On The Rampage: Twitter Is Turning Us All Into Anti-Christs
Flashback: it’s May, and the Eurovision has started rolling out its latest musical soldiers. Englebert Humperdinck pops out. You tweet about how he looks like he’s struggling without the Zimmer frame, and how the song sucks balls. Hungary pops out. You tweet some joke about ‘Hungary Hungary Hippos’. And how the song sucks balls. You’re so funny! Albania pops out with what looks like rejected Christmas tree baubles in her hair. ‘Twitter’s going to love this one!’ you reckon. Then your feed updates and you notice that everyone – *everyone* – is doing the exact same thing as you: liveblogging the cheesiest event on Earth like they’re some coked-up Guardian journalist. ‘Oh Jesus!’ you exclaim. ‘I’m an asshole!’
Ed Norton nailed it in Fight Club when he suggested that people don’t listen to what you have to say, instead just waiting for their turn to speak. Twitter removes that hurdle and presents you with an interruption-free environment that must leave Kanye West feeling somewhat impotent. Ever notice that the quiet guy you know has over 200,000 tweets? There’s nothing to stop him from speaking up now, and usually it’s for the worse. The subtly hidden multitasking of thinking and typing lowers your IQ to a depressing level. No wonder people get arrested for what they type, because Twitter is technically a microblogging website, with you and every other moron on the planet published instantaneously without any quality control beyond a comatose spellcheck. You might say ‘I’ll kill you’ in real life and get away with it, but say it on Twitter and you’re likely to get a court summons. Quote Family Guy at a party and you may get a few close friends and dogging enthusiasts to laugh. Quote it on Twitter and you can get arrested. Choc Ice infuckingdeed.
It’s like the world hasn’t yet grasped the concept that words and opinions carry weight and meaning, or are worth something. But if that was the case, why are you publishing your views at all? Is it a cruel practical joke on your behalf to waste 2 seconds of all your followers’ lives, publishing from your own bathroom about how you need to buy more soap? What? You what? THERE’S A FUCKING ROBOT ON MARS! IT’S TWEETING FROM 50 MILLION KM AWAY! YOUR HYGIENE DILEMMA IS SPARRING FOR SPACE WITH THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT OF MANKIND SINCE THE MOON LANDING! I’M CONFUSED – DID YOU THINK YOUR PASSIVE THOUGHT WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THAT OR DO YOU THINK BOTH MESSAGES ARE EQUALLY SHIT?
I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, I get flustered sometimes. But here’s another thing that irritates me: online grammar Nazis (also including those who complain about posting in all capitals) can fuck right off. I have 140 characters. I’m not sorry that my Joycean masterpiece of a tweet went to 141 characters and I had to commit a grammatical war crime to make it fit so you could have the pleasure of smearing your whining vomitus across the screens of the world for what exactly? Superiority? No. That just turns you into a pisshead. A pisshead who spent 10 seconds of their life explaining to someone that they were wrong. On the internet. Honest to Allah, you’d get more productivity from a cockroach sweatshop in Beverly Hills.
And another thing: celebrities who try to tweet something meaningful, often formatting their tweets in an incredibly awkward and self-serving manner, presumably because they can’t take their hands out of their arse long enough to write ‘pause for dramatic effect‘. I know you don’t tolerate racism. You’re not supposed to! Why not just tweet that you don’t tolerate carbon monoxide in your lungs? Oh, and the inspirational quotes you got off Google stink like a prawn cocktail that’s been under the radiator since Christmas.
And another thing: you fucking one-word tweeters. I hate you. ‘Durant’. What? Who the fuck is Durant? Is he a superhero? The basketball player? Is Nicholas Cage playing him in a film? Is he OK? Is he dead? Are you just expecting the world to be zapped into your mindset and pick up on the microwave bursts your brain is leaking that hopefully reflect back off your smartphone and give you stupid cancer? I don’t want you to get stupid cancer, but something has to be done.
And another thing: why the fuck would you tweet this? Who the fuck retweets shit like this? I probably could have guessed that you like pizza before you strained your thumb muscles that are already over-extended from all the vigorous wanking you do behind the screen. Because that’s all you do, isn’t it? You post something that would make a Cyberman look like Plato, thinking you’re the funniest thing since that guy who slipped on the ice on RTÉ news, then pound away on your love burrito/love taco shell for the rest of the day.
And another thing: People who programme bots to search for specific terms and autorespond on Twitter. There is a special place in hell reserved for anybody that doesn’t fantasise about one day finding a person responsible for this prolapse of an invention and performing DIY dentistry on them.
And another thing: sportsmen. Stop being so bloody nice and philosophical. Stop praising every athlete who comes your way, regardless of whether they beat you down or vice-versa. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned rivalry? Stop sitting on the fence claiming that the haters ‘don’t know what’s going on’. Well fucking tell us already! We want to hear! You’re our idols, we want to be on your side. If you simply tweet your opinion and not the facts, you devalue them and we can’t help you, mate. In fact, now I hate you too.
And another thing: Leon Knight. Just shut up, Leon. Your incessant, hateful messages empower you about as much as stripping empowers a llama. You have as much taste as a water balloon. You’re a shit footballer. And your head is a funny shape too.
And another thing: parody accounts. Look at your stomach. Just look at it. You see those shiny things there? Those are the tears you didn’t feel dropping out of your eyes, because your soul is crying at the fact that you live vicariously through more successful, better-looking people than you. Pull your fucking socks up and be yourself. First step, get off Twitter. Step two: stay off Twitter. Forever. Please Christ. Unless you’re one of the Ted parody accounts, in which case you need to do your gnarliest skateboarding Saddam Hussein impression and get some hang time.
And another thing: those who ask for a RT need to understand the word ‘gouge’, then be threatened by someone, such that the aforementioned threat mentions the word ‘gouge’ somewhere. While we’re on the subject of RTs, Russia Today’s twitter feed can go fuck itself too. Bloody Communist propaganda shovellers.
And another thing: The Washing Machine account… actually, I’ve got nothing against The Washing Machine account.
And another thing: people who retweet by quoting the tweet, so their avatar (usually their smug face) is still visible next to someone else’s well-adjusted and carefully-constructed point. Now I’ve seen the same tweet twice, wasting twice the time I needed to perfect my knife-sharpening skills to have a calm, adult conversation with your narcissism skills.
And another thing: ‘Inspirational’ or ‘common feeling’ or ‘funny facts’ accounts can fuck right off. Just look at that shit up there. I’m sure Bashar al-Assad is looking at that tweet on his home computer and nodding away in agreement. ‘I know that feel, bro,’ he probably said.
And ANOTHER thing: foreign language speakers. Stop. Your bloody accented, non-Latin characters are taking up too much memory, further shortening the 140 ‘characters’ available to you. If you think that newsagent really overcharged you, simply walk down to his shop with a hammer and drive a four-inch nail into his window. Much more effective than a sexy, umlaut-filled bitching bout.
AND ANOTHER THING: STOP. RETWEETING. PIERS. CUNTING. MORGAN. He’d have you lick his shoes clean in the morning if he could, masturbating on sight to the Union Jack and encouraging children to smoke from age 12.
And another thing: the fucking Mars fucking Curiosity Rover account can fuck right to the arse-end of Phobos. Pretentious twat that he is, tweeting from the surface of Mars. Is the 3G reception there any use, yeah? Good stuff. I’m just going to go over here not run out of power in 14 years.
Is that everyone? Right then. Fuck off.