However, as soon as I looked around Bluesky, I sensed it wouldn’t work. It didn’t yet feel like a desolate vale of inhabited sepulchres – it was more like a bad vegan café, full of humourless puritans with mouths like cats’ bottoms, eager to congratulate themselves on how much better and nobler they were than the awful centrists back on Twitter. (Right-wing people were, of course, beyond discussion – unmentionably evil). It wasn’t very inviting for people like me. And so, even then, I had the notion: Bluesky is going to fail.

Bluecry was always going to fail.

This kind of decay is disastrous for a social medium – because it is self-fulfilling. As the site shrinks down to a hardcore of tedious, earnest people, so these people will turn viciously on each other, out of sheer boredom – lacking anyone else to spar with (ironically, Bluesky is now much nastier than Twitter). In this way the site becomes even less appealing.

Nastier than twitter? No shit.

For one thing, Bluesky currently functions as a kind of philosophical quarantine zone. It’s a safe place where the most politically infected can stew among themselves. Yes, they grow sicker and more misinformed, but that’s all the more reason to keep them there. These people are dreadful – shrill, humourless, dour. We don’t want them back. We must therefore take action to save their ghetto. But what?

Bluecry as a quarantine zone. Good idea.