I don’t need Twitter. Like, really, I don’t. I have three Facebook pages, this and two other blogs and the ability to interact with other human beings in the real world, so I’m pretty much set when it comes to communicating with people. The obvious question is then, ‘why did you get a Twitter account?’ and, in all honestly, it’s largely for the sake of completion. In the same way that I’ve replayed Mass Effect 2 to get a perfect ending, despite knowing all the extra features of said ending because or relentless googling of the outcomes of every death and decision having first beaten the game, I kinda want to be involved with a variety of social media things, purely for its own sake.
There is a slight practical element here, however, that I’m going to be in charge of publicising two UCL societies next year, and so should probably have an appreciation of how multiple social networks work, and a lot of the jobs I’m looking into at the moment are related to social media, so this understanding would come in handy there too.
But the most striking thing about signing up to Twitter, however, is not how superfluous it all is. But just how much of a moron I’ve been on Facebook over the last few years. Think, if I may be pretentious for a minute, of the Roman Empire: a continent-spanning series of armed camps and localised power in which every military settlement followed an identical blueprint, the theory being that soldiers from the Iberian Peninsula could find their way around a Gaulish camp in times of crises with no trouble. Rome itself, however, was a mishmash of temples, self-indulgent statues, random military buildings and gods know what else, the result of a few centuries of natural, unplanned growth, and the random rebuilding after the sack of the Gauls in 390 BCE. I think of my Facebook account as Rome, a collection of liked pages, followed nobodies and flash-in-the pan groups that aren’t an accurate representation of my identity beyond me being the sort of lazy frakker who’s aware of his messy Facebook account but will do nothing to clean it up.
And while Twitter will hardly resemble a Roman camp (I followed John Green because I genuinely care about what he has to say, then followed every other member of the vlogging community despite not having watched half of them in like two years), I am more aware of the need for a consistent online identity as these identities become more important, in both personal and professional relations. I proudly put links to this blog on CVs and job applications, but it’s still fundamentally a mosaic of ideas, bits and pieces of poetry and tag blogs, which is fine when concentrated on this site, but might be a problem if my entire online persona is that of a waste-fill rather than some neat IKEA shelves.
So follow me if you’d like – there’s a widget over to the right – and ignore it if you prefer. Just letting you know that I’ve found a new way to annoy you with my irrelevant opinions over the Internet.