I have a mild addiction to unanswerable questions.
One that’s been doing laps around my brain for years now is, ‘Can you understand that which you cannot name?’
A certain awfully alluring fellow once tossed off a hilarious answer that almost annihilated my years of wanky metaphysical musings. But only almost, alas; it continues to niggle me.
It’s difficult to describe things we have not fully grasped; we are often reluctant to reveal what we don’t yet understand about ourselves. Words are only tags but they allow us to shape and define; they are beacons and help us to concretize the intangible, the ephemeral.
Now this may appear to be a non-sequitur to the untrained eye, but something I’ve been trying to comprehend is this Twitter thing. I’m intrigued by the gamut of reactions they provoke in me.
I’m trying to figure out what is it that I like, revile, what makes them so addictive and, too often, just plain boring.
I am astonished by the level of intimacy some people seek to create; message in a bottle, etc. I am astonished by the details they reveal about themselves and their daily drudge. Perhaps searching for same-thinking hearts instead of howling alone in their room. I don’t know. I don’t know what motivates these revelations.
I admit readily that I’m fairly picky about what I read, and click away quickly when there’s no voice, no style, no point…
I find myself cringing at a large percentage of twitter I see, much as I cringe when my colleague, who is an otherwise adorable person, offers me details on this morning’s enema (‘… and so, gosh, yeah, it really takes it out of me.’ Oh, please stop, please! I feel a bad pun coming on), although they’re by no means offensive the way bad TV is; millions are not wasted to produce them.
And so I rebuke that stance, telling myself that, ultimately, everything warrants expression, adds a little juice to the collective cocktail, and that we’re all free to filter as we please.
As for what I’ve been able to glean about this ‘A-list’ business, it just rings so much like the high school cool kids and only reminds me, yet again, that we are apparently incapable of living without hierarchies. Too bad.
And then there’s the payoff, the unexpectedly enjoyable contact made with perfect strangers, voices that meet and minds intertwine. The marvelous plethora of compelling images and ideas being offered up by millions of individuals sitting, just like you, behind their computer screen. And, just like you, saying ‘ooh, nifty’ when they see that someone in Kuala Lumpur logs on every day for a peek.
It’s a technology that has been embraced with breathtaking speed and one of the few spots where multinationals, though now increasingly invasive, were at the tail end of the parade where they belong. That alone is charming as hell. It attests to our solitude, our need to be heard (there’s an endearing phenomenon of self-deprecation), our need for community and commiseration, to feed and be fed, meat and poison, all as lovely and messy and contradictory as the human heart.
Oh, you all should know, today is my birthday!
Thrifted ensemble details:
Anne Klein heels
Daisy Fuentes pleated skirt
H&M polka dots shirt
Talbots skinny belt
Guess bangles – Burlington
Linking up to Kileen’s Color Brigade.