Character Of The Day: @robinturner
“I know I’m addicted to Twitter. My partner takes the trouble to remind me all the time. Refresh refresh refresh, tweet tweet tweet. Who’s said something funny. Who do we all think is a cunt. How long can I keep this going before I have to get on with something important – like paid work.
It’s the cameraderie I find utterly intoxicating; a rare bit of (sort of) direct contact in an age where emails and text messages have made the very act of communication so stilted, so troubled. With Twitter, TV shows that used to pass idly by are enhanced – retooled and subjected to a ticker tape feed of brilliantly carousing scorn. It’s as if you’ve brought the pub back to the comfort of your sofa; a rolling director’s commentary from a bunch of randoms all firing in the same direction. Newsnight with a laughter track? Sold. A BBC4 music night reduced to a series of petty, bigoted bon mots? I’m in.
Occasionally, I receive a horrible jolt of morbid recognition and am forced to stare directly at my addiction. Its like looking straight at the raw data of the Matrix. This usually happens as I find myself checking updates whilst going for a pee in the deep black of night. Right there, I see everything as it is, the scales having fallen from my eyes to somewhere just around the base of the toilet bowl. Then, I’m not witty or informed – I’m simply an idiot trying to fill thirty seconds of urination with something – anything. Its around that point – just when the cat senses I’m not sleepwalking and starts bawling for food – that I sigh at my powerlessness, my idiocy. Everybody knows that no fucker is posting anything interesting at 5am. What the hell am I doing?
Shuffling back to bed, I manage to right wrongs, to find peace and drift back off. Yeah, I tell myself. My own stupid fault for not having funnier friends in California. Only another few hours before the UK comes online. Snore snore snore, refresh refresh refresh until the dawn chorus wakes me. Tweet tweet tweet.”