Twitter is officially 20 years old. In another reality, that might make me kind of nostalgic. I’ve been lurking and scrolling and tweeting for 16 years; most of my adult life. There was a time when Twitter was a place where some internet strangers became my IRL friends, when I was excited to “live-tweet”. When my infinitely more well-adjusted friends would send me memes, I would smugly say “I saw that on Twitter days ago.” Twitter stopped being that place a long time ago, but I don’t have any nostalgia for it. I don’t really feel anything at all, actually. Because I can already hear the comments: Yes, I’m still on X. I don’t spend as much time there as I did a decade ago, but it’s still quite a lot of time, an unhealthy amount, if I’m being honest. My job is to report on social media companies, so I keep (doom)scrolling. That’s what I tell myself anyway. A few of my favorite posters are still around. Dril’s still got it. The memes are still, occasionally, good, even though X’s recommendation algorithm seems to prefer pointing me toward endless AI slop, boring hot takes from thirsty mid-tier tech execs
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