How I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb.

It used to be that I held my breath and was hurt by every negative comment that I encountered on the web. Well, not any more. I yawn when someone tweets something negative about me or something that I dearly care for. Their bombs have simply become duds. 

I have been an avid user of the net since its nascence. Those were the days when BBS and mailing lists were at the forefront of what were considered new and exciting. The misanthropes and bomb-droppers were those who would abruptly write something nasty, just to attract attention to themselves, or to make everybody around uncomfortable.

And those creatures often succeeded, much to our dismay. The well-meaning fellows would often intervene, which resulted, almost without a single exception, in an ever escalating calamity. For the bastards, the well-meaning comments and efforts of reconciliations were just fuels to boost their malicious ego trip. I have seen many BBS and mailing lists going to the dogs through such a process.

We should not forget what a great invention twitter has been. There, the malicious comments can be largely left to themselves. The stupid tweets physically exist, but not so much socially. There is a selection pressure, in which those who tweet for benefit and substance would attract more followers. Even if you want to have an ego trip on the twitter, chances are that you won’t be able to ride on a big wave. Only ripples from the like-minded would soak your feet.

So, that’s how I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb. The culture of mutually assured humiliation still exists on the web, but it does not really matter any more. We can now stop worrying about trivialities of human vice and start worrying about things of real importance.

Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove.