Social media has a sickly smell about it, like that of rotten peaches. Maybe that smell was the last sensation several people had in a jewelry plant in 1988, when someone used the wrong chemical to clean a tank of zinc cyanide, and the fumes killed four people almost instantly, choking off their ability to process oxygen.
At least it was quick. Imagine instead a cyanide-like fume, sickly, mingling the sweet and sour, that does not kill you but gnaws at your insides over months and years so that your bones turn to chalk, your lungs wheeze like a busted accordion, your brain is in a fog, and your heart won’t keep time. That, I think, is what you get on social media as you inhale the fumes of rancor, pride, impatience, and spite. Not a pretty sight: people in a cesspool holding their noses and railing against their neighbors for stinking; cripples trying to beat each other up with their own canes and mostly flailing and falling; lepers watching with malice to see when someone else’s finger crumbles.
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