Here’s an interesting piece from the Atlantic centering around my Facebook derision obsession, yet this piece offers something a bit more than the usual type of Facebook voyeurism.
A Death on Facebook
Intimacy and loss in the age of social mediaBy KATE BOLICK
Marcos Chin
I MET “S” SEVERAL years ago, when she was hired by the magazine where I worked as an editor. She was an assistant in a different department, so we had very little day-to-day contact. I somehow learned that she went to nightclubs a lot, and I once overheard her tell a colleague that she wanted to be the editor in chief of a magazine someday. It was a snippet that stayed with me, as her partying lifestyle seemed contrary to such a career goal, and for a while whenever I passed her desk I would worry over the incongruity. Eventually I found resolution in the idea of Bonnie Fuller, doyenne of celebrity journalism. That’s what S meant, I decided: she would be an editor like Fuller, rather than someone bookish, like the legendarily reticent New Yorker editor William Shawn. She even had a haircut like Fuller’s.