Is Facebook now a Replacement for Public Walls?

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Once upon a time, public display of ‘word’ consisted of writing content in bathroom stalls or on walls–like these at Boldt Castle. Sometimes walls could talk, and gossip would get back to us later about who wrote what where and why. Our thoughts were written down in personal diaries or letters that were sent and kept in a box for posterity. Things were whispered and kept in private and only years down the road would you find out things you wish you would have known sooner.

 

Now the “wall” that everyone seems to talk about is the Facebook wall where everyone you really don’t know reads your inner thoughts and dreams on a daily basis. This wall says it is a place to post content to share with a broader audience. Would this same audience be allowed to read your diary years ago? So why are we sharing our life’s time line with total strangers?

 

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People complain all the time that their privacy is being breached and threaten Facebook with lawsuits for exploiting their recent activity privacy. Well, if they would stop putting up things they don’t want to be made public– things would be okay. Where is the line drawn about what you post or what you read? As Sarah Chalke once said: “Human beings are not meant to lose their anonymity and privacy.” Nor their brains. 

 

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Linda Seccaspina Photos 

Images of the upper floor of Boldt Castle that has not been renovated yet. The walls contain hundreds of signatures and messages from 1960 on. It was called ‘early texting’!

Boldt Castle is in the middle of the St. Lawrence Seaway on the American side facing  Ontario.

About lindaseccaspina

Linda Knight Seccaspina was born in Cowansville, Quebec about the same time as the wheel was invented and the first time she realized she could tell a tale was when she got caught passing her smutty stories around in Grade 7 at CHS by Mrs. Blinn. When Derek "Wheels" Wheeler from Degrassi Jr. High died in 2010, Linda wrote her own obituary. Some people said she should think about a career in writing obituaries. Before she laid her fingers to a keyboard, Linda owned the eclectic store Flash Cadilac and Savannah Devilles in Ottawa from 1976-1996. After writing for years about things that she cared about or pissed her off she finally found her calling. Is it sex drugs and rock n' roll you might ask? No, it is history. Seeing that her very first boyfriend in Grade 5 (who she won a Twist contest with in the 60s) is the head of the Brome Misissiquoi Historical Society and also specializes in local history back in Quebec, she finds that quite funny. She writes every single day and is also a columnist for Hometown News and Screamin's Mamas. She is a volunteer for the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum, an admin for the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page, and a local guest speaker. She has been now labelled an historian by the locals which in her mind is wrong. You see she will never be like the iconic local Lanark County historian Howard Morton Brown, nor like famed local writer Mary Cook. She proudly calls herself The National Enquirer Historical writer of Lanark County, and that she can live with. Linda has been called the most stubborn woman in Lanark County, and has requested her ashes to be distributed in any Casino parking lot as close to any Wheel of Fortune machine as you can get. But since she wrote her obituary, most people assume she's already dead. Linda has published six books, "Menopausal Woman From the Corn," "Cowansville High Misremembered," "Naked Yoga, Twinkies and Celebrities," "Cancer Calls Collect," "The Tilted Kilt-Vintage Whispers of Carleton Place," and "Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac." All are available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle. Linda's books are for sale on Amazon or at Wisteria · 62 Bridge Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada, and at the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum · 267 Edmund Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada--Appleton Museum-Mississippi Textile Mill and Mill Street Books and Heritage House Museum and The Artists Loft in Smith Falls.

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