On Running Away

I tossed off a tweet when I was making breakfast the other day:

Advice on leaving (your place of birth, social media platforms, etc.): Make sure you’re running toward something, and not just away from something! ✨

What prompted it was I was cooking breakfast, and reflecting on my move from Atlanta to Los Angeles a few years ago, and then from Los Angeles to New York City. When I told my family about the first move, my dad was curious why, and shared something along those lines. He was nudging for details and trying to understand my mindset – was I hurting? Worn down? Desperate? Or alive, seeking, hopeful? It stuck with me. And luckily the second move was much higher on the “running toward” than the “running away” side of things.

I was also thinking of a certain website that’s been in the news lately for leaning into some of its worst qualities. I’m one of the lucky people with a small, friendly following that generally has a great experience. I see many people who seem increasingly frazzled and broken by theirs, though. I don’t feel it directly, but I can understand it. It’s valid, as all emotions are.

I think the part of the advice above that I love the most is the attitude it implies – positive, constructive, optimistic. Reminds me in a slant way of the current tag line for Alan Jacobs’ blog:

More lighting of candles, less cursing the darkness

I’d always want to leave with a promise of something better, not a curse on the past. I’m open to the idea that Mastodon or Post or Hive or whatever is a better Twitter than Twitter. And I hope if (when?) I leave I’ve got a good vision of what “better” looks like. Eventually every escape will come to rest, and when you look around, it helps to have some standards to measure by.

Similar to Amy Poehler’s perspective I shared a few years ago:

I see life as like being attacked by a bear. You can run, you can pretend to be dead, or you can make yourself bigger.

I don’t want to wear out my shoes fooling myself. What will make me bigger? It may not be another app. I’ve got time to think it over. I hope you do, too.

Internet writers live on Twitter and it greatly distorts their understanding of reality.

Nobody Is On Twitter.

As someone who loves Twitter, this can be hard to admit, but ultimately Twitter is an ephemeral online forum that nobody really uses, and our tiny politics subpocket of Twitterdom almost certainly has no effect on anything.

A MARTA story in tweets from @lainshakespeare

So jealous of Lain Shakespeare’s Atlanta moment:

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Audience as affordance: Twitter versus Facebook — Remains of the Day

In reference to Matt Haughey’s essay:

What could I possibly write as a status update that would be interesting to my father, one of my coworkers from my first job out of college, the friend of a friend who met me at a pub crawl and friended me, and someone who followed me because of a blog post I wrote about technology? This odd assortment of people all friended me on Facebook because they know me, and that doesn’t feel like a natural audience for any content except random life updates, like relationship status changes, the birth of children, job changes, the occasional photo so people know what you look like now. So unlike Haughey, what I struggle with about Facebook is not the constraint to be consistent with a single conception of myself, it’s the struggle to target content to match multiple versions of myself.

Audience as affordance: Twitter versus Facebook — Remains of the Day

This just in: Neuroimaging researchers discover the area of the brain responsible for overinterpreting scientific results.

@MattTheGr8. My previous post made me remember this. Genius.