Twitterpated

Lately I have been sucked into a cultural phenomenon called Twitter. It all started when I was sent an article last week written by Lore Sjoberg, in which he described it as "something like a collection of personal blogs, only each entry is limited to 140 characters, so you end up with a vertical stack of bite-size, artificially flavored communication snacks. They're oddly compelling while remaining staunchly unsatisfying, and it always feels like maybe the next one will quell the roiling ennui inside. Like an elderly widow keeping the TV on for "company," I keep a Twitter window open whenever I'm online, and accept that as sort of, kind of communication."

My morbid curiousity led me to check it out. And OMIGOSH it's SO MUCH FUN. And it's so easy that you wonder why you keep a blog at all when you can tell the world what you're doing in real time, using your cell phone, and with no pressure to be wordy about it. You HAVE to keep it short. You can also follow various twitterers and get their messages in real-time. So at any given point in the day, your phone will buzz with a text telling you that Lea Ann's bowling or Maggie's concerned about her neighbors: "Neighbor? You are vomiting, shitting, copulating, birthing, moving furniture, or suffering withdrawal. Do you need a casserole or something?"

So here I am. Twittering like a junkie. And in case you were wondering what hole I sank into the past few days, it's all here.