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Vini, Vidi, Tweeti
(“I came, I saw, I Tweeted,” from the original Latin)
I would like to share a few thoughts with you this month about an activity that
clearly marks the end of civilization as we know it: Twittering. The New York
Times heralded Twitter as "one of the fastest-growing phenomena on the
Internet." My doctor tells me to be leery of fast-growing anythings, so perhaps
that’s part of my concern. That being said, let’s start with the basics:
Twitter is a free service predicated on the question, “What are you doing?” By
composing short, 140-character messages, you can share with the world that you
are standing in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles, eating a tuna
sandwich, or watching your dog chase its tail. If compulsively posting such
digital drivel is not enough of an incentive to get out of bed in the
morning—which is, of course, another event you’ll want to share with others—you
can also follow the mundane activities of other peoples’ uneventful
lives—including neuron-numbing celebritwits. At no time in the history of
interpersonal communication has the phrase “Get a life” been more appropriate.
To get started with Twitter, go to
twitter.com and click—well, “Get Started.” Provide the information requested
and in seconds you will be twittified. Congratulations! You passed Twitter’s
rigorous admissions screening. During the sign-up process, you will be asked to
provide your email address and password, which are used to import your contacts.
If you’re less than enthusiastic about that prospect—as well you should
be—obtain a free Gmail (www.gmail.com)
or other disposable address and use that instead.
Next, create your personal profile in which you can reveal as much or as little
about yourself, as you wish. Hint: Less is more. The final dreadful step is to
build your network by importing email lists, contacts from Instant Messaging
services, or you can locate unsuspecting friends and family members with the
search engine at
search.twitter.com. Search by entering your interests, quirks, fetishes and
peccadilloes, which will produce a list of individuals who share similar
disturbing characteristics that you can then elect to follow.
“Following” someone is akin to adding a person to a contacts list or as a
Facebook friend, except the twirp (Twitter relationship) is a one-way street.
Nobody sees your updates unless he or she chooses to follow you. I quickly
discovered that lemming-like individuals will start following you shortly after
you start following them. Creepy? Absolutely.
Once you begin stalking—excuse me, following others, their updates (called
“tweets”) will appear on the Web or in a Twitter feed to one or more designated
devices. In the likely event someone gets on your nerves by posting too many
senseless tweets (an oxymoron if ever there was one), you can remove or block
the serial tweeter. There are many ways to post your own tweets, including
logging into twitter.com and
entering your life-altering updates into the field provided. Third-party
applications are available to streamline this process and eliminate the need to
visit the site on a recurring basis.
To thoroughly research this sociological phenomenon, I immersed myself in the
twit culture (and I use the term loosely) for a period of two months. As a
professional journalist for more than 25 years, I cannot adequately articulate
the pride I felt as I typed (“twyped,” in terminally cutesy TwitterSpeak),
“Lilly coughed up a fur ball.” I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking, “Pulitzer for
Mr. Modem, at last!”
On the plus side, I found Twittering to be harmless—if you don’t count the
liquefaction of my frontal lobe into cerebral gruel. (A condition, some might
argue, that predates my foray into the Twittosphere.)
As Twitter itself enthusiastically chirps, “With Twitter, you can stay
hyper-connected to your friends and always know what they’re doing,” which begs
the question, “Who cares?” During my Twitterfest, I learned that GomeZorb had
the flu and stayed home from work—apparently to Twitter (a phenomenon known as
social notworking), NeoPunk misplaced his iPod, and DrizYChick made oatmeal.
Could it be any more exciting?
Why anybody would feel compelled to share the excruciatingly tedious minutia of
their life is bewildering; why anybody would want to read it is even more
puzzling. I am willing to concede, however, that perhaps I’m failing to grasp
the bigger picture, so this is your opportunity to set me straight: Are you
a-twitter over Twitter? If so, what positive impact has it had on your life, and
if you have any heartwarming, inspirational, or socially redeeming tales of the
tweet, email me at
MrModem.Feedback@gmail.com. Deteriorating minds want to know.
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