As I hit the pillow, up popped a notification: ‘Threads’, Meta’s new offering, is available to download. My heart thumped – I’ve been excited about this launch since I first heard of it. As a frustrated influencer, and somebody who couldn’t care less what Mark Zuckerberg or Elon Musk are doing to each other, I don’t care about the politics. I just thought Threads could be just right for me. And social media is all about me, me, me, obviously.
It’s easy to take a photograph of myself. I do it a lot. But Twitter is a different kind of vanity – for people who aren’t necessarily obsessed with images. That’s why I’ve always felt tentative about it. Threads will be better, I say to myself, as the app downloads.
Is this what having a child is like? I have inherited a weird, woke Zuckerbaby to care for and grow
Well, first impressions are brilliant. It is easy to use and faultlessly integrates with Instagram. The blankness of the ‘post’ format reminds me of starting a book – that daunting but electrifying feeling of what could be – combined with the reassuring ease that you just have to hit ‘post’ on whatever rubbish it is.
I think fast. Will a picture of Mercy Muroki and me looking jolly at the Speccie party go down well in this new threadbare world? I panic and post another photo of Chopper – Christopher Hope, the Telegraph journalist – and me. Surely they will love that. Everyone loves Chopper. It’s 1 a.m. now, I am delirious. I post: ‘Is there a word limit? Who knows’, swiftly followed up with: ‘Will Elon join? Who knows.’ I tell myself I’m being funny.
The character limit is a moot point over on Twitter. What is the limit of a Thread? Also, is it a thread or a post? I am a bit confused. A new Threads comrade helpfully chips in: ‘Experimenting with a tasty Pi to about 40,000 decimal places. So it seems the character limit is 10,000. Fill yer boots, Toff.’ I couldn’t have put it better myself. Have I finally found my people?
I am an avid reader and run an online book club. So I ask my new virtual friends: ‘What is the best book you’ve ever read?’ Tackling the crucial questions early. The 200 responses are varied and thought-provoking.
A friend texts: ‘Threads is made for you.’ I agree. My final thought before I drift off is a slight frustration at the lack of a search function. How can I locate memes á la Twitter?
Never mind. I wake up with a start at 7 a.m. Threads is my first thought. Is this what having a child is like? I have inherited a weird, woke Zuckerbaby to care for and grow. I squint at the phone. I’ve hit 10,000 followers. I’m tempted to post a Borat ‘great success’ meme, but I can’t work out how to.
Instead, I post ‘I am off to Devon this weekend. I plan on swimming in the sea, watching the birds and walking’, and attach a photo of my new criminal glittery jelly shoes with a block heel for rock pooling. The shoes are seriously savage and get people talking. God, this is fun. It’s hitting my narcissistic sweet spot without triggering any anxiety. What’s not to like?
A friend messages me saying: ‘Threads can be for you what Telegram is for Trump’. Of course, I screenshot this immediately and post it on Threads. I am gaining traction. My assistant walks into the house and says: ‘You’ve been busy.’ I know exactly what she’s talking about, my hands are aching from the scrolling and tapping.
In fact, this first foray into Threads feels like adultery. Twitter is complex – but it was my first true love. Can I drop it that easily? I joined in April 2010, aged 15. I remember with great fondness finding my tribe of journalists and Westminster insiders. I’m also pro the Elon revolution.
All business entities must be profitable, so I understand why he’s made it less usable to all us idle surfers. However, the free version of Twitter sadly doesn’t quite have the same sparkle. Threads is already dangerously addictive. Zuckerberg gets a lot of flak for being a rip-off merchant. But do any of us really care? I’m gaining the Threads – and losing the plot.
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