We own you.
You’d be nothing without us. But my friends and I have come down on the side that we’d rather have you despite our disagreement about how you handled the change to your terms of service.
In your defense, I understand that you needed to cover your ass. I must give you permission to publish and distribute content I added to Facebook; copyright laws are a fickle bitch.
But how hard is it for you to delete everything related to me from your app if I ask? I bet you left no traces of the Fake Prince of Morocco who landed on Facebook.
I deserve as much as the Prince if I ask to delete my own profile from Facebook; I am me, after all. And I own you, not the other way ’round.
And so I ask you to do two things.
First, notify me when you change your terms of service. Make me agree to the changes when I log in. Or email, IM, or message me. Poke me fer fuck’s sake. I’ll even accept carrier pigeon messages.
Second, give me the ability to backup and delete my Facebook profile. If I don’t like your changes, I want my info off your fuckin’ site forever, ASAP, at the push of a button. Ok, two buttons — don’t want to do that accidentally.
Do those two things, and I’ll give you permission to keep my information, likeness, and digital detritus "in perpetuity" yadda yadda yadda.
Don’t do those things, and you’ll set yourself up for the class action lawsuit of a lifetime. There’s even case law backing me up in your home jurisdiction of the Ninth Federal Court Circuit.
Oh, and if you’re thinking of one more change to make to your terms, bump up the maximum liability for damages from $100. I’ll take equity if you don’t have the cash.
After the privacy debacle (times two), the redesign debacle, and now this, you’ve revealed your fatal flaw — horrible communication. Only if you secretly replaced your PR and legal teams with a pet rock could you be capable of such mind-numbing communication incompetence.
Learn your fucking lesson.
me, part owner of Facebook