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- Issue 7 > My guide to Twitter.
My guide to Twitter.
James Chartrand gets past his aversion and finds a lot to love about twitting and tweets.
'You should really get on Twitter, James. You'd love it. It's made for you.' Social media? I could care less.
I don't Digg very much and don't really understand how it works. It seems some kind of rigged game where the behind-the-scenes may not be very objective.
I liked StumbleUpon because the fast pace of thumbing up or down was sort of fun—for all of an hour. Then I kept forgetting to use it. I'm sure that now I give the finger more while driving than I give a thumbs up on the web.
I can't stand Facebook. Don't even go there. Facebook is childish and silly, and I have no interest in wasting my time while playing stupid games like vampire bites or how many virtual beers I have or who thinks I'm hot. I think I'm hot. That's enough for me.
I have a LinkedIn account somewhere, and I think I signed up for Plato Pulse at one point. I don't know how either of them work. I know how to click 'accept' when people invite me to join with them. Beyond that, I'm clueless.
So resisting the new fad of Twitter came easy. It sounded stupid. An application that asks me what am I doing? Working, that's what. Cleaning house. Caring for my kids. Washing dishes and cooking supper. Why do I want to tell people what I'm doing?
But Jon Philipps nagged. Michael Martine gave gentle pushes. And from what they said, I'd be the perfect Twitter addict. No one mentioned it outright, but I had the feeling that if I looked up Twitter target market, I'd probably see my picture staring back at me.
And I'm very big on new and shiny. I love gadgets and tools and toys and stuff to play with. Harry often chuckles that it's quite easy to lead me off course or defuse what I'm concocting simply by laying something bright in my path as a distraction.
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