It's Okay Not to be Notable: Or, Conservatives, Please Stop Whining about Twitter Checkmarks
On April 20th, because Elon Musk has the sense of humor of a stoned college student alone on a Saturday night, Twitter removed verification (the blue check mark next to your name) indicators from all account snot paying for his Twitter Blue program. Most people and organizations did not switch and thus have no verification badge. Musk himself paid for some very famous people's badges -- Lebron James and Stephen King are the two he has admitted to. The Twitter Blue forced adoption plan is not working well, and a lot of people are openly mocking the concept. Many, many conservatives are not taking this well:
That is nuts, yes, but I think it gets at the heart of some oddities in the conservative community. They care way, way too much about being notable.
I am not notable and thus I did not ever receive or even attempt to receive a twitter blue check. I am a nobody -- I am not personally famous, I work for no organization where it matters if people know that whatever I tweet (bad jokes and links to my blog posts, mostly) comes from who it says it comes from. I don't matter in that way.
And that's fine. Most people aren't notable. Most people are, for the larger world, nobodies. Most people don't have the combination of skill, hard work, circumstances, and good luck that raises to the level of notable. And most people don't care, or at least most people accept it in their daily lives.
But not a lot of conservatives. No, twitter checkmarks were a sign of elite disdain for the common person -- they separated the community into, and I am not kidding here they actually say this, Eloi and Morlochs. To which I can only respond: grow the fsck up.
Twitter checkmarks just said that this account really is Lebron James or a reporter for the NY Times -- it let people know if the famous person or organization was actually the one tweeting out the picture of their lunch or not. Your lack of it just meant you weren't personally famous and/or did not work an organization where it mattered or not if people knew they were dealing with the actual organization. It was not a comment on you as a person, unless you cannot stand the fact that you are not notable.
And that is what the problem here seems to be -- it eats at them that people don't need to know that THE catturd tweeted out the latest inane conspiracy theory about trans people making your milk go sour. (If this works its way into conspiracy theory land, my deepest apologies to trans people. And milk.) They seem convinced that somehow not recognizing them as notable marks them as lesser. I blame Ayn Rand.
See, while I am not notable, I am also not useless. I try and make the better place as I can -- through giving, through volunteering for causes I believe, through these little missives, through trying to model good behavior for my kids, etc., etc. That, after all, is how things get done -- a lot of people working towards a common goal, where that is a political, commercial, or even artistic goal. Very few artists are the product of lone genius. Even people working in non-collaborative spaces are influenced by and react to others in their fields. This is even more true in politics and business. In real life John Galt is your annoying coworker who spends all his time trying to assign blame and getting nothing done.
I matter, even if I am not notable. I matter to the people close to me and to those I try to help. People like catturd and the seventeen thousand people who liked his tweet cannot accept that. To them, mattering means being the hero, being the star, being the focus. If the rest of the world doesn't applaud and put them in the spotlight, that is a grave injustice which can only be the result of jealousy and snobbery. No, my fuzzy little friend, it just means you are a person like the vast, vast majority of people. You might be the star of your life, but the rest of us aren't watching.
Normally, grown-up, adjusted people are fine with that. It's part of life. I am likely never to be notable to the wider world. But I am still going to lean into helping those I can and making the world the best place it can be through my efforts. And together with a few million people like me, we are going to eventually make the changes we want to see. People working together have almost always been the main route to real change. But these people seem to be stuck in the childish mindset that requires they be the sole hero of any and every story. And when reality demonstrates that they are not, they react with the fury of a five-year-old denied candy.
So, catturd and friends, quit your whining. No one wants to listen to it. We are all too busy living our real, meaningful lives.


