A Mastodon social media account I’d created five, or, six years ago (and, long neglected) has again caught my attention.
While Twitter may be burning, a lot of folks I know –in real life, and otherwise– are there fiddling away as vine-riddled arches crumble and travertine façades crash to the ground. I’m there too, lurking in a corner, wringing my hands, and checking the thermometer every eight minutes.
Over at Mastodon, there is a distinct 1999 feel. People (and others) poking around, stretching their micro-blogging wings as if for the first time. I am reminded of Oscar Wilde’s line about committing again the mistakes of one’s youth as an attempt to remain young. Hey, I’m not adverse to wearing rose-tinted glasses from time to time.