Oh, Elon.
You wanted more free speech on Twitter (by which of course you meant, like all loud-stamping infants, the freedom for people to say what you wanted to hear, while still banning, blocking and threatening anyone espousing an opinion you disagreed with) so you bought it.
You found people, and advertisers, revenue and staff abandoning you in droves, unwilling to keep meeting in a town square that now smelled unpleasantly of pissy shop-doorways, and which broadcast from its public-address system the incessant petulant outbursts of the toddler in his CEO branded romper suit.
And so, to draw in the mob you invoked The Donald, reinstating his account, long-since banned for being if anything more strident in its monomaniac megalomania than yours. Perhaps you assumed that by exhibiting the most popular freak in the last decade’s freak-show you would draw in once more the crowds; some to ooh and ahh in wonder, some to object to the crude demeaning display (but either way, the crowds, eh?)
And then, Barnum and Bailey huckster that you are, you trumpeted your new attraction
Vox Populi, Vox Dei! Ah yes, the voice of the people is the voice of God. You (who?) wanted it, and Elon gave it to you.
Two points follow.
The first is that dear Elon seems to have a book of Latin tags rather than an education (the blatant fakery of his academic history is on record and astonishing) otherwise he would have known the full quotation is far more apt:
“Nec audiendi qui solent dicere, vox populi, vox dei,
quum tumultuositas vulgi semper insaniae proxima sit.”
Which translated reads:
“Do not listen to those who say the voice of the people is the voice of God,
since the tumult of the crowd is always close to madness.”
The second point, as of this writing, is that Trump said he’s not coming back (he may change what passes for his mind of course). The cage behind the curtain remains empty of exhibit.
Otherworlds 