What Now?

| July 9, 2017 | 0 Comments

Twitterati

I’ve finally figured out why, when I’m a proven, award-winning winning writer, I’m stlll not rich and famous:

I have utterly failed to master the “art” of the tweet.

You have to hand it to tweeters: like Mr, Trump, you get to issue a completely untrue, rash notion (“… the United States is the highest taxed nation in the world!”) and are rarely required – or inspired – to correct (“…among 35 world economies, we rank in the middle or near the bottom, per the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development).”

Well, at least he gets stuff out of his system.

So, consider truthiness. Unless we’re writing fiction, semi-brilliant writers like me always tell the truth – or, at least the truth as we see it. Oh! I feel a truthful tweet coming: “Why does Melania always wear dresses a few sizes too small?”

Well, that’s a mean – albeit true – tweet, but, hey, I’m just a beginner.

Non-tweet writing would have me thoughtfully considering likely answers, seeking expert opinions: denial: so she’s gained a few pounds; wifely-ness: the dress is Donald’s favorite; thriftiness: her fave designer clothes are sooo expensive.
Voila! Had this issue been deeply researched, as would be my practice, I might even have earned yet another award.

To show how acceptable – not necessarily respectable – twitterati has become, consider Jeff Bezos, whose Amazon has by now delivered to him $84 billion (at last count), surely enabling him to communicate with the world in any way he chose. Yet, he chose to twitter when inviting philanthropic ideas from the public. He sought ideas for projects, he tweeted, to “help people at the intersection of urgent need and lasting impact…” Here’s a guy who can buy a double-truck New York Times ad every day for a year (to say nothing of a monthly in the Presidio Sentinel), and he seeks to tweet – even though, I can’t imagine making money-offering decisions on the basis of a tweet – even a truthful one (hear that, Donald?).

For all our fear of, disappointment in Trump, maybe his penchant for tweeting is the most unnerving. While too often reckless and erratic, it’s his impetuous, petty game. He urgently needs – or ought to have – a smidgen of thoughtfulness and craft before hitting “go!” And, tweeting still takes time. Time that would be better spent filling the few hundred vacant White House jobs. Now, that really takes time and attention. And, that’s the truth!

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