Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts

Monday, 12 March 2012

Why Social Media is Good For the Mind



“I need you to read this and tell me what happened,” says my sister, thrusting a copy of Haruki Murakami’s A Wild Sheep Chase into my hands, “I don’t think it made sense. Although it might actually be the middle of three, which would explain it…”

Once Upon a Time I would have balked at this request.

“You want me to deliberately read a series Out Of Order?” I would have shrieked in a dramatic mixture of caps lock and italics, “What kind of MONSTER do you think I AM???!!!11”

On this occasion though, I shrug and acquiesce – not because my instinct did not tell me to read Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 first (turns out the book is the last of the set), but because I have become accustomed to reading things backwards.

“But why?” you probably aren’t bothering to shout.

The answer, dear reader, is social networking.

For those who don’t know (people based in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland where the internet is regarded as black magic; and the population of China*), sites like the Facebook and the Twitter work in real time. This means that when you log in you get the most recent messages people have posted and have to work backwards to find out what everyone’s complaining about / laughing at / watching on TV. It’s sort of like being the star of your very own slightly banal detective story.

Almost everyone has had a go at social networking even if they can’t see the point of it (and indeed I realized - as I was contemplating changing to the new Facebook timeline yesterday - that I've been using that site for about seven years) - so it stands to reason this way of taking in information would begin to filter through to other walks of life like some kind of insidious metaphor. It seems only logical that as more people sign up, human perception of time and compulsion to do things in a particular order will break down ever further.

“Whaddya mean, 1, 2, 3?” we will shout at the generation of children born to us in a future where Twitter is implanted into our retinas like a nightmare Charlie Brooker had once, “this isn’t the Stone Age! What’s the matter with 3, 2, RT 2, OMG RT 2, 1?”

In this future, book series are read backwards as standard, government advice suggests Lost only be viewed from the final episode of series eighty seven, and government legislation ensures Monopoly starts with everyone bankrupt and in jail.

It may sound strange and frightening now, but by and large I think all of this is A Good Thing. Reading backwards is great exercise for the brain and helps us empathise with our dyslexic cousins, who read everything out of order all the time and are more creative human beings as a result.

Furthermore, it turns out reading Murakami the wrong way round only makes him more interesting and this is how I shall approach IQ84. To find out how that goes, join me on Twitter… (@periwinklewine)

*this is an hilarious joke at the expense of Chinese governmental restrictions which include a Facebook ban, but actually they have their own versions of these sites so it probably doesn’t apply there at all.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Twitter

Today I want to talk to you about Twitter; or more specifically, hashtags (#).

On Twitter, hashtags help people who are all tweeting about the same thing to find other tweets about the same thing.

So, if you're watching something on TV and also tweeting about it (which is the main function of the site if you’re a comedian or arts journalist) you can put a hashtag at the end of your message, which then automatically becomes a link. Click on said link, and it takes you to a list of all the other tweets on the subject.

When loads of people are using the same hashtag to talk about something it becomes a trending topic, which means Twitter features it on the right hand side of the page. This can wind up being a funny mix of things, because people use the hashtag in a variety of ways.

- One way is to break or gather news stories. Today STV Edinburgh started the #whyedinburghrocks tag so they could put together a list of reasons using Storify.

- It can also be used to ask questions – the BBC are quite good at this, and often tell listeners or viewers a hashtag to use at the start of a programme so you can discuss it online. Similarly, this weekend I am doing an online Q&A with The Edinburgh Reporter about 12 books, where people can submit a question via Twitter using the tag #askaligeorge.

- You can also use hashtags to connect with other people of similar interests. When I tweet about the 12 books project I quite often use the #amwriting tag so other writers know it's a post that might be interesting for them. Similarly anyone attending the West Port Book Festival in Edinburgh over the next four days can use the hashtag #wpbf11 to find out what events are going on and what other punters will be at them.

- Another popular use is to play games (a recent favourite of mine was #hiphopgroceries - Will.I.Ham, for instance. Twitter is full of people who are overly fond of punning.)

- And some people use it to share advice. For example, at lunchtime today, one of the top trends was #arealboyfriend – aimed at facilitating discussion as to the best way a boyfriend can behave towards his partner. Some of these made me laugh a lot, although I fear that was not necessarily the intent.

I made a list of my highlights, anyway.

#arealboyfriend chase after you when you walk away
- That could be a boyfriend, or it could be a total stranger with mugging in mind. Just saying, boyfriends aren't the only people that give chase.

#arealboyfriend doesn't annoy you and make you cry.
- Duh, yes he does. If he never annoys you then you either don’t care/notice what he does, or you’re a robot, or you’re deluding yourself. A good boyfriend likely doesn’t do these things on purpose, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do them at all.

#ARealBoyfriend sees the pain in your eyes, while everyone else believes the smile on your face.
- This was from a man whose profile said he respecks females. I think he may be trying too hard. That or I have no soul.

#arealboyfriend kisses you on the forehead.
- So does your mum.

#arealboyfriend will give up his hoes !
- And other gardening equipment, the bastard.

#ARealBoyfriend will finger u ont bus
- LOL. How inappropriate.

#arealboyfriend plays an important role in the ecosystem as a pollinator, with larva considered problematic to vegetation in agriculture.
- Science wins again.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Apocalypse Now

Apocalyptic weather conditions left many people stranded at random destinations across the country last night, prompting many to ask the question:

Why does nature hate public transport?

Snowmageddon may seem like a distant memory for some, but only because they’ve put in the concerted effort to remove the months of pain, frustration and mild frostbite from their minds. And now that summer ought to be upon us, it is the turn of the wind to behave like some sort of chilly weather bastard.

Reports appeared yesterday that cars were crushed beneath trees, beloved family pets decapitated by falling roof tiles, and little old ladies whisked off into the air, never to be seen again. All this, with the promise of Icelandic ash to follow. And it makes you wonder, does it not, what the blithering chutney is going on.

The ironically named Reverend Iain Scientist (BSc) suggested these words by way of explanation:

“The gods are angry. You must all repent now for your materialistic ways; for your illegally downloaded music, and pizza for breakfast on the weekends, and comparatively well run public transportation network. If you don’t return to a simpler way of life, the Western Isles will be blown so far out to see that even satellites won’t be able to find them again.”

Reverend Scientist went on to say that thereafter would follow “a plague of owls as big as a man’s torso,” and reports have been filtering through on Twitter that a group of these have been sighted in Inverness today.

“At the moment they appear to be feeding predominantly on foxes and large dogs,” said ornithologist and TV personality Bill Oddie, who phoned us just now for a chat, “but should they start to crave human flesh we’re done for. Could you fight off a carnivorous owl the size of a man? Of course not.”

If you’ll excuse us, we’re off to repent by cutting up our Ridacards.

Friday, 1 April 2011

30 Day Song Challenge - Day Twenty

A song that you listen to when you're angry.

I don't particularly listen to music when I'm angry. I'm more likely to shout at Captain Tact, or possibly tell Twitter.

Last weekend I was a bit angry about a thing - a couple of things, actually - and as if it could read my mood, shuffle produced the following.



It didn't help, as such. But it didn't make me any more angry either.

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Vidjo

A friend posted this on Facebook and I felt the need to share.

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Comedian Makes Child Cry

The article below was written for this site here. You should like it on Facebook, follow it on Twitter, then forget all about it as is your wont.

In other news, at midnight last night I completed a first draft of my first book for 12 Books in 12 Months, and Let's Get Lyrical kicks off in earnest today so there's some chat about long haired American pop group Hanson on my other blog.

The usually optimistic worldview of our great British nation was severely tested today when renowned biped Michael McIntyre made a small child cry in front of a live audience.


The child, aged 9, went on so-called television show Britain’s Got Talent to deliver a spectacularly unfunny comedy routine.


McIntyre reportedly buzzed him out with a string of abuse that included comments such as, “Bet your mother wishes she’d had that abortion now!” and, “I’ve seen funnier war crimes!”


His unkind words prompted a fierce response from heavily medicated co-host David “Jump In My Car” Hasselhoff, who leapt out of his seat and punched McIntyre in the mouth before proclaiming the whimpering child the best darn comedian since Chevy Chase.
All of which happened before said kid had cracked any jokes.


OK, so I’m exaggerating. What actually happened was that McIntyre asked the child who his favourite comedian was, got the response ‘Harry Hill’, and McIntyre buzzed him (the Britain’s Got Talent way of telling you to fuck the fuck off). Hilariously, the child then descended into floods of tears.


Even though this might be the funniest thing McIntyre has ever done, he is now backpedaling furiously to apologise for the joke. Supposedly it’s inappropriate to treat children in this way – as if they were nothing more than tiny adults, I mean. Because we all know the best way to teach kids things is actually to patronize and talk down to them.


If that child were 19 rather than 9, McIntyre’s joke would probably have got a huge laugh. But just because he is quite short and does not yet know his times tables, it’s been labeled as tantamount to abuse. Frankly, if this kid wants to be a stand up, he’s going to have to learn to take a joke - however weak it may be.


He’s also going to need a method of dealing with hecklers that doesn’t involve crying.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Student Protests

Captain Tact was texting me at my temp job earlier today to register his disgust at the way the press have covered the London student protests. Prior to hearing from him, all I’d read was part of a statement from the head of the MET describing the trouble makers as “a small but significant” minority, although the attack on the royals had filtered through my caffeine deprived senses to a certain extent.

“What are they saying,” I texted back, looking through old biology papers to see if the diagram I needed to do had been drawn before. It had not.

“Mainly banging on about the desecration of war memorials and attacks on the royal family. Nothing about the people stuck on the bridge.”

It transpired that one of the captain's friends, currently studying in London, had gone along to the protest at 3pm but on seeing the violence he decided to leave. He was prevented from doing so, detained on Westminster Bridge for over four hours without access to food, water, or the other accoutrements to which he has become accustomed.

“That’s what they always focus on,” I responded, adverbally. “Good news isn’t news, hence no mention of the protests in Scotland [which have all been pretty peaceful]… This is where social media helps because we can hear the other side to it almost as it happens. Sod the press. We know the truth and can pass it on.”

Having said that, not everyone in the world is using social media to follow the likes of Laurie Penny and Shiv Malik as they take to the streets of London. Especially not when they’re supposed to be working. And even fewer are aware of intrepid Edinburgh journos tirelessly following the boringly peaceful events up here. In which case, I suppose the captain has a point – the vast majority of people are presumably only getting the headlines given them by the national papers.

I thought I’d use my lunch break to find out what those were. Everyone said the same thing.

The Guardian had - “live coverage of all the latest news and reaction to the protests, in which the Prince of Wales’s car was attacked.”

The Daily Telegraph – “Prince Charles and Camilla attack: someone could have been shot”

The Mail – “Rioting mob who attacked Charles and Camilla were lucky not to be shot.”

The Sun – “Royal Car Attacked – Charles and Camilla stunned as demo yobs wreck limo.”

The Daily Mirror, meanwhile, came up with the restrained, “CAMILLA ATTACK TERROR”, but sadly I can’t actually get on to the News of the World website at work to see their thoughts because it is blocked for being ‘tasteless and offensive’.

Scottish papers joined in too. The Press and Journal went with the boring but accurate “Charles and Camilla caught up in riot over tuition fees”; The Herald opted for the musical sounding “The Fire of London”; whilst the Scotsman website posted “Royal Car attacked as student rioters run riot in London.” Darn those riot-running rioters.

This one headline – PAINT THROWN AT CAR, NOBODY HURT – is arguably not the most interesting part of what went on in Parliament Square yesterday. What about INNOCENT BYSTANDERS TRAPPED ON BRIDGE or Laurie Penny’s afore-linked eyewitness account which can be partially summarised by, POLICE BATTER CHILDREN.

Presumably those headlines aren’t dramatic enough? They mainly involve good for nothing students who want the government they voted for to honour their pre-election promises, which is boring. And nobody can empathise with students, they’ve all got ideas above their station and smell of toast. Meanwhile the story everyone went for in the end (that was Charles and Camilla getting a horrible fright, lest we forget) had violence worthy of caps lock. And celebrities to boot! Kind of…

Coincidentally, right after having this conversation, filmmaker Chris Salt aka @oblongpictures reiterated my initial point by tweeting:

Why protests turn bad: 5live yesterday “All very calm at the moment so no real story yet. We’ll cross live if there are any developments.”

‘Developments’ meaning bad behaviour from protesters, or the involvement of famous people.

I am curious to know why people in a creative industry like the media can’t find an attention grabbing headline in the fact that 30, 000 odd people turned up to protest in the first place. Surely that’s interesting? Isn’t it indicative of something? Nobody thinks they all turned up to chuck flares at police horses – but why were they there? Have any of them examined the new policy in detail? Is it really as bad as all that?

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

My Actual Day

Earlier on I was reading about the bravery of my fellow countrypersons who have been forced into action by snowmageddon, and it has compelled me to break my 8 day not-quite-silence on the subject.

Reports indicate that Scots have been handing out crisps, pushing cars about, and even complaining about the authorities as the M8, M80 and M74 were blocked with snow and drivers trapped in their cars yesterday and today. Such behaviour would never be countenanced in warmer times.

STV have been collecting people’s stories for their website, and it occurred to me that my own tale of an ordinary joe's snow misery was yet to be told. By me, anyway.

Zip!

The only bus currently serving my road flies by me this morning because it’s already full of commuters. I am comparatively unphased on account of already being hideously late but the reaction of the very young children who have always been on time for school is quite funny. In other news, I don't think dad gave them a once over before leaving the house this morning. The little girl has bare legs and according to my Met Office App it's -8°. Maybe she's in training to be some sort of decathlon competitor and it was an endurance exercise. Do they run decathlons for seven year olds? Probably.

Zap!

I am concerned that one of the office managers might be missing part of her brain, as she spent the morning organizing people to go through to Glasgow for a meeting tomorrow. Someone doesn’t use Twitter. Or read the news. I don’t know whether I should tell her to stop being so stupid, because I’m not really meant to be reading Twitter or the news myself. What a conundrum.

Zop!

On my way back home I nearly die; first in Dalkeith where I have to navigate my way along the top of a two-foot wall of snow that towers above the pavement like something out of The Snow Queen; then coming down Leith and Broughton Streets where the gritting efforts have resulted in loose, slushy snow lying over the top of sheet ice.

Zim!

Shuffle decides to play ‘Let It Snow’. Never let it be said in my presence that an inanimate object can’t have a sense of humour, because I will tell you this story again and again until you admit that you are wrong.


OK, none of this is very impressive. I haven’t dug any small children out of drifts with my bare hands, or tramped up and down the motorway handing out tea and biscuits. I haven’t even gone out to watch other people doing that stuff so I can report it. All I’ve done is slide about, get wet, and swear a bit.

Snow makes me boring.

Although, I did cling film the windows in the bedroom in an effort to keep some heat in.


Wednesday, 15 September 2010

Pope Visits Edinburgh

“I have a green pen,” Susan Boyle announced today, a mere 24 hours before the papal visit.

These apparently innocent words have thrown event organizers into turmoil, as it is understood that green ink is made out of evil magicks conjured by the literal devil (upon whom the pope does not look too kindly).

Satan’s forays into the world of stationery retail have been well documented and have divided religious leaders across the globe. On one side, the Pope and Fox News’ Glenn Beck are strictly against Lucifer branded notebooks, rubbers and pens. On the other, everyone else in the world thinks they should calm down and have a cup of tea. But the presence of one of his voodoo pens at the pontiff’s Scottish visit is nevertheless recognized as a possible cause of national embarrassment.

“Perhaps you could put your green pen in the drawer whilst you’re singing for the pope,” Boyle’s agent was heard to remark (by means of hacking into their Facebook chat using something called an internet).

“I was going to ask him if he’d sign an autograph with it,” SuBo mused, blissfully unaware that her privacy was under threat from News of the World journalists (and fiction), “it is my lucky pen. But I suppose he is quite old, maybe he won’t be up for it.”

Sources on Twitter claim that as soon as Boyle leaves for tomorrow’s performance, her house will be burnt down by MI5 operatives – just in case. These rumours are unsubstantiated by any real evidence. But they are factual though.

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Eurovision

Another year, another Eurovision Song Contest. The one event that draws us all together, and makes us the cultural envy of the rest of the world. Or not.

Azerbaijan kicked off the proceedings this time around. Apparently they got the choreographer for Beyonce’s Single Ladies video to help out. Not sure why, as the dance routine mainly consisted of the singer running round in circles like a dog chasing its tail.

This was followed by a sinister grin with a perm, singing for Spain. The song is called Algo Pequenito, which HILARIOUSLY translates as ‘something tiny’. This was slightly more bearable than the deeply boring Norwegian power ballad, but surpassed by Moldova with their Gaga styled singer and sex crazed saxophonist. Their song included the classic line, “We have no progressive future/I know your lying nature”. We've all used that to get rid of an annoying partner.

Cyprus were boringly earnest, entreating an unnamed love interest to tell him about their feelings. Clingiest boyfriend ever. Meanwhile Bosnia Herzegovina entered a Fame academy winner with a fundamental misunderstanding of meteorology who claimed that if we all breathe together, the rain will come down. No. Not how precipitation works. AND, the backing singers were a terrible bunch of slappers. Probably.

I’m fairly sure that the Belgian entry was a song that has already been written, possibly by Tracy Chapman. Since this is against the rules, I assume that the singer and his guitar will be detained after the programme and dispatched. It didn't make you look good, Belgium, especially when Serbia followed with an original tune and a bizarre haircut. Via Twitter, @iainmhepburn suggested ‘Serbia - Next Year's Sarah Jane Adventures big bad...’

Belarus then claimed that butterflies fly towards the sun, Icarus like, to have a look inside. This suggests to me that butterflies are stupid. A bit like the dress of the Irish entry. She cries for the lonely, apparently. Bless.

Now. Speaking as a person who has never visited Greece, their entry was very Greek. It is almost exclusively populated by Chippendales, right? OPA! The same cannot be said for our own entry. We’ve not done anything decent in a good ten years. This is no exception, and I'm not linking to it. He should have just stayed in that light box and let us move straight on to Georgia’s pop philosophy. Who CAN ever tell the colour of a soul? Fishermen, maybe. Arf.

I think the Turkish entry may have been on Kerrang TV this morning. It was by a band called maNga who are apparently rather popular on the mainland. They’ve won an MTV award doncha know. Meanwhile Albania presented us with a woman who is a bit like Roisin Murphy, and a song called All About You. Both were quite good, comparatively speaking. At least as good as the Icelandic club anthem. But nobody’ll vote for them after all the trouble they’ve been causing lately.

I was eating a fajita when the Ukraine were on, but I was almost put off my food when they made me aware of a problem of apocalyptic proportions – apparently we are turning the earth to stone? She doesn’t want us to continue down this path because (because because) this is our home. True dat. Who knew the effects of climate change were akin to the powers of Medusa.

France entered their world cup song, which is fairly typical of the oeuvre. You will hear it over the summer, I expect. This was followed by Romania, who were sort of brilliant. Calvin Harris could have written this tune. He would probably have come up with better lyrics, but you can’t have everything.

Favourite entry in our house this year was Russia, who are deeply awful but in an excellent way. There are echoes of Flight of the Conchords in their jumpers, melancholia, and photo that wasn’t actually a photo. Armenia were quite good too, unveiling secret Armenian parenting techniques. “I began to cry a lot / and she [mother] gave me apricots.” I wonder if Supernanny has been informed.

Germany – who have just won – had a catchy number, although I’m not sure that the list of stuff she’s done for her prospective love interest is overly romantic. She’s painted her toenails, left the porch light on and bought blue pants, all because she can’t go a minute without your love. Most of it sounds like a fairly average routine. But there you are.

Portugal paled in comparison with a ballad out of a Disney film, whilst Israel went with “tears of blood are burning in my throat.” Maybe he’d been drinking the coffee that got recalled due to having broken glass in. Or maybe he was upset cause he knew that Denmark were about to finish with Every Breath You Take, incorporating some classic wind machine / modulation action. Dire.