Restriction

 Facebook have put me on "Restriction". There's a warning on my page stating, "Your account is at risk". Blimey! I wondered what could have triggered that? I'd just reviewed the latest "Knives Out" film. But I liked it. Surely, that can't be it. I mentioned priest on priest violence. Was that it? 

But no, that wasn't it. I'd written a post where, whimsically, I wondered what the gravel-voiced blues groaner Tom Waits smelled like. Most people just said "cigarettes", which is probably true but boring. But one friend said, "Dolla Bills", to which I replied, quick as a flash, "Like c******e and bass player's bogies?", a reference to a touring band's enthusiasm for the late-night toilet-cubical stimulant. I thought nothing of it. That particular substance is ingrained in the weft of banknotes world wide, as well as drinking water, hair and nails, and fish. That's what I was alluding to. The way it's worn into the very fabric of society, into the bills in our pockets, our oddly gritty tap water. 

Facebook removed the comment. Pearls were clutched. 

They advised me they'd put me on "restriction". My account "is at risk". Because I'd used a well known pharmaceutical term in passing conversation. They were shocked. To be clear, I wasn't peddling the stuff. I wasn't asking for any. I wasn't evangelising for it. I'd mentioned it in passing in a not particularly good joke for the adults in the room. And it's a fact. A thing that exists. A noun. 

That wasn't good enough for Facebook, their prudish lips puckered like they'd just licked a block of alum. I appealed. They quashed my appeal without reason. I looked through my history of prior transgressions. There were none. This was the single thing I had done to offend the gods of meta, whom I'm certain have never even heard of this repulsive and illegal practice I did not endorse. 

I'm not sure what happens next. I guess they could arbitrarily cancel my account without reason. They could do that. They might. They could keep me in a restricted state forever. I can't make adverts or post my own videos. It's hardly a major problem for me but, I think, undeserved, draconian, and peculiarly random. Also tin-eared and utterly divorced from context of the original comment. Are there a list of other bad words I can't use too? Is there a list somewhere, where I could bone up on the verboten terms of Meta. The Facebook shit list? Shit, is shit on the shit list? Have I done it again? 

Because there's a lot of hate speech on Facebook. There are little groups of self-confessed patriots saying very bad things about people they don't know and using, ironically, colourful language. I'm sure invisible grooming goes on. And those vigilante gangs mobilising in little groups, tacking and targeting people, mobs mobilising, giving away addresses. There's a lot of drive by cruelty and ignorance on here. But that's all fine. 

Mentioning a word from the lyrics of a Cole Porter song from 90 years ago, or equally, the sight of a woman's nipple and it's straight to the sin bin. 

The appeal of Facebook gets more and more selective. It's run by bad people. It makes money in bad ways. It's increasingly less about people I know, my friends, and what they're saying, and more about selling me the shit their shambolic algorithms think I need. At the moment I'm seeing a lot of bad comedy reels and M&S underwear. It's women's underwear too, so it feels like entrapment. Nice try, Facebook. 

I keep thinking I need Facebook. It's the only place to advertise my wares: my books, the Stalemates nights, the films I show. But the pick-up on these is negligible. No one sees my posts and I don't see theirs. And with my new restrictions of, at this point, indeterminate length, I can't post adverts anyway. Though it remains to be seen what Facebook recognises as an advert. 

Maybe I don't need Facebook after all. I'll miss it. But it feels like a relationship where I'll always have memories of the early days but really, no really it's time to move on. 

Force my hand.