An utter twit

I’ve had a Twitter account for a year or so, and I can unequivocally say it’s never once crossed my mind to use it for anything but writing headline-length bites of marginally interesting information about my life.

Sadly this appears to the apex of Tweeting.

For today, thanks to the disgraceful tweeting habits of former U.S. Rep. Anthony Weiner — the worst of them, apparently were photographic rather than verbal in nature — we now can say that completely useless information is spectacularly transmitted in this way. And it has set me to ruminating on the appropriateness of the name itself: Twitter. I therefore propose that those who habitually misuse Twitter be universally referred to as Twits.

I'm a bird. I tweet.

Now, I’m a  blogger. I use some of the latest technology to communicate. Hey, I’m doing it right now, and it’s no great revelation.

But the Twitter love, I admit, does escape me — even though I was initially happy it had a bird theme. Usually if something has a bird theme, I’m  all over it. Sports teams like the Cardinals? I’m a fan.

The actual mechanics of tweeting remind me of writing headlines. When I was a newspaper reporter I had an irrational love of headline-writing. Most reporters hated it. Me, I liked the economy of words it forced upon a writer. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being a poet, though believe me, very few of the headlines I ever wrote were particularly poetic.

All right, none of them were.

I also enjoy writing titles for the blog posts I write; unlike headlines, which are written after an article’s done, I write my blog titles first, in hopes that it’ll give the post a tone. Generally I’m going for a low tone — possibly a B-flat. (Insert rimshot.) Not much of an aspiration I’ll admit. But juvenile humor has got to be someone’s specialty, right?

Today I discovered, via Wikipedia, that San Antonio-based market-research firm Pear Analytics analyzed 2,000 tweets (originating from the US and in English) over a two-week period in August 2009 and separated them into six categories. What was the top tweet category?

Pointless babble. A full 40 percent. Pointless.

New York Times photo

Yes, Twitter today seems the proper medium for millennial communicators, who want instant delivery of pointless information. Damn the reflection, full speed ahead.

It’s undoubtedly the medium of choice for celebrities, who can instantly communicate their inanities to their followers. It’s also useful for bloggers, she said, calling up the Twitter website, who wish to alert their readers to new posts. (Like how I can so effortlessly lump myself into celebrity category?)

I do have  testify to its effectiveness in promotion and marketing work. If you want to get the word out about something your followers are presumably interested in, it’s a quick to say, “hey, look at this.” The information can be seen, digested and squirreled away for later use. Or ignored.

As a writer, I’m dismayed by the prevalence of tweeting; as a reader, I’m grateful that my array of reading choices are longer than twit-length. Out there in the blogosphere, there are insightful, thoughtful posts on a stunning array of absorbing topics. Like shoes. Or punctuation. (Someone needs to tackle these important topics, you know.)

But if current events are any indication, twit-length is the dominant force out here in Internetland.

Sigh. I think I’ll go outside and do some bird-watching until the whole phenomenon passes by.

Be sure and watch for my tweets about it.

The tyranny of punctuation

It seems like it’s the smallest things that lay people low. An insignificant droplet of blood causes the biggest man to collapse into a dead faint at a paper cut.

The tiny word “no” sends a kindergartner into the stratosphere, howling about the injustice of being denied a cookie five minutes before supper is laid upon the table.

A simple three-pointer, if made by the other team at the buzzer, can slay a full one-half of the population of a state.

And so it is with punctuation, particularly the apostrophe.

Apostrophe abuse is rampant in this nation, and I used to feel sorry for the poor little thing. I thought of starting a non-profit to combat its prevalence.  The Apostrophe Abuse Association, I’d call it, and hand out fliers decrying this new menace sweeping the land.

For everywhere I go, I find cases of egregious apostrophe abuse. But as much as I feel sorry for it, I’m beginning to think that it’s the apostrophe itself — and its cousin, the quotation mark — that’s running roughshod over the population and whose tyranny we should fight.

The thing is, the rules are so horribly confusing and completely impervious to memorization that people are scared to frickin’ death of punctuation. Take the sentence in the paragraph above. There are at least a couple punctuation situations that might strike terror in the heart of the causal writer, were they to undertake the superhuman job of writing clearly and simply.

Now, take example from above: “I’m beginning to think it’s the apostrophe itself — and its cousin, the quotation mark — that’s running roughshod over the population.”

Look at that. Two separate instances of a word that may look similar but one has the dreaded apostrophe and the other doesn’t. A real horror show, no?

With that little “now you see me, now you don’t,” the apostrophe terrorizes the land.

Let us now consider the quotation mark. People are paralyzed by them. They have no idea where they go, so they just sprinkle them around indiscriminately, hoping one or two will land in the proper place.

The maker of this sign, however, has risen to new highs of punctuation fear. He’s afraid to use anything except quotation marks. So of course they are used wrong.

This is on the coffee machine where I work. It gives me a little chuckle every time I wander into the kitchen. Clearly, when making out the sign, our man identified that there could be a problem with the word two. (Or “2” as it’s rendered here.)

“What would happen if people thought the cups held two cups of liquid?” he wondered, panic rising. “They’ll be furious when they see the tiny little cups holding 2.62 ounces of liquid and demand their two cups’ worth!”

Then, the light-bulb moment.

“Why, I’ll use quotation marks!” he says, inspiration mixing with wonderment in his voice.

“Then … then they’ll know that there are, in fact, two cup sizes! Not one cup size that holds two cups! They’ll know! I just know they will!”

See, if you wish for something hard enough, it’s bound to come true.

Actually, the correct sentence would read merely “Two cup sizes.” If you were actually offering a coffee cup that held two cups, then you’d write “two-cup portions” or something similar. But like our guy, most people are held hostage by the tyranny of punctuation and, afraid to use the proper one (or none, in this case), they grab for the curlicue, decorative quotation mark to dress up the whole shebang.

Of another instance of the red-hot dictatorial proclivities of the quotation mark, sadly I have no photographic evidence. It was a restaurant with a name something like Krabby O’Mondays (an establishment you’ll recognize if, like me, you’ve seen every episode of Spongebob Squarepants eleventy-million times).

But instead of an apostrophe in O’Mondays, this sign, emblazoned upon the strip mall in four-foot-high letters, read Krabby OMondays. I swear, to quote Dave Barry, I am not making this up. When I went back, the sign was down at the business closed. Behold the power of the evil quotation mark.

I’m not fussing at people who have trouble with this, honestly I’m not. I’m just wagging my finger. I’ve got most of the rules literally at my fingertips since I spend a lot of my time writing (they do pay me for it, after all). So, it’s in my interest to know the correct way to convey my meaning so that at least a few people will get the gist of what I’m saying.

Rather, I’m encouraging you to free yourself from the shackles of periods, exclamation points, apostrophes and the big meanie quotation mark. Go ahead, be bold! Use a hyphen between two words when the two words, together, form a single-meaning adjective (like that). Bug-eyed girl. Bitter-tasting coffee. Smug-faced blogger.

And write the word its without fear. You can do it! I have every confidence in you. Its means possessive. But — and this is what makes everyone cower in fear and go crazy — there’s no apostrophe, like in normal possessives. Ellen’s blog. Nobody’s business.

And the reason? Why it’s simple! To distinguish it from the word it’s, which is a contraction. Like don’t. Don’t fear the reaper! It’s means it is. It’s true, I swear. It’s a fact.

So workers, go forth and punctuate. Throw off the shackles of the tyranny of punctuation! You have nothing to lose but your mind.