Elon Musk is a typical Twitter user, except for one thing

Musk’s acquisition was more than crazy on a platform where the main obsession for many users is the site itself. The Twitter text box still prompts each user with the question “What’s going on?” What happens, invariably, is that they look at Twitter. This simple fact accounts for perhaps 99 percent of the malice, which is rarely related to events in the outside world and often to the content of other tweets. Almost everyone who uses Twitter feels like they’re being bullied in some way, but they can’t stop watching. And one of the twisted facts about it is that the more power and followers a person accumulates, the more they run the risk of becoming an example of everything that is wrong in the world – nothing more than the winner of the whole game of global capitalism. Unsurprisingly, Musk thinks there’s still value to be unlocked: He loves the site, even though his experience with it is likely terrible.

And since Musk is the single richest person on the planet, it’s easy for many to believe that it’s not about wanting to renovate and renovate the “digital town square” but about something more nefarious or stupid. Some, including second richest person on the planetJeff Bezos – speculated that Tesla’s presence in the Chinese market will actually make it more censored under Musk’s property. Others are worried that he now owns the journalists’ DMs; some people think it’s fun. Some fear it will bring back former President Donald Trump, another billionaire active on the platform; many others find the idea inspiring. He has stated a desire to curb bot accounts, which probably seems more of a problem to you when you have 85.4 million followers and are tweeting about cryptocurrencies and stock prices and the numbers 420 and 69. On Monday people kept posting unflattering pictures of him — from working with PayPal or standing next to Ghislaine Maxwell — joking that this would be the last day they could get away with it.

And that’s what’s so unsettling about acquiring it: the strong feeling that – even in the most innocuous – it’s an act of vanity, a means to improve the personal experience of one user of the agora. And there is something in this. Musk oozes desperation to be seen as funny, a disease that no amount of money can cure and perhaps his most characteristic quality. His performance on Saturday Night Live was painful to watch, even by today’s SNL standards in particular. his monologue, which was full of exciting “be good to me” defense mechanisms: the announcement that he was the first carrier with Asperger’s Syndrome; the appearance of his mother, who hugged him and said she loved him; and a statement about his vision for the future: “I believe in the future of renewable energy; I believe that humanity should become a multi-planet space civilization.”

After this part, he paused: “These seem to be exciting goals, don’t they? Now I think if I just post it on Twitter, I’ll be fine. But I also write things like “69 days after 4/20 again, haha” – actual post dated June 28, 2020, which actually happened 69 days after April 20 – “I don’t know, I thought it was funny. That’s why I wrote “haha” at the end. Look, I know I sometimes say or post weird things, but that’s how my brain works. To everyone I’ve offended, I just want to say: I’ve reinvented electric cars and I’m sending people to Mars in a rocket. You thought I’d be a cold, normal dude too?

Never before has the mentality of Twitter users been so accurately described: I know that you may not like my jokes, but you have to understand that I’m really cool. The capital markets have generously rewarded Musk for all this; Twitter, the birthplace of the guillotine meme, has none—or at least unevenly. But because of the former, any dissatisfaction with the latter by Musk could potentially change what we have closest to a digital town square. It is not clear that in this changing of the guard one can mourn, except, perhaps, that it can happen at all.