write a paragraph on Facebook Is reel or real
Answers
According to me Facebook is reel.
Answer:
If we talk about facebook reel and real problems the following are they:
Your Facebook profile is meant to represent the “real-life you” as much as possible. Everything, from the types of information Facebook encourages you to furnish about yourself (political affiliations, religious views, etc.) to the focus on presenting your life as a timeline, confirms this. Successfully integrating yourself into the Facebook world, then, relies on you being willing (or able) to provide a clear answer to the question, “Who are you?” And therein lies the rub. Speaking for myself, the only thing that’s static about me is my constant state of change. It ripples through the many sides of my identity. Or, as danah boyd named it in her eye-opening master’s thesis, Faceted Id/Entity: Managing Representation in a Digital World: my multifaceted self. My multifaceted self is what makes me feel like I’m two or three, hell, several different people. Because we all are. We all have the ability to present different facets of ourselves depending on the context: a phenomenon known as code switching.All of us code switch all the time—often without conscious effort; sometimes, unfortunately, out of necessity. It’s essential not only to interacting with people we’re just meeting, but with those whom we know, too: our family, colleagues, and friends. For most of us, our Facebook “friends” aren’t people we’re just meeting for the first time, they’re people we’ve built some sort of relationship context with in the real world. A colleague from my last job, my brother, the couple down the street, a cousin I last saw ten years ago, that girl I met while traveling through Italy, an ex-girlfriend: these and countless more are the contexts we share with our Facebook friends. In the real world, we would depend on code switching to interact with these individuals. In boyd’s words, “By understanding the context of the environment, people know which aspects of their social identity to perform.” For instance, in real life I wouldn’t flash just any of my friends with a video of my dog licking coconut butter off silverware set to Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get it On” without first assessing the context I share with them: their sense of humor, current mood, squeamishness about animals, the nature of our relationship, and myriads of other things. On Facebook you can kiss such nuanced interaction goodbye. Our broadcasts go out to everyone irrespective of context. The early premise for Facebook was a great idea—a great design, speaking of design in the broadest sense. But great design can often be the silent killer, as Bill Buxton writes: “Great design takes hold, gets traction, and takes on its own inertia—which makes it hard to replace. And replace it we must: Everything reaches its past-due date.” Facebook’s design—really, the design of public and semi-private virtual interaction spaces on the web—is starting to feel like it’s reached its past-due date. And replacing it is going to take much more than flat UI, faster notifications, better animations, responsiveness, bigger and higher density screens, better web standards, native apps, and thousands of other things that we’ve already written about. It’s going to require us to approach a far more elusive problem, and one that’s at the center of design: understanding humans better.