Facebook is a handy tool, but this apparent expression of favouritism towards a particular candidate or political party has put them over the line. I am going to give myself a few days to decide whether or not to close my account. I am leaning towards bagging it. Yes, FB will no doubt have unrestricted access to my Permanent Record, but at least Billary won't be reading my posts anymore.
My closest friends have my email address; others can PM me theirs while my account is still active, and I will add them to my email address book and return the favour. We can stay in touch that way.
The media are in a titanic struggle to remain in control of the American mind. They are sacrificing everything - credulity, credibility, honesty, decency, dispassionate discourse, competence - to cling to a power they have enjoyed since FDR's times.
It appears the social media is following suit.
Mainstream media can't even compound interest rates. Ask a reporter what the Rule of 78s is.
They don't understand our tax laws, the laws of physics, the multiplication and/or division of percentages, or even basic arithmetic.
Ever since Woodward and Bernstein they have enjoyed a celebrity status no more deserving than that of a Kardashian or Paris Hilton. The aspiring journalist cloyingly seeks this celebrity.
The bare-knuckled street-fighter who lives in a cold-water walk-up has replaced by a pampered, overpaid and sucked-up-to flock of unshaven sheep oblivious to the price of milk and hamburger.
Journalism and profession do not belong in the same sentence. Professionals are certain scientists, MD's, or even tugboat skippers. There are no entry credentials to become a journalist - save for looks and a lust for power.
(An old drinking buddy from the Seattle Times used to rant, "'Journalist' is just another word for an unemployed reporter!")
All this celebrity and grandiosity will be lost to them in the unlikely event that Billary loses her presidential bid, and they are fighting like rabid cobras to keep that from happening.
Sorry FB had to join in the fray. But at least, and for a little while longer, in America I can vote with my feet.
Selah.