that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The pricks and pangs of outrageous privacy invasions,
Or to take notice of a wave of "friends"
And, by accepting, greet them. To fb, to share
No more – and by share to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That loneliness is heir to – ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To fb, to share
To greet, perchance to meet. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that meeting of strangers what ill may come,
When we have signed that mortal software license,
Must give us pause. There's the rape
Of data from so long a life.
For who would bear the delays and shortfalls of email,
Th’ bloggers errors, missing a friends invitation,
The crashing hard drive, the internet's delay,
The insolence of Microsoft, and the spurns
That patient merit of unread email takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a few key stokes? Who would packet errors bear,
To send and read in a bad web browser,
But that the dread of something after fb,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No data is erased, puzzles me lots
And makes me rather bear those ills we know
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus prudence doth make cowards of me at least,
And thus the native hue of signing up
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of restraining thought,
And interactions of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
Convince me I'm wrong, that fb is a boon unalloyed
And not a database of sins remembered.
With apologies to W Shakespeare
No fitness stuff so far, though I have ambitions about getting downstairs for some stretching and core work.