Cashing In My Chips

My first thought when read (at the end of a long day of work) that Elon Musk had purchased Twitter, was some measure of disbelief. I’m almost embarrassed to admit the second thought that popped into my head after reading the news. Yep, it is definitely with some shame that I tell you my disbelief was quickly followed by relief. I’m aware that may be surprising. It surprised me, too.

I’m not certain that I’ve ever really spent much time writing about Elon Musk, but my feelings toward the man are not very positive. I have spent a lot of time (maybe too much) writing about Twitter, and its many faults. Recently, I took a Lenten break from Twitter and, when I came back, found it pretty unappealing. Someone once joked that the game of Twitter was to not be the person who was being talked about on Twitter on any given day. On the day I came back — Easter Sunday — that person (or those people, rather) was a crew of zealous, evangelistic Christians singing songs about Jesus on an airplane. My whole timeline was filled with what the extremely online call “takes” about this incident. It didn’t leave me wanting more. After seeing recommendations from Twitter, which, as usual, seemed designed to spark outrage, I felt even less inclined to log in. So, I just haven’t been on the platform much during this Eastertide.

In the midst of my neglect of the Twitter timeline, though, one thing that has been weighing on my mind is Twitter’s financial future. You see, I’m a TWTR shareholder, conflicted about my distrust of the platform and being financially intertwined with its fate. I have been waiting for a chance to sell my shares at a reasonable price and get out. I now have a way to cash in my chips, not having gained much over the years, but at least some. If I wanted to wash my hands of the whole affair, I could be done with Twitter today. It is somewhat liberating.

When I started writing this post, I thought I was probably mostly alone in my feelings. Then I read this from M.G. Seigler.

And with the market now in a state of turbulence, the chaos of Elon Musk must have in some ways felt welcoming. A chokehold that felt like a warm embrace.

I can’t come up with a better metaphor than “a chokehold that felt like a warm embrace.” An online place that I used to love has fallen into the hands of a billionaire with an ax to grind, and I feel fine.

Canned Dragons by Robert Rackley
Made with in North Carolina
© Canned Dragons