He grew up during the beginning of Facebook addiction, when the Internet was had become just a little more than a distant dream in the eye of a scientist in a lab coat far, far away. The streets were his home, or so it seemed. He was always there, on the kerb, by the lamp. Selling sweets to other children who were his age. And during the hot season (well I say it was the hot season but in truth all seasons there were extremely hot) he would sell icicles, blocks of sugared ice, to people of all ages who came out of their yards. They would sit on their porches in the afternoons, especially the grandmothers and grandfathers, and especially at the weekends, sleeping, every now and then swatting a fly away, swinging in the arm chair. They all seemed older than they were, the people who lived on that street.
One day a car arrived with a mark that he immediately noticed. He had seen it before. It was not a police car, but it was of an official-looking colour. The colour of importance, the colour of government. Inside the car were two men with stern expressions. One was stout, with a dark complexion. The other was much thinner. Taller. They across the whole street, moving from house to house. They held pieces of paper and pens. They walked in a serious way, to accompany the seriousness of their expressions and the official grey of their car. He overheard his older cousin speaking of this new Facebook thing, and how the government was looking for information about Facebook addiction. These were curious times.
He asked what Facebook addiction was. He had not yet seen a computer. His cousin, older and wiser, or so he liked to think, said that it was a bit like alcohol. Except it made things appear on a screen like TV, and then people would stay all day sitting in front of the screen and drinking. So is it just beer, asked the little boy. No don't be silly says the cousin, it's not beer, it's more serious than that. It's like the time there was a robber and the police were chased him, door to door, in the neighbourhood. That's how serious it is. The police are here and they are coming back unless they find these Facebook addicts. They steal what everyone lacks, they take what's not theirs. The cousin said he'd heard they produced a thing called content. And it made others sit in front of their screen and it was very bad for them. They would also drink at the same time.
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