If I were to stop read­ing them alto­gether, I’d have saved myself a lot of trou­ble. Cumu­la­tively, by open­ing them, I’ve sen­tenced myself to about sev­enty years of ill luck in love, life, and so forth. Mind you, the pre­scribed pun­ish­ments for not for­ward­ing the inanity tend on the side of inanity them­selves: per­haps all I have really sen­tenced myself to is bore­dom — it’s hardly ill luck if noth­ing hap­pens at all.

Still, the fires of bul­letins, fuelled teen angst, sweep onwards (over the bar­ren plane?) …

Please tell me why these things (Soc­Nets) are at all compelling?