You know those apocalyptic strategy games, where a huge catastrophe strikes Earth? And everything is dark and sad, you don’t have any resources left and you gotta make it by yourself? Well, let’s imagine that for a second. But instead of all the Earth being hit, let’s pretend that only two major things are hit: Twitter and Facebook. Lets try to imagine our life after the sad end of Twitter and Facebook.
- Instead of being happy when somebody is following you all of a sudden, you just start asking yourself “why”. Especially when the following is taking place on a dark alley.
- When you really like something, you just smile. You don’t look desperately for the “like” button.
- When you meet someone new you don’t get automatically in your mailbox a letter promoting his latest hugely discounted ebook.
- You finally start noticing that trees are actually growing around you, not inside computers, when you press that tiny button called “Farmville”.
- If a guy promises to retweet you if you do the same for him, you suddenly decide to cross to the other side of the street. From where you can safely shout at him: “You dirty pervert!”.
- When they’ll want to stalk each other, people will revert to the old fashion way of using private investigators.
- Some of the unadapted will start talking out of the blue in short, witty and somehow cryptic sentences, not longer than 140 chars. They will be called “Tourettes” and usually avoided at parties. When they’re not the party attraction, of course.
- Historians will be puzzled by the unexplainable extinction of an entire species, called “social media expert”. Much like the dinosaurs. No living proof of that species will ever be found again.
- If friends will want to send you photos from the last barbecue, they’ll send you photos from the last barbecue. They won’t tag you, that is.
- Poking someone you barely know will usually trigger a lawsuit.
Many years after the complete extinction of Twitter and Facebook, a brilliant (yet strangely unadapted) student, dumped by his girlfriend, will want to show to the whole world that he’s not as bad as he looks. Of course, he writes a web app for that. The app eventually explodes into an incredibly popular site. Student becomes billionaire. Hundreds of millions are using the site. In an old, dusty chronicle, a historian finds out that it was a prophecy about that web site. Many years before, an entire civilization, in a desperate act of survival, left a cryptic message. Within weeks of hard work and thousands of super computers involved, the message is finally decrypted: “Social media is not dead, you idiots. And it’ll never be”.
Of course, a small faction of historians will give a completely different interpretation to the message, claiming that the first ones used the wrong decryption mechanism. For them, the message will look like: “A venti latte, please. With sugar on top and lots of cream. Presto!”.