"Not A Scaramucci Too Soon..."

Edited 4-22-2018: Grammatically and Visually

Additional information and revisions made on 04-22-2018 and 11-27-2020

............

Even though I'm having a lot of fun on Twitter lately, it doesn't mean my time spent there is devoid of all problems.

One of the main issues with Twitter is the amount of similar content.

Regardless if it comes as a result of legitimate theft, a revision or re-edit, "Copycatting", or "Parallel Thoughts", it happens far too often for my liking.

As a blogger and writer, I've heard all kinds of horror stories about how someone was working really hard to think of, create, and tell their joke, story, or just the start of an idea, only to have it taken over by someone with greater exposure or clout.

If I was working on a project, I would want other creators to tell me if there are other similar pieces of work already in existence.

I have no interest in having to take any amount of time out of my day to explain where the origins of my work come from, especially, if it's being used in direct comparison to someone else's work.

Apparently, not all writers feel the same way.

In the aftermath of Hope Hicks' departure from the White House, a slew of jokes using Anthony Scaramucci's surname as a measurement of time started showing up in my Twitter feed.

Here's the first instance of the joke I can remember:

It's a great joke.

I laughed at it, I liked it, and I retweeted it. No big deal.

Then, it spread like wildfire. Not the actual joke I liked and retweeted, but other versions of the same joke.

I started off by humorously nudging others into acknowledging the similarities. To give credit where credit is due, as it were.

Then, it started to get way out of hand.

At this point, the joke was being furiously altered, restructured, and retweeted by several other Twitter users in a virtual battle for online supremacy over who could get the greatest acknowledgment for, "their work".

Notice how the person above tweeted the joke directly to Mr. Scaramucci.

The variations were too many to count but, it all stopped after I noticed me retweeting and linking the first instance of the joke started to become the larger issue.

You're right.

It is weird, only because far too many people on Twitter don't care to research the origins of content. 

I never replied to anyone with an accusation of theft. Not once. 

I only linked the first instance of the joke I read.

Also, I'm not great with subtlety. 

If I have something to say, I'll say it. Especially from behind the "safety" of a keyboard. 

I believe the problem manifested because the person I was retweeting has this other person blocked. 

They couldn't read the tweet so I had to tell them what the tweet said and who it was from. 

Only then, the situation began to escalate. 

Again, I don't do subtle.

I decided to descend into the subtweet to speak my mind.

The person discussing the timeline of the joke in this tweet is a well-known writer.

There were more well-known writers involved in this Twitter thread as well. Let this information sink in for just a moment.

The reason I didn't approach every single person who tweeted a similar joke with an accusation of theft is due to the fact it would be extremely difficult for me to prove.

For all I know, the person I was retweeting might have "stolen" the joke from someone else.

What I do know is, the person who believed I was accusing them of joke theft, didn't tweet the joke first.

I wasn't making my case any clearer and I became overwhelmed and disgusted by the whole situation.

The thread had several other participants, but they've since deleted their involvement for whatever reasons.

I decided to take my leave after writing my final thoughts.

I learned a lot from these interactions, though.

I've since rebranded my, "That's What I Said" award.

It's now called the "Twitter Twin" award. I even received a like from Ed Solomon, writer of the "Bill and Ted" movie series, which, I think is pretty awesome.

I'm not going to stop acknowledging the origins of content, ever.

If you need more explanation as to why I still feel comfortable going to bat for other creators and how I know I did the right thing...

The first censored name belongs to the same person who was upset with my retweets and misinterpreted accusations of theft. They have over 100 Thousand Twitter followers.

The second censored name belongs to a celebrity comedian with over 8 million Twitter followers.

Do the math.

If you don't want me standing beside you at the bottom, you sure won't find me standing next to you at the top.

............

How about another example of similar content making the rounds on Twitter?

For perspective on how often similar content appears on Twitter.

This mentality is truly scary for those who are interested in proclaiming rights to things they have created, especially writers.  

The entire process is not supposed to be so mysterious to the point, others feel no need to acknowledge where content comes from.

Who thought of it? Who wrote it? Who edited it? Who published it? Who does the content belong to?

I consider myself to be a "new kid on the block" and these are questions I ask myself every time before I publish something for any of my own projects.

As I said earlier, I have no interest in having to take any amount of time out of my day to explain where the origins of my work come from, especially, if it's being used in direct comparison to someone else's work.

I feel the importance of the origin of content is paramount, especially in this day and age. 

All kinds of creators are at risk of having their work stolen and published, without them even knowing.

How many websites are currently in existence? How many unique websites does the average internet user visit on a regular basis?

The fact someone's content can be taken and re-posted on an unknown amount of sites is daunting.

The first part of this story started when I linked a tweet to someone who was tweeting a similar joke about the departure of Hope Hicks.

This person became upset because they thought I was accusing them of stealing a joke.

After it was all said and done, I still believed I was doing the right thing, and I continue to conduct myself the same way when I see clear examples of similar content.

I won't say the Twitter user's name but, in a strange twist, they found themselves on the opposite end of this issue recently.

Here is their tweet.

Notice the time stamp and the date.

Now, here's another tweet.

The first tweet is from a writer who currently has over 110 Thousand followers on Twitter.

The second tweet is from an extremely well-known comedian with 29 million Twitter followers. 

Again, do the math.

I was honestly shocked to see both of these tweets within 24-hours of each other.

The only response I could think of was -

I think it's fair to say, a bunch of writers saw the Time magazine cover at the same time, slapped the image into a reverse photo search, and viola, comedy!

The fact this similar content was being passed around on the same website is odd, though.

Especially considering, the comedian responsible for the mirror tweet has been accused of doing things like this before.

If the entire community of writers can acknowledge there is, in fact a problem, we can actually help each other in determining the origin of content and how important origins are to each others work.