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On Oct 17, 2009 at 11.49 am, 19-year-old Rodney Bradford asked where his pancakes were. At that very moment 24 kilometres away, a robbery was in progress, a robbery that witnesses said Bradford committed.Yet for all the damning evidence, that man who looked remarkably similar to Rodney, wasn't him. Rodney was in his father's apartment in Harlem on Facebook, writing a status update, "Where my IHOP (International House of Pancakes), yo?"
However insipid and lame this update was, it saved Rodney jail time as police proved through an IP search in cooperation with Facebook that Rodney was, indeed, at home.
Just yesterday, in Bromont, Quebec, Nathalie Blanchard found herself under similar scrutiny. This time around, Facebook did not play exonerating saviour. Nathalie was supposed to be on long-term sick leave and medical benefits for depression from IBM. However, Facebook photo albums proved otherwise.
She was "tagged" at Chippendales, enjoying her birthday party and on a sun holiday. Although Manulife wouldn't comment on the Blanchard case, Nathalie's benefits have since been terminated.
The Internet and all its ubiquitous social media marvels like Friendster, MySpace and Facebook have become so intimately entwined in our lives that authorities and higher management alike have begun to use trawled "evidence" from these once-considered parasitical outlets.
My issue isn't that the Internet is being used increasingly as a character reference on us, but rather, as we head into a dystopian Minority Report kind of future, should we not, as intelligent beings exercise more caution on our vanity?
Vanity indeed. All your status updates are simply based on a premise that somewhere among your 500 friends, someone gives a damn. When you post pictures, it provides proof that you were indeed at Club Ibizia last night.
As bosses and seniors start to get on the social media bandwagon, it's perhaps time to start thinking a little more before you post your masturbatory updates, especially when last night you promised the boss you'd be working on the $2 million dollar project rather than partying at Club Ibizia. I for one, would be a little more careful on informing my friends I just killed Gildamesh the Orc King on Castle Age. - JH
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