Petri frets that -
I am a citizen of the world's third most populous country - closing in on 700 million, to be exact. We have our own language (English/Pirate English), our own currency (Likes), and our own flag.Get back to me, Alexandra, when the Republic of Stupid provides income support, raises taxes, has armed guards and attack dogs, and kills people who are trying to slip across the border. Facebook isn't Burma and it's lazy, tired journalism to use the online 'community' of the day is another country.
Every few years we threaten to leave. "I don't like the way things are going", we say. "Stop rearranging everything without telling or asking me."
But they stop us at the border, every time, holding all our loved ones hostage. "You want this memory, don't you?" they ask. "And this picture! And how will you 'Like' things when you leave?"
We shudder. And we stay. The country's name is Facebook. Its nationals? Friends. Citizenship in this country allows us to be at home anywhere in the world.
Petri explains that -
It's the one country where people actively try to keep their parents from immigrating after them. "Nonsense, mother", we insist. "You have everything you need where you are."Are the readers of the SMH a republic? The NYRB is a perpetual Scandinavia of the mind?
Once you are in, you are everyone's Friend. Since immigrating in high school, I've had no desire to leave. Why would I? Everything I need is here. My Friends. People I hardly know - also Friends.
This is not the way the country has always looked. The topography changes, swiftly, when you least expect it. Midway through the night, your rights are rearranged. Suddenly everyone and his internet-equipped dog can see everything you post - unless you dash off to change your settings. Facebook privacy? It's the new oxymoron, like jumbo shrimp.
The Republic of Stupid? It's the old meme ... just like vaudeville it's dead and smells that way.
