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My creative process is simple. For example, say I am rushing to a meeting near Grand Central, bemoaning the fact that I’m not a morning person. I see a pigeon who has waddled in between two businesspeople waiting in line to buy coffee at a corner cart. Before the conscious part of my brain kicks in, the Twitter app is already open and my fingers are dashing off “A pigeon is waiting in line for coffee between two suits. I guess someone else also finally finished Lean In.”
Within seconds of posting any tweet, I’m checking and rechecking the screen to see what the favorability index is on my random speech bubble. If it’s in the double digits for likes, I tell myself that the West Coast hasn’t risen yet. My best tweet found favor with more than 40,000 people, the worst was deleted. The statistics are undeniably grotesque, yet compelling in their rigid judgment. It’s like a standup comedy set, except the feedback per joke is spread out over a much longer period, and you get specific detail on who responded and can adjust your delusions accordingly re: your “influence.”
It makes me wonder about Donald J. Trump’s Twitter origin story. According to his Twitter account, he has been a member since March 2009 and has tweeted more than 34,000 times. Did he get bitten by a radioactive exclamation point?