Gone are the days you could merely cull the eggs. Now the eggs have hatched, revealing the gooey but familiar image they contained, making a sound not unlike a random profile generator. It's a lot like someone describing themselves, but lacking any real sense. You can tell it's not real because, while people make mistakes, these mistakes are the wrong sort.
They come across as nonsensical rather than stupid.
It had been a while since I checked my list of followers on twitter, largely because I don't care. I only started on twitter as a way of making fun of it but it manged to out-wit me. My intention was to periodically baa like a sheep. Twitter doesn't let you make the same post over and over again. I gave in. I started to make real comments. Frustratingly short ones, but still real ones.
Should I be sad that a spammy spambot sometimes generates more interesting and amusing profiles than a real human? As I was going through the list, blocking eleven apparently fake followers in a row, I felt a strange sense of loss mingling with the usual hatred. Sure, most of it was just obvious gibberish. (eg. "Favorite movie - Woman in the Window, The" or claims to be 230 years old.) But other parts have a decided ring of Engrish to them. Who doesn't love Engrish?
Check out Hetta, who "thinks [they're] 353"! What does someone who thinks they're 353 years old have to say about their life? Well, "received, genial and refreshing, because of Tortoise." That's right. It's all because of Tortoise. I've spent almost 20 years on the internet now. That no longer surprises me. It just sounds normal.
Witness the pathos of "hornbarger": "I'm bungling and trifling." That's very sad. But he goes on: "Also disparaged, heartbreaking and 246." Well, old soul, at least you're not heartbroken. So it could be worse. And look at the bright side: "Interviewed." I like the way that's put out there as a single word. It's very mysterious.
It's not until we get down to "weldy" that we find a little bit of confidence. Did I say a little? I meant a lot: "Me: laudable and deserving." Deserving of what? In the end, you were blocked. I like to think you deserved that.
It's right back to the downers with "Lucien": "I'm unaccountable and grotesque. Also 21." That's brilliant the way you show your unaccountability by unaccountably tacking on your age. Can you continue being unaccountable by making a rhyme? "Allocated, perspicacious and done." Yes! And - unaccountably - you weren't done. That's a work of art right there.
I'm going to miss my followers. They were spambots, but they were austere and icy. Oh wait. That's just "Alister". Never mind.
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