Virology (To The Tune of Paula Abdul's "Vibeology")
I went viral on Twitter the other day. And full disclosure: I went semi-viral once before when I said that Ryan Gosling as Ken in the Greta Gerwig Barbie movie looked a lot like Sterling Archer in his “Got Dick?” crop top and roller skates when he was undercover in Miami Beach. But that was, like, 15K likes max. Nothing like this.
This has become The Tweet That Will Not Die, apparently, and has now crossed over to other social media platforms as a screen shot meme.
Most people I know would be over the moon. We all know those people—or, at least, we see them on social media trying desperately to say the right thing at the right time and going viral so they can slap that coveted “Social Media Influencer” badge on themselves and all their bios. And then we all know those people who slap it on there from the get-go, like “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Then all they do is post inspirational memes and philosophical quotes meant to set the tone for your whole day.
I post a lot on Twitter. Mainly stream-of-consciousness, so (like these essays) if it comes up, it comes out. I’m not there to dispense writing advice or hawk my books from the time I wake up to the time I collapse into bed at night. I find both those behaviors tedious at best, and therefore tend to ignore them. I ignore a lot on Twitter and therefore miss a lot, too. I have the majority of the writing hashtags muted and I don’t regret that one bit. I don’t play the writing prompt games or the flash fiction games. Not my bag. Mainly because I save all my writing for my writing, either here or on the manuscript I’ve edited and rewritten seven times over the past three years—but that’s a topic for another essay.
I came here to kvetch about going viral.
And let me be clear: I don’t have a problem with going viral. I feel everyone should go viral at least once in their lives. It’s a surreal experience, to say the least. But if I’m going to go viral with something, I would have liked it to be something original. My own words in some form, or at least something related to my own writing, be it my books or this Substack. Instead, I went viral because I had a deadpan reaction to a fake news story I’d seen on Facebook. I took a screen cap (see photo above), added a comment, and posted to Twitter. I went on about my business. I think I was at work, so I got busy and didn’t think anything about it until I saw that I had over a thousand likes toward the end of the first day.
A hundred likes is a good tweet for me, and those tend to be food-related or dog-related. My recent tweet about our tenth wedding anniversary got over 300 likes and lots of comments wishing us mazel tov. Everything else hovers around 20 to 25, unless it’s book-related, and those get ignored, categorically. People aren’t on Twitter to buy my books, they’re on Twitter to sell me theirs, dig? So, yeah, like I said earlier—I just post whatever comes to mind. Celeste Holm in an episode of The Love Boat wearing a flamboyant blue gown? Check! Is my dog farting on me in his sleep? Twitter gold! (And potentially viral because DOGS!) Did my husband buy pimento cheese and forget the Triscuits? Send. But a tweet about my books? In this economy?
So, I posted my reaction to a fake news story and went viral. Like, stupid viral. Lady Gaga-level viral. But all she has to do is post “Hi,” and her interactions hit the stratosphere.
Another interesting facet of the experience is how many people felt it necessary to comment on the fake news story. A couple were triggered by it, apparently. One person gave a brief lecture on the illegal and unethical farming of public mug shots online. It was then that I muted the thread and moved along. Like, I appreciate all the attention and it was fun while it lasted, but when people start taking a fake news story about a woman threatening Jehovah’s Witnesses with “devil vagina magic” seriously, the magic is over. Then again, it had reached 105K likes a day later, and that was before someone tagged me in a tweet to tell me it had crossed over to Facebook.
This is my legacy, I guess: my deadpan response to a fake news story about Jehovah’s Witnesses and pussy. I feel like I should apologize, but I’m not sure of the right words. Maybe my emotions can best be expressed with another screen cap meme.
Maybe this essay will go viral next. Maybe.
