Twitter: The only thing worse than blogging

Fuck Twitter.

One day, I got really high and had this great idea to further erode the quality of information on the internet. What if bloggers were only allowed to post 140 characters in each post? The consequences might possibly include the final death of journalism in exchange for ultra-simplistic celebrity worship. “My God,” I thought, “the masses would shit themselves in excitement and trample each other to death for quicker access to such a service.” That was when I remembered I was thinking about something that already existed.

Twitter provides me with a customized stream of micro-blog posts on a wide range of bullshit I couldn’t give a fuck about. Somewhere, buried in the defiled ocean of witty celebrity comments and political trolls, something of interest may occasionally float to the surface. This is such a rare occasion that I really don’t know why I even bother anymore. Oh yeah, that’s right, I am desperately trying to float this web site to the top. Luckily, I kick ass. Sort of.

I sit around desperately watching for mentions from users with more followers than me. I socially engineered the famous hacker group LulzSec into tweeting a link to Chronicle.SU, only when the link smacked the face of 350,000 followers so many visitors flooded the site it crashed as if it were under attack. Our servers were crippled for days.

Fuck Twitter.

4 replies on “Twitter: The only thing worse than blogging”

believing nothing sucks.
i once said, shrooms kinda make me believe in god. not a religious god, but something. i knew my understanding was limited, and i was more than aware understanding was never likely to take place. that can’t be the ultimate in understanding though. i think we’ve been fooled into thinking we’re not meant to understand existence. jsut because the accpeted schools of thought, such as the church or synagogue or whatever the fuck, just because they have obviously misinterpreted existence, doesn’t mean they weren’t at least on to something. there are fucking plants, and not just pot, brutus, that help humans tap into parts of the brain otherwise unknown. they help us expand on ideas we can only begin to understand sober.
what i see, is that we’re no more in tune with reality by believing that we can’t understand it, than people that pretend to. just because they’re facing the wrong direction, doesn’t make them any farther from actuality. in their eyes, we have purpose. in mine, we don’t. at least that is what being lied to most of my life has taught me.

if we aren’t meant to understand, and there is a god, then fuck him.
so i’m at the point where i’ve been for two years now, nothing to believe except that i can believe nothing. my brain, my thoughts, my life is meaningless.
i wish i was still a christian. ignorance really is bliss.

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