Facebook Suicide (Bomb) Manifesto

Facebook Suicide (Bomb) Manifesto  

Everyone  now  wants  to  know  how  to  remove  themselves  from  social  networks.  It   has  become  absolutely  clear  that  our  relationships  to  others  are  mere  points  in  the   aggregation  of  marketing  data.  Political  campaigns,  the  sale  of  commodities,  the   promotion  of  entertainment  –  this  is  the  outcome  of  our  expression  of  likes  and   affinities.  And  at  what  cost?  The  reward  is  obvious:  we  no  longer  have  to  tolerate   advertisements  for  things  for  which  we  have  no  interest.  Instead  our  social   relations  are  saturated  with  public  relations.  But  at  least  it  is  all  *interesting*!     Unlike  the  old  days,  when  we  could  invent  online  identities  daily,  our  social   networks  today  require  fidelity  between  our  physical  self  and  our  online  self.  The   situation  is  unbearable.     The  frightening  consequence  of  it  all  is  that  we  believe  in  the  value  of  these   networks.  We  understand  perfectly  well  that  our  privacy  is  being  renegotiated   without  our  consent;  the  rules  are  changing  in  plain  view;  but  we  still  participate!   It  is  like  a  new  form  of  money,  something  we  realize  is  a  myth,  but  we  act  like  it  is   real  and  that  is  its  power.  We  can’t  leave  because  everyone  else  is  there!  Or   because  we  are  invested  in  the  myth  ourselves.     The  question  is  how  do  we  extract  ourselves  from  this  predicament?     Recently,  some  programmers  figured  out  how  to  computationally  do  exactly  this.   By  entering  in  your  username  and  password,  the  software  would  delete  as  much   information  as  possible,  ultimately  removing  the  account  itself.  It  was  a  radical   enough  idea  to  attract  the  legal  attention  of  Facebook.     This  software  did  not  go  far  enough!     When  someone  disappears  from  Facebook,  does  anyone  notice?  Does  this  software   retroactively  invalidate  all  of  the  marketing  data  that  has  been  collected  from  the   account?  Has  this  person  de-­‐dividuated  themselves?  No,  silence  has  not  disrupted   the  system  in  the  slightest!     Social  networks  need  a  social  suicide.  In  the  same  way  that  99.99999%  of  users  on   Facebook  don’t  exist  within  the  cloistered  world  of  one’s  home  page,  an  invisible   user  –  one  who  has  committed  suicide  –  is  simply  a  non-­‐factor  in  the  constant  and   regular  computational  logic  of  the  thing.  The  answer  isn’t  silence,  but  noise!  

  Suicide  on  a  social  network  is  a  matter  of  introducing  noise  into  the  system.  It   spreads  viruses  and  misinformation.  It  makes  things  less  interesting  for  others.  It   disrupts  the  finely  calibrated  advertising  algorithms  on  which  suggestions  are   made  –  for  friends,  groups,  institutions,  ideas,  and  so  on.  Social  networking   captures,  quantifies,  and  capitalizes  on  positive  feedback.  It  records  and   reproduces  similarity.  Oh  yes,  everyone  is  not  watching  one  of  three  mass-­‐ produced  choices;  but  beneath  all  of  the  possibilities  there  is  only  one  choice!  The   one  for  you!     A  roadmap  for  an  effective  Facebook  suicide  should  do  some  of  the  following:   catching  as  many  viruses  as  possible;  click  on  as  many  “Like”  buttons  as  possible;   join  as  many  groups  as  possible;  request  as  many  friends  as  possible.  Wherever   there  is  the  possibility  for  action,  take  it,  and  take  it  without  any  thought   whatsoever.  Become  a  machine  for  clicking!  Every  click  dissolves  the  virtual   double  that  Facebook  has  created  for  you.  It  disperses  you  into  the  digital  lives  of   others  you  hadn’t  thought  of  communicating  with.  It  confuses  your  friends.  It  pulls   all  those  parts  of  the  world  that  your  social  network  refuses  to  engage  with  back   into  focus,  makes  it  present  again.     Invisibility  comes  in  many  forms,  and  on  social  networks  it  is  the  form  of  a  radical   overload  of  information  –  a  maximum  participation.  No  more  thought,  because   every  considered  click  adds  to  the  collaborative  filtering  algorithms  that  makes   sure  everyone  continues  to  like  what  they  like,  but  in  slightly  modified  form.  Click   everywhere,  click  often,  and  don’t  stop  until  you  have  disappeared  beneath  a  flood   of  meaninglessness.     This  is  a  call  for  suicide,  for  the  abandonment  of  seriousness  and  belief.  It  is  a  call   to  reclaim  ourselves  from  the  sad  version  of  ourselves  that  lives  in  that  bloodless   village.  Don’t  become  nothing,  the  singular  point  defined  by  an  absence,  become   everything,  with  everyone  else.  Drown  the  system  in  data  and  make  a  new  world   in  the  ruins  that  remain!           Los  Angeles,  2010