I am so sick and tired of hearing about Twitter on the news, or having to explain it to my family, or having to think about it in any capacity other than its use at all, really. Twitter has become MySpace’s younger, genius cousin: bratty, loud, unstoppable, and often immensely gifted. The gift may or may not be at playing the piano while making a fart joke.
Twitter is a godsend to writers, especially writers of comedy. It forces us to work within constraints, and with “ranking” tools like the gold star and Favrd, we’re able to test our material on a pretty forgiving audience. It garners attention, mainlines approval, and has helped to develop friendships. There are text alert options, so you can basically have a nonstop comedy hour in your pants. Not only have Simon and I been fortunate enough to meet some pretty awesome and attractive individuals in real life thanks to this social network, we’ve also gotten jobs out of it. When we were stranded for fifteen hours in a U-Haul, we were able to ask our friends on Twitter what the hell was going on up ahead on the road…and we got a nearly immediate response. (The answer: a massive snowstorm.)
It may seem a little foolish or forced to say that one can be impressed by something as minute as a 140 character microblog post, but I’m easy to bowl over, I guess. Among some of the individuals who have made my cyber-jaw drop atop my QWERTY keys is Avery Edison, a 20 year old college student from Southampton, UK. Perhaps dedicating a post to another blogger, and microblogger, seems redundant, silly, or meta. Sue me. The woman is hilarious, and as a student of comedy writing — much as I was back in the late ’90s in New York — I feel that she deserves a spotlight all her own, namely because she can make you laugh harder than I can. I’m glad Twitter introduced me to her.
That said, fuck Rick Sanchez.