Tweet disposition

Watching the destruction of Twitter, live on Twitter, is something of a spectator sport. It is unfolding in real time, this complete implosion of a ‘site’ once revered by wordsmiths, academics, social justice warriors, comedians, poets, animal lovers, sometimes people who identified as all of the above. 

     The most compelling thing about watching this transpire is that it is happening with the written word alone. From the perspective of one entering the Twittersphere to read other people’s Tweets (which is really all I have ever found it useful for), nothing has changed. The format is the same. The layout of the site is the same. It is only the tone, when you start reading, that has experienced a momentous shift in a matter of days. 

    There is so much sadness, and self-reflection, and doubt, creeping into these voices that were once just there, just because they could be. They were steadfast, and clever, and I never had cause to doubt that they would always be that way. I didn’t know these people, much as I often wanted to. I knew very little about their lives either, unless they shared some photos of their dog or their latest holiday/adventure. But they became company in a strange way, a little light relief in the darkness of the online atmosphere. 

     I twigged fairly early on that there were about three personality types on Twitter, at least in the circles where I found myself. There were academics, tortured and slightly self-obsessed but in an authoritative way. Then writers, also tortured and self-obsessed but more self-deprecating. And comedians, who were quick-witted and hilarious to watch as long as you didn’t apply too much psychoanalysis to their emotional state. 

    In the past few days, the mood has been irrevocably altered. There are those who are just there to have a go at Elon (admittedly pretty easy to do), with slightly dark memes and even darker innuendos about billionaires and the state of the world. Sometimes when they say, ‘the world’, I think they mean Twitter. But I think they believe that when they say it. I think some people have morphed the idea of Twitter into their idea of the world, complete with beautiful caring friends, dogs, cats, gardens. It’s a whole simulated life.

    Then, of course, there are those who have been around since the very beginning. Since it wasn’t even cool to be there. I can never tell if these people are being ironic and self-deprecating or if they really believe they are uber-cool and nobody would have ever found Twitter if it wasn’t for their magnetic personality. But regardless, they are there in multiples. And of course, they claim that in the beginning, people found each other on Twitter and then met in real life and it was love at first sight and they formed the deepest, most authentic attachment with all their new friends that will never be affected by anything as superficial as a billionaire buying and ruining the site of their very first meeting.

    Maybe I’m cynical, but I find it hard to take all these people at their word. Ultimately, what really fascinates me is that, despite the advances of technology where we can form deep and lasting friendships with people from the other side of the world and converse with them on multiple subjects, the same personality traits emerge. It’s still like Year 9 at high school, when the popular group all had the latest spiral perm but the head popular girl had to get it first, then her minions followed in no particular order because nobody cared. But everyone remembered that head girl was the first to step bravely into the world of the spiral perm, unsure how it would go for her but determined that it would be great.

    I’m thinking of people I really admire when I say this, so it’s not without its qualifications. The two who come to mind are really brilliant writers, and good people as far as I can tell (although far is exactly where I am in terms of their actual lives and personalities). But still they are spewing forth these copious threads, regaling us all with how brilliant Twitter used to be, how they will miss it so, how they do not know where they will go now, and it all gives me huge Gone With the Wind vibes, in that scene where Scarlett stands at the door, pleading with Rhett in that pitiful Southern belle routine that Vivien Leigh made her own: “But Rhett, Rhett! Where shall I go, what shall I do?”. I think you know the next bit.

    On Friday, there are murmurings about a thing called Mastodon, which is apparently a platform some Twitter stalwarts are considering moving to. There is hesitation, and the important addendum to followers that “I won’t go anywhere without telling you first”. I am sure this is well-intentioned. I am also sure there are people out there who would almost lose their minds if they lost this connection with somebody they assume they know, or even assume is a close personal friend. But it all seems so fraught to me.

    By Saturday evening, the Mastodon thing has been explored and found to be seriously wanting. There are multiple ‘servers’ depending on your interests, and how will we know to find each other if we don’t know which server we’re both at? It reminds me of those days when you had to actually make a plan to meet your friends at the shopping mall on a Thursday night, because there was no such thing as a mobile phone to text them with if you got your wires crossed and ended up at Kleins when you should have been at Hot Property. 

    On Sunday, the voices of dissent are drowning out most of the other content on Twitter, which I guess would be clue number one that the whole thing is about to disappear up its own orifice. I hear some strong but solo voices saying they will stay to fight the system, because after all Twitter is all about the people and it’s always the people who have to struggle against unfair and corrupt systems, otherwise they would just be allowed to run roughshod over humanity and democracy and right about now I imagine that voice gradually fading into nothingness as it disappears mysteriously into a dark cell, or over the edge of a cliff. 

    None of this is to say that I am not affected by these latest developments. I will be sad to lose this place where I can find information, or witty commentary, or cat photos, at a moment’s notice whenever I need them. It is borderline alarming to think that these things, once all gathered in the same place exactly where you knew where to find them, might now be scattered to the winds. What is more alarming are the recent headlines I’ve seen about Elon spouting Republican PR on his new platform, and the news that he has stood down whole teams of people from Twitter headquarters, including those whose job was to manage the whole ‘human rights’ thing and make sure nobody figuratively set fire to the whole place. Now, it is a looming possibility that the new CEO will do that literally.

    On Monday, there are people who have gone to planet Mastodon and tried to get in but it wouldn’t let them, and what could this possibly mean except that it is clearly an inferior place and if it won’t have them, well they don’t want to be there and that’s that. So they are back in Twitter, waiting sullenly, like a teenager who’s been locked out of the house because they forgot their spare key. And they’re only here because the mall is on fire.

    By now, the whole fabric of Twitter is made up of people making witty/cynical analogies between ‘this bin-fire of a site’ and other diabolically bad situations. But as I mentioned before, it’s all just text. There is no actual bin fire, no actual ‘site’, no real friendships at risk (if they are indeed real), and ultimately no ‘place’ in which to locate all this chaos, except in individual users’ emotional landscapes. When did we all become so attached to these ‘sites’ and attribute them so much meaning? Did it happen gradually, while we weren’t paying attention?

    By now, the vibe has become one of panic. People are running backwards and forwards from Twitter to Mastodon, trying to find servers, posting their ridiculously long-winded new account names lest anyone lose them in the crush. And the poor admins at Mastodon are overwhelmed by this sudden interest in their once-marginal online platform, unable to keep up with all the newcomers who are used to being served immediately if not sooner.

    I guess I am thinking I will just watch it all unfold. What option do I have? It’s not like I have any followers really, and I have certainly never cultivated anything like a following on Twitter. I prefer to follow, is what I’m saying. I am following the latest shenanigans with absolute fascination, and it doesn’t show any signs of getting less interesting any time soon. I have no way of knowing how this will end. Nobody does. Which makes it totally on-trend for 2022 (and 2020 and 2021 for that matter) as well as being decent entertainment.