Dear Guy On Facebook,

Hey Guy On Facebook, how’s it going? I saw that you changed your profile picture recently, that’s pretty cool. I like how it’s a picture of one of your many hobbies that you constantly post on Facebook about. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “Oh boy, I didn’t know you looked at my Facebook posts! Gee golly!” Yes, gee golly indeed, Guy On Facebook, gee golly indeed. Look, I know it’s been a while since we talked, almost four years by my count, and you’re probably wondering why I took the time to pretend that I’m writing you letter while actually writing an article to be posted online and be read by literally tens of people. You’re also probably wondering why I am calling you “Guy On Facebook” rather than your real name. Well, the fact is that of the hordes of, I repeat, tens of people that read this article, I really hope that you are not one of them. Let me tell you why.

You are an asshole, Guy On Facebook, a true asshole. Now, I could end this letter right there, leave you begging for ice after that burn, but I think you deserve more of an explanation of your assholery. Let me begin by breaking down which of the many Facebook assholes you are.

You are not the Shakespearean asshole. You don’t post things like “I can’t believe your doing this to me right now!!!”. For that I am grateful. Those Shakespearean assholes are the girls I friended back in middle school whose faces I don’t even recognize anymore. This is someone I would see almost every day, and yet now their only relevance to my life is as another person out in the world who needs to learn the god damn difference between “your” and “you’re."

But beneath my righteous grammatical anger, there is a sadness that lingers when I see these Shakespearean assholes on Facebook. Their lives are a grand drama that I can only access through their posted selfies and vague non sequiturs; it is a reminder that sometimes even social media can’t mend the damaging effect distance and time have on relationships. But that isn’t their fault. No matter how annoying and melodramatic the Shakespearean asshole may be, they’re just living their life, and I’m only glancing at whatever bread crumbs they end up publishing.

Another asshole that you are not, Guy On Facebook, is the friendly asshole. I can tell that you are not one of these guys because I actually like these assholes. The friendly assholes are the people who still want to be part of your life, and find that the only way they can do that is through Facebook.

They’re the ones who, rather than communicating directly, hijack your posts with intrusive comments. Friendly assholes are people that you were really close to at some point in your life, and maybe still are, but that you don’t see often enough to have a relationship beyond online communication. The thing is, even though friendly assholes can be annoying and unwelcome, they aren’t being purposefully asshole-ish. In fact, it’s usually the opposite. When facing a friendly asshole on Facebook, it is important to realize that what might be perceived as an annoying interruption of your normal Facebook activities is their attempt at interacting with you. Dealing with a Facebook asshole is like dealing with a little sibling: sure, they may be annoying, but they just want to be included in your life. I think this is a way that social media really reaches its full potential, because it is giving us new methods of holding onto one another and ensuring that we can maintain contact. The friendly asshole is a reminder of that.

You my friend, Guy On Facebook, are the worst kind of asshole. You take the worst aspects of the other assholes, their vague neediness and their tendency for disruption, and you top it off with your unbelievable pretention and self-righteousness. I cannot count the number of times that I have seen you share a news article on Facebook with your personal rant plastered underneath, often twice as long as the original article. I cannot count the number of times that I have seen you express the wish to harm people, the number of murders you claim you would have committed if you “were there."

I cannot count the number of times that you have shown gratitude and celebration about war crimes, about racial conflicts, about the murders of children. Every day you post a new story about racial equality or gay rights, and I see you pompously argue against them in the most eloquent terms. But despite the fact that I could respond just as intelligently, calling you on your prejudice, I won’t. I won’t say anything because I’ve seen what you do to people who argue with you on Facebook. I’ve seen you respond to your own uncle’s comment on your post with a full essay stating that anyone with an opposing opinion should be killed for the good of our country. I’ve seen the jokes that people comment on your rants, hoping that you’re joking, and I’ve seen you crush them, your friends, fiercely.

Guy On Facebook, I understand that we have different values. That’s fine. I wouldn’t write this letter to you over a simple ideological disagreement. It’s good to believe in your opinions, it’s even good to defend them against others. Go you. But the fact is that you are the kind of asshole that thinks their opinion makes them superior. You treat Facebook, like your personal soapbox. Not only that, but you insist on standing on that soapbox and throwing your own shit at your friends and loved ones.

You’re the worst, Guy On Facebook. You are a reminder of the worst of humanity that has used the internet as an endless form of self-publication. You represent the proportion of the world that will always yell defiance in the face of freedom, the ones that boast power behind the safety of artificially lit screens. And that’s why we’re friends, Guy On Facebook. Facebook friends, at least. I keep you around as a personal reminder of how many assholes I’m going to have to deal with in my life. I’m just grateful that I only have to be around you on the internet.

Love,

A Guy On Facebook