I have to write about this, because I ran into two creepy instances of this in two days.
Yesterday, when I was finally updating the singing screen readers post, I was trying to look up Chris Skarstad’s name. I knew the probability was good that I would screw it up. I stumbled across his Twitter account, and saw this robot thing posting on his behalf that it had been 15 years since he joined Twitter. It did that in October of 2022. Hey, robot thing. He passed away in 2017. You might want to stop posting. I know that someone has to delete the Twitter account for the robot to get the message, but it’s still creepy to see things like that.
Then, today I awoke to see Facebook telling me about the birthday of Trixie’s raiser. It just told me it was someone’s birthday, and I was trying to think of who else’s birthday it could have been. So I clicked on it and saw it was Trixie’s raiser’s birthday. I never posted about this because I could never find her obituary, but Trixie’s raiser passed away in April of 2021. Seeing her birthday notification was jarring and sad. I know, I could just unfriend her. But that feels weird too.
It really makes me glad that I don’t have anything proclaiming my anniversaries on any social media, and it makes me want to make sure that when I do kick the bucket, someone will let Facebook know that we don’t have to notify anyone of my next birthday.
Gees. Where did that sad bit of stuff come from? It’s New Year’s Eve! I should be bouncing. Well, hopefully I’ll have happier stuff to write later.
That’s totally creepy, and it’s only going to get worse as years pass. I know it’s possible to make a memorial page for someone, but it sounds like it takes some work and some documentation. It should, but who wants to think about that when they’re dealing with a lost loved one in the real world?