Monday, October 26, 2009

Facebook Help = Welcome to Hell

So, I've been locked out of Facebook for a day now. No access to my account, friends, etc. I have no idea what's going on. Every time I enter my password, I get a "site maintenance" notification. Really? Facebook maintains their site? Really...? Really...? It runs like shit and every time they make an 'improvement' the site runs even slower than before. I should note that all these 'improvements' are without any notification that they've made said improvement, you have to muddle through and figure out what they've done.

I've had issues with these fuckers before, and it usually clears up in an hour or two, so I've learned to have some patience, even if these issues come at the most inopportune time. Yesterday, while unable to access Facebook, I was able to access Farmville (yeah, I know... but I feel very Karen Blixen: "I had a farm in Africa. I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills."). I harvested, played with the ducks (I love those ducks!), and then managed to 'back door' my way into Facebook, which was running like shit. Why? Because they'd just done an update that isn't just pointless, it's counter productive. But that's Facebook--if it ain't broke, it soon will be!

Today, I can't get in online, through Farmville or through my iPhone. Each attempt is met with a "site maintenance" notification and a request to "try again in a few hours". A few hours?! Really? No notification that there are issues, just a half-assed pop up when trying to get in. It might have worked better to have Bill Lumbergh appear with his cup of coffee saying, "Oh yeah... that. Yeah... we've been having problems with that, so you might want to come back later..."

Deciding that something needed to be done, I shouted, "Something needs to be done!" and proceeded to the Facebook "Help" Page to find the answer. What I quickly discovered was that most Facebook users have to be idiots. The FAQ page consisted of questions like "I want to change my password." Seriously, you need help for that? Looking around is too taxing, eh? Whatever...

I scanned the Login issues page and not finding anything relevant, I clicked on the Login and Password issues page--I look through the list. My issue is there, but it doesn't answer any questions. Basically, Bill is back saying, "Oooh... yeah... not gonna happen." When I click on the 'My bug is not listed here button,' it takes me back to the beginning. No other options available, and no option to get assistance. Basically, my account is dead and there's not a damn thing I can do about it... and Facebook certainly isn't going to waste their valuable time working on it.

So, the question is, do I start a new account and waste more time? Or should I wait and let Facebook's incompetence catch up with them and let them be bypassed by 'the next big thing' like My Space before it?

I'll miss talking to all my friends... but I'm really going to miss those ducks...

Friday, October 09, 2009

In Defense of Roman Polanski

Roman Polanski is world renown director responsible for such classics as Rosemary’s Baby, Chinatown and The Pianist. He also raped a 13 year-old girl by getting her drunk and sodomizing her.

His talent is unquestionable. Actors, directors, writers from around the world have praised his amazing body of work. He’s been nominated for four Academy Awards, winning for Best Director in 2003. He also raped a 13 year-old girl by getting her drunk and sodomizing her.

Polanski’s victim has since forgiven him for getting her drunk and then raping and sodomizing her. She has moved on with her life. Good for her. She is not going to let one horrible incident define her life and is moving forward. As for Polanski, he’s not been able to move on from this incident, because when he was a 44 year-old man, he raped a child, by getting her drunk and then raping and sodomizing her. Poor Roman has lived a life of luxury overseas without ever facing justice for his crimes, while the young girl had to piece together her life on her own.

I should probably re-title this post, but fuck it—if Polanski can call himself an artist and not a rapist, I can call this piece anything I want.
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