posted on December 4, 2008 07:38:39 PM new
Rise of the Twitterati
By Kathleen Parker
Wednesday, December 3, 2008; Page A17
"I have discovered that all human evil comes from this, man's being unable to sit still in a room."
-- Blaise Pascal
We are sitting in a restaurant, sipping wine and chatting, when my friend begins twittering.
Not in the usual way. Two women twittering turn no heads. Rather, she is "twittering" via her iPhone, typing out a message to subscribers who inhabit the quantum universe of blogs, URLs and spheres.
For those who still commune by glance and gesture, "to twitter" roughly means to express an abbreviated thought or observation in real time to a live, self-selecting audience of brain voyeurs. People who want to know your every cogitation and sign up for the privilege.
Shorter than a blog posting, a "tweet" consists of a concise sentence or two and essentially answers the question: What are you doing?
Often, the answer is not riveting, as in: "Getting ready for work." Other times, as in the recent election, twitterers have been put to constructive use, such as reporting possible poll shenanigans.
Under ideal circumstances, a tweet would offer something insightful -- or newsy, such as: "Rahm Emanuel just walked in."
As, in fact, he did the evening of my twit-initiation. Instantly, my friend's twitterees -- all 5,000 of them -- knew what she knew and were, for what it was worth, As Good As There.
In the Information Age: Knowing equals Being.
Twittering isn't entirely new, of course. The Facebook generation has been sort of twittering for years, posting prosaic bulletins about their whims and whereabouts, providing a glimpse of what the world would be like if hummingbirds could type:
"Jordan is busy busy!"
"Josh is driving to the mountains today."
"Kate is sooooooooo never drinking martinis again."
On Planet Facebook, nothing in one's life is not worth mentioning. To what end, one can only surmise. I am, therefore I am, therefore I am. But what are friends for, if not to feign interest in what's not the least bit interesting?
Serious twitter subscribers expect more than a mood update, I'm told, and presumably won't stick around long for less. Or will they? I recently created an account at Twitter.com. Nary a tweet have I posted thus far, yet already I have a dozen subscribers.
Who are they? How long will they wait? Why do they wait? Will they spurn me if I fail to twitter? Would a banter suffice? In the spirit of gamesmanship, herewith a tweet:
"James Dobson's letter-writing campaign to set me straight re God and GOP appears to be backfiring. Most e-mails from his Web site the past two days disagree with Dobson."
As my son would say, "Baaam!"
Truth be known, I confess to a certain, inexplicable calm. Gratification, if you will. Perhaps there is something to this twittering business.
One's every other thought couldn't be considered compelling, surely. But there may be merit to this yet-new thing. Wouldn't we be interested in, say, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's twitterings? Barack Obama's? Sarah Palin's?
Come to think of it, how long before we begin to expect, if not demand, that public officials twitter? Already, blogging is de rigueur for anyone seeking a wide audience or market share. Nearly every newspaper Web site now offers multiple, topic-specific blogs to which reporters, editors and columnists are expected to post
The Obama campaign revolutionized political communication and fundraising. Fireside chats and radio addresses may nurture our nostalgia, but blogs and twitters feed our need for speed. They also give an impression of human contact without the muss and fuss of actual intimacy.
For serious twitterers, there is additionally a commercial aspect. Building one's base, so to speak, eventually leads to possible marketing opportunities. When one has a million subscribers to one's thoughts, one may have a salable asset. A penny for your thoughts potentially becomes legal tender.
What all this means in the long term is anyone's guess. How much information can a brain usefully process? What end is served by the random tweets of countless individuals? The impulse to be incessantly in touch can be viewed either as gregarious or as a sign of consuming anxiety. Twittering may be the opiate of the obsessively, compulsively disordered.
Who needs the couch, after all, when no thought is ever repressed?
Something to consider. Or, perchance, to tweet?
--
_____________________
posted on December 4, 2008 08:34:32 PM new
It's sort of like portable instant messaging. I don't understand why anyone needs to be so connected all the time. Maybe it's an age thing. I usually do better being out of touch. I like it just fine when nobody can find me......
posted on December 4, 2008 09:43:17 PM new
I too can't imagine being connected all the time. Exceptions would be a relative dying, or a baby due any day.
I'm sure this is a generational thing, except that our three kids (38 to 45) don't do it either.
Parker is right, in this column, that not everything that passes through our minds is important enough to share with others.
_____________________
Being constantly tethered to a phone twenty four hours a day is much like being imprisoned. I dream of getting away from that loss of freedom represented by a cell phone.
In fact, I sometimes have an inclination to smash the dam thing to bits. The bonds that bind me to everybody I know is driving me nuts.
posted on December 5, 2008 07:38:17 AM new
Kathleen Parker needs a better class of friends, or perhaps more exciting conversation topics when she's with the friends.
I'm not ordinarily a "cruising kind of guy," but one of the reasons we've taken cruises lately is that my wife's Blackberry doesn't work when we're out to sea. It's not the only reason, but it is a consideration.
You can buy Internet time on the boats if you absolutely need to be connected, but we've managed not to do that. Cell phones won't work unless you buy some kind of special service; we've managed to avoid that also.
Being part of a global business is interesting, but the control they want over your time can be overwhelming. My wife was asked to attend a 3AM conference call on Thanksgiving! She actually considered it until sanity prevailed.
Cash, several years ago we had a ship to shore radio on our toy yacht. There were no cell phones then but we could make calls through Baltimore marine if we were in the Annapolis area, for example. That little radio served to relieve the boredom of being alone on the sea for awhile. It was very interesting to listen to telephone conversations transmitted ship to shore, especially during the years that both sides of the conversation could be heard.
posted on December 5, 2008 01:09:52 PM new
Helen, an easy way to just say no to the cell phone is to gradually, ever so gradually become known as someone who chronically forgets to charge their phone. Your dependable answering habits have you chained. My family has actually come to expect my phone to be dead most of the time, and so they're always pleasantly surprised when I actually deign to answer it.
The only time it's actually always functional is when one of us is on the road and needs to reach the others, or if my son or I am out on horseback on a remote part of the ranch alone.
When the girls are coming home, or SWMBO is traveling after dark, they still know to call the house phone and leave a message that they're on the road, that way I'll turn on my phone in case of emergencies.
Nothin' bugs me like the people in the grocery store yammering away about nothing and getting in everybody's way..."did you say Tuna Helper or Hamburger?.....WHAT?"
posted on December 5, 2008 01:18:10 PM new
Yep, prof! Or the ones that just want to know where someone is. "Where y'at?" and then "Whatcha doin'?"
It used to be that people talking out loud on the street with no companion meant they were a bit over the edge. Now we have to check first for a cell phone OR for that danged thing in their ear.
I have an idea! For people who are truly deranged, buy them a fake blue tooth ear thing to wear all the time, and no one will know the difference.
_____________________
Last year the two secretaries in my school office got those ear things, nobody asked me about the expense, they just ordered them, now I can't ever tell whether they're talking to me, or somebody on the phone. I'll walk in and ask a question, like "what time is the mail coming in from town?" And I'll get answers like "Oh, no, what did the doctor say about the swelling?" jeez!
Good idea, Profe. I've already destroyed one phone by dropping it in the toilet. I think it was an accident??? And before it was dry my children replaced it!
