Twitter

My husband came into the living room the other day as I was sitting on the couch, scrolling on my computer — doomscrolling to be more accurate. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you watching... war?” We laughed at the absurdity of the comment but he wasn’t wrong. That’s exactly what we had been doing for days. Watching war on social media. Needless to say, it was a challenge to focus on this piece. As the conflict escalated rapidly in Ukraine, I couldn’t tear myself away from the drama as it unfolded on Twitter. Putin seemed backed into a corner, desperate and using many of the same barbaric tactics he used in Syria. Bombing hospitals. Bombing kindergartens. Killing civilians.

Stop me if you’ve heard the one about the Ukrainian beauty queen who volunteered to fight the invading Russian forces. If you’ve been on social media these past few weeks, you’ve probably seen the striking photo of the woman clad in tactical gear and holding a rifle. “We are living in a materiel world, and I’m a materiel girl,” the stunner says to the viewer through her steely glare. Or the one about the Japanese ambassador to Ukraine kitted out in his ancestor’s samurai gear and ready to defend his adopted homeland? You’ve surely heard about the “Ghost of Kyiv,” a Ukrainian fighter pilot who has been terrorizing his Russian counterparts, accomplishing the feat — uncommon in contemporary air combat — of becoming an ace.

The sky is dull and gray, the sun obscured by clouds. The camera pans down past some desolate Soviet housing blocks. Some wintry, apocalyptic trees line a road. It could be Kyiv, it could be Bucharest, it could be any city where the residents liberally pepper their words with the -sky suffix. Suddenly, a flash of metal across the sky, a fighter plane roars into shot, then out again. The caption proudly declares, “This is the Ghost of Kyiv, the bravest fighter pilot in the Ukrainian Air Force. He has downed six Russian planes just today.” You don’t know that much about Ukrainian fighter pilots, but placed among a million other viral clips of heroic Ukrainians fighting against Goliath, you think it seems believable enough. You retweet it. You send it down group texts.

Tucker Carlson has been telling us for months that American progressives are too online. In October, the Fox News host lit into Democrats for being more concerned with shattering the glass ceiling for transgender admirals than with addressing the supply chain crisis: “[Our leaders] do not care if the actual country, the physical country, comes apart at the seams, as long as the population dutifully repeats the correct slogans. Once you understand that, you understand why every day we get some frivolous new announcement about some social justice goal that in the end will not improve the life of a single American citizen.” Earlier this month, he played a clip of Jen Psaki laughing at the “alternate universe” Fox News creates for its viewers.

Twitter and other easily accessible means of online communication have encouraged the public to believe that Their Voice Will Be Heard. When it isn’t, they express their frustration through abuse and threats or by blocking roads. In this way, the mentality of the ancient curse-tablet lives on. In the Ancient world, the purpose of the curse was to “bind” the person you disliked — i.e. frustrate them from achieving the end they wanted and you did not. It was written on a thin lead plate, rolled up tight, sometimes twisted (to “hobble” the victim) and pinned (to constrain him), then placed into the tomb of someone who had died before his time. The belief was that the dead man, resentful of his early demise, would be happy to enact the curse against the named victim.

David Rothkopf may not be Ron Klain’s favorite DC pundit. That title goes to Jennifer Rubin, the “conservative” Washington Post columnist, whose every word is reportedly read closely by the White House chief of staff and his West Wing minions. But Rothkopf is high on the list of media figures whose slavishly pro-Biden line lands him with more than his fair share of Klain retweets. Earlier this year, Politico characterized Klain and Rothkopf’s relationship as a “Twitter bromance”, with the former retweeting the latter thirty-six times in the first ninety-six days of the Biden presidency.