 |
| Three dudes and a dream that'll never come true. Yep. |
[WARNING: This post barely discusses soccer, MLS or otherwise. You’ve been warned, everything after this is on you.]
I’ve been on Twitter long enough to forget how I used to promote posts to a larger public. True story. I know BigSoccer played a role at some point…speaking of, if you wanna see a dead body, visiting BigSoccer is the online equivalent of walking through a graveyard with all the graves dug up and the caskets open.
I doubt Conifers & Citrus could have worked without Twitter. I’m not entirely sure it will work without it, but I’m about to find out.
Like millions of people – a phrase I use with confidence for the first time, btw – I’ve been mulling deleting my twitter since Elon Musk bought it, near as I can tell, as the self-driving car of toilet paper. It’s less stupid than it was last spring, aka, the parade of bad ideas/threats that went on for months – don't know about you, but my first personal “fuck this” came with his two-day experiment with limiting the number of tweets non-subscribers could send or send – but fall roughed it up in its own way, maybe one that’s worse. To strain a metaphor…
I haven’t closed down a bar since my 20s (fine, mid-30s), but Twitter Musk.0 has recreated a Bizarro version of the experience. Some form of desperation defined Twitter from Day 1, obviously, but the tang of it stings the nostrils a little more with each passing week. Over half the likes I get lately come from – I don’t know, bots? lazy marketing for dating/soft-porn sites? – and 75% of the ads sell a slurry of crypto-currency, life-/investment coaching, and the kind of weird shit they used to advertise on late-night TV to lonely people with diminished impulse control. Unlike a bar, Twitter works to keep you in, not kick you out - and they do it appealing to your most lizard-brained fantasies...depressing, comes to mind…
I’ve been on Twitter long enough to forget how I used to promote posts to a larger public. True story. I know BigSoccer played a role at some point…speaking of, if you wanna see a dead body, visiting BigSoccer is the online equivalent of walking through a graveyard with all the graves dug up and the caskets open.
I doubt Conifers & Citrus could have worked without Twitter. I’m not entirely sure it will work without it, but I’m about to find out.
Like millions of people – a phrase I use with confidence for the first time, btw – I’ve been mulling deleting my twitter since Elon Musk bought it, near as I can tell, as the self-driving car of toilet paper. It’s less stupid than it was last spring, aka, the parade of bad ideas/threats that went on for months – don't know about you, but my first personal “fuck this” came with his two-day experiment with limiting the number of tweets non-subscribers could send or send – but fall roughed it up in its own way, maybe one that’s worse. To strain a metaphor…
I haven’t closed down a bar since my 20s (fine, mid-30s), but Twitter Musk.0 has recreated a Bizarro version of the experience. Some form of desperation defined Twitter from Day 1, obviously, but the tang of it stings the nostrils a little more with each passing week. Over half the likes I get lately come from – I don’t know, bots? lazy marketing for dating/soft-porn sites? – and 75% of the ads sell a slurry of crypto-currency, life-/investment coaching, and the kind of weird shit they used to advertise on late-night TV to lonely people with diminished impulse control. Unlike a bar, Twitter works to keep you in, not kick you out - and they do it appealing to your most lizard-brained fantasies...depressing, comes to mind…
