Twitter is a site that allows users to send little status messages in whenever they feel like it: via many channels. Text, Instant Message, a web page, and even client apps can all be used.
Why? There is no why. Just do.
(OK, I’m still struggling with the “why”, too. But that struggle is waning, as you will see.)
Being a good little Web 2.0 app it has a well developed social networking aspect to it (as well as several missing vowels in the domain name – twttr – back when I first looked at it a few months ago). You can find “friends” and “follow” their messages; these are sent back to you by any or all of the channels mentioned above.
I like using it for haiku, having seen a couple people do this already. This is all I’ve done in the last 24 hours. It’s addictive. I announced my intent last night mid-evening:
Twitter is for what?
apart from exhibition.
maybe for haiku?
The form seems to grant the words a pleasing air of shallow mysticism and fake profundity, as well as lending enough constraint to allow for a small challenge.
And so, sometimes I am a good husband:
R.‘s back’s bad
Cup of char, and choc
[Incidentally I can thoroughly recommend Whittaker’s Almond Gold Slabs as a remarkably effective painkiller and anti-inflammatory. After taking one of these, R.’s backache disappeared and so far has not returned.]
At the crack of dawn this morning, using Twitterific, a rather nice client app for the Mac:
early morning wake
house silent, girls deep resting
make my lunch and go
Then it was time to walk to work. Along the way, I used my phone to text in another:
Morning chill, walk fast.
(Orangi Kaupapa Road.)
Harbour flat below.
There’s nothing like Web 2.0 apps to make sure one’s banal life is distributed as widely as possible! Of course, at this point the technology let me down. But there was an upside:
No more Super Furries tracks
Listen to Tuis
It was a very nice day outside, not that I had much of it with a long morning meeting. So by lunchtime I was ready to get out:
Finishing my lunch
I must skive off outside for
And on the way back to work, a stop at Mojo before a hefty all afternoon meeting (I get meeting-related narcolepsy all too easily):
Wait for my flat white
And then finally, it was over. Home on a Stagecoach bus (get it?)
What a happy hour:
Meeting over, workday done.
Home James! Spare no horse!
And now, at the end of the evening, it’s time for another unnecessary status update. After all, it’s getting late and I really need a good kip. How about:
Foolish waste of time!
(The Procrastinator strikes.)
Dishes. Then to bed!