at the base of my index finger.

I don’t know how or why it showed up. One day the area was clear, and the next, there was this itchy bump thing that appeared out of nowhere. I had never before had a wart, and, so knew next to nothing about the causes or treatment. (It’s always funny until someone loses an eye. Or so goes the conventional joke.) But I had, however, heard about over-the-counter treatments advertised on television. So I went out to the store and bought a bottle of a well known brand name containing salicylic acid. The same medication used to treat acne.

Over a six month time frame, I went through approximately four bottles of the stuff. Each time, the viscous solution would dry to form a hard shell over the wart, and, then I’d snip off both solution and wart with nail clippers. One would think this would be the end of it, but one would be incorrect. Within record time, the wart would grow back where it had been removed. It was a lot like drop- kicking an illegal Mexican back into his own country during the morning only to find that he was right back where you ejected him from by nightfall.

Like most Americans, the health insurance I had at the time was a joke. It was going to cost extra for treatment on top of the co-pay. So I decided not to pay the ridiculous amount, and, opted instead, to handle it myself. That’s when I went searching on the web and found numerous duct tape testimonials. There were scores of people who were evidently willing to attest as to the tape’s efficacy in treating warts.  

The tape being just a common household item (and not some pricey medication) there wasn’t much of a profit motive for so many to be so enthusiastic. After all, it wasn’t like anyone (save for stores selling duct tape) was going to make a buck shilling for the product.   Further, given the quantity of commendations, there was just no way even one-tenth of them could have have been planted by some enterprising duct tape seller looking to pump up sales.  (If you’ve ever read the comment section of well known online book sellers & such then you know exactly what I’m referring to.)

After I quit chuckling, I bought a roll of generic duct tape from an office supply store. I then slapped a big piece over the affected area. It was inconvenient initially, because keeping the area dry was next to impossible. I remember sticking my hand into a plastic sandwich baggie to protect the tape from getting wet in the shower. By the third day, the tape was peeling so I decided to remove it and reapply.

I fully expected the wart to be intact and smiling at me like a Cheshire cat, but when I pulled back the tape gingerly, I saw that it had dried up into a white, flaky mass. Pulling back the tape even more, what appeared to be a root was stuck to the adhesive and came out effortlessly and painlessly. The root reminded me of a potato “eye.” Once I cleaned up the affected area of the residue from the tape, there was a small crater where the wart had been, but it was 100% healed within 72 hours.

Various theories abound as to why duct tape kills warts. From the pine tar found in the adhesive backing to “smothering” the wart with the tape.  But what I understand is that warts squat in the layer of skin that the immune system does not have access to due to absence of blood vessels. The tape somehow alerts the immune system and it takes over from there, attacking the virus and subsequently subduing it. 

Note here that HPV never goes away.  Duct tape does not kill the virus.  Once it’s in your system, it’s yours to keep.  It travels around the body manifesting itself in the form of cold sores and/or warts (non-genital) depending on how stressed the immune system is. 

While there is no one definitive explanation, one thing is certain –an 85% success rate has been reported when duct tape is used versus the 60% cryotherapy rate. Bottom line: Duct tape is less expensive, and, has fewer adverse effects both physiologically, as well as financially, than cryotherapy.

REFERENCES:

eMedicine

AAFP

©2012 Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Samaritan Sunday

According to the FreeYourMindandThink page, pluralistic ignorance is when during an emergency, the more bystanders there are, the less likely it is that any of them will actually help.  They assume nothing is wrong because nobody else looks concerned.  S/he further goes on to explain that there is a process during each of which they can:

(1) Decide to do nothing.

(2) Notice the event (or in a hurry and not notice).

(3) Realize the emergency (or assume that as others are not acting, it is not an emergency).

(4) Assume responsibility (or assume that others will do this).

(5) Know what to do (or not)

(6) Act (or worry about danger, legislation, embarrassment, etc.)And by and large, this writer tends to agree.  The average

Americans are far too self-absorbed and oblivious to notice much of anything these days, especially if it did not happen to appear in the news feed of their social networking page.  But, much to my astonishment, yours truly recently had an experience that defies the general convention of the above referenced mindset.

Just this past weekend, I had been wanting to snail mail an important document to go out in Monday’s post.  Because four of the five mail clusters with outgoing mail slots on the property where I live had been vandalized, this necessitated a hike over to the one that had not been molested.  No matter, I would just hop on my bike and peddle over there.  The trip would take approximately 15 minutes or slightly less depending on how long I futzed around outside.

I lifted my bike over the short patio wall, the heavy duty shock absorber in the tail making the rear tire bounce a little as I set it down. Then I hopped over the wall myself.  I was walking the bike down the two concrete steps to the sidewalk when I heard the soft whoosh of a door opening behind me.  It was an unfamiliar neighbor carrying an empty blue bottle of vodka, presumably on his way over to the recycle bin.  Strange to be making a special trip for a single item (or so I thought) but, I greeted him, nonethess.  I then saddled up, and, was on my way to the mailbox.  Because the afternoon was cold and gloomy, and I was wearing shorts, there would be a lot more peddling and a lot less futzing. 

With the wind gusting and threatening rain any moment, when I got to within twenty-five feet of my destination, I reached down into the front pocket of my fleece hood where I had tucked the envelope before I left the house only to find that it was gone.  It must have slipped out at some point.  No matter, I would just re-trace my path. I was confident I would find the envelope.

But for vodka bottle neighbor, I hadn’t seen another soul outside on this stormy day, so it wasn’t likely that any errant child would have picked it up and taken off with it much like what had happened to a neighbor that I’m content to call Fast Eddie.  Eddie has mobility problems and gets around in a wheelchair, and, one fine day, he had left it sitting alongside his parking space after he pivot-transferred into the driver’s seat.  And when he returned, his chair was gone.  Who the hell steals a wheelchair, you may ask?  Depraved children, that’s who.  But I digress.

I doubled-back several times over my tracks scrutinizing every scrap of paper and crumpled tissue lying in the street, but the envelope was nowhere to be found.  Sigh.  Someone must have recovered it and who even knows what they would do with it. Probably the same thing that was done with the outgoing mail when the vandals broke into the receptacles. Thieves take mail looking for anything they can make work in their favor –from gift cards and social security numbers to altering a check that they can then make out to themselves. Whether theft is perpetrated by postal employees or strangers in your ‘hood, the Federal Trade Commission and Office of the Inspector General websites are full of complaints about stolen mail, particularly government-issued checks.

On the last double-back effort, I had just about resigned myself into accepting that my mail was lost to the pitiless, concrete clutches of the macadam (or some nefarious neighbor) when I noticed something sticking out of the outgoing mail slot in the cluster of mailboxes closest to my unit.  It looked like it could be a brown edged envelope like my missing piece of mail.  Evidently, this receptacle had since been repaired, but I didn’t know that else I would not have gone to the other side of the property. 

I was prepared to be disappointed because those dark clouds directly overhead aren’t strictly limited to rain cloud phenomena; The misfortune they almost always seem to auspicate for me never miss an opportunity to piss on my head, and, this day was not an exception.  As I neared the mail slot, when what to my wondering eyes should appear but holy fuckin’ shit.  It was my envelope! 

Turns out every five hundred years or so, things go my way.  Some good Samaritan had evidently picked it up from the street, and, walked it over to the mailbox for me.  And while this lone, fluke event won’t change a lifetime’s worth of accumulated misanthropic opinions of my fellow humans in any substantive way, it’s still pleasant, nonetheless, to be reminded that not everyone is a bag of douche.  There may yet be hope for the planet.

©2012 Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo™ with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.