When flipping indifferently between channels a number of weeks ago, I came across something I found completely asinine. It was the morning that Hillary Clinton was (finally) scheduled to concede the Democratic nomination to Barack Obama.
CNN cameras were stationed outside her residence, waiting to capture her exciting 10-step trek to the waiting vehicle that would whisk her away to the speaking engagement. When I turned back to CNN a half hour later, the cameras were still trained on her driveway.
What on earth were these cameras hoping to capture?
It then hit me (get ready for this startling revelation…drum roll, please): there’s simply too much information out there.
Speaking strictly as a historian, one of the many things that makes figures like Joseph Stalin or Richard Nixon so damn fascinating is the aura of mystery surrounding them. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to know if they wore boxers or briefs. If I knew every little detail about their lives, down to what toothpaste they preferred, somehow they wouldn’t seem as interesting.
Yet we now live in a society where there’s an irrespressible urge to reveal everything. 95 per cent of the cellphone conversations I overhear (I don’t use one myself) invariably revolve around decidedly trivial matters: “I just had some mustard on my hotdog.” “Maybe I’ll buy some coffee tomorrow.”
Earth-shattering stuff.
Enter the world of micro-blogging. Sites like Twitter now allow us to record these “ideas” in writing. In theory, this service has potential. You can “follow” a key influencer in a field of interest and find out what they’re thinking or planning.
In practice (and this is not a criticism of the tool, but of the user), Twitter is a waste of time…much like those aforementioned annoying cellphone conversations. I have a Twitter account and follow reputable names in the PR industry. My experience has been disappointing. Rather than reading a helpful tip or some keen insight, I’m exposed to mudane updates: “just finished my laundry.”
I’m not going to name names, but these people’s personal lives aren’t much more interesting than mine. Twitter is polluted with frivolity. Too bad; it seemed like a good idea.
