Blue Skies and Greener Pastures

Okay, so, here’s the thing. I am a verbose young man with many words in my heart and nothing but my own exhaustion to stop me from transcribing those words from my heart into a hastily-opened Google Doc. I am not as exhausted now, so let’s talk about microblogging platforms such as Twitter and Threads and the Tinder biography section. I hate them. Why must I condense the vastness of my thoughts and observations into trite, bite-sized posts that do not exemplify the full complexity of what is going on in the slab of electric meat that is my brain? It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. Why can’t the average reader just gain the attention span to be able to read more than 200-300 characters in one sitting? (Myself included. This cannot be the same brain that would read a novel a day in middle school.)

With the Great Migration from Twitland (Twooter? Twixer?) to something called Bluesky, I have found myself at a crossroads of sorts. On one hand, I never much liked Twitter in the first place. It’s headed by a megalomaniac with some serious misconceptions about political neutrality and healthy boundaries in his interpersonal relationships. On the other hand, I need to ask myself if my dislike for Twitter extends only as far as political discourse, or if it’s just harmful to my ego. Why is it that on Facebook, I can get hundreds of likes on a dank meme or an exciting announcement about my personal life, but on Twitter my most-liked post is me saying that circumcision is kind of messed up? Why is it that most of my notifications on Twitter are just porn bots trying to capitalize on my incalculable yearning, not knowing that I’m not horny, just lonely? Will I feel popular on Bluesky, or will I be yet another fish out of water, microblogging aimlessly into a deep, dark, porn-bot-filled abyss? God, I hope there aren’t any porn bots. I’ve seen too many vaginas on the internet.

I’m excited by the opportunity to migrate over to unplowed farmland. I feel like a true pioneer migrating west except without having to commit the crime of driving thousands of natives off their land. I feel like I might be able to get a foothold on Bluesky, and rise to the level of niche internet microcelebrity I’ve been able to attain on Facebook. But, again, I really hate microblogging, and the algorithms have been very unkind to me. Perhaps there’s a new beginning to be found over at Bluesky. After all, Elongated Muskrat’s Twotter algorithms have been known to prioritize extremist conservative content, and I am not one of those things. Is Bluesky the respite I’ve been looking for, the chance to grow a brand without worrying about someone’s racist uncle Chad telling me that windmills cause cancer or some porn bot showing me clearly AI-generated breasts? Lord knows. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before the russian bots come to Bluesky and begin to sow disinformation. Until then, there’s an opportunity to build a new community. I’m excited to try.

You can find my Bluesky handle here. As you can see, I’m already popping out with four whole followers (total subject to change as I post more unhinged things and those followers trickle out). If you want to see pictures of the soup I made, or the nutria I met at the Charles Bridge, by all means give me a follow, and I’ll try my best to follow you back. Until then, I’ll be fumbling around on Vocal for as long as it takes me to make my millions.