I like Twitter, which is weird, because the people on Twitter seem to hate it the most. They call it dumb, they hate the other people on it, and they make fun of the weirdo who runs it. But I suspect they feel much the same as I do: the site IS dumb, and a lot of the people on it ARE worthy of hate and the guy who runs it IS is an out of touch billionaire weirdo who says he only eats like six meals a week or something. Despite all that, it can be awesome. But at the same time, there’s always been something very daunting about it.
I joined Twitter in 2009. I was a high school senior and I only gave it a look because Facebook (who were the good guys at the time [insane, I know]) didn’t give me the sports updates I needed and following the ESPN ticker was too slow. As I got older, I started following more reporters (sports and otherwise), politicians, comedians, and eventually just people who were funny. That’s when my posting anxiety took off.
Twitter, if you’re like me and following funny people (I’d highly recommend it. It really breaks up the graphs of skyrocketing COVID cases) can feel like going to the local gym, hoping to shoot hoops. You have an idea for a joke and you open the app. Suddenly, you see the court: someone throws down an absolute dunk of a joke, followed by a beautiful three-man-weave of memes. The passes are crisp, the defense is neat, and the nets are snapping. Every post is funny! There’s jokes about the political blunder de jour. There’s one about making fun of pretentious actor. There’s one about a random character in a niche video game you like.
And suddenly, your little joke isn’t funny enough for the big leagues. You take your ball and you walk right back out the door. You feel a little silly, “who was I to think I could run with the big dogs. Someone’s probably already made this joke before, probably a better version too.” But then, after a moment you think, it’d be pretty wild to have a twitter feed where you’re the funniest person. Would that even be enjoyable? To scroll through, looking down your nose at every post, every meme, every side-by-side of a republican and a classic Dril tweet, without so much as a giggle? That sounds awful.
I did an experiment a few years back. I challenged myself to tweet a joke, or something vaguely resembling it, every day for a year. I did it. A whole year. That’s longer than I’ve held most of my jobs. Nothing went viral. I didn’t make any money. I didn’t gain thousands of followers. But I definitely gained something: a new level of respect for the people who are out there constantly tweeting funny shit.
So, if any of you funny Twitter people are reading this, thank you. You make my world a brighter place. And if you’re more like me, and intimidated by the level of play, don’t be. Put your joke out there.
I don’t often comment to Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, etc. posts or to blogs, because I don’t really care what other people (aside from the author) think about my comments. However, this blog is an exception. It is definitely worth following, as Will not only is witty, but writes about thoughts that I believe all of us have had at some point. His observations are funny and likely will cause readers to nod their head in agreement. And, It’s not because he’s my nephew. His shit is honestly good. Will, I hope you’ve challenged yourself to do this for a year, at least.