I agree. I've experienced a wide range of reactions to Facebook. In the early days, when the info on your profile was the killer app, I closely curated mine a

I agree. I've experienced a wide range of reactions to Facebook. In the early days, when the info on your profile was the killer app, I closely curated mine as though it were my online representation of myself. When my college girlfriend broke up with me, it became a tool of obsession to desperately try to understand why it happened. Then I forced myself not to check her profile for almost a year, and it was a representation of my willpower and reconstructed self-esteem. When Facebook made all of your profile entries into linkable graph objects, among other changes that destroyed privacy, I rebelled and shut down my Facebook account. After leaving grad school, I eventually reactivated, because I realized that when I wanted to visit people, Facebook was by far the easiest way to get in touch. Nowadays, I have built a really strong circle of people I know from real life but keep in touch mostly on Facebook, and I can honestly say that it's been an intellectual revolution for me. I exchange ideas with people and have debates that I rarely have in person. It's absolutely broadened my horizons. It's made me a much better writer, debater, and communicator. Obviously, Facebook is what you make of it. Sure, you have to navigate the minefield of what Zuckerberg wants it to be, but for me, it's become indispensable as communication tool, and I pity people who let it be a source of negativity to them instead of taking the positive aspects of it for what it's worth. It's just a tool.