(Toast with peanut butter and sliced bananas, fyi.)
Or, alternately– I’d like to say I am too cool and am anti band-wagoneering (but am totally promaking up my own words), and wont join any group that will have me. A friend of a friend is now addicted to Twitter but wants to keep it a secret because she’s embarrassed for liking it. I hate the hipster-y manifesto that if things that are too popular (i.e. not underground) they become automatically un-cool. But I love the way I get to shrug Twitter off blaming that same rule.
[Tangent: Does that mean that records are still cool or un-cool now? All of the uber-cool, ironically dressed ‘dudes’ I went to college with loved records and talking about record collections and sound quality or somesuch shit. But if kids that are that much younger than me, and can’t even remember records (and my own recollection is foggy), will laud them due to that other Hipster Tenet of ‘retro obsessions’—does that mean talking about records is in fact not cool anymore?]
I do hate the ad agency way of using Twitter trying to capitalize on what the correct demographic is doing. It feels disingenuous. Like R&B music video styled fast food commercials.
People fear what they don’t understand and I don’t know how to use it and I don’t think learning will make me cooler or younger. (For the record I felt the same way when I first heard about mini-CD’s. One outta two ain’t bad.) Breakfast posts and gratuitous pizza/bathroom shots aside; I find it kind of pointless and also kind of creepy. A voluntary live-feed for Big Brother. If you will excuse my geekery for a moment but I can see it morphing into a RL RPG*. It’s the herald of a new era of actual virtual reality… if a tree falls in the forest and no one twits about it did it happen? (No.) Granted you have to do actual things in your real life in order to twit about it
But I’ll defend it from my outsider standpoint to friends of mine who are even more technologically geriatric (and whose insides are filled with more haterade, vitriol, spite and dirty looks tossed at the cheerleaders’ lunch table than even I can employ). But that’s only because I like to be the coolest of the uncool kids. I’ll fwd them the cool/funny/relevant Twitter related links like a Black Eyed Pea induced black eye or that indie musician who made an obscene amount of cash simultaneously liveTwitting and indieEbay-ing (yeah more made up words). It’s selfish because I am just halfway hoping maybe if they bandwagon (pulling their cart along by foot like the Flintstones), I‘ll get dragged along too and get hoisted up in the cab by proximity. But to no avail. They’ll just grumble something about slow dial-up and ask how to set the clock on the VCR.