Twitter is a hellscape became my mantra long before the pandemic hit, but now that we're in the midst of it, I'm spending a lot more time on the platform, because I can convince myself that anything is necessary that's actually messing up my mental health, and wasting my life on that 140-word junkpit is no exception.
It's funny to see so many people proudly quitting Facebook and even Instagram, but leaving their Twitter account alone when, by far, it is the worst of the bunch.
You don't like messed up algorithms?
Name a more ridiculous algorithm than Twitter's.
I'll wait.
You can't.
Your platform could never...be this bad.
The other day I had to block someone--not because they were bothering me--but because even though I don't follow them I kept seeing their statuses, because other people kept liking those statuses.
I don't care what the people I follow like. I care about what the people I follow post.
And you know what I never see on Twitter?
Posts from the people I follow.
It's mostly just sponsored content and Twitter blowing up my feed by throwing other people under the bus.
Oh sure, this happens on Facebook too, but Twitter is the king of stirring the pot and blaming it on their tech.
ME: Twitter, why are you showing me that my Uncle Nick liked this post from a Conservative thinktank?
TWITTER: :: Meme from Batman Explaining That Some Men Just Want to Watch the World Burn ::
I don't need that.
I really don't.
Twitter has--and has always had--the worst interface. The worst user experience. The weirdest rules when it comes to who can post what and why. Many serious social media users (I know, I laughed too typing that out) have already given up on the platform entirely.
But you know who hasn't?
A very specific brand of gay man that is slowly morphing into a cult of personality that is starting to resemble one of those futuristic gangs in The Warriors.
If you're wondering what their signature attributes are, I'll try to list them here, but none of them have ALL of these, which I think is a protective mechanism that makes them harder to pin down.
CHARACTERISTICS:
- They support Sanders in that way that people accuse Sanders supporters of being even though a lot of them aren't that way? To be clear, I like Senator Sanders, but these gays don't seem to actually know anything about him or his platform. They know he's an outsider and they love outsiders because they see themselves as outsiders although outside of what is...I guess the great unanswered question. It's about being a contrarian at all costs, and crafting your identity your contrarianism rather than discovering that your views fit a contrarian model. There's nothing shocking about saying that gay men would feel like outsiders, but part of being an outsider is being authentically unique, and I swear, you can't tell most of these men apart. Everything about them is performative, and it's performative in a very controlled and conforming way. You know exactly what they're going to say and how they're going to say it, so that even when it's clever and insightful, it's phrased in a way that's predictable and sounds like it was designed to be used a soundbyte on a reality television show or in a Vulture recap.
- They seem to think they are the deciders of what's mainstream, what's camp, what's fringe, what stuff you can love ironically and what stuff you can't love ironically, and all of this changes from day-to-day and god help you if you get it wrong on any given day, because they will drag you. You will not be educated. They have no interest in discourse. Hit them with logic, and you're getting GIF-ed, Meme-ed, or their favorite go-to "Let Me Bring Up the One Time You Wanted to Sleep With Me and I Turned You Down Which Means in the Gay Hierarchy I Will Now Be Forever Above You."
Sidenote: If they have, in fact, slept with you--they'll immediately pivot to "It wasn't good." Doesn't matter if it happened a thousand times. Nothing matters. There are no rules. This is the Wild Gay West. Slut-shaming is also very much on the table even though--
- They're unnecessarily graphic when it comes to posting about sex. Now, let me be clear, nobody likes talking about sex more than I do, but their messaging is always "Sex doesn't matter. Sex is meaningless." And the reason they feel that way is because it's very important they maintain the attitude that everything is meaningless. These gays are the people we thought we left behind in the early aughts who used to criticize a singer or actor or anyone with that withering attack of "They're trying too hard." That's why they have to get followers by doing things that project the dual message of "I spent way twelve hours learning all the words to Sweetener backwards" and "I just thought this would be fun to do, but whatever, I was bored, watch it if you want, who cares?" They never show emotion. They occasionally self-deprecate, but it's usually just fishing for compliments, and it's immediately followed up by a thirst pic. That brings us to the next attribute--
- They get really, really mad if you accuse them of needing validation from social media. You can't even accuse them of liking social media. That would imply they care about something or that they put effort into something, and please refer to the previous section to find out why that would be a problem. You're also never allowed to accuse them of being shallow or of letting shallowness affect their behavior. Yes, if you criticize them and you're hot, you are probably getting a DM so you two can work it out. If you criticize them and they're not attracted to you, prepare to get nuked.
- They live for hot takes. If a take isn't hot, they want nothing to do with it. How they feel about anything is directly proportionate to how everybody else feels about it, and who those people are. They are the next generation of hipsters, and yes, most of them live in Brooklyn. The wild part--actually there are many wild parts, but--the wildest part is that many of them are involved with institutions or occupations that are very mainstream, because they actually care A LOT about being liked by A LOT of people. They're all fame-hungry, which--I mean, we all are, but the protestation on their part about how little something like fame would matter to them is laughable. It's why so many of them end up getting cancelled. Because walking that fine line between doing anything for attention while pretending you don't care if people like you while also really needing people to like you while spending most of your life on a platform that is constantly trying to kick your feet out from under you is an untenable existence.
Oh, and they also need to remind you all the time that they hate other gay people despite the fact that they seem to only interact on Twitter with other gay people and all their content is aimed directly at gay people and features other gay people and it's guaranteed to bring about gay exhaustion.
The only reason it's even worth writing about is that this particular kind of gay man is slowly taking over every facet of popular culture and instilling that blasé attitude all over the place.
They all have podcasts.
They all have deals with HBO.
They all get to write for online magazines I've never heard of about a hook-up in 2011 that went bad because the guy turned out to be a Senator.
Am I jealous?
Absolutely.
A hundred percent.
I mean, listen, most of them are fairly attractive. All of them have more followers than I do on a platform I, for the life of me, cannot understand, despite having been on it since it was created. And I'm sure if I was ever in the vicinity of any of these people, they would look at me the way Meryl looks at Anne Hathaway the first time she walks into the Runway Magazine.
And I do fit some of the criteria I just listed?
Totally.
But it concerns me that maybe I've tried leaning into that criteria lately to get ahead on Twitter. It worries me that I find myself mimicking that detached-yet-TMI tone that seems to go over so well. It freaks me out that I'm trying to copy a brand of humor that I don't even find funny, not because it's not my cup of tea, but because when you really break it down, it's actually devoid of comedy.
I'm worried that Twitter--having been around the longest and still really popular despite what you may be hearing--has influenced how all of us behave online, especially when it comes to the people running the tribe we find ourselves in.
It's crazy to me the difference between what's accepted on Facebook versus Twitter. I could never get away with saying some of the stuff I say on Twitter anywhere else. One time, I tried posting the same thing on both platforms and people asked me if I was having a nervous breakdown. (That time I wasn't, but it was interesting to see how poorly my admittedly repulsive and sardonic thoughts fared on the app everyone is deleting from their phone while on Twitter, I was getting nothing but high fives.)
As someone who felt very proud to be gay, but also not quite in touch with what other gay people were thinking or feeling, I was scared for a long time to talk about how gay people alienate one another in an effort to assimilate into the broader culture while still maintaining their pride.
I'm as guilty of it as anyone, and admittedly, writing this means I probably feel as strongly as I do, because I'm getting older, and I haven't figured most of this out now, I probably never will.
I just know that when I came out in high school, I had nothing but positive ideas of what it meant to be gay. It meant being unashamed to be loud and emotional and funny and warm. Obviously not everybody can embody that, but to see people resist it so forcefully is disappointing to me.
I'd love to find a way to say all this on Twitter, but they don't give you the platform to speak for this long and with this amount of vulnerability.
So maybe we should be asking exactly what kind of voice a platform like that is meant to raise up?
It's funny to see so many people proudly quitting Facebook and even Instagram, but leaving their Twitter account alone when, by far, it is the worst of the bunch.
You don't like messed up algorithms?
Name a more ridiculous algorithm than Twitter's.
I'll wait.
You can't.
Your platform could never...be this bad.
The other day I had to block someone--not because they were bothering me--but because even though I don't follow them I kept seeing their statuses, because other people kept liking those statuses.
I don't care what the people I follow like. I care about what the people I follow post.
And you know what I never see on Twitter?
Posts from the people I follow.
It's mostly just sponsored content and Twitter blowing up my feed by throwing other people under the bus.
Oh sure, this happens on Facebook too, but Twitter is the king of stirring the pot and blaming it on their tech.
ME: Twitter, why are you showing me that my Uncle Nick liked this post from a Conservative thinktank?
TWITTER: :: Meme from Batman Explaining That Some Men Just Want to Watch the World Burn ::
I don't need that.
I really don't.
Twitter has--and has always had--the worst interface. The worst user experience. The weirdest rules when it comes to who can post what and why. Many serious social media users (I know, I laughed too typing that out) have already given up on the platform entirely.
But you know who hasn't?
A very specific brand of gay man that is slowly morphing into a cult of personality that is starting to resemble one of those futuristic gangs in The Warriors.
If you're wondering what their signature attributes are, I'll try to list them here, but none of them have ALL of these, which I think is a protective mechanism that makes them harder to pin down.
CHARACTERISTICS:
- They support Sanders in that way that people accuse Sanders supporters of being even though a lot of them aren't that way? To be clear, I like Senator Sanders, but these gays don't seem to actually know anything about him or his platform. They know he's an outsider and they love outsiders because they see themselves as outsiders although outside of what is...I guess the great unanswered question. It's about being a contrarian at all costs, and crafting your identity your contrarianism rather than discovering that your views fit a contrarian model. There's nothing shocking about saying that gay men would feel like outsiders, but part of being an outsider is being authentically unique, and I swear, you can't tell most of these men apart. Everything about them is performative, and it's performative in a very controlled and conforming way. You know exactly what they're going to say and how they're going to say it, so that even when it's clever and insightful, it's phrased in a way that's predictable and sounds like it was designed to be used a soundbyte on a reality television show or in a Vulture recap.
- They seem to think they are the deciders of what's mainstream, what's camp, what's fringe, what stuff you can love ironically and what stuff you can't love ironically, and all of this changes from day-to-day and god help you if you get it wrong on any given day, because they will drag you. You will not be educated. They have no interest in discourse. Hit them with logic, and you're getting GIF-ed, Meme-ed, or their favorite go-to "Let Me Bring Up the One Time You Wanted to Sleep With Me and I Turned You Down Which Means in the Gay Hierarchy I Will Now Be Forever Above You."
Sidenote: If they have, in fact, slept with you--they'll immediately pivot to "It wasn't good." Doesn't matter if it happened a thousand times. Nothing matters. There are no rules. This is the Wild Gay West. Slut-shaming is also very much on the table even though--
- They're unnecessarily graphic when it comes to posting about sex. Now, let me be clear, nobody likes talking about sex more than I do, but their messaging is always "Sex doesn't matter. Sex is meaningless." And the reason they feel that way is because it's very important they maintain the attitude that everything is meaningless. These gays are the people we thought we left behind in the early aughts who used to criticize a singer or actor or anyone with that withering attack of "They're trying too hard." That's why they have to get followers by doing things that project the dual message of "I spent way twelve hours learning all the words to Sweetener backwards" and "I just thought this would be fun to do, but whatever, I was bored, watch it if you want, who cares?" They never show emotion. They occasionally self-deprecate, but it's usually just fishing for compliments, and it's immediately followed up by a thirst pic. That brings us to the next attribute--
- They get really, really mad if you accuse them of needing validation from social media. You can't even accuse them of liking social media. That would imply they care about something or that they put effort into something, and please refer to the previous section to find out why that would be a problem. You're also never allowed to accuse them of being shallow or of letting shallowness affect their behavior. Yes, if you criticize them and you're hot, you are probably getting a DM so you two can work it out. If you criticize them and they're not attracted to you, prepare to get nuked.
- They live for hot takes. If a take isn't hot, they want nothing to do with it. How they feel about anything is directly proportionate to how everybody else feels about it, and who those people are. They are the next generation of hipsters, and yes, most of them live in Brooklyn. The wild part--actually there are many wild parts, but--the wildest part is that many of them are involved with institutions or occupations that are very mainstream, because they actually care A LOT about being liked by A LOT of people. They're all fame-hungry, which--I mean, we all are, but the protestation on their part about how little something like fame would matter to them is laughable. It's why so many of them end up getting cancelled. Because walking that fine line between doing anything for attention while pretending you don't care if people like you while also really needing people to like you while spending most of your life on a platform that is constantly trying to kick your feet out from under you is an untenable existence.
Oh, and they also need to remind you all the time that they hate other gay people despite the fact that they seem to only interact on Twitter with other gay people and all their content is aimed directly at gay people and features other gay people and it's guaranteed to bring about gay exhaustion.
The only reason it's even worth writing about is that this particular kind of gay man is slowly taking over every facet of popular culture and instilling that blasé attitude all over the place.
They all have podcasts.
They all have deals with HBO.
They all get to write for online magazines I've never heard of about a hook-up in 2011 that went bad because the guy turned out to be a Senator.
Am I jealous?
Absolutely.
A hundred percent.
I mean, listen, most of them are fairly attractive. All of them have more followers than I do on a platform I, for the life of me, cannot understand, despite having been on it since it was created. And I'm sure if I was ever in the vicinity of any of these people, they would look at me the way Meryl looks at Anne Hathaway the first time she walks into the Runway Magazine.
And I do fit some of the criteria I just listed?
Totally.
But it concerns me that maybe I've tried leaning into that criteria lately to get ahead on Twitter. It worries me that I find myself mimicking that detached-yet-TMI tone that seems to go over so well. It freaks me out that I'm trying to copy a brand of humor that I don't even find funny, not because it's not my cup of tea, but because when you really break it down, it's actually devoid of comedy.
I'm worried that Twitter--having been around the longest and still really popular despite what you may be hearing--has influenced how all of us behave online, especially when it comes to the people running the tribe we find ourselves in.
It's crazy to me the difference between what's accepted on Facebook versus Twitter. I could never get away with saying some of the stuff I say on Twitter anywhere else. One time, I tried posting the same thing on both platforms and people asked me if I was having a nervous breakdown. (That time I wasn't, but it was interesting to see how poorly my admittedly repulsive and sardonic thoughts fared on the app everyone is deleting from their phone while on Twitter, I was getting nothing but high fives.)
As someone who felt very proud to be gay, but also not quite in touch with what other gay people were thinking or feeling, I was scared for a long time to talk about how gay people alienate one another in an effort to assimilate into the broader culture while still maintaining their pride.
I'm as guilty of it as anyone, and admittedly, writing this means I probably feel as strongly as I do, because I'm getting older, and I haven't figured most of this out now, I probably never will.
I just know that when I came out in high school, I had nothing but positive ideas of what it meant to be gay. It meant being unashamed to be loud and emotional and funny and warm. Obviously not everybody can embody that, but to see people resist it so forcefully is disappointing to me.
I'd love to find a way to say all this on Twitter, but they don't give you the platform to speak for this long and with this amount of vulnerability.
So maybe we should be asking exactly what kind of voice a platform like that is meant to raise up?
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