So, in the spirit of admitting when you've been beat, I've rejoined Facebook.
I am not proud of this decision. Nor am I ashamed. I am, however, beaten. I concede. Facebook has a won the battle for control of my social communications. When I announced my write-in candidacy for social networking with a conscience, many of my friends told me they understood and wished me well. I told people I would keep in touch with other mechanisms, and despite my earnest belief that I would do that, the closest I came was in using Twitter more regularly. I did not pick up the phone more often. I did not email people I didn't see. I just sorta dropped off the face of social communications.
I lost.
So now comes the part where I wax wearily about waning wants. As much as I thought I could make a reasonable go of it, my opponent outspent me and had the more resonant message. I stood on the outside and planted my banner, hoping the as-yet-still-inactive Diaspora or someone else (GoogleMe, are you out there?) would come to my rescue. I waited as my supplies dwindled, and everyone else in the walled garden continued on, sharing updates and photos. I didn't see a picture of my classmate's new baby. I missed invitations to events. The cost of being on the outside simply outweigh the cost of living in walled garden.
Facebook doesn't seem to mind that I've been gone, however. It let me reload my contacts, re-up my Scrabble game, and repost some pictures. I'm back in, as if I never left. I'd like to promise to fully support my opponent, but really, if the time comes when there is a real working alternative, I'll be jumping at the chance. Until then, let me congratulate the winner. You've built a darn good mousetrap, and I guess I really need one.
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