Twitter Raises Certain Questions

Recently the bug bit me and I signed up for a Twitter account. Actually if there is a bug, and I’m not at all sure that there is, it hasn’t visited these parts (my parts … I mean, my bits … I mean … oh, you know, my neck of the woods). To be brutal, with the honesty conch in my small but perfectly-formed hands (forgetting my strange thumbs for a second) I was bored and thought I’d give it a go. There is no ambition within me, no drive to have a legion of followers who will be interested in tweets about what I plan to have for lunch – or indeed any species of intention to ever tweet anything myself at all. I’m there for looking. It’s a skill of mine. A personality trait – watch others do things, rather than doing them yourself. (And when I say watching other people doing things, I don’t mean those things. I just mean, you know, just observing. Stuff like that.)

People are interesting, and what they think is interesting about themselves and what they are up to is frequently not interesting at all, but it interests me that they think that way and have that sort of opinion of themselves that they are convinced others will appreciate being apprised of this intelligence. It is amusing.

More than that though, ordinary people being ordinary and queerly interesting because ordinary isn’t ordinary, ordinary is in fact highly abnormal – the phrase “There’s nowt as queer as folk” comes to mind – is official news/results/updates, which I am following (a Twitter phrase). And I have learned, to some disappointment, that many agencies and mouthpieces repeat news from each other and there is no real point in following them all. There is a finite amount of ‘just in’ news about the Queensland State of Origin team, for example, and it will be relayed, when known, by several sources. Even sources the Twitter account holder is not following.

And it also has to be said that celebrities are just as keen to tell you what they’ve had for breakfast as nobodies. Some obviously don’t indulge in this practice at all, but many do. Perhaps it’s because they are even more convinced than the most vain normal person that their whole life is a fascinating biographical romp, breathlessly anticipated by a devoted group of fans waiting for developments with their tongues dangling.

I’m not like that though. I feel like a bit of a wanker now. Is this a bit like the justification for male-male sex in prisons – he’s gay, I’m not, he’s in the woman’s place. If so, I’m not gay[1].

[1] Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Published in: on May 18, 2011 at 7:42 pm  Leave a Comment  

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