Renegade Anti-Twotter

3 Aug

I meant Anti-Twitter. Oh, come on, you mean to tell me that the only way I can get my blog recognized is to Tweet about it? I can’t even use the word Tweet with a straight face. It’s embarrassing. I cringe. Moreover, the “but-everybody’s-doing-it” mentality makes me gag and barf.

I also hate the word blog. But I have one. I got used to it. I still hate the word blogosphere. Then there’s social networking. I like the word social. I hate the word networking. Why is the information age so annoying? And yet so convenient that eventually you give in. What choice do you have? Blogs that actually have readership all suggest the same things:

  1. Consistency and timeliness of posts
  2. Unique, audience worthy content
  3. Self-promotion via social networking

I actually considered Twitter today. I’ve been bucking tweets for Twitter’s entire existence.  Sure, on some days I have crickets and tumbleweed rolling across my blog stats.  Not gonna lie. I’m no pro. But I have standards. Freaking Twain didn’t Twot (ha. I said twot.) or Tweet or whatever the past tense of twittering is. Nor did any of the likes of the antique literati. Folks, ask yourselves: What would Hemingway do?

My dream has always been to write books. Books! Tangible and now apparently antiquated…possibly retro? What beats a bound story that you hold in your hands and feel the dry, thin paper between thumb and forefinger as you turn each type-print page? Ahhh, the comfort of a book with riffled pages and dog eared corners. You can’t dog ear Kindle. You also can’t leave Kindle on a park bench or at a bus stop with a note scrawled inside saying something about hoping the person who finds it enjoys it as much as you did.

The lure to be published is strong enough to consider sacrifice of myself to the little pastel blue bird and one hundred and forty characters. Yet, the distraction is just too great. I seek to keep life simple.

Sure, life is about adaptation. A fable:  I rode the sweet cruiser (below) to yoga yesterday evening and the partner in crime told me my tire is low. We stopped at the gas station for air and as I fumbled around getting increasingly annoyed when I couldn’t get the air hose fitted to the tire he said, If it doesn’t work that way, try it from a different angle. You always gotta try different angles. Adapt and overcome. (his military training is reflex).

I give myself wiggle room yet still cling steadfast to the old school. Let this be a tribute. I’m going to see what I can do on my own at the level of technology to which I’ve already made a commitment. Let’s document how far I get without the cute little bird and the cute little obsession with cute little tweets, hmmmm?

I may change my mind. But not today.

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One Response to “Renegade Anti-Twotter”

  1. Chloe August 22, 2010 at 3:30 am #

    Sorry it’s taken me a while to revisit your blog – but boy, am I glad I did?!!! Your writing is fantastic! 😀 😀 It always makes me smile!!!!

    I totally agree with your sentiments here about feeling obligated (and yet trying SOOOoooo hard to resist) to keep up with the ‘information age’. Not sure if you’ve seen my poem “Enormity of Conformity” – take a look if you have the time http://chloerichmond.wordpress.com/2010/02/05/enormity-of-conformity/

    Chloe xx 😀

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