Februar 15th, 2015

How One Stupid Tweet Blew Up Justine Sacco’s Life

The furor over Sacco’s tweet had become not just an ideological crusade against her perceived bigotry but also a form of idle entertainment. Her complete ignorance of her predicament for those 11 hours lent the episode both dramatic irony and a pleasing narrative arc. As Sacco’s flight traversed the length of Africa, a hashtag began to trend worldwide: #HasJustineLandedYet. „Seriously. I just want to go home to go to bed, but everyone at the bar is SO into #HasJustineLandedYet. Can’t look away. Can’t leave“ and „Right, is there no one in Cape Town going to the airport to tweet her arrival? Come on, Twitter! I’d like pictures #HasJustineLandedYet.“

A Twitter user did indeed go to the airport to tweet her arrival. He took her photograph and posted it online. „Yup,“ he wrote, „@JustineSacco HAS in fact landed at Cape Town International. She’s decided to wear sunnies as a disguise.“

The Law of Jante

The hairdresser’s was called, baldly, “Hair.” The pub was called “The Pub.” The shop that sold clothes and shoes ventured to grab the attention of passersby with the razzle-dazzle name “Clothes and Shoes”; the bookshop was Bog Handler or “Book Dealer.” Clearly affronted by its neighbors’ shameless self-promotion, one retailer had simply taken to naming itself “No. 16”; another, wary of accusations of hubris, had plumped simply for Shoppen, or “The Shop.” These retailers were not merely lacking in marketing skills, they defiantly renounced all conventional notions of salesmanship.

Zürich Zombietown – der Sommer 1991

Es gab ein Drinnen und ein Draussen. Die Welt draussen war die Welt der Stadtbewohner, die den täglich surrealer anmutenden Zuständen immer fassungsloser begegneten. Einer von ihnen war Jacky, damals Geschichtsstudent an der Uni Zürich, wohnhaft im Kreis 5 in der Nähe der Langstrasse. In der WG nannte man sie Zombiemeile – weil sich dort immer wieder Szenen ereigneten wie jene, an die er sich heute noch schaudernd erinnert. Eines Morgens beobachtete er an der Ecke Langstrasse/Zollstrasse eine Frau. Auf allen vieren kroch sie die Strasse hinunter, die Haare am Boden und der Rock über den blanken Hintern hochgerutscht. Unterwäsche trug sie keine.

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