I enjoyed reading Susan Sontag was a monster by Laura Elkin on Aeon, and this struck me:
How devastating that Sontag died before the existence of Twitter; I’d have loved to read her critique of it. It would have been eviscerating. She, herself, would not Tweet; she would be endlessly cross with our hot takes and undigested opinions, our virtue-signalling and dog-whistling. It is the opposite of thought, the opposite of seriousness.
It’s the reason why I limit my Twitter appearance to photography as much as possible, and why I eliminated most political stuff via mute words.