O

ne of the very first scenes in “The Social Network” shows Mark Zuckerberg’s drunken online adventure: the invention of Facemash, his website for Harvard students to rate their classmates based on pictures.

The concept was simple: Is this person hot or not?

Facemash, meet Tinder, the iPhone application launched in September 2012 by Hatch Labs, Inc. The app has risen to fame on college campuses across the country, and as of Monday, Tinder passed a whopping one billion profile rankings.

Essentially, after downloading the app, you log in via Facebook, select your sexual preference and allow it to access your current location. Then, the real magic happens: You’re free to swipe through every single potential match in your area, clicking the heart button if you like what you see, the “x” button if you don’t.

If I “like” a guy and he “likes” me back, then he becomes one of my matches. A chat bubble pops up, giving the two of us an open invitation to flirt.

Tinder’s tagline reads: “A fun way to break the ice.”

Apparently, this is how we’re meeting people now.

I downloaded the app this past Tuesday, partly because I was bored in class and partly because I wanted to find sources for this very column.  

Tinder fascinated me. I sat through a 90-minute lecture with my iPhone glued to my fingertips, swiping through pictures of every guy within 1 mile of the Natural History Building — my location. Tim, Lonnie, Erik, Carlos, Matthew … The fellas kept on coming.

A highlight of my Tinder research was recognizing people I knew, like Pierson Wodarz,freshman in DGS. Immediately, I sent him a text to find out his opinion of the app.

Wodarz claimed he wasn’t a fan. His response to my questioning: “If I needed to know if I was hot or not, I’d just make an account at HotOrNot.com … If that still exists? Lol.”

(Yes, that site does still exist. My friend might want to check that out.)

As I continued scrolling past faces, I pressed the “heart” button whenever I came across someone that was within a few miles of me. To my matches, I sent an innocent message that explained my column and asked for an interview.

First, there was Jay, who chatted me, then immediately blocked me after I popped my question. Then, a boy named Billy, whose response read: “Uhh ill pass thanks.”

Kevin: “I don’t do interview sorry.”

Daniel: “No thanks. Good luck thoe.”

Michael: “Haha no chance.”

Joseph: “Geez you didn’t even actually like me lol.”

I had hit a wall, unable to find anyone on Tinder who was actually willing to talk about Tinder. So, what’s a girl to do?

Draw conclusions. The men of our generation need to step up their game. Dating as Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks knew it is dead and dying, and it will continue to die a slow, painful death if the male population continues down this cowardly path.

Women are certainly at fault as well, but I think men are supposed to be the initiators, the pursuers, the leaders. They make the first move. Not us.

If I couldn’t even get a harmless little interview on Tinder, then how could any Tinderellas out there expect to get a date? A potential relationship? A boyfriend?

Of course, I don’t believe Tinder was created for love — it’s about lust. The app is driven by appearances and flirtation, a mindset that is killing our society.

A boy doesn’t simply call a girl to ask her out — he texts. He hides behind his phone, hoping and praying that she’ll type back a “yes.” Inventions such as Tinder are just fanning the flames.  

Listen up, guys, I’ve got a challenge for you: Man up. If you want to flirt, then flirt in person. If you want to take her to dinner, then go knock on her door.

And if you want to meet someone special on Tinder … Well, maybe you shouldn’t.