There is no Such Thing as The Worst Tweet Ever

But there is such a thing as “the worst article ever” and if you would like a peek — click here.

It’s the rather volatile piece conceived by Brian Raftery — a writer at WIRED who took great offense at the tweet Femme_Esq shared that basically captured her mood at that moment in time.

An alligator had just allegedly snatched a toddler as his father lost his battle to save his son from the jaws of a giant lizard.

We also were in the throes of understanding how a vibrant young singer could be shot in the head after her concert while a beloved neighborhood staple in the same city was being attacked by a raging lunatic with bullets to spare.

I’m pretty certain that the breaking news on social media is responsible for the reactivation of unhealthy old habits.

It’s hard to not be turmoiled and torn apart by the images and captions that do a very good job at forcing us to try as hard as fuck to develop a thicker skin.

If your feels get highlighted each time you are reminded how much more shifty the world can be — you might end up in the ICU.

I remember the alligator story being the last thing that rocked me to bed that night. I was shocked and dismayed as anyone would be. I was also arrested by the visions of the scared child being crushed by his captor — as the last thing thing he sees is the face of his horrified father — as he he is taken to the underwater lair.

I thought about what I would’ve done. I saw myself diving after my child and being prepared to either sacrifice my life for his or dying with him.

The agony of being tormented by the misfortunes of victims that you don’t know personally but still warrant your feels can be debilitating. Not to say that your suffering compares to theirs because that’s a ludicrous parallel.

It’s just recognizing the fact that as humans — you tend to not want to hear how the ugly stuff heavily outweighs the good.

I read the tweet Femme_Esq was riddled for by Raftery — and while I agree that it could be perceived as insensitive and insensible — there is an unmistakably dash of exhausted honesty that highlights her thoughts.

She came under attack once the article that scolded her bad judgment went viral. She later issued an apology that contained the usual regret for not thinking before tweeting and allowing emotions to dictate actions.

It’s also believed that she may have been fired from her job as a result of all this mayhem created by a guy who seized a moment and a tweet in order to create his moment.

His strategy worked because most of you have signed up for the duty of following the leader. When he or she demands your allegiance to stoning the perpetrators of the day — you heed the call.

Twitter is an awesome tool for connecting and keeping your dreams and projects alive with the aid of followers and exposure.

It’s also a battlefield that produces evidence that we are all capable of being our worst selves or inspiring the very worst in people.

The tweet heard around the country was an organic reaction to what has to be the most unfathomable occurrence to date.

We are not made of steel and even I had to kick back shots of Tequila almost every night this week and last and the one before that one — in order to guarantee that I would get 3 hours of sleep.

I’ve woken up at 12:49 am and checked Twitter with alarmed disgust and posted stuff about how white guys are inhumanly callous which explains why they are always deemed mentally unstable — when they are really just that demonic.

Do I believe that? No. Yes! No…

The point is that your state of mind can urge you to just go for it! And now we have the ability and the freedom to do just that.

But then we’re punished.

How does that work? How does some writer get to decide that what I tweet about surpasses the laws of understanding and tolerance? How does he get to curate my fate without my permission?

If Raftery and others like him truly care and want to assuage the unsettled feelings brought on by a single tweet — why not take the more humane approach?

Why not reach out privately and express your need for an explanation.

That won’t work because nobody will get to read it.

You won’t have the story of a lifetime. You won’t get to be hailed a hero for saving Twitter from the monsters that dare to poison its well-manicured landscape.

What a crock of shit!

The very idea that anyone much less a journalist would take it upon himself to play superhero by trying to clean up the social mess we created — is laughable.

We are now at the juncture where anyone is bait. We can’t wait to devour and conquer. We live for the kill. We survive off of the blood that spills over after the angry mob we assembled are done biting and chewing.

I wonder how “the writer of the moment” feels now that he has successfully altered the life of someone he didn’t know well enough to take on that role.

Does he think that he somehow managed to change the rules as it pertains to tweeting out gross and insensitive material?

I’m guessing no.

I’m pretty sure he is aware that Twitter exists for the pleasure of keeping trolls and ill-will writers like himself — very busy.

Going viral creates a virus that we are currently accommodating with open and closed arms.

There is absolutely no such thing as “the very worst tweet ever” because if there was — lot of you would be out of business.

And Twitter would have to surrender to the new kid on the block.

For now we have our tweets and the tweeters who hate or love them.

Or use our words for social gain.

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