I joined twitter dot com in November 2007, which means I’ve been on that cursed website for over 13 years. The thought of still being there 20 years later raises too many uncomfortable questions for me. Truth be told, using Twitter has been a compulsive act for me for a while. And the easiest solution is to simply pull the plug.
The thing that finally pushed me to this point, even though I had considered bidding farewell before, was Twitter banning the president of the United States. Leaving Twitter is in part a small act of protest against a company that thinks they can shape American politics by silencing voices.
No longer will I contribute to the enrichment of Jack Dorsey and his organization. Twitter’s stock value is largely driven by the number of “daily active users.” Well, subtract one from that total now. Also, Jack won’t be making any more ad revenue off of these eyeballs.
With the silencing of conservative voices, the website will become even more of an echo chamber. I don’t want to spend my time in an echo chamber of any political stripe. I’m actually sick of politics. I know I’m just as bad as anyone else at posting knee-jerk reactions to infuriating headlines, but I really don’t want politics to have that much influence on my thoughts and day-to-day life.
I realized a while ago that Twitter is a horrible forum for meaningful conversation. It’s a great way to quickly connect with a large number of people (it’s AMAZING at that), but even the best conversations are flitting and truncated. So, I’m returning to the airy confines of a personal website. Who knows, maybe I’ll just be screaming into the void from a different domain. But if you do still want to keep the conversation going, leave a message here. Just like one of those old-fashioned message boards.
Blown away by this drawing my seven-year-old made. When I tried to lay the notebook flat to take a picture, he told me I had to let the pages flip up so that the drawing looked 3D. Who is this kid?
Here’s a little love song my wife and I wrote and recorded for a friend’s play when we lived in LA.
A woman on the local NPR station pronounces the word as stay-shun.
Don’t mess with fate
It’s a double-edged sword
That your health can’t afford