So I went and joined Twitter for real this time (over to the right, third section down). I'm not usually an impulsive person, but sometimes I study and weigh an issue for a stupidly long time, come a decision and then proceed to completely do a 180 when someone makes even a remotely good argument against what I'd decided.
In this case, the decision had been "I'll use Twitter under a mysterious handle and refuse to say anything informative. By keeping it cryptic, I'll fly in the face of the very shorthand that is Twitter culture! Using guerrilla poetry tactics, I'll knock the system on its ear!" What happened, what always happens when I get a wild hair to rage against the machine, is simply that people didn't notice and got confused. The truth is, I'm not really an against-the-machine rager. More like a make-a-reasonable-change-from-inside-the-machine- while-providing-team-building-spirit-and-good-humor. Also in this case, the agent provocateur was my dad. As is his way, he managed to inadvertently point up, once again, a simple truth: Some things just aren't important enough to use for any purpose other than what they're meant for. Like using a screwdriver as a swizzle stick. Sometimes a cigar is just a euphemism for a long thing that you put in your mouth and light on fire. Life is short and often boring. Pick your battles. He didn't say all this, I'm still working out some guerrilla poetry.
So yeah, Twitter. Getting to know you... just don't try anything funny. I've got whole machine in here just waiting for a reason to get all raged against. I mean it this time!