Tag Archives: twitter

Twalking pride

I like Twitter, though I can see its myriad problems. Let’s not get into the countless witch hunts that pop up over there, or the fact that nobody can hold any kind of real discussion without it immediately degenerating thanks to the lack of ability to say anything worthwhile in just 140 characters.

Well, unless you’re me, because I am succinct and clever and good with words and never waste them and definitely never put filler in any sentences or anything ever.

But I do like Twitter. I think it’s good. I use it well enough, I think. Most people I follow do too: that’s why I follow them. But then, sometimes, you look at someone – let’s say someone you just remembered the full name of who you knew many years ago and just wanted to internet stalk a bit to see what they were doing (successful, married, naturally) and you found their Twitter account and you read it for a bit.

Let’s say that because that’s what just happened.

But then I was cheered up in that usual, dark way I am cheered up by things. Because I saw that not only was the life chronicled in this Twitter account obnoxiously boring, but it was the most routinely routine thing I have ever seen. Seriously, it was ridiculously like clockwork, filling the world (or the 20 followers) in with what inane shit they’d been doing – again – that week.

Not that I’m saying I live the most exciting life in the world, but shut up I’m funny sometimes so that means I win. Oh, and not that I’m saying I don’t live by a routine BECAUSE I DO – but shut up this is a victory I’m keeping because I think I’m ill and I need to go to bed.

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I AM PROCRASTINATING LOL

What’s happened to the word ‘procrastination’? See, I remember a time many years ago when people would say it every chance they got, even if they misunderstood its meaning. Or couldn’t spell it. Or were dickheads. It was the magical time of MySpace, and every other update from someone seemed to mention “I AM PROCRASTINATING LOL” or something along those utterly moronic lines.

Now I don’t see it. Does this mean people have stopped procrastinating? Or is it because one of the main outlets for your inane shite, Twitter, has a character limit – thus making longer words out of bounds? I think we will never know. Unless we ask every single person in the world. Bagsy not doing that – got a bad leg.

Facebook? Well nobody wants to use the word on there because it will make them look like one of two things, depending on what kind of follower sees it. If it’s an old school friend or extended family member, they will think the person writing it is a show-off geek dweeboid from the planet Nerdlinger IV, because only show-off geek dweeboids from the planet Nerdlinger IV use words like ‘procrastinate’. The common plebeian* just can’t handle it.

The other group – people who know, or possibly like the person, will simply think they’re being a prick. It’s a vicious circle. Or cycle. Or square. Or something. I don’t know.

So let’s raise a toast to the forgotten word of the social media landscape: we won’t miss you, procrastinating, because people who used you were generally twatends anyway.

*Can’t spell ‘plebeian’ without Ian!

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Twitter’s ‘top tweets’, aka: ‘how to spout a complete bunch of arse’.

I have grown fond of Twitter for a few different purposes over the last year or so – I still think it’s excellent for live quippy banter during football matches, for example. Especially as I have no friends and always end up watching it on my own.

But the front page of that site often makes me want to stab, twist and stab again. It’s full of the most sanctimonious bullshit I have had the profound misfortune to ever read – half-baked, nonsensical and downright idiotic gibberish that the morons writing it should be fucking ashamed of. And that’s without going in to the mind-numbing god-squad shit that clutters it up.

Problem is, they’re on the main page of Twitter, seen by millions, so they think they’re actually saying, or doing, something right. They’re not. Here are three examples. Well, two examples and one example of something that’s gone over my head. So I’m the idiot there. Let’s just call that one the control in this study.

First up is MileyCySupportt (yes, that’s an extra ‘t’) with this nugget of wisdom:

“We cant find anything in magazine sites about Liam Hemsworth. Why? Because he’s done. He’s nothing without Miley Cyrus. Thats it.”

I don’t give two flecks of crusty, five-week-old shit about Miley Cyrus and I genuinely have no idea who Liam Hemsworth is. I know who Hemsworth Ian is, but I doubt they’re related. But this user seems to genuinely believe the moronic little shit of a singer gives any semblance of a flying fuck about what they think. They seem to think they have any right to comment on the life and times of said little shit* as if their input is in some way relevant, thoughtful or in the slightest bit important. For that, they can piss the shit off. Yes, I am most likely picking on a 12-year-old here. I’m not even sorry.

Next up is the control example, from CornelWest:

“You can have all the schooling in the world, but If you’re still on the surface, you’re not really educated.”

I’m sure there’s some fine philosophical meaning behind this, but all I get out of it is ‘you need to become a Morlock, otherwise you’re a stupid, stupid twat.’ Which, to be honest, is a damn fine message to put on the front page of Twitter.

But the absolute best of today’s crop has to be this gem of an uplifting, feel-good quote from quotemeifyoucan:

“Don’t try to be a star. Be the moon; it shines brighter than everything in the sky.”

First up is the astounding idiocy on show here in indicating that people should aspire to be either a burning fucking ball of fucking gas in space or a fucking lump of fucking rock in fucking space. That’s before we go into the real kicker here and point out that the only reason the moon shines as it does is because it reflects the light given off by the Sun. The Sun is actually the brightest thing in our sky, as far as I’m aware, and is actually – get this – a fucking star. Little sayings like this don’t just annoy cantankerous old twats like me, they’re actually harmful to society as a whole. Seriously, they are. You bring your little arsehole kids up to spout this nonsense and they will have little to no grasp on how utterly devoid of anything positive life can be, how unrelentingly awful people can be or how all you’re doing is cruising along, keeping your head down and waiting to fucking die. Also they’ll be irritating, chirpy little twunts that just need to shut up before I die of rage.

Fuck you everybody, good night.

*I mean, who in their right mind would ever comment openly on people they don’t actually know, or have any involvement with or contact with? Only a moron, quite clearly.**

**What I’ve done there is cleverly lampoon myself in a hilarious fashion. If you didn’t pick that up then piss off, you’re a moron.

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Burning nostalgia

Nostalgia is a powerful thing, as we’re all well aware – “ooooh, the past was really good like” they’ll say, “ooooh, I liked it when we were allowed to be racist in public” they’ll add. But it’s not all-encompassing, and I don’t just mean for the more negative aspects of the past. I’m currently burning a DVD, which is something I rarely – if ever – do anymore. To me, this is an action I would perform in the past, so therefore is something I could very easily be nostalgic about. But I’m not.

This is a good thing, as it shows to me that my mind isn’t actually completely insane. While some will hark back to the days where pop didn’t cost as much as if that’s anything that matters at all and others will bring up how much better off we were in the (more dangerous, less healthy) past I can safely say I am not that blinkered by daftness. Why? Because my brain hasn’t yet romanticised the act of burning data to a CD or DVD.

As a result of all this, I’m hopeful that future-Ian will be able to keep thinking along the same lines, and that I don’t allow clouded and confusing emotions to get in the way of a cold and calculated recollection of the past. When we’re using space-Twitter in the future I don’t want to be going on non-stop about how a 142 character limit (in space) will never be as good as “all we ever needed” in the shape of the 140 character limit of the past. When we’re riding on space-buses I sincerely hope I won’t be endlessly ranting about how the past-buses (or non-space-buses, as we called them) were better because travelling slower and for more money was a sign of quality.

I hope all this and I think all of this based on the fact that I’m currently burning a DVD. I have to say I miss the days when my brain wasn’t ridiculous.

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The day Ian Chaddock took over the world*

*Well, the internet, and only in the UK, but still. Hush.

(I refuse to sully this image with my face)

I have a friend called Ian Chaddock. A lot of people have this friend, as he is a very friendly person and a very nice person. Today is his birthday. As a result of these factors, someone decided it would be a fun little idea to make Ian Chaddock’s name a trending topic on Twitter (for those who don’t know what that means: if something is trending it’s being mentioned a lot). It seems a lot of us agreed with this idea, as at around 1pm today #ianchaddock was the top trending topic in the UK.

Is it wrong that I find this brilliant, hilarious and heartening? No. No it is not.

I am a cynical person, but Captain Haddock is a man who can perk me up whenever he wants. Even when he doesn’t want to. Even when he’s not even saying anything, or even looking at me. Thinking about his mere existence right now is making me smile. This is not a big gay love-in for the man, but an acknowledgement of the fact there are people in the world truly worthy of love and respect. Even if they do look like a giant toddler/Bender from Futurama in his human form.

It may be stupid, it may have provoked some comically over the top reactions from Twitter users unaware of who Kinny The Sack is (accusations of ‘wackiness’? WRONG. Birthday treat, dickweed). But none of that matters, because for a brief interlude today we managed to make Ian Chaddock the most important person in the UK*, just as he should be.

Happy birthday, mate. What have you been listening to? Do you want to go to the park?

*On Twitter.

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If you don’t want to know the results, look away now

I spend most Saturdays in the footballing season trying to avoid what the results have matches were. I am like the past and all male stereotypes rolled into one glorious whole/hole. I will not watch the news wherever possible, I will avoid news and sport-based websites (if I have to check the BBC site I will physically cover the area of the screen where I know the sport section is). This is because I want to wait until Match of the Day is on to see how things turned out: I like the element of surprise, and I barely see the point in watching it if I know how it’s going to turn out. Call me mental if you will.

But I have been suffering since I have started using one particular website more often. It seems that over the years Facebook has been relatively immune to this particular foible, but this one… hasn’t. I mean, of course, haven of twats (David Cameron said it, it must be true): Twitter. It has become a part of my regular favourites rotation, just to see what shite friends, workmates and other assorted writers/celebrities/comedians are saying. But I tend to forget that, on a Saturday (and Sunday), people seem to like thinking they’re operating radio bulletins and offer regular updates of scores in whatever matches are on. This means I often end up knowing two or three scores by the end of the day through no real fault of my own. It also means I get quite annoyed.

I suppose it opens up a rather interesting discussion concerning the dissemination of information in this highly technological (going by past standards) era we live in. In a world where a hell of a lot of information is available at all times, to everyone, it becomes a lot harder for those who actually don’t want to know something to avoid information. But while it does open up some reasonably interesting avenues to talk about, I can’t be bothered. I just didn’t want to know the football results.

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CERN, ending the world and laughing about it on Twitter

So they did it – the maniacs really did it. They turned on that giant party ring and blasted some shit quite quickly while the world sat around picking their arse and pretending to do something worthwhile. I am, of course, talking about Ricky Martin coming out as a big gay gay gay.

Oh ho ho – your expectations were confounded and from thence the humour arose. No, silly, I’m on about the CERN hadro-ultra-collide-o-tron-thing, of course. I’m amazed that I’ve been able to follow the massive haddock smasher live, as it happens, in my own time. Yes, kids – I’ve finally had an epiphany about why Twitter is really bloody good. I’ve been using it a while and I do get it – a bit – but I’ve never seen any real use for the thing bar random, pointless updates and the ability to get a response out of a celebrity (which makes you feel far better than it should – thanks, David Schneider). So it’s good to finally see a real use for the thing.

This Twitter thing meant we were all able to follow the progress on what our caveman gut reaction told us would abso-defi-lutely be the end of the world as we know it. We could all talk to each other throughout the process, exclaiming in a half-joking fashion that we were about to hide under the table from whatever impending doom the super colander brought about. We were also able to form humourous tweets about what the CERN updates were saying. For example, from my chum Rich: “RT @CERN We’d like to be the first to welcome our Benefactors.” (if you don’t know Half Life, you don’t get it. Move along.)

What this all means is – aside from the huge leap for science today has (probably) taken – thanks to the modern world and the way things is be need be are be, we were able to witness something huge taking place as it happened. We were able to witness it in 140-characters or less. And we were able to take the piss out of it as and when it happened. This has happened before, but this has to be the first time a scientific event of this magnitude has been welcomed with an immediate chorus of pure, distilled comedy.

I love the modern world.

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