Let Twitter Be Twitter
These people threaten to destroy one of the internet’s nicest things. Twitter is a happy accident, a fortuity, a quirk.
These people threaten to destroy one of the internet’s nicest things. Twitter is a happy accident, a fortuity, a quirk.
You could get this book now if you had a time machine. Then again, if you had a time machine you wouldn’t need the book.
“Gravity is weak,” Feynman said. “In fact, it’s damned weak.”
“Ghosts were seen when, for reasons unknown, they inadvertently slipped from their allotted time into the present.”
Is the public library as anachronistic as the record store, the telephone booth, and the Playboy centerfold?
Coming in September.
Increasing numbers of Twitterers don’t even pretend to be human. Or worse, do pretend, when they are actually bots—tiny, skeletal, incapable robots, usually little more than a few crude lines of computer code. The scary thing is how easily we can be fooled.
You know. You’ve known as long as you can remember.