“What are you doing?” Twitter doesn’t ask it in an accusatory or invasive manner like when you get caught trying to sneak a backpack full of apples or a tray of hot dogs out of TDR. Twitter is simply curious. We registered with it, asking it to ask us what we’re doing and Twitter obliged.
Some may say that Twitter is feeding into our generation’s self-indulgent egocentric desires. They say that you must be pretty damn full of yourself to think that anyone at all should care where you are every last second. They say that the popularity of Twitter is indicative of what everyone in our generation thinks about themselves — that someone gives a crap.
And that may be the case for some people. You know who they are and you know what they’re doing. All the time. The shuttle never seems to be on time for them and you always know this. You almost don’t even need to talk to these people because the great and powerful Internet is always telling you what’s going on with them in painstaking, explicit detail. And so Twitter may really have revealed something about our generation, but it’s not who is arrogant and self-serving — it’s who’s boring.
Yes. Twitter is a boring person filter. Because in an over-stimulating and constantly-changing world, being boring is the most insulting thing that someone could do, both to themselves and their friends. If used properly, your feed separates who you want to have lunch with that day from who you want to duck away from and pretend not to see on the Quad. It’s not just a series of Facebook updates, it’s not letting everyone know where you are all the time. Twitter itself is not boring — it’s only as boring as the person using it.
In our generation of constant blogging and Internet tomfoolery, Twitter is the least arrogant of social networking sites. Blogging assumes that readers care about an in-depth analysis of your worldly views, and Facebook says that people want to know everything about you. Twitter is a challenge. How witty can you be in 140 characters or fewer? It’s a writer’s cliché — the more restrictions you put on your writing, the more you have to challenge yourself to come up with something quality. I’m going to put it out there, everyone — Twitter is like the haiku of our time.
Simultaneously a recording device for its own users and a venue to play to an audience, Twitter allows for perfectly vague ridiculousness. For instance, yesterday I could have tweeted, “In the lobby of Anderson with an awkward little girl,” but instead I said, “I’m not sure if this person is a midget or a little girl.” It’s all about the phrasing.
And more than just a filter for your friends, Twitter lets you know which celebrities are actually as nuts as you think they are. Do you really want to read through Katy Perry’s six-part tweet about her personal sentiments on Fashion Week? Not really. Do you want to hear about how Tyra Banks doesn’t like brushing her teeth after eating Indian food because it “tastes like minty curry?” Ew, well, not really either, but it serves as almost a kind of boredom-induced voyeurism — “Wow, she really is crazy!”
Twitter is like a teaser; it’s a way of keeping up. Unlike blogging, which reveals in detail the events of one’s night or their personal sentiments on some current event, or Facebook, which really, at this point, is just an unapologetic stalking tool, Twitter gives a little glimpse into the lives of friends. If done correctly, it makes you want to ask more. It makes people wonder.
So forget all that garbage about great social networking or keeping updated with the latest news. I mean, Twitter is useful for all those things, but more than that, it enhances your day-to-day social interactions with people. It’s a quick, concise and ongoing way of letting everyone (who chooses to follow you) who you are. It’s a showcase of personalities. It’s so much more than just, “What are you doing?”
