The Ruby Rose Report: Ruby Goes to War Against Facebook.

 

The next day I got an email from Facebook that they removed the post because it was an attempt by me to link something to try and get links.
Well, duh!

I appealed the decision te

lling them I wrote the blog and my friends liked reading it.
It was immediately denied.

The only way to get my appeal heard was to go to the Facebook offices.
Foley had left direction on how to go anywhere in the world. All I had to was follow her detailed input directions for the computer, then hop on the keyboard, and I would be uploaded to wherever I chose to go.

It seemed too perilous.

But this was my blog.

That night I made my move. I put in the code, jumped on the keyboard, and was lifted to Facebook's office located in a dark tower where outside it only rained.
I hopped off one of the many computers. At first, I thought it was empty, but then I realized they were all manned by thin almost translucent minions all furiously writing code.

I slipped out of the room, past an empty Mr. Pub can, and crushed Doritos bags.
I went down a darkened hallway, past rooms overflowing with Spam, pokes, and men with European names consisting of all known vowels, who are commissioned officers of the US Air Force and all want to be your friend.

At the very top, I found Zuckergburg's lair. He was sitting on a throne made of cables, jacks, and fiber optics. I asked him why he had removed my blog and he began to speak of community standards and algorithms. That is when I saw movement behind a curtain.

"Pay no attention," Zuckerberg wanted, but I have always had a cat's curiosity. I pulled open the curtain and found a giant weasel pounding away at the computer. He was the Weasel of Oz and controlled all the Facebook accounts in the world.

"I heard your request," he pled. "It's been denied. We don't want your happy little dog stories on our site. We want ranting political statements, not please to save dogs in a shelter, we want pictures of bad food, not family photos. Most of all we want you angry, and chaotic, so we can control you and spread unrest." Then he told me they could not let me go.

I ran until I saw an open computer and was able to upload myself back home.
And now I am free to spread the word.

The Facebook weasels are trying to destroy us all.

I always thought it was obvious.