August 2012
“This is a true story. It’s about men and football and drinking.”
—Roddy Doyle, Deireadh Seachtaine Craiceáilte
@inky →
twitter.com
Follow me on Twitter if you like.
Play
iambic pentameter
I type some shite when unsure what to write.
The box atop the stairs stopped shaking when
The cat jumped out and landed on my face.
A robot knows the path to happiness,
But—what a shame—it doesn’t comprehend.
Pianos, banjos, English horns, and flutes
All sound the same to busy men in suits.
A snowman with a scarf, a hat, and arms
Won’t go too far without a leg or two.
Good afternoon from Mars, the rover says.
It’s getting kinda lonely over here.
Is a federated Twitter even possible? →
venomousporridge.com
The advantages are numerous and comparable to those of the web itself: no single point of failure, no concentration of power, no risk that the entire network will be sold to Facebook.
But does this work for a service like Twitter? Can the behavior we’ve come to expect from social networks be reproduced in this model?
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“Like a lot of people I like to know how things sort themselves out, and who is in charge of what. This information was urgent to me, and otherwise unavailable without asking an adult, which I hated to do. They were always so suspicious. Why do I want to know how the hospital works? Because I am momentarily interested in hospitals. I hate this town and I hate you. Leave me alone.”
—Paul Ford
“two cops interrogating a survey in a dimly lit room, demanding to know where the free iPad is”
—Imaginary Image Blog
Play
A carrier pigeon unwittingly delivering a note that reads, “Let’s throw this bird a surprise party.”
