Facebook hacked, IG spoofed
And some philosophical ponderings
Hey everyone, I’m about to publish my next essay. You’ll see it in a day or two. I got delayed dealing with a hack of my Facebook account. The hacker locked me out and started spamming out ads paid for by my financial accounts linked to Facebook. If you receive anything from me via Facebook, it isn’t me. If you receive DMs from me on FB, do not open the links. Also, someone impersonating me is spamming people on Instagram. I have been unable to get a response from FB or IG customer service. I have tried to recover my account by uploading my ID to no avail. On the grand scale of the human drama, this is not a big deal. No need to get indignant on my behalf. However, I thought I should let you know in case you receive something from “me” on those platforms. When I restore ownership I’ll make it clear that I am me.
Yeah this has given me a fun opportunity to meditate on such questions as, “Am I impersonating myself?” “What part of me hijacks my true identity for dishonest ends?” “In what ways do I merely pretend to be me?”
When things like this happen, lots of us ask what we are being shown symbolically, in the mutual mirroriing of inner and outer. It’s always worth some reflection. On the other hand, I am wary of tidy explanations. What I’m being shown could be any number of things, or it could be nothing at all. Best not to get too hung up on “What is this showing me about myself.”
I recently saw a meme on a conspiracy channel that said something like, “Everything, I mean everything, is happening for a reason, as part of the global control agenda.” I think it was in the context of the Uvalde school shooting. This is one of the conceits of the modern mind: that everything is amenable to our understanding, can be put into acceptable categories of reason, can fit into something we would recognize as a plan. This conceit sponsors the ambition to dometicate all material reality—to subsume it within our own plan. There is a certain perverse comfott in believing that every senseless tragedy and random act of violence is in fact part of a diabolical plan. Because then, in theory, we could eliminate all such tragedies. The alternative is to step into the mystery, and to get comfortable with the truth that we will never subordinate all of creation to our understanding and control.
A more dilute version of the same mentality informs the rush to enlist each tragedy in a political narrative, reducing it to “It is because of this,” “It is because of that.” Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But I think it is healthier to abide for a while in the shock and grief of it, before jumping into political narratives.
The same perverse comfort applies to the idea that every misfortune in our own lives can be explained by some flaw in our psychology, some negative belief, or some unkind act. Then, we could get life fully under control as well through a campaign of self-perfection. But that comfort turns quickly into anxiety, as the campaign never seems to come anywhere near its goal. Maybe here too it is better to accept the mystery. We can still ask why—Why is this happening to me?—as long we accept that there may well be no answer, now or ever, to that question.