I used to look forward to all the new posts on my FB timeline, couldn't even keep up with them all, and good, bad, funny, sad, true or not, I got what I wanted from it, learned a lot, laughed a lot and gave back what I thought it deserved. Now when I open my feed it's like walking into the dusty lot of an abandoned drive-in. There are the stumps of speaker posts everywhere, but their voices have all been silenced, the enormous screen still competes with the sky, but the pictures have been taken down. The occasional popcorn bucket or foil dog wrapper caught in the fence line, like left over party favours, are the only reminder that the place might once have attracted people in numbers. Corporate betrayal is old hat, but this suicide by hysterectomy is sure something new.
