In an outage which would have given rise to humankind’s worst existential jokes, should anyone have been able to post them, the mighty Facebook and Instagram went down and the world ended.
Well, it didn’t end, but it might as well have done because nothing is real unless you post it on your stream, right?
Apocalyptic panic spread throughout the world as social media addicts (and I count myself in this category) jabbed hopelessly at their devices, with all 2.5 billion Facebook users and 100 million Instagram users unable to post a heavily edited selfie with bunny ears.
Indeed, who even knew my online friends didn’t live in a soft-focus environment tinted with pink and softly falling stars?
I, for one, am horrified.
I may mock, but this impact on business was stratospheric.
Not just here in media where the terrifying duoply of Facebook and Google dictate our audience, determine our success and manipulate our puppet strings on a whim while stealing our main streams of advertising revenue.
The loss of Facebook left us stood up on a date with our narcissistic partner who controls the purse strings.
Out in the wider world, with Facebook determining what people read about and reinforcing their own views so they can agree with themselves on a minute-by-minute basis, they were forced into the wild west of the world wide web to discover that other viewpoints and arguments exist.
Or actually talk to people in person or using their voices.
Meanwhile suspicions grew hackers may be responsible (they weren’t), although Theresa May was top of my suspect list because if anyone needed to mute Russian bots pushing unpalatable political agendas and amusing memes to the gullible it is her chaotic Government.
But I do like the idea of a sulky teenager taking Facebook down because s/he really wanted to go inter-railing without a post-Brexit visa.
Meanwhile, at Facebook headquarters, red-faced PR types, probably sitting on beanbags, were forced to take to er, rival Twitter, to explain themselves.
But all is well now - presumably because some smart Alek turned it off and on again.
If only we could do that with Brexit.
READ MORE: Who's the daddy: Love Hurts