Blackmail Yourself (or let us do it for you)

I saw on MediaBistro yesterday that a new free service called Aherk is offering to blackmail you into finishing your novel, or painting your dining room, or whatever. All you do is state your goal and its deadline and send them a compromising picture of yourself. If your Facebook friends (you see, Facebook has to be involved here) all agree that you have achieved your goal by the deadline, then Aherk won't post the picture on Facebook. Otherwise your reputation is toast.

The concept raises a few questions.

First: Free? What are you getting out of it, Aherk? Oh, yes, my blackmail pictures. After I achieve my goal, perhaps I'll get monthly emails from you demanding fifty dollars.

Second: What sort of pictures do we consider compromising in 2012? In my case, something would have to be Photoshopped. Me wearing Republican campaign materials on my head. Me in bed with the paperboy. (Actually we have no paperboy.) Me using the wrong fork. In point of fact, I haven't done anything in years that couldn't be shown on Facebook with perfect aplomb. At least, I don't think I have. It's true that my memory isn't what it was.

Third: What happens if your Facebook friends all want to see your embarrassing picture so badly that they are willing to lie to Aherk about your achievements? We all know about Facebook friends. Some of them are actual friends, but some of them are just these people who once asked you to friend them, and when you couldn't remember whether you'd ever met them or who they were you said, fine, we're friends. Maybe yes, maybe no.

And finally: What sort of moron gives blackmail pictures to perfect strangers? What sort of society are we living in where people would even expect each other to do that? Who are all these vultures hanging around waiting for me to embarrass myself? Why is the twenty-first century such a total cesspit? (snort… drool…)

They're After Us Again

I see by all the uproar that the masters of Facebook are messing with us again, tweaking the format, proposing to collect all sorts of new kinds of personal information about us that we may let slip in the course of our social interactions. There's an old New England saying regarding this: Two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead. Since Facebook is not expecting to turn up its toes anytime soon I suggest another slogan: Mum's the word.

We – that is, my friends and I – are on Facebook for two reasons, chiefly: to share family pictures and stories, and to connect with people who might do our writing (or other) careers some good. Many people in this latter category are actual friends, that is, people we like, people we help when we have the chance. Facebook is a handy way to keep abreast of things with all these folks, easier than email or checking blogs and web pages, way easier than snail mail. But make no mistake: We are being watched. Statistics and personal information are being gathered and – what's that word they like? – monetized.

Monetized. They're turning you into money, friends. No longer is our greatest fear the terror of having our employers see those frat party pictures where we got hammered and took off our Abercrombie and Fitches. Now they're – What? I don't even know! That's the horror of it! But the bottom line is that somebody is going to make money off our stupidity, and it won't be us. Never mind learning the clever fixes your friends are forwarding to you to keep your Facebook posts private. Next week all that will change anyway. Just remember two things:

If you don't want to see it on the front page of the weekly tabloid, don't post it online.

If your thoughts are worth actual money, you probably want to save them, copyright them and sell them your own self.