Any angle works nowadays

. So FakeBoob shows me this and asks, “Left or right?”

Which I thought was interesting, because it turns out the correct answer is: *click* YES!

Any angle works nowadays. As long as it’s shallow.

I guess that’s progress.

We used to ask people what they thought.

Now we just rotate them a little.

So after that little moment of progress, I figured I’d mention something else.

I once made a FB page called The Nice News.

A long time ago. Back when that sentence didn’t already sound like a joke.

The idea was simple. Maybe naive. I’d collect things that had some weight to them. Thoughtful posts. Meaningful observations. Stuff that suggested there were still people on the internet who had inner lives and weren’t just auditioning for attention like it was a paid internship.

A sorry attempt, sure. But an honest one.

And FB was fine with that. For years.

Quietly letting it exist. Like a potted plant in the corner of a casino.

Then today FB pops up with a little notification.

Very friendly. Very helpful.

“Your page has new posts from others to check out.”

Which is interesting, because my first reaction wasn’t curiosity.

It was more… concern.

So I click it. And FB shows me… that.

And I’m sitting there thinking,

“Wow. This is what you think I’ve been missing?”

Not a post. Not an idea. Not even an opinion I disagree with.

Just a body, rotated slightly, asking me to participate in a very important democratic process called Left or Right.

Then I realize something.

FB didn’t lose its way.

It found it.

Because once you start paying attention, this isn’t an exception.

This is the feed.

You open FB hoping to see something from your friends.

People you actually know. People you’ve spoken to in real life.

And FB says,

“No no, not them.”

Instead, you get:

People you may know.

Which is fascinating, because I already know the people I know. That’s sort of the whole system.

Groups you should join.

As if curiosity itself has been outsourced.

Like I’m standing in a bookstore and an algorithm taps me on the shoulder and says,

“No. Not that one. You’re more of a macaroni-and-cheese person.”

Then come the reels.

Endless reels.

Mostly created by AI, starring people who look like people, doing things no human has ever genuinely wanted to do. Smiling like they were trained by someone who learned emotions from stock photos.

Then suggested pages.

Suggested based on what, exactly?

My browsing history? My soul?

A random number generator powered by cheese?

And finally, when you think you’ve reached the bottom, FB delivers the punchline with a straight face:

“Here. Follow these fake boobs.”

For real.

Not metaphorical ones.

Not political ones.

Actual, glossy, algorithm-approved pimped tits.

And that’s when it hits you.

This isn’t a platform anymore.

It’s a conveyor belt.

Real content still exists, somewhere.

But it’s been buried under so many layers of suggestions, nudges, prompts, and “you might like this”s that finding it feels less like browsing and more like archaeology.

You don’t scroll anymore.

You excavate.

And the cruel joke is that none of this is hidden.

It’s all right there.

Perfectly visible.

Loud.

Shiny.

Shallow.

Any angle works nowadays.

As long as it’s shallow.

We used to ask people what they thought.

Then we stopped asking.

Then we stopped listening.

Now we just rotate them a little…

and see if they still perform.

And the really strange part?

A week from now, someone will read this, nod slowly, and think,

“Yeah… something is off.”

They won’t know exactly when it happened.

They won’t be angry.

They’ll just feel tired.

Which, I guess, is progress too.