According to an unconfirmed Internet report, a man was murdered today by his own Facebook account.
If true, it would be the first case in history of a website killing somebody, if you don’t count John McCain’s 2008 Presidential campaign.
Pending notification to his 84 Facebook friends … wait, 85 … the victim’s name has not been released to bloggers, his Twitter followers, or his actual physical family. A visitation will be held in Farmville, for those with any compost credits. According to a secondary administrator of his Fan page, the deceased man appears to have passed on peacefully and is lol.
Details of the crime are still sketchy, and theories are running rampant. One theory has it that the man got stuck in a Facebook conversation that was so pointless and inane that his entire limbic system just shut down. (He may have posted a desperate plea for help, only to realize that nobody on Facebook knew what “limbic” meant. Instead, somebody blamed George Bush for ruining the “Olympic” system.)
Some think the poor guy was mauled by an Unwanted Pet, or was the victim of a horribly pessimistic Fortune Cookie, or was gored by a tainted Poke. Others say the “Enter” key on his keyboard got stuck, and Facebook simply liked him to death.
Celebrity attorney Gloria Galldread, who is representing Facebook’s HTML code, scoffs at the attack charges. In a prepared statement that she read at least 400 times, she claimed that the man was simply depressed, due to the recent global Facebook service outage.
“It’s an understandable misunderstanding,” Galldread mumbled, while picking pieces of an ambulance bumper from her teeth. “During the downtime, many Facebook users were forced to go for hours, literally hours, without vital, life-changing personal updates. Nobody could give or receive a Secret Cocktail. Imagine – people simply could not find out what other people were planning to eat for dinner. To be sure, it was a disaster for human society. But murder? I think not.”
Other people, who knew the victim, had a more radical suggestion. They claimed the man had a very, very, very powerful computer, and Facebook finally managed to manifest itself as a live, conscious, breathing entity. Facebook became self-aware, and then, like any parasite, such as celebrity attorney Gloria Galldread, Facebook crawled across the room and ate its host.
Now, I don’t know if Facebook murdered the guy or not. But I have personally watched Facebook kill an entire weekend. It’s not pretty. I’ve seen it do it.
However, we shouldn’t lightly overlook the effect that a Facebook service outage could have on a Facebook addict. The Land of the Numb has claimed many, many victims, inexplicably drawn to skull-thudding commentary like this:
** You have received a Pet Cocktail.
** Last night, we had hot dogs with homemade chili.
** Does anything in the fossil record prove or disprove the existence of Barney?
** Hi lol. I going to pick up Junior from soccer lol. I hope nobody gets thrown off the island while im gone rotf! Or has to leave Dancing with the Stars lol HA HA HA!!! I saw a celebrity at a restaurant lol. Who new they 8 and stuff, just like us? rotf
** Homemade chili yum! We had a pot roast lol.
** Please give me any spare pumpkin credits, so I can celebrate having one more goat in Farmville that may one day become a Made Guy in Mafia Wars.
** I HEART pot roast! lol
** You have received a Fortune Cookie Horoscope invitation. Click here to irrevocably destroy your computer and any other computer connected to yours. This message brought to you by a 14-year-old wonder-coder sitting in a damp garage in Absurdistan. Click here to like me.
** Pot roast. That’s how we role. lol
** You have received a Great Big Kiss, and based on some of your comments, you are just the type of moron who will believe that it’s possible to experience a romantic relationship over a virtual Internet connection. Sitting here in our favorite Internet café in Absurdistan, we still can’t believe you clicked that attachment we sent. Oh, ye gods, the things I’m about to do to your bank account.
So. R.I.P., unknown Facebook victim. And the rest of you: just be careful in the Land of the Numb. It’s dangerous out there.
Especially when you get an Unwanted Pet Horoscope Fortune Cookie with a Farmville Automatic Weapon Cocktail Credit.