Real or not real? Only the algorithm knows for sure

My unsanctioned research has concluded that as much as 50% of everything on Facebook is questionable, repetitious, unwanted or completely fake. For example, thanks to AI you can watch talking babies, talking dogs, squirrels pushing lawn mowers and the heads of beautiful women attached to someone else’s body, generally with huge…well, you know what they are.

There are countless posts that promise something that isn’t available unless I click on the link in comments, so that hackers can infect me with a Trojan virus and steal my password and contact list.

My news feed is filled with images of scenic bedrooms offering lake or mountain views, tables with pastry and coffee looking out a window into the rain, or foggy images of railroad stations waiting for a train. They’re attractive images and I like looking at most of them, but they just aren’t real.

Then there’s the lists of Top 10 actors who got old, stayed young, were actually lesbians, lost all their money, hated their costars, will never work again or (fill in the blank), each read by narrators who aren’t real people and can’t pronounce everyday words.

I see revolving but fake posts about sports heroes and celebrities who gave $10 or $20 million to rescue pets, each with a different photo but usually with identical words.

Daily there are at least five reminders that it’s the Gulf of Mexico, maps of interstate highways that might not even be there and countless memes of something stupid Trump said today on Truth Social.

I’ll get a dozen photos of Maria Sharapova in various states of dress (not that I mind) and the female celebrity of the day. Today it seems to be Susanna Hoffs. Or is it Kate Beckinsale? Or Marilu Henner? Linda Ronstadt is a given, and I’m guaranteed about six photos of the Eagles.   

Like the kid in that movie, I see a lot of dead people. That’s alarming, because most of them are approximately my age.

Several web sites purport to offer news on WVU athletic teams, but the content is either someone’s off-the-wall opinion or it’s flat-out wrong.

Don’t get me started on conspiracy theories, comments from imaginary pro-Trump bots, reels that tease everything from sex to people injuring themselves to missing music videos, or clips of Trump’s press secretary echoing today’s latest lies, and on and on.

I admit I like the AI photos of Halloween and old fashioned Christmas and spooky people in the fog. I’m chalking up most of the rest as just so much B.S.

And finally, there are several strings of people I might want to know. Note to Facebook: I know how to befriend people. If I wanted to know them, most likely I already would. 

There’s a whole lot more, but if you have read this far, you probably wonder why I even go to Facebook every day. That’s a fair question. I’m not really sure, except that I’m old, retired and bored most of the time, and it’s a hard habit to break. Plus, I have friends there. It’s like going to work every day and chatting with co-workers, except I can skip that whole “work” thing.

Anyhow, I’ve decided to establish a baseline: Everything on Facebook is fake until it’s not. That should simplify things. Meanwhile, I can pretend I’m sitting in a Paris café, drinking coffee with a young Linda Ronstadt and looking out at the rain. We’ve got an hour before we have to catch our train, somewhere out there in the fog. We’ll be heading up to our cabin by the lake. Or is it the mountain? 

Sorry. I forget.

History of the world wars in the giant brain of Donald Trump

Let’s say you’re the President of the United States and Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, but you never served in the military. Instead, you’re a five-time draft dodger who conjured up a phony case of “bone spurs” to keep from answering the call to duty.

Nevertheless, you got the job as president (twice) and have suddenly become fascinated with all things military. You’re planning a multi-million-dollar Washington, D.C., parade to celebrate your birthday on July 14, complete with marching soldiers, tanks, helicopters and all manner of military hardware.

They do this in Russia and North Korea and other authoritarian countries that you admire, so you want to have one here, too, so you can bask in its contrived adulation and praise.

And now you’ve decided to start renaming military holidays, including one that has existed since 1919, when it was founded as Armistice Day by President Woodrow Wilson after the conclusion of the first world war. You want to rename it “Victory Day for World War I,” ignoring the fact that its name was changed to Veterans Day in 1954, and it became a federal holiday to honor the millions of veterans who have served in all branches of the U.S. armed forces at any time.

And what’s worse, you’re also thinking about declaring a holiday on May 8 to be called “Victory Day for World War II,” recognizing the end of fighting in Europe while ignoring the fact that the second world war did not end until September 2, 1945, with the Japanese surrender following a bloody and extended battle in the Pacific islands.

Apparently you were absent from school the day we learned about the fighting in places like Guam, Guadalcanal, Midway, Okinawa and Iwo Jima, or that time we ended the war by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan? Maybe you should look that up. You see, World War II did not actually end until four months after our victory over the Nazis in Europe. VE Day, as it was called, was just a part of the history of the war. 

So that brings up a question. There are about 500-600 people working in the White House, plus an entire U.S. military (about 3 million people) under your command. Before saying something so colossally stupid as the war ended on May 8, couldn’t you have asked somebody if that was true? Had someone look it up for you? Watched the History Channel? Or picked up a book? Or called a fifth grader somewhere? Or just used Google?

See, here’s the problem. In the fantasy world where you reside, you believe that you know everything about everything, when in fact you know very little about our country, our history, our people and the way the world works. Your malignant narcissism prevents you from asking anybody for help, so you blunder through your days spouting one ignorant idea after another.

I’ve come to believe that you aren’t a real person, Mr. Trump, but rather a bloviating bag of blubbering fat cells that managed to con their way into a position of power. Your recent interest in military history is an insult to the real people who sacrificed themselves for this country and in whose honor our holidays are commemorated. My father and my father-in-law both fought in the Pacific during 1945, and you dishonor their service with your ignorance and your self-conceit.

If I were you, I’d stay away from issues involving military history and talk about things you actually know – such as how to make questionable real estate deals, defraud the IRS, cheat at golf and the proper application of hair products and spray-on tan.