The rise of Facebook has introduced many social etiquette dilemmas to the world.
I mean, how do you tell that guy from school that you weren’t friends back in the day, that nothing has changed, or your ex that you don’t want to see her again, not even in digital form.
If these are some of the issues you are grappling with, then welcome to Hatebook, the anti-social networking website that allows you to channel all of your bitterness, resentment and hate.
Hatebook, according to its home page, is the place where you can upload lies, publish secrets, get the latest gossip, tag your enemies, join a Hate-Clan, take over the world and reveal photos and videos of your hate. As the site reminds you, “the enemies of your enemies are your friends”.
I was intrigued, to say the least. And, within a couple of minutes, I was busy pimping my hate profile.
After selecting a user name and a suitable profile picture, it was straight into the nitty-gritty.
Relationship status? Am I a player, a hater, a loser or a sucker? I wasn’t quite sure so I went with the “You don’t want to know” option.
Then on to my job. Am I a Bogeyman, a Dealer, an Eager Servant, Paris Hilton (yes I am not making this up), a Desperate Hausfrau or the Ruler of the World?
I hate Paris Hilton, so that one’s cancelled out.
Then I needed a Hate-Motto. A quick search on Google for hate-themed quotes and I found, “End discrimination. Hate everybody”. That will work.
Then on to the finer details of my hate: what movies, music and books suck and what brands and food I hate.
Finally a place to vent my spleen about those tedious Harry Potter novels, those pathetic Leon Schuster movies and the terrible music that Prime Circle, Desmond and the Tutus and Watershed make; oh and, of course, Bono.
Next up was the opportunity to found my very own Hate-clan, a space where I can bond with others over our hate for something.
So who better than Cape Town’s finest boy band the Dirty Skirts, who a friend said the other day sound exactly like Indecent Obsession with loud guitars.
From there I joined a few other Hate-Clans like the “I hate Nickelback” clan, the “Jamie Oliver, you can lick my balls” clan and the “You’re emo, you’re a dick” clan.
Then on to the section that allows you to upload pictures of everything you hate and fill in the section about why you are so much better than everybody else.
Once my hate profile was pimped, I was ready to start spreading lies, tagging enemies and sending people junk mail.
Things that are this much fun should surely be illegal?
It seems that South African Hatebookers are aggressive little critters. In the 20 minutes it took me to sign up and detail my hate, I had 10 fellow Haters attached to my profile.
Johannesburg has 72 Haters, which seems fairly low for the amount of bitter and aggressive people I see on the roads every day.
South Africa as a whole has 514 Haters, with Cape Town weighing in with a hefty 116 and Durban with a more moderate 52.
I mean, what do Durbanites have to hate, besides the humidity, the oil refineries and the serious lack of a live music scene?
Well, I suppose that after the Super 14 final you can add the Bulls to that list.
To register with Hatebook head on over to www.hatebook.org