Life is funny.
Yesterday morning, the wife and I discussed my taking a week off from Twitter for a general mental health/happiness/political disengagement run.
I didn’t.
Then, last night, I Tweeted this …
The aftermath was not pretty. I deleted the Tweet and acknowledged it was poorly done, but not before a couple of people wished for my death and a couple of people wished for my death and my son’s death. There were the predictable “Liberalism is a mental disorder” odes, and a whole lot of nastiness that, truly, I largely brought upon myself.
The Tweet, to be clear, was a joke. I would never kill my dog. Or, for that matter, your dog. Hell, I don’t even eat red meat. But it was also a pretty good reminder that Twitter has turned absolutely toxic, and whether you’re kidding or serious, it’s a place best left unvisited if you seek intelligent dialogue or fair-minded debate. I’m not actually sure when this happened. As Chris Palmer noted in my latest podcast episode, somewhere along the way the medium morphed from a spot for spirited sport debates and pet photos to a spot where anonymous cowards threaten to kill your kids (as opposed to named cowards threatening to kill their own pets).
Anyhow, Norma is fine and dandy and unharmed.
The world is strange.
