He sat down on the porch and started to type on the small glass screen of the device that they still called a phone when they sold it to him. His fingers barely moved but he felt the excitement he’d feel if he had just faced down a swarm of raiders in stinking rags that had once been clothing in a world that was lost to time, sitting under a waning gibbous moon while his wife waited indoors, eager for him to return from whatever foolhardy errand he had set himself upon on that infernal device. Honey, she said. Come back to bed and stop all of that. He sat still and ignored her, his eyes on the stars, thinking about the glory that was…The post No Tweets for Old Men: Yet Another Cormac McCarthy Twitter Hoax Is Upon Us appeared first on Texas Monthly.