To tweet or not to tweet….??
That is indeed the question.
Twitter it seems is the new conversation. It’s the new blog. It’s the new new. And it concerns me.
All the world is talking of twitter and such like of late. No one is safe. It seems there were very few actual words spoken at the Blog Awards in Cork last weekend. From take-off to landing. Every occurance was twittered about. Byte size snatches of the moment. The sky above the Cork Airport Hotel must have looked like one big twitter cloud.
Twitter is the bootleg demo to the fully polished and mastered blog. It’s the 99 cent iTunes-bought compressed mp3 to the gatefold, first-edition vinyl long player bought in the record store from the man who knows. Quality decreases as interest grows.
Of course the communication and interaction that twitter promotes is all welcome. And I may well be accused of a flat-earth-type outlook. Perhaps.
And who knows I may even start to twitter down the line. But my worry is that blogs, like record stores, will cease to be at the hands of this trendy twitter gremlin. Stephen Fry and Jonathan Ross have added the water and now Mogwai is mutating, spreading, taking over, changing the face of what we say and how we say it.
I fear that bloggers (of all standards and determinations) will devote energy and instant thoughtspace to the heady rush of a tweet and the replies that follow. Blogs and the consistency of posting must suffer at the hands of such instant gratification. And that concerns me.
So say it ain’t so twitterers? Tell me I’m wrong. Say it ain’t so.
Have we jumped the shark? Will the tide go out? Will I be left behind?
So many questions I know. But maybe with the right kind of eyes, we’ll see the high-water mark – the place where the wave will break and maybe, just maybe, roll back.
NaRocRockin Beats…
Soundcheck last night. I did something I never thought I’d ever do. Ever. I played a Pet Shop Boys track. And I enjoyed it.
It went very well indeed. Yes it was daunting initially, I had probably built it up too much. But once I got into Spy I just thought fuck it. It wasn’t packed, there was no one expecting great things and there were plenty of good heads there. People were having a drink or two and noddding away to the msuic. Not much dancing but that’s just fine.
When I arrived Bluebirds Are So Natural were ripping it up and playing a blinder. I introduced myself. Very nice folk altogether.
I downed a quick Carlsberg. Then it was my turn. Lady Gaga got the ball rolling.
The lovely Milan Adenauer came over to say hello. She doesn’t look a jot like her avatar.
Rick rocked in looking pimpishly cool. The best cane I ever did see. Rapture Ponies introduced herself with a big hug. Anthony McG rolled by in 3-D glasses. And sure why not?!
My planned setlist went out the window and I played whatever took the mood from thereon. And it was over in a flash. Really glad I did it tho. Felt like my Blogmitzvah if you will. My stepping out from behind the veil of anonymity. And it didn’t hurt one bit.
Afterwards I chatted to some more fine folk. Anthony, Pedro, Nialler, Aoife to name but a few. It was great to meet you all.
The music was eclectic and always wonderfully unpredictable.
Oh and Jim would it have killed you to play a bit of Aslan?!?
All in all, a cracking night was had. Hats off to Una and Sarah for putting it all together and running such a tight ship. Gold stars all round.
And despite all my threats, I never got around to playing Guns N Roses. Next time I swear!
It’s not all doom n gloom…
At first I thought it was a wind-up. Then I dismissed it completely. But behind it all my ego couldn’t resist so I went through with it. And I’m glad I did.
It all began when I wrote a post recently detailing my sprawling thoughts on all things recessionary. Thereafter a kind, polite lady contacted me alluding to my “great work”.
That’s why I thought it was a wind-up. It went on… “we are carrying out a new series of interviews with notable passionate bloggers, writers, and webmasters. In that regard, we would like to interview you”. And that’s when my ego started to prick up. So I replied.
And so it goes. I have now been interviewed by the Pakistani Spectator.
The wondrous interview is available here. It’s all about blogging and the wider world. Do have a gander.
The Pakistani Spectator is a web collective of bloggers and journalists who are trying to contribute their “humble share in the webosphere”. Their “aim is to foster peace, progress and harmony with passion”.
And I’m all for that.
At least the fat kid got to go in goal!
The longlist for the Irish Blog Awards was announced today. And laydees and genullmen The Narocroc Weblog is not there. Shock. Horror. Divil a nomination. And I had the speech written and all. I was gonna go all Kate Winslett on your asses.
Rick who?
If truth be told I’m not surprised. This blog is only finding it’s feet and I’m only beginning to find a voice. I haven’t been the most consistent or prolific blogger and even at that I don’t readily fit into any of the categories. In fact I wouldn’t have voted for it and it’s mine.
Yet I still felt a pang of disappointment seeing every other bloody blog up there and mine not. Like being the fat kid who didn’t get picked for football. At least he got to go in goal the little porker!
Still, good to see a lot of worthy blogs/bloggers getting the nod. And anyway isn’t it all about the taking part at the end of the day?!?
A little milestone indeed…
Homepages, a unique collection of stories and photographs, the first of its kind in Ireland, has hit the virtual shelf this very day.
All proceeds from the sale of the book, compiled on an entirely voluntary basis, go directly to Focus Ireland, a very worthy cause who provide services and support for people who are homeless across Ireland. I contributed a photograph I took a while back to the collection and am very proud to have done so. I really hope it sells a shitload of copies.
Catherine Brodigan is the curator of the project. So hats off to Catherine for having the imagination, the initiative and the will to make it all work.
Catherine describes Homepages as “a unique collection of stories and photographs, the first of its kind in Ireland”. The contributors are a motley crew of Ireland’s best bloggers who “hold forth on the theme of ‘home’, covering everything from pets and expat life to parenting and the Kellogg’s Variety Pack. By turns hilarious, heartbreaking and thought-provoking, it promises a captivating read and showcases some of Ireland’s best undiscovered writing talent”. The list of grade-A contributors is available here. I personally can’t wait to get my mitts on a copy.
Oh and it’d make a most excellent Christmas present for those you hold dear! It’s available online at Lulu on a print on demand basis for a mere €14. To buy your very own copy or one for a loved one go here.
Catherine will be virtually launching the book with a couple of drinks from 7pm this evening at Le Cirk on Dame Street – all are welcome to come along. She’ll be the redhead in the corner with the double espresso!
Also at Le Cirk this evening some fine folk will be live blogging to cover the final of The Apprentice. Excellent stuff. What a combination!
Bless me Father….
… for I have sinned. It’s been 6 days since my last post, and 12 since my last real one. And time has not been my friend Father. All go go go it seems of late. And you see, I’ve been the victim of a broken laptop Father. It appears she didn’t like various liquids being spilled all over her. First tea then water. And no amount of cajoling or rehab could save her. So that didn’t help the posting situation.
Before that it was all credit crunch this and recession that. And that was just fine with me. Then that lad from Moneygall disturbed everything father. Suddenly it was all “historic” this, “seismic” that. The interweb was heaving with hyperbole and cliché. It felt only right to take a break after all that. Readjust. Even over at the mighty Pound there has been a slowdown in posts. Maybe we’re all just taking stock?
Perhaps like Michael Stone we should all just “Make Art Not War”? Are you listening Buffalo Cane?!? And K8 the Ir8? Put the fucking lotion in the basket! Or Cuthbert Cannon will kick all our asses.
