kevfrost

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

An alcoholic gives up vodka and muses whilst sipping whiskey

So Im now nearly 24hrs without twitter and my major reflection is summed up in the title. I am clearly plugged into digital networks to a huge degree, and stopping using one of my favourites in isolation is, for want of a better phrase, a bit daft.

So things I'm missing about twitter:
-Being able to hop into an alternative mental reality whenever I want, with some of the greatest people I know
-Having news that Ive tailored to my interests. Yes I want to know the minutiae of that and what she is eating.
-Being able to clown around with people that don't mind it
-Heated debate about random yet vital ideas
-Being able to express myself about anything I want to people who choose to listen.

All of the above won't be much surprise to any one who's used social media for a while of course. . .

And it turns out I'm not alone in considering a non-religious religious rite. . .

The question I'm musing on now is how do I differentiate the connections between my mind and technology which are social media and those which aren't. Today Ive used at least three 1990s web technologies for functions I normally use twitter for. Im still connecting with many people to develop relations. Does the use matter rather than the tools?

Id never go as far as trying to live without the internet these days, any more than Id try to live without leaving my house.

(And I'm deliberately using the spelling for bourbon rather than scotch whisky before *he* moans)

Practicing good behaviour (#GivingUpTwitterForLent pt2)

Giving up something relatively trivial for a period of time is useful as a demonstration to yourself of your motivations and your automatic behaviours.

I've noted before that, for me, the idea of telling people your goals is self-defeating. Apparently for many, the thought of having other people cheering you on is beneficial; whereas I find it intimidating to the point of suffocation. The one exception to this is occasionally I react towards someone's disbelief in the manner of "well, I'll show you!"

Im catching a few automatic behaviours, and have nearly opened up twitter a half dozen times already. The urge to deliver a bon mot, a sharp remark or a trite comment has arisen a few times too. Alas, these declarations of genius are lost in time; like tears in rain.

And of course, Im using trivial only in terms of Twitter not being an addiction any more than shopping at Morrisons. Im already collecting thoughts on what Im missing on Twitter. Love you guys ;-)

Giving up twitter for lent

On a whim, Ive decided to give up twitter for lent. So until Maundy Thursday or Easter Sunday (have to check when 40 days is up) that means

1) no checking timeline
2) no responding to mentions (@'s)
3) no posting tweets

I will still get notifications of direct messages and read/reply these though (in case of urgency/importance).

Why? Well to see. It's not like I'm dropping social media - all other channels are fully open (should still be a link from my profile to my about.me page). However, twitter is definitely a habit and one should always explore what habits are doing to you.

And the irony of this blogpost being automatically set up to generate a tweet is a) allowed b) done with full knowledge of it's irony.

Sunday, 5 February 2012

Blog post erm deferred

This evening I posted about a series of tweets which occured this afternoon which gave me some thoughts about how the retweet of a twitter message by a professional account changes the context of the message. Whilst I stand by everything that went in that post, rather than take the risk of inflaming that storm-in-a-teacup any further, I've deleted it and in a few weeks I'll repost it.

In case there is any doubt, no disrespect was intended to any party and the post was fully anonymised. I was merely pointing out potential learning points to aid our collective understanding of social media.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

There's only one thing worse than being talked about...

By pure chance, yesterday I discovered that Googling the name of one of my colleagues at work brings up a Yorkshire Post news story about something they were involved with 3 years ago. The story isn't earth shattering, it's one of those "they did something maybe a bit naughty and a lot of people got very cross, but it all worked out okay in the end" type stories which are full of heat without major substance. I wonder if they are aware, and whether it's a cross they've just decided to bear.

It brought to mind a time that a new employee was appointed to a senior position more recently and, for want of any information about him, we googled them. Google had absolutely nothing to say, nor Yahoo, nor Bing. If you knew where to look, his credentials could be confirmed; but not a single triumph or disaster, nor a single merit or flaw were recorded in the Great Library of the Internet.

To me there's one thing worse being talked about on the Internet, and that's never having done a thing worthy of being said.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Album 156: The Band

They have beards. It's just the sort of music you can imagine men with beards like that made at the end of the 60s. You couldn't have a beard like that if you were doing folk or prog-rock or glam or any of the other music the early 70s were known for. Even the Beatles didn't have beards like that in '69.

If you're going to call your band that name, you'd better have better tunes than this.

4/10

The Band – The Band

Advent Avatar

One day late, I've decided to do something for Advent. Of course, it's weird being an
atheist doing anything vaguely associated with the coming of The Christ; but if Christians can recycle the germanic fertility festival of Eostre as a celebration of resurrection - why not?

Anyways each of the days leading up to Christmas, I'm changing my Twitter avatar to that of a character or historical figure who has, in some way, influenced me. I'd struggle to call them either heroes or role models, because often they're not; but I am who I am because of how their life has made a gravity well through which my life has tumbled through like a comet stumbling through the social universe with little more than an ability to make convoluted metaphors and write sentences that go on on and on until they are stopped in a way that seems more like a mercy killing than a conclusion.

Still with me? Good, here's the people so far:

December 1: I hadn't thought of this yet

December 2: Oscar Wilde, a genius of the Victorian age before being crushed by it's dark side.