To #DeleteFacebook, or not to #DeleteFacebook: that is the question.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous targeted ads,
Or to take arms against a sea of trolls,
And by deleting end them? To logout: to delete;
No more; and by delete to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That Facebook is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To logout, to delete;
To delete: perchance to Google: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that algorithm of Google what targeted ads may come
When we have shuffled off this social media platform,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of online life;
For who would bear the popups and surveys of bots,
The bandwagoneer’s wrong, the propagandist’s contumely,
The pangs of despised hate speech, the moderator’s delay,
The insolence of spambots and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When she herself might her quietus make
With a bare search engine? who would narcissism bear,
To click and scroll under weary online life,
But that the dread of something after deletion,
The undiscover’d webspace from whose bourn
No deleted user returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus Facebook does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of Instagram
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of Twitter,
And hashtags of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The homely Zuckerberg! Trickster, in thy website
Be all my sins remember’d.

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