In The Guardian, Chris Floyd presents photographs of his favourite Twitter users. Forget Stephen Fry and Ashton Kutcher, though: one or two of them, refreshingly, are those mythical beasts, “ordinary people”, not actors or musicians or even, um, Guardian writers (three of whom are on Floyd’s list). Although now that the temp and the civil servant have achieved this random jolt of mainstream media attention, they will of course cease to be ordinary people, and at same time, cease to inhabit a nice little secret corner of social media; perversely, when they stop being ordinary, they also stop being special. Everybody knows them, and they are ruined. “Ignorance is like a delicate, exotic fruit,” said Lady Bracknell, accidentally inventing quantum theory while she was at it. “Touch it and the bloom is gone.”
6 comments:
So what you're saying is, maybe I'm better off in obscurity?
I've had a Twitter account for a few months, now. I still don't get it. I'm guessing some people sell up and move in. Or should that be, sell out and move in...or sell out and move up?
Raises virtual glass to Lady Bracknell.
It's never anybody I follow. Same as with the bloggers that used to get publicity.
I like Gareth Aveyard, he's very funny & sweet. He's creatively sweary.
I still miss the days when we didn't really know what anyone on the internet looked like though. It was a big free-for-all.
It's lucky my kind can't be recorded on film.
No, Rol – just that when you become famous, you tend to lose the certain something that released you from obscurity in the first place.
Just wait for the next big thing, Martin. Unless it's Google+.
Is this a Wife In The North reference, Geoff?
But at least now we know how much it weighs, Annie.
Is this a vampire reference, Billy?
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