Happy Birthday Twitter - you beautiful freak

Seven years.

At seven you can star-jump, sing, you probably know the basics between right and wrong... You are self-aware, empathetic  you've got a social diary, you're learning, engaging, interacting, deliberating and deciding.

I celebrated Twitter's seventh birthday by lodging a harassment case with Devon and Cornwall Police against my very own digital harasser who dedicated two whole months to obsessing about me on Twitter. Seven is apparently old enough to be a gutless bully, too.

But that mustn't detract from the enormous joy Twitter has, and still does, frequently bring me.

It connected me to the city when I felt completely detached and far-from-home. It connected me to new friends by the seaside.

It's connected me to men and women whom I admire, agree with and disagree with. People who've informed me, enraged me, advised me, or just given me a little boost when I needed it.

I am joined to colleagues, old colleagues, friends, politicians, presidents and strangers alike, every day.

Is there a more random, more versatile, more powerful invention of the 21st century?

What a beautiful freak. Happy Birthday Twitter.

Taking on Twitter. And Nigella

It's easy to get sucked into arguments on Twitter. I do try to avoid them.

Celebrities who've never so much as jostled bottoms past each other on the red carpet have an opinion on each others extra-marital activities, on their clothing, on their partners of choice.
But generally it's left there.

On hearing culinary goddess Nigella Lawson being called a 'tubby old trout', however, I had to draw the line. I did what I know, as an online editor, one must never, ever do - feed the troll.


A few back and forth’ings with a tweeter using a pseudonym and fake avatar I realised what I already knew. It wasn't worth it.

Posting as a fictional 78 year old grouchy man the tweeter was indeed just in existence to stir trouble and bitch at other users.

All my tweets served to do was lather them in more fame than even their retweet by Nigella herself had done (and Nigella said she was taking 'immense pleasure' from his insult).

The torrent of reply to this twitter troll, however, is testament to how far the online community has come.

No longer do we, as visitors to an online public space, turn and blush when someone is getting an unprovoked lashing from someone not even courageous enough to post as himself.
Oh no.

We use 160 characters to shout them down. Power to the people. Twitter troll himself admitted 'Well my dear, you certainly stirred a bees nest up with your RT.' And for that alone, I think I'm grateful I did it.

I wonder how much time someone must have on their hands to be bothered with such a pass-time, but who am I to judge?

I think we all just ended up feeling a bit sorry for the person who took on Nigella on twitter. And lost.

Are we too reliant on Twitter?

There have been people who’ve Twitter travelled - going only where tweets tell you to go.

There have been others who partake in the Twitter diet – posting their every calorific intake in order to shame them into eating less.

But what about the Twitter diagnosis? Gone are the days when you’d struggle the overweight family medical dictionary down from the top shelf (that once correctly diagnosed me with meningitis). Or even the new and immediate NHS direct helpline.

When businessman Patrick Johnson awoke with a partially paralysed face, he tweeted ‘I feel like I've had a stroke. Half of my face doesn't work properly.’

And thank god not just media junkies and bored businessmen use the networking tool, as the response he got back was from Scottish woman Marj who replied ‘If you're truly serious, get to the doc. Bell's palsy facial symptoms mimic a stroke’.

Well thank god for Marj indeed as a few hours later and at the hospital Patrick was diagnosed with and treated for ‘Bells palsy, a condition which, if not treated immediately, can have lasting damage.

I can’t say I’m faultless. Making the hard decision to leave friends family and a good job and move to Cornwall 2 years ago was partially left up to my twitter followers. As was whether to allow myself one or two glasses of mid-week wine a couple of nights back.

But if I woke up with a face that didn’t work I’d like to think the first thing I’d do would be get to the doctors.

Has modern technology removed the responsibility we used to take for ourselves, placing our health, diet and movements into the hands of others?