Mar 16, 2020 3 min read

I majored in English in college, so when I observe everyday life, my mind often defaults to quotations by my favorite authors or poets. Last week it remembered William Wordsworth:

“The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; –

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!”

You see, I’d been on Twitter.

Now, let me point out that I hate Twitter. But I started using it a year ago as a necessary evil: I released an EP of original songs in August, and Twitter can be a valuable tool for publicity. Certainly, reaching people worldwide yet not leaving home has helped me. But I hate Twitter more now that I’ve been using it because it reminds me that I live in the real world.

And the real world is inflamed.

Twitter displays the slimy underbelly of American society that, until 12 years ago, I thought was dead. I was wrong; racism, prejudice, xenophobia, misogyny, hate and fear were merely sleeping. Now they are wide awake and thriving on Twitter – and Facebook, but that is a topic for another column.

Although at first I tried not to tweet about politics and what’s happening daily in our country, I fell victim to impulses that said I should point out lies and prejudices. But people often don’t like the truth – especially when it conflicts with something they believe in wholeheartedly.

Here’s what happened: Someone posted a picture of President Donald Trump when he visited Tennessee last week in the wake of tornados. The photo was taken from behind, and it showed a wet stain on the back of the president’s pants. “The president is incontinent,” the tweeter speculated.

I believe making fun of Trump or any president when deserved should be an Olympic sport, and face it – they give us plenty of legitimate reasons to do so. But it felt wrong to let this go. I felt the need to chastise, so I responded:

“Understand that Biden and Sanders probably have incontinence. It’s not funny, even if it is Trump. When we post this stuff, we lower the bar even further.”

I thought my message was clear enough: “Sling mud, and you have no right to complain when someone slings it back.”

One person liked this tweet and thanked me. The original poster and a few more responded that it’s OK to laugh at Trump because he holds himself as the perfect physical specimen. “If it’s wrong to make fun of wetting your pants, I don’t want to be right,” said one.

Limbo lower now.

Trying to make a point on social media is like arguing with a drunk. I know this but – like Michael Corleone in “The Godfather, Part III” – I got sucked back in.

It has been my practice on Facebook for 10 years to never comment on religion, politics or any controversial subject. I’m extending the practice to Twitter.

Oh, I’ll still tweet.

But I’ll no longer be a twit.