Blonde's Eye View: Twitter-off

By Rob Virtue on July 8, 2009 2:44 PM |

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Angela Clarke

Angela Clake is holding firm in the face of twitterati

I was the last person to hear about the death of Michael Jackson, not because I was passed out in a tent at Glastonbury (as if I'd go anywhere near a muddy field), but because I'm not on Twitter.

Twitter is a micro-blogging service that enables people to post short comments for other users to read.

It also provides such things as weather reports, Wimbledon updates and even the latest Wharf headlines, and is apparently firing a revolution in Iran.

Not that I would know; I'm still trying to get to grips with Facebook.

My online social life occupies a frightening proportion of my day.

If I'd wanted to spend this much time glued to a computer screen, I'd have joined an IT department.

It was an act of rebellion when I elected not to join the Twitterati.

But all I ever hear about are the countless celebs that use the service and the juicy gossip there is on the site.

Twitter is awash with witty titbits from the likes of Stephen Fry, and pictures of Demi Moore's bottom.

Seeing Stephen's recent six-stone weight loss, I almost buckled. Maybe tweeting stops you from eating?

And I could do with a bit more room in my bikini. But unlike my thighs, I held firm.

For every satirical superstar, there are a thousand boring Twitter friends. Even the word sounds irritating - tweet, tweet; like a little yappy bird pecking away at your skull.

I couldn't care less that you have just eaten marmalade on toast, or that you are stuck in traffic on the M25. I do not need to share the banal details of your life.

Nothing summed it up better than the live screening of La Traviata in Canary Wharf recently.

Ten thousand people were also watching in Trafalgar Square and when asked if they would be tweeting during the performance, there was a deafening 'no'.

Well, why would you when you have sunshine, supper, good music, and a life to be getting on with?