Episode 29: "Fakebook" Masquerade Ball - A Night in Venice! 🎭

Happy Purim, Tinderland!

At the time, I posted a chapter here about Purim and masks on Facebook, and about the impostors who came to the blog like a band of drones. I thought it was a passing phenomenon, but today I discover that my airspace is more crowded than ever.

For a refresher for those who want to and haven't read:

So congratulations to me! In the twilight of my digital days, I've added 400 new friends. 400! At least that's what Facebook claims. But when you look closely, you discover that a large portion of them (not all of them, God forbid, but a significant portion) wear masks all year round. And not the high-quality kind from Venice, but masks with strange names and profiles that are a masterpiece of trolling.

The problem is that it's too easy to dismiss it as "bots." But the truth is much funnier: These are real people. Flesh and blood. Sitting in front of a screen, taking on a character and enjoying the absolute freedom to lie and impersonate. This frees them to write whatever they want, without inhibitions. Under the guise of the pseudonym, "David from Shawarma" becomes a mysterious warrior, and they simply enjoy the game.

In our reality, when the word "drone" makes us jump to our knees and the tension with Iran turns every buzzing sound into a nuisance, this swarm of drones on the blog makes me activate my own "Iron Dome".

There are some among them that I want to intercept the moment they land. The ones who spout generic clichés or try to sell me fake dreams. But there's another part, a part that I already really like and am intrigued by. These are the "invested" impostors, the ones who have built a character so far-fetched that it's already becoming an art. I find myself following their dialogues, trying to understand what motivates a person to become a "Knight of the Flame" or a "Storm Spirit."

Let's get to know some of the guests:

"Sir Eldric the Flamekeeper." Oh, that's a figure. He didn't actually ride a horse; he probably rode a scooter to the grocery store, but he's so confident in his role that it's captivating.

"Wanderer in the Wind." Oh my. I didn't make it up. I swear. He's hiding behind a deep landscape painting. Maybe he's really a wanderer? Maybe he's just stuck in traffic in Tel Aviv and dreaming of freedom? I'm already starting to like his mystery.

It's funny, it's crazy, and it's mostly one big ball where I'm the hostess.

Here are some "types" of drones that have invaded the blog:

The "Dragons and Dungeons" Regiment

These are names that sound like they just returned from raiding a castle, but somehow landed in your comments:

For example, "Thorn Nightshade": the name of a forest elf, right? Or "Gandalf the Sweaty": the one who came with life's wisdom in a shekel and a profile picture of a blurry mountain landscape.

Then comes the "Look How Intriguing I Am" unit:

These are the men who think a mysterious name will make you fall out of your chair. Meet "Wanderer in the Wind." A profile picture of someone's back looking out to sea. He doesn't write where he's from, he just says "Wanderer." Or "Truth Without Borders." This is a guy with a name like a philosophical page, but inside there are only three pictures of fake luxury watches. Wow, here comes "Fleeing Shadow" because calling yourself "Moshe Cohen" is just not sexy enough. And here's the dreamy "Horse Whisperer." The one who exudes deep calm, but his entire response is a rose emoji repeated 20 times until the rose bends over.

And we will not ignore the "mistakenly mentioned".

"Jack the Brave Warrior." A picture of a US Marine who surprisingly shows a great interest in gossip about dating in Tel Aviv. Or "Doctor Chris ICU." He's special. Always doctors, always on a humanitarian mission, and always looking like they need urgent help formulating sentences in Hebrew.

Let's go back to the masquerade ball in Tinderland: who was invited and who barged in? Scanning the area.

Other types that have undergone selection:

"The Fifth Element": The one who calls himself 'Free Spirit 77'. His profile picture is of an eagle soaring over a canyon in Arizona. He doesn't speak, he just sends a praying hands emoji on every post where I write how tired I am of the lies on the internet. Irony at its best.

"The Philosopher from the Cave": His name is 'Primeval Light.' He posts about the Paleo diet and how much technology is destroying us. He's about as "intriguing" as a washing machine's operating instructions.

"The General in Love": A Facebook classic. 'Colonel Steve Jones'. He's on a secret mission in Afghanistan, but he has time to like my every complaint, no matter what. He's the heaviest "CEO" in the group.

So what have I learned in the twilight of my digital days? That the more real you try to be, the more masks Facebook sends you. It's funny, it's delusional, and it's mostly just an imaginary ball.

.

And what's even more amazing? Their liberation. When they're under the mask, they don't have to be polite, logical, or real. They can write lines that would make soap opera writers blush.

The green Tinderland Park was filled with a traveling circus of shekel fantasies. The human drones landed.

It may be delusional, and it's certainly tiring, but at least in this war the only downfalls are in the intellectual level of the responses. So instead of intercepting them, I just smile. If they've already invaded the airspace of "Tinderland", at least let them have a little laugh before they run out of batteries or fuel, I'll behead them.

Happy Masquerade, Facebook! Let's have some fun together at the party. 🎭🚫🚀

And be careful to evacuate to a protected area. There is an alarm now!!

Episode 29: "Fakebook" Masquerade Ball - A Night in Venice! 🎭