My Experience With Twitter Thus Far

 When I re-acquired home internet service a few months ago, after mostly being away from it for nine years, I had grand ideas about reviving my blog, reconnecting and catching up with all the other blogs I used to follow, and being part of a smart and articulate virtual community again.

Little did I know, the internet went through some changes between 2012 and 2022. Some of the blogs I used to read are, well, not exactly dead, I would say, but any life left there resembles a lichen--technically alive, just not very ambitious. And of the ones that are still active, the comment sections have slowed to a point that make them no longer a place to hang out.

So, Twitter. 

I wouldn't have thought it, but Twitter has ended up being my main online hangout, despite the limitations of the 280-character format, despite not having heard anything good about it for years and years. I restarted my account, @feralboy12. I am mostly calling myself Nick Soapdish, although I can change that depending on my mood. And I do have moods.

My legion of followers currently numbers 38.  Most of my tweets are replies to tweets from people much more famous than I, luminaries such as William Shatner, George Takei, David Crosby, Michael McKean, Lynda Carter, Mike Pence, Liz Cheney, and Herschel Walker, none of whom have acknowledged my commentary, and Sophia Bush, who has.

She likes me. I have the receipt.

But most of what I had been hearing about Twitter led me to expect a fairly godawful experience; the term I have heard most often is "cesspool." In my experience, though, Twitter is more like a giant field full of weird plants and many anthills. It's possible to wander about and simply observe, remaining inconspicuous, mainly reading and watching videos, avoid the troublesome areas, and have a reasonably entertaining time. I do this sometimes.

But it actually takes some effort not to wander over to one of the anthills and just check things out. And, me being me, having a serious case of "someone's wrong on the internet!" I can't always resist tossing something in among those busy little insects.

And it really is like disturbing an ant's nest. Countless weird little robotic creatures begin scurrying about, dashing here and there in furious, yet oddly pointless, activity. They reply back to you, repeatedly, then they reply to each other, repeatedly, posting pictures and memes and gifs, repeatedly, even if you never reply back, going on and on long after you've stopped checking your notifications for the day.

And they do sometimes snap at you, rearing up their little insect heads, getting all bitey with antennae waving wildly, intending to be threatening, behavior which might actually work against, say, another ant.

This exchange started with a tweet from the esteemed Republican congresswoman from Georgia, Marjorie Taylor Greene, regarding the horrors supposedly found on Hunter Biden's laptop. She had no specifics on what was supposedly found there, but whatever it was, she seemed to want to impeach Joe Biden for it. I channeled my inner Colonel Kurtz and my inner Perry Mason and replied.

(Unrelated, that last tweet there is in reference to my photo of the Paul Bunyan and Babe statues at Trees of Mystery, as seen in my profile pic at the head of this post.)

But that little kick did seem to set them in motion. And then things got weird for a while. I just watched.

First of all, Mike is right. I would avoid watching child porn if someone tried to show me some.

Please, please, people, tell me you're not sending each other child porn over the internet? 

There was more. I'll spare you, however.

Most of my interactions have been more benign than this encounter. I suppose the high point so far is Sophia Bush; second might be the time I made former U.S. Surgeon General Jerome Adams laugh with a joke about toothpaste, getting an actual, verified "LOL" in reply.

The pinnacle, of course, would be to get a reply or like from William Shatner. That hasn't happened yet. Either he doesn't read his replies, or he doesn't actually enjoy unsolicited references to a role he played on TV decades ago.

Ah, but I do love him. My captain. My king. My god. My Kurok. Perhaps someday he will do me the honor of acknowledging my puny existence.

I must go now. Twitter calls. You can find me there @feralboy12. I'll be the guy telling Mike Pence to hang in there and sending dick jokes to Lauren Boebert.