Facebook is enough to have experienced without going totally mad. It feels like being in a huge mansion, with a thousand rooms and inside every room are books and paintings and artists and extraordinary people and knowledge and conversations and love and humanity and interesting work and children playing, the theare of life, but in a recurring nightmare you are forced, in a kind of Satrian hell, to open each of the thousand doors only one inch, glance in with one eye against the crack, make some weird little jargon statement, chuckle inanely and move onto the next door, until you’ve done all thousand doors. But you never ever go inside any of them. All you do is go around 1000 rooms in the next mansion and then the next and so on for the rest of your life, for ever and ever. All you are left with is the empty brag that you have been in x mansions and each of them had a thousand rooms.