If you’ve tuned in to the Olympics in recent days, you’ve probably noticed those inspiring commercials of Facebookers performing daring feats of Facebooking. The thrilling images of Facebookers tirelessly honing their craft have sent untold numbers of viewers flocking to the social media site to discover how they might become a part of this movement spanning the globe.
“Well, when you see what some of these elite level Facebookers are capable of, you’re just like, ‘Wow! How do they do that?’” said Jim McKay, Director of Television Advertising for the company. “We’re out to capture that TV viewing couch potato who’s been too lazy to try out our platform, and we think wowing them with a bit of the old razzle-dazzle is the way to get them to come onboard.”
Indeed, the Facebookers featured in these ads make it look effortless, but often years of hard work and tireless striving for perfection have gone into achieving that level of excellence.
“Most people don’t realize these Facebookers fail more often than they succeed. But when they do finally get it right, it’s like poetry or beautiful music. That’s what a Facebook legend looks like,” said McKay. “It’s the thrill of likes and shares and the agony of getting dogpiled. It all comes through in these commercials, and we think it’s a sure bet to lure people away from the boob-tube, out of the sweaty gyms and bug infested parks and into Facebooking where the world belongs.”
The life of a skater was a lonely one until recent years. The typical skater was a solitary figure haunting the skate park or aimlessly gliding down a city street looking for someone, anyone to burn a doobie with. It seemed like no one cared, like no one shared their interest. In the old days, the discovery of an abandoned pool was like striking gold, except there was no way to communicate the find to other like-minded skaters. Thus the solitary punk usually just hung out by his or herself, mastering tricks, drinking beer and listening to Black Flag all alone. Some skaters built half-pipes, but the problem of how to discover others who might also wish to hone their vertical skills persisted. It seemed like the idea of building a community around skateboarding was a fleeting pipe dream, like that elusive perfect move that never seems to come together. Then came Facebook extending a hand up after you’ve taken a nasty spill. They want to help skaters pursue their dreams, like a cool dad who built you a half-pipe, only they’re like this creepy stranger who just wants to get to know everything about you. They’re the friendly dude at the park who just wants to introduce you to all these other friendly folks they think you’ll like. Now, thanks to Facebook, that lonely skater soaring high above the scorching concrete while Suicidal Tendencies blasts in the background has finally found a friend and somebody to burn that doobie with.