I’d tell you tonight was spent playing bocci ball and video games, but this isn’t Twitter. Burn.
We’re horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We’re the ninjas of the mundane, you might say.
Aaron’s line about Twitter didn’t just get me chuckling, it got me thinking. I’m so very torn between two poles: thinking Twitter, Flickr, del.icio.us, etc. are really cool community driven things I’d love to make part of my everyday web life, and thinking that I don’t care to live my online life so publicly, that not all these things are even so useful or interesting, and that I would much rather have everything in one place, hosted on my own server.
Take Twitter for example. For some reason, I occasionally feel driven to sign up for an account. Thus far, I’ve resisted, mainly because the rational side of me asks why I’d sign up for a service based on replicating one tiny feature of IM clients/Facebook (ie, status.) And if I really wanted to pump that kind of information out there, why not do it here?
Why not? Because that sort of information, in and of itself, does not a post make–at least, not in my opinion. Oh, sure, I may be guilty of it from time to time, but it’s not what I want to make this site about. Not that this site is really about anything.
For example, I could have written a post yesterday like this: “Going running with Lucy.” Or this: “Just back from running with Lucy.” You might say the latter is what I did. But, no, not really. There was more to it than that, even if in a small package.
There’s a danger, perhaps, of the web making it too easy to put information out there, information that either should not be available for everybody to see or need not be available for everybody to see. The latter sort includes things that are just a little too mundane. So you made coffee today, as usual. That’s great. Does it need to be posted for the whole world to see? (Not that the whole world would read it.) If we’re the ninjas of the mundane, the web–especially web 2.0–is a powerful new weapon in our arsenal.
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