The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." " is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32)

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

TWITTERING MY LIFE AWAY: I am all a-twitter these days, now that I am on Twitter. I am not sure whether or not if this is a good thing, but I tend to doubt it. Twitter was a nice verb, but now that it is a noun, there might be consequences, most of them unintended and several of them likely to cost me and hundreds of other taxpayers just like me a good-sized chunk of money, as does everything else does nowadays. And what, you may ask, is Twitter and why am I on it? This is a very good question and one for which I wish I had an equally good answer. A friend invited me on and so I went; as with the inestimable Sir John Falstaff, company, villainous company hath been the spoil of me. Twitter, for those of you are not nearly as much of a twit as I appear to be, is a instant messaging service now sweeping the Internet in 140 characters or less. It is, in short, email for those people whose attention span is only slightly shorter than a gnat’s, a classification that includes most, if not all, teenagers, white supremacists, and socioeconomically deprived dyslexic dwarves. There may be less to Twitter than meets the eye, but, frankly, I don’t see how that is possible. Even in a medium that prizes lack of depth, Twitter’s insubstantiality is positively mind-boggling. You could float Noah and the Ark on the slender puddle of piss on this Twittering rock and still have enough room left over for the three men in the tub, the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria, the owl and the pussycat, and the USS Nimitz to navigate about without fear of colliding with one another. There are many people you could blame for this horrific state of affairs: the Jews, the Illuminati, the Jesuits, the Masons, the Mafia, the international Communist conspiracy, and mildly socialistic mayonnaise makers all come immediately to mind, but I prefer to blame Barney the Dinosaur and his mindless slave army of preliterate munchkins. I realize that there is no rhyme or reason to my assigning the blame for Twitter on America’s vast cohort of annoying runny-nosed tots, but if it’s rhyme and reason that you want then I suggest you go look up the collected works of Alexander Pope and get the stuff there; you ain’t getting no rhyme or reason in this neck of the woods, bubba, that’s for damn sure.

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  • At 7:27 PM, Blogger miriam said…

    I don't understand this Twitter stuff. For instance, who do you twitter at, or to, and why?

    Are you creating priceless gems of prose or wit? If not, why not?

    Will your collected twitters be collected between hard covers and sold for $35.95 at Barnes & Noble?

  • At 10:35 AM, Blogger Akaky said…

    I don't understand it, either; most people have nothing to say in the first place and restricting their ability to say it to a mere 140 characters doesn't seem economically viable to me. On the other hand, having nothing to say has never stopped anyone from saying the nothing they don't have to say in the first place, so the 140 character restriction may serve to whittle the nothing people do not have say down to the bare bones of nonexistence, if nonexistence can have anything as existential as bare bones, a sentence, I am sure, that sounds much better in French than it does in English.

    Am I creating priceless gems of wit on Twitter? No, I don't actually twit or tweet on the site very often, which explains why I am not creating priceless gems of prose and wit there. Also, going there makes me feel like a refugee from a Monty Python sketch.

    As to your third question, the answer is no. If I am creating priceless gems of prose or wit on Twitter, I am going to sell them for a hell of a lot more than $39.95 plus shipping and handling call now operators are standing by.


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