Breaking news: the Library of Congress is creating a new archive specifically for Twitter, which will house EVERY TWEET EVER TWEETED. Meaning that anything I (or Rachel, or YOU) have ever put on Twitter will be there. This is not how I imagined I would get into the Library of Congress. Not that I ever fantasized about the LoC, but you know, it’s got every book published in America, so presumably I’d be there if I ever sold a book.
But I haven’t sold a book, I’ve just said some tremendously silly things on Twitter. I don’t know about you, perhaps your tweets consist of well-considered critiques of Thackeray or multi-part explanations of Garbuzov zones. Mine are more along the lines of “Johnny Weir is writing a book! #wheredoibuy” and “Why aren’t I sleeping? OMG!” It’s bad enough that several strangers have begun following me over the past few days, two of whom are grown women with crushes on Justin Bieber (a topic deserving of its own post). I understand what you’re trying to do, Library of Congress –– housing such a huge archive of immediate thought is a psychohistorical goldmine –– but let’s be real, the majority of Twitter writings amount to nothing but the intellectual disappointment of The Future. Seen all at once, Americans will come off as inane starhuggers (what, were you expecting me to say something else?) who love making #iTampon jokes and Justin Bieber, that moptopped pubescent, will be remembered for far longer than he ever should be, not unlike Flavor Flav or Mario Lopez.
In the meantime, I’ve got some Thackeray to get to.