Since a few days I’m living opposite the cemetery. One morning I was sitting in this beautiful place. It seemed like an island within the slowly awaking city. I can’t tell what it was; maybe it was the birds singing as if there were no tomorrow or the early morning sun blinking through the old trees, there was something magical but also real about this place. Sitting there eased my thoughts and it made me realise again the mortality of life and most of the things that are part of life and happen during our lifetime.
Thinking of mortality I remembered this article I read a few weeks ago. It was about a Swedish business idea, called My Webwill. The founder Lisa Granberg and her colleagues are dealing with the unusual question, what happens to our Facebook, twitter etc. profiles when we die. A question probably a very few people think of when they create their profiles. But even if nearly everything in life is mortal, our Facebook profiles aren’t until someone actually deletes them. (And then I am not quite convinced that they are really gone. But that is another question.) As weird as it sounds, My Webwill is offering a quite practical service that becomes necessary with the always growing use of social networks in society.
What is not really necessary in my opinion is an additional service they offer. If you register for My Webwill you have the opportunity to create your last status update or a message from the afterworld for your beloved. It could be argued that this is the modern form of a farewell letter but somehow it got this weird taste for me. It becomes even worse with their offer to maintain profiles after their owners died.
A Facebook profile can not replace the person behind it. As fascinating and unlimited the possiblities the web offers seem to be, there should be a limitation.
There are a few things that just don’t belong in places like Facebook, because they deserve some respect and reverence. And because they are too real.
Dead is definitely one of them.













