I have to confess, I didn’t get it. Friends re-united was ok for a while, but few new faces have appeared for many a moon, so I don’t bother going there. MySpace was the greatest social technological revolution of our time four years ago, only to be kicked into touch by Facebook, which is referred to as an altogether different body part by some of my friends!
I haven’t the time to respond to a zillion people wanting to send me virtual gifts, challenging me to virtual duels, or inviting me to a book festival in downtown Beirut. These things pile in every five minutes it seems. I don’t even have the time to delete them all anymore.
So when the Twitter thing really got going I resolutely resisted. Another registration process. Another vehicle for people I don’t know from Adam to invade my precious virtual space. That was until Friday night when I somehow stumbled on a tweet wondering why I (in another guise) was not ‘one of them‘. (Stop it now, you are bigger and more educated than that!)
Confused, nosey, bored, I did the registration thing, eventually. My preferred nom-de-plume had already been taken by some scrote on the other side of the planet, but I found an acceptable compromise. Now having done that very late on Friday, or was it early on Saturday, I didn’t get to look at the place properly until yesterday. Now I get it. No presents, challenges, or surprisingly spam, although I suppose it is early days. The thing actually grabs you in a number of ways. The format of short, sharp messages makes for easy digestion of what you want to consume. The ego is not left unstroked. Followers? I have followers? Over 500 in 24 hours. Blimey!
Principally though it is the range of people you can find on there with just a little searching. I guess by now everybody has looked at what Steven Fry is so hooked on. To think I once considered his participation as another reason to avoid the thing. What a mistake-a to make-a. Yesterday though I was in the company of President Obama, Alan Davies, Dara O’Briain, Phil Tuffnel, Adge (yes Adge from down the pub, I couldn’t believe it either!), and a variety of journalists who fuel another of my passions. A light went on. You can really pick and choose how much you want to use the thing, and who you want to read, or read about. You can contribute as much, or as little, as you like without being hounded by Sergei from Leningrad for a game of poker.
Problem is, now I’m hooked, how the hell do I find the time to work? I’ve got Twitter on my mobile phone, Twitter on my Macs, Twitter on my netbook. I’m always at it’s beck and call. What on earth have I done?