Good morning! I wish the circumstances were better, but it’s so nice to see so many familiar avatars. Oh, and hello to the Blue subscribers in the front row. I know Twitter would have appreciated your support. We’re gathered here today, of course, to remember our beloved social media platform. Twitter, as we knew it, passed from this earthly realm on October 27th, the day that a billionaire with terrible ideas and a worse sense of humor purchased it.
Personally, I have so much to thank Twitter for. Sure, it rewired my brain into a little tweet factory, constantly auditioning summaries of every unusual thing that happened to me to test their tweet-worthiness. And so what if it turned my attention span into Swiss cheese? Twitter was there for me in some of my most desperate hours, like the time I thought I was going to die in a missile attack in Hawaii or when I confused a laundry hamper for a trash can in a Williamsburg hotel room.
So what if it turned my attention span into Swiss cheese?
Twitter gave us all so much. It helped us keep tabs on Pépito the cat. It allowed us to laugh at and circulate the dumbest jokes imaginable. It united us all in the sheer ecstasy of two llamas evading capture. Sure, there were trolls, the Dilbert guy, hate speech, and takes so bad they made you want to throw your phone into the sea. And if you knew Twitter in the early 2010s, you knew it during its awkward phase. There were earnest hashtags, automatic Foursquare check-ins, and Follow Fridays. Really cringe-worthy stuff.
But it turned into something kind of great. A place where funny weirdos and smart people hung out. Where Vine flourished, rest its soul. Where we could collectively scream in horror after watching the Cats (2019) trailer and cackle at rich people forced to eat bad cheese sandwiches.
The Twitter we knew and loved is in a better place — off to that great server in the sky
It was tough watching Twitter struggle at the end. The confusion, cries for help. It got messy. Who could forget Mario flipping us all the bird? I’ll be dealing with that emotional trauma for a long time. But we can take comfort in knowing that it wasn’t our Twitter. The Twitter we knew and loved is in a better place — off to that great server in the sky, running free with 30–50 feral hogs. That’s the Twitter I’ll remember, and I know all of you will, too.
As a reminder, we’ll be convening on Instagram after this service for coffee and light refreshments. It’s just down the hall — and don’t forget to leave your legacy verified badges at the door on your way out.