Twitter is a weird, wired little universe where armies of people, such as myself (and you, for example) go to peddle our views, trade information, kibbitz with friends, troll for celebrities, and occasionally shoulder each other’s burdens. We provide commentary during presidential debates and sporting events. We flirt and we fight. Early on, most of us make a decision about whether to be ourselves or someone else entirely for the duration of our stay on Twitter. The rest of us have other ideas.
I had dinner last Tuesday with some friends and we had a serious conversation about the identities of the folks behind several anonymous Twitter accounts that we all follow. The one I have been most curious about for the past year is a “newsroom” mouse. The object of one friend’s obsession? A household appliance. That’s right— a refrigerator.
In between bites of Indian food, we batted around some names, including each other’s (in an uncomfortable moment), but could not even build a short list of potential suspects. My favorite mouse actually tweets with my friend and her refrigerator regularly communicates with me. Truth be told, we were both a little jealous of each other’s special relationships and indignant that we were seen as somehow lacking.
The conversation then moved on to our own hidden Twitter identities. I have on occasion impersonated a famous, blowhard rapper and she, on the other end of the spectrum, used hers to contribute to the culture of news.
Both of us tweet a fair amount under our own names—and again, her feed is muscular and consistently informative and mine is more like, Sperm whales were dealt a poor hand in the naming department— information about as useful as a two-foot crutch. Yet, both of our endeavors take up enough time so that our altar egos eventually receded into the loam.
The objects of our affection, @nyt_mouse and @NYTFridge, have shown no evidence of any such action in the near future. Nor should they, for that matter. Both are clever and keep the conversation going. I would suspect, however, that this side gig is their gig, at least terms of tweeting. The Fridge (Ah @microtony, late to the raging facial hair wars. Not every one can sport a magnificent @AremDuplessis-like beard. It requires mastery.) is busier than the mouse; and the mouse (@lexinyt @lheron I am not anonymouse. My name is Tucker, and children have been reading about me in the NYT newsroom for decades.) is more whimsical than the Fridge. The Fridge needles and the mouse winks.
As for my friend and I, we have agreed to attempt to smoke one or both of them out of their lairs in 2012, although others have doubtlessly tried to, unsuccessfully. But we are determined, and crafty, and also, when you think about it, probably a little more than a little sad. Wouldn’t you agree, @nyt_mouse?
(silence)
Damn you, rodent.
