Here's a real Debbie Downer way to start a conversation: how many of your blog readers, Twitter followers and Facebook friends will come to your real-life funeral? There have been a lot or recent studies and magazine articles trying to make sense of new evolutionary shifts in 21st Century interpersonal communication, but I'm not paid by the word and didn't feel like pussyfooting around. Someday, you and I are going to be just as dead as 18th Century people. We'll be remembered, or we won't, and we'll each have our own lasting legacy based on our contributions -- that's an eternal equation that's not going to change for anything, not even MySpace.

The modern way to make online friends with virtual strangers is to make soft, safe statements about popular topics. In June 2009, here are some good ones to start out with:

• Iran's ruling government is bad
• iPhones are cool, but AT&T's policies are bad
• #inaperfectworld, cats would audibly speak in LOLcat language

All this will get you, however, is a tiny and anonymous place in a massive crowd, which can be a lonelier existential state than the emptiest room. Some internet-people rebel against this dejection by saying the exact opposite, in order to draw a sharp reaction. Examples include, "Ahmadinejad is awesome!" and "I like killing kitties with my gun." These people are called trolls, which is a bad name for them because there isn't anything particularly fearsome, powerful or Norse about them. They're just dicks.

Sure I love Twitter. I love teh tweets so much that I ditched my "personal" account and opted into a read-only experience. Twitter is history's most advanced way yet of obtaining small blips of useful information... anywhere you are. On the desktop, on the phone, in the van, in the can. I'm not so convinced that its legacy is as a interpersonal communication tool.

A lot of people are going to point to recent situations on Moldova and Iran as proof that Twitter has come of age, supplanted traditional journalism, changed the world. These people won't likely mention that week of endlessly cascading Swine Flu misinformation and paranoia last month, or the service's losing battle against truth verification and endless spam. Try this: read 1,000 scattered updates from #iranelection, then read a dispatch from a BBC reporter who's lived in and studied the region for years. After that, go ahead and tell me what the future of journalism is all about.

Recently, I came across the 1936 B-Western California Mail on Turner Classic Movies. The late Dick Foran, who had the worst teeth of any of the singing cowboys, has top billing, and there's a thin plot about romantic jealousy, mistaken identity, and the end of the Pony Express.

But the real star is Smoke the Wonder Horse, a grey palomino with an complicated harness who's credited as "himself" and is responsible for all the major plot turns. I was watching the movie in the "background" while doing some divorce paperwork on the couch, but halfway through, Smoke turns on a bad guy who's stolen and mounted him, throws him off, then kills him with his front hooves before galloping off and leaving the man for dead. I was, like, "Whoa! I didn't see that coming!"

Then, in the climactic chase scene, Smoke runs down another black-hat and stomps him until he dies. It's shown in quick-cut edits (because of the Production Code, most likely), back and forth from close-ups of the dying man's frightened, bloodied face to the rearing horse shown from an upward perspective. The blood-curdling neighs and the screams signaled the day was saved. I leapt from the couch and gave the film a standing ovation, much as folks in the theater must have all those years ago!

Finally, I checked the Internet Movie Database so I could find out what other movies Smoke appeared in. He was in 13 other B-Westerns from 1936 through 1941, forgotten films like Empty Holsters and Winners of the West. He's credited as Dick's Horse, Red's Horse, Rod's Horse, Chip's Horse. The grey wonder-steed never found a regular rider, never had the opportunity to be Silver to any Ranger, lone or otherwise.