Many years from now, it will be understood that Twitter brought democracy to Iran.

It won’t be because Twitter allowed the young protestors in Iran to get their stories out to the rest of the world. And it won’t be because anyone bought a one-way ticket to Tehran to march side-by-side with pro-democracy forces. It will be because the Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad will one day log onto Twitter and see the thousands and thousands of profile pics that have been given a green tint as a show of solidarity for defeated candidate Mirhossein Mousavi. As many of you know, Mousavi chose green as the official color of his ill-fated campaign.

On Twitter, Khamenei and Ahmadinejad will see the effervescent mug of Tanner Turnbuckle in Tulsa, Okla., and the way that his photo is now the color of split pea soup. They will see the frowning mug of Cassandra Boilermaker, her normally jet-black hair the same color as a John Deere tractor. And they will see Danny Cornblower of Savannah, Ga., dressed in a green top hat and a green tux, with a green beer in his hand and shamrock-shaped shades on his head. That, my friends, is how revolutions are won.

But Twitter can do far more than topple regimes. For one, it is destined to take the place of newspapers. And two, if you know exactly what you’re doing, it can allow you to see the future. Just use the hashtag #nostradamus.

And it’s because of this little known function of Twitter that I’ve been able to read a review of a movie that should be of interest to the folks of this state. And that movie is called The Earth Moved.

While I could tell you all about it, I’ll let you read the review yourself. Please note: Like all prose from the later 21st century, it is delivered in 140-word Tweets. Your stone-age mind is not yet ready for such a future-forward style, so I’ve slightly altered the review from its original form. Enjoy.

The Earth Moved

Starring Edward Norton, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Judge Reinhold

Directed by Uwe Boll

Rated NC-17

The opening scene in this steamy but slow-paced story— loosely based on the life of Mark Sanford (Norton) and the brief love affair he shared with Maria Belen Chapur (Zeta-Jones) — offers viewers a glimpse of the future governor with a shovel in his hands, sweat on his brow, his muscles rippling, his khaki shorts tight around his long and lean legs. There is no denying the scene’s eroticism — the way Norton grunts as he drives the shovel into the ground, creating a gash in the moist dirt, elicited more than one reactive moan from the audience. That Sanford is digging the grave of his father is only revealed after the future governor puts the tool down. It’s a shocking image that long stays with the viewer, not because the scene is arousing but because it so clearly illustrates the politician’s tragic flaw. This is a man who loves his shovel and desperately wants to dig — whether it’s the massive pits that the governor digs using a hydraulic excavator on the family farm (Sanford’s preferred way to relieves stress) or the hole he digs for himself when he’s finally caught coming back from a tryst with his South American love. Of course, as tragic as this tale is, what viewers really want to know is, is it sexy? And I say, Yes. Yes! Yes!!! And it puts all other cinematic endeavours to capture the pure animal lust felt by one man digging his woman to shame. Last Tango in Paris, 9 1/2 Weeks, Top Gun (poor Goose and Maverick) — your grave awaits. Order a large soda before this one, heavy on the ice. You’re going to need it to cool down whenever Sanford takes out his shovel and does what he does best. Can you dig it!?

Um. No. I think I’ll pass. Like Twitter, thinking about Sanford having sex makes me feel a little green.