Mitt Romney has admitted that he is “Pierre Delecto” on Twitter, a secret online identity he created in order to … hell if I know. Probably to say things he might later wish to pretend that he didn’t.
So far, Pierre Delecto has merely chastised President Donald Trump and in turn flattered Sen. Romney. Those aren’t crimes. If they were, more than half of America would have pending court dates.
Trump — perennially annoyed by anything, including stuff he agreed with a moment before — denounced Romney on Twitter as a “pompous ass” and suggested that he be impeached.
The president, who is rumored (according to me) to go by the dual Twitter identity “Ima B. Squid,” apparently doesn’t know that senators cannot be impeached. I didn’t know that either, but then I’m not president of the United States.
It is estimated — by me, a couple of other guys and at least one scientist — that 89% of all online user names are fake.
For example, “Sonny Dyle” is not the name of a real person. Hell, it sounds completely made up. So only the most trusting of morons would believe someone using that name would post anything credible.
Using patently false identities like that is an obvious attempt to steer the blame away from a person who almost certainly knows more than he or she is willing to admit.
If such a username were to post “We can’t find Kirb. We found his shoes and a big smoking hole in the ground where he used to be, but not him,” you immediately would be suspicious. Right?
This is not to say that aliases, pen names, or nom de guerres are always inappropriate or cowardly. Some people — whistleblowers, spies, cartel narcs and people who want to stay alive — are forced to use them to accomplish useful purposes.
Besides, fake names can be fun. I’ve used them myself. When I first started writing, I penned a column for the Springville Herald under the name “Mark Conroy.”
Later, I wrote a police column for another Utah County newspaper as Officer John “Blitz” Kreeg. Since I was still a cop when I started writing it, the idea was not to have what I wrote become an issue when taking someone to jail.
Prisoner • “Yeah, and when you arrested my mom, you wrote that she had a driving pattern like a chimpanzee being electrocuted.”
Me • “Wasn’t me. It was that guy Blitz. And he didn’t use her real name either.”
When the column became successful enough that it required a mug shot, I used a photo of my patrol sergeant. It turned up on billboards advertising the newspaper.
Like most super secrets, the true identity of Blitz became obvious in a matter of minutes. I didn’t feel too bad. It’s hard to hide an enormous amount of cynicism behind such a short name.
But Blitz became popular enough to pen a book titled “Happy Valley Patrol.” It’s out of print now, but ill-used copies sometimes can be found at disreputable used-book stores and landfills.
Unless it’s an attempt to deliberately libel someone, using a pseudonym or a stage name sometimes serves an acceptable purpose. Aliases have been used by politicians, playwrights, porn stars, prophets and pulp writers.
Don’t be too hard on them. The “real” you is probably lurking behind the name you’re using right now.
Robert Kirby is The Salt Lake Tribune’s humor columnist. Follow Kirby on Facebook.
