Once, I wrote, slickly and flatly, of the works of writer Alain de Botton. "Every bit as tasty and redolent of meat as vegan sausage," I said. Upon receiving an impeccably written remedial email from de Botton's account, I did think then about quitting Twitter.
I should have. Since then, I have written hundreds of other Tweets; few of them with any more merit than Shane Warne's misfired texts.
The technological accident, of course, is not inevitable. Just as most people who board a train will get to where they're going unharmed, relatively few who use Twitter will engage in snark, strip-tease or industrial action. They'll use it stay in touch with people, celebrities and the news.
The medium may continue to be both "magical" and, as some evangelists would have it, "revolutionary". I don't know. I'll never see the alchemy.
I think I'll even shut down my Linux PC for a bit and live my life in a slow recovery from its endless, snarky narration.
And I'll do this without an iPad and at an ordinary pace.
A fascinating piece from Helen Razer. People used to say that Kerouac's work was typing not writing but Twitter is a whole extra step into a world where there is no thought or consideration. Kerouac, of course, was a writer and planned his work before embarking on long benzedrine fuelled 'writing' sessions - yet, you do wish that he had done some more editing and reflection. And why a bunch of people would want to twitter about the Logies is way beyond me.