Cats Would be Great on Twitter

If there's anything darkly entertaining about social media, it's the sheer spectacle of witnessing some poor online soul being mercilessly "pwned." Let's not celebrate cyber-bullying, but you've got to admit there's something savory about a brutally cynical online comment here and there? Imagine, for a moment, if the animal kingdom had its very own social media app. There's no question that the apex predators of this digital realm would be feline.

Why, you ask? Well, unlike the rest of them, cats are pure predators. Dogs would flood the platform with endless pleas for walks and scritches, while bunnies would merely type *sniff *sniff*sniff *, their furry feet struggling to navigate the keyboard. Horses, oh horses, they would indulge in pompous laments about their profound role in shaping civilization, bemoaning the unfair decline of their societal status. As for parrots, sure they can talk a lot, but are they actually saying anything?

Cats, on the other hand, would dominate. They wouldn't even have to try! Imagine a cat idly opening the app out of sheer boredom, lazily scrolling through the posts. Their slit-eyes would barely register some mindless post about the latest fad diet or political demagogue. They'd sit there, motionless- except for an almost imperceptible flick of their tail- dispassionately observing as the post gained momentum. They might even yawn, unfazed by the surge in likes, retweets, and comments.

Then, when everyone had poured out their deepest hopes, dreams, and vulnerabilities for the world to see, the cat would strike. An effortless and precise swipe of the claw, slashing the critical underbelly of that shared moment of connection.

And then, another yawn.

In a sense, this is already true. We don't even need to give cats their own social media accounts; they already rule the internet. Like the ancient Egyptians, modern-day digital recluses worship the feline deity. These private and ruthless predators (the cats, I mean) manifest the self-perception of the ferocious couch potato. Sure, I like to nap, but I'll also sink my teeth into your throat if you give me the chance.

To be fair, I'm generalizing here. There are genuinely affable cats. "My cat is like a dog" cats. They're not all as apathetic as "The Dude" and as aggressive as his best friend. But, if any of those "nice" cat were to log in, and start protesting the unfair characterization of their species as merciless killers, you know who'd lick their lips and wait for the moment to strike?

Another cat.