Another product of my sickbed haze is that I joined Twitter. No, that’s a lie. I actually rejoined, after joining a few weeks ago to see what the fuss was about, and then un-joining after feeling dirty somehow, as if my synapses were going to re-wire themselves to think in 140 characters or less. OK, so, yes I’ve re-joined, but I still don’t quite get it. There’s nothing that compelling, although admittedly, because I follow Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore the bulk of my updates are their mini-declarations of love to each other (often with the Kabbalah “love and light” sign off.) Mildly interesting, yes, but I still don’t understand how this is zeitgeist. Although if Demi Moore can talk someone out of killing themselves via Twitter, I guess it is. I think the only compelling rationale for staying is the early updates it may provide as to imminent celebrity meltdowns, which is why I’m now following Ms. Mariah Carey.
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