Why I Tweet

I hate Twitter. Here's why I Tweet.

I'm a bit of a binge Tweeter. I can't afford to do it from any mobile devices and therefore only do it when logged on. So I'll go to Twitter a couple of times a day and splurge out a bunch of tweets in a row, sometimes related to each other and sometimes just random. Those following me probably get sick of it, but they can always stop following. I have no idea why anyone would follow the turgid rants and moans of this grumpy old man, but a few do.

So why do I do it? I don't know. I hate it. Maybe it's one of those habits I rent and therefore can't afford to break. Perhaps it's the interminable loneliness of the long-distance PhD-er who cries out into the wilderness "is anybody out there?" only to receive the reply of "Eating a battenburg slice, listening to Fat Freddie's Drop".
And yet I can't stop. I tried, once, only reading and not writing but then felt the tweet force in my fingers and before I knew it I had tapped and updated and there I was again, placing more meaningless pixels into the ether, forcing servers all over the world to feed this vacuous 140 character pulp to followers, most of whom I've never met, only a couple of whom I know in real life and none who I go for a drink with on a regular basis. Strange world we have built.

Twitter has attracted an architectural contingent of which, I think, I am on the margins. I tend to follow this architectural Twitterati (neither of my real friends who I really meet have a Twitter account) as it weaves its eclectic narrative, casting judgment and consensualising taste. The people I follow are mainly linked to this group, forming a new high-tech version of a closed circle. I don't see the point of following anybody famous like @alaindebotton or @stephenfry.

But most of all, it's interesting to see how it's used. Twitter takes Facebook's one simple question, "what are you doing?" and gives 140 characters to compose an piece of aphoristic haiku poetry. Some people do simply answer this question, but most use it as a kind of very abbreviated speaker's corner. Conversations emerge that would perform better in a chat room or even a message board. These platforms are considered geeky, however, and Twitter's advantage is its simplicity and slick interface. There are very few hoops to jump through or rules to observe and the etiquette is pretty much up for grabs. I doubt many, if any, of the architectural Twitterati would subscribe to a chat room and do there what they do on Twitter. The amazing thing is how often people update. Don't they have real things to do? Don't I? Yes. But I don't smoke, so can consider this my fag break without having to go outside. Maybe every loo will soon be fitted with a Twitter interface to guarantee being regular.

I try not to share links of things I've found on the internet. That's what delicious is for. Although I don't really use delicious, so I do sometimes break this self-imposed rule. I never, ever tweet a blog post I've just written. Mainly because I rarely blog at the moment, but also because a blog's a blog and a tweet's a tweet and feeds are available for a reason. I'll occasionally share a photo. But generally I try to keep it random. Sometimes heavy, sometimes light, sometimes personal, sometimes architectural. I often have my tongue in my cheek, but that attitude has got me into trouble many times in the past. I'll share the odd thought with Twitter if I'm online because most of the time, I don't have anyone else to share it with. I'll have forgotten it by the time I get home to my wife. Twitter doesn't laugh. But it doesn't groan either. I've started tweeting the books I'm reading as an archive for myself. I don't really consider an "audience". It's just mouthing off and occasionally archiving. There's definitely a propensity to justify my existence and be completely self-obsessed. This twitter character I've constructed is stranger than the blog one and not very like the real me. If people met me in vivo, I'm sure they'd wonder where the in silico version went because in reality I'm quite a shy, quiet person lacking in confidence, whereas in twitter format, it's only possible for me to be a man of words whose 140 characters are the same height as everyone else's.

Then there's the image. Big dilemma - should I put something abstract? If so, should it be related to who you are or be completely arbitrary? Will people judge me if it's not something interesting/clever/pretty? Or should I put a head shot? If so, should it be a full-frontal nude, or half a three-quarter obscured? Or a cartoon version? Or just a picture of something I like. How often should I change it? I've opted for the thing that means most to me in life, my son.

Sometimes it's an exercise in self-censure when you have to fit your words into the 140 character allowance. I hate myself when I see the counter go negative and red. Even more than when my bank balance goes the same way. But my bank balance is always like that whereas with Twitter, there is always the chance that I'll stay in the black. Then there are the ellipses which is the cheater's device to run one update to the next. Unfortunately, you can't read Twitter up-side-down and so to catch up with a "conversation" or to read several of these cheating devices together, you have to go bottom-up, which I still can't get used to.

Watching a Twitter "conversation" reminds me of some crits. Somebody mentions something trivial to which others will attach and the mentioner can wish (s)he'd never said it. Didn't even really mean anything. Then it's a downward spiral and impossible to recover from. Similarly with opinions - the person who gets there first usually sets the tone of the opinion. People tend to chime in if they agree and keep quiet if not. Unless it's a hot topic, in which case the debate can turn into a flame war just as in a chat room. There's never any real debate, however, as the 140 character censor turns everything into "good" and "bad" with little opportunity to generate a sensitive, considered argument.

I doubt if Twitter will still be popular in a year's time, which is good because I freakin' hate it. I agree with @WillSelf that "one day we will look back at this and weep".
You can follow me on @steveparnell. But don't. Seriously.