Twitter Rant

Tweet THISTo be clear – social media is NOT (and cannot ever be) a replacement for actual creativity or generative impetus. You might be thinking things like, “shut up”, “blah blah blah”, or “laundry time again”, but I scent fever in the Twitter ranks, nervousness, and conversely, the kind of calm a wizened mariner might feel at the helm of a proven schooner, staring down an unruly sea from beneath wire-brush eyebrows. Yes, the social media elite have confidence and piles, in spades. Wait, wait, wait…why all the hostility? I’m not feeling hostile, just observant. I can’t help but associate two things along a strange line: the effect Twitter’s had on the web-faring world seems uncannily like the spirit behind Atari’s distribution boom in 1982. Perhaps I’m not elucidating my idea…what I mean to say is that I’ve spoken to people (friends, colleagues, bunkmates) who feel that distinct feeling the video game market felt back then: glutted. It’s too much. Is it? Fuck if I know. I do understand the routine, though:

  • 7:00:00 a.m. – Log on to Twitter and RSS feeder simultaneously
  • 7:00:01 – 7:00:30 – Breeze through the last hour’s tweets
  • 7:00:30 – 7:01:00 – Find a single half-interesting link in a series of 50
  • 7:01:01 – 7:01:02 – Fail to wonder why you start your day this way
  • 7:01:03 – 7:01:10 – Reaffirm that your tweets, while subject to the perceptions of others, are a viable and breathtaking new way to express yourself…or at least it’s a new way to express yourself.
  • 7:01:11 – 7:02:00 – Scroll through RSS entries, scanning for items which will maximize your exaltation among your internet friends
  • 7:02:01 – 7:02:05 – Realize failure. Condemn yourself for being only one person with narrow views and interests. Open stumbleupon.com.
  • 7:02:06 – 7:08:00 – wear out the “Stumble” button slogging through quirky sites and photos of cats you’ve seen a thousand times (SO “an hour ago”), at least. (/pant)(/sigh) Begin to sweat.
  • 7:08:01 – 7:30:00 – Get new high score on Flash games site you “found” while your bagel hardens and your coffee cools. Note that you’ve got fifteen minutes left to tweet something. You inhale your crust-bagel, rasping the roof of your mouth raw. You mumble a non-response to your wife, who’s topless and wishing you good morning by hugging your head from behind with no hands. A man, somewhere in the pit of impotence hell, curses your name. Your penis, although capable, does not so much as flutter in your khakis. You don’t think about that, though, because during:
  • 7:30:01 – 7:30:15 – You discover a killer graph (interactive!) which reassures its view that global interest in Twitter is growing. You copy the address.
  • 7:30:16 – 7:30:17 – You fail to wonder things like, how does sharing this link validate me. You instead think, my friends will KNOW my mastery of teh interwebz by the boons I bestow unto them, which passed through the lens of reality says, I care more about pandering to the interests of my tenuously clinging social circle than the content of this site/article/flash gamez.
  • 7:30:18 – 7:31:00 – You refresh the page several times in order to witness the the mark you’ve made upon humanity, much the way you appraised the length and girth of your morning stool. “Ahh,” you say.
  • 7:31:01 – 7:35:00 – You sit back, confident that you’ve augmented an integral portion of your web presence, which, you marvel, is a web unto itself. You open Facebook, Digg (because breaking up is hard to do), Flickr, MySpace, LinkedIN, three webmails, your personal site, and YouTube on separate tabe. You use Bing through Google Chrome, and feel good about it.
  • 7:35:01 – 7:44:59 – You update your FB status from Twitter and log on to Digg through FB, reposting a Failblog post you found via Stumbleupon, ignoring that it’s been posted ten times in the last ten minutes. You save it on you clipboard and post it on your mom’s wall, your significant other’s wall, and your own wall. You proceed to comment on your own post: LOL, as if the world needs a prompt. You then post something from the “What’s Hot” section of YouTube to Twitter, which replaces the status update you just posted. You choose a super-sweet photo from the “Last 7 Days” offering on Flickr and tweet the fuck out of it, which updates your FB status a third time. You refresh all of your tabs a final time, and revel in yourself. Really, you feel emptier than when you started and at this point fail to wonder when the cup will ever be full. You are determined to find out.
  • 7:45:00 – You go to work, and your wife calls the cable guy.

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