I signed up for Twitter a week ago at the request of a family member, and after resisting for so long, I’ve found it to be exactly what I expected: equal parts fascinating and ridiculous. I’ve read the stories about how powerful it was this summer in Iran, and the stories calling that into question. I’ve looked up what a “hashtag” is and wondered what Ashton Kutcher could possibly be saying that is so interesting. (I still don’t know.) I’ve marveled at my ability to look up what people near me are tweeting, and been amazed by how little I care.
One Slate article I read highlights the 90% of users of the service who don’t write often… or at all. Orphaned Tweets collects messages sent by those who “sign up for Twitter, post once, then never return.” They offer strange and often hilarious glimpses into anonymous lives: kttheet was “Wearing a gigantic t-shirt (2XL),” and anord04 was “eating a miniature pie.” DouglasAllen, in his first and only tweet, wrote: “I am writing an email to the makers of Spray N Wash to thank them for making a product that got the blood stains out of my new PJs and robe.”
Click on these accounts and you’ll find most of them have now been updated, after a year or more of inattention, presumably due to this very article. The second kttheet post assures us “My clothing is now appropriately sized,” and anord04 seems to be enjoying his new fame, as he is currently “Making fun of people for following me on twitter.” DouglasAllen, however, has never revealed what came of those blood stained pajamas. I fear we may never know.
This Joyful Noise 