What does Finkle being Einhorn have to do with anything? Well, nothing. But when I hear it in my head, it makes me smile. Besides, I think it’s a completely appropriate thing to say when unearthing a frustrating realization. So here’s my realization.
I’m going to join Twitter.
Dammit all to Hell! Finkle is Einhorn! There. I feel better. And I’m not joining now. But it’s going to happen. I know because I’ve been to the sign-up page twice in the last week, and sat scowling at it for thirty, forty seconds. Why do I hate it? Mostly because the first time I heard of it was when news coverage reported that members of congress were tweeting at inappropriate times, like during Presidential Addresses and such. It left a bad taste in my mouth that not even Tang can clear.
But, since then, I’ve discovered that there are some very interesting people tweeting very interesting things, and I’ve had fun stalking them as an anonymous non-user. I sort of don’t want to put the effort into all that stalking. Joining and just following them makes more sense. So I’m joining.
In ten years.
Damn you, Twitter. Finkle is Einhorn.