Nicole Manktelow

I just joined the ‘Ferris Bueller Appreciation Society’. No meetings, newsletters, fan fiction, or get-togethers with other 80s nerds. To ‘Save Ferris’ was as simple as a click.

In fact, joining almost any group on Facebook – no matter how seemingly obscure, narrow or specific - is usually just a click away.

I also joined the ‘People Who Always Have To Spell Their Names For Other People’ group (just perfect for an M-A-N-K-T-for-Tom-E-L-O-W). It’s a surprisingly popular group, with 163,000 members.

Then there’s the ‘If This Group Reaches 150,000 Members I Will Name My Son Batman’ group. Poor kid. There are only 62,000, so far, but Dad’s probably gonna make it. Bam. Kapow!

What actually happens in most of these groups? I have no idea. But I know joining will add these names to the growing list on my profile page and enhance my increasingly inflated online ego.

Just a few days since signing up for Facebook I have 39 ‘friends’. I feel popular and validated in a new, quantifiable way. I poke them, but don’t have to have any conversation or ask how they are. And I still keep tabs on what they’re all up to, because each new friend they make, application they install, or group they join appears on my Facebook ‘news feed’.

Turns out they have rather interesting tastes. One joined ‘PK – More Juicy Than Fruit’, another joined ‘Judge Judy Is My Hero’ and a third stumbled into ‘The Drunken Text Appreciation Society’. Mobile phone in hand, no doubt.

Two friends joined the ‘I’m In Love With Mary Kostakidis’ group, one of seven separate SBS themed groups (others along the lines of Bring Back Mary, Save Mary and even a ‘Hail Mary’) in support of the newsreader.

Another two apparently joined the ‘Don’t Just Lie There Like A Starfish! You Live On Land, Not Water’ group, which supports the plight of those with disappointingly inactive bedmates.

Hmm, that’s rather more than I wanted to know, actually.

However, I remain convinced that others will be amazed and impressed by my groups and what they reveal about me. For example, that others can ‘Trust Me. I’m A Journalist’, or that ‘I Use My Cell Phone To See In The Dark’. Or, that I meet the minimum requirements to join the ‘I’ve been to Twin Peaks’ group because, well, I have been there in fact.

Ah, there’s damn fine coffee in North Bend, Washington USA! That’s where the David Lynch cult-TV show was filmed. I’ve already uploaded a photo of myself at the local diner, and tagged myself for good measure.

Suddenly I begin to see the deeper joy of Facebook – the activities beyond finding friends and gathering groups. There’s a quiet flurry of activity, with photo albums to make, videos to post, ‘gifts’ to send and free virtual drinks going around like a crazed, high-speed cocktail party.

Forget pokes, there are superpokes, virtual slaps, tickles and friendly punches. There are walls to write on, books and movies to list, likes and dislikes to compare, then polls, quizzes, questions and all sorts of quirky applications with magical time-absorbing qualities. I’m bitten by vampires, plagued by zombies and always wary of werewolves. I’m fighting in light sabre battles, attacked by Mr T (pity the fool) and repeatedly hit over the head by chickens…

Days pass.

The list of delightful distractions goes on and on until, suddenly, I spot a group that particularly resonates. A group for people just like me - ‘F-ck You Facebook, I Have Work To Do’.

It’s true. I do have work to do. I’ll get right on it, too… um, I just have this one last group to join first.

(Click).