The Twitter Twat

If I had to guess, I’d predict…

Your friends are supportive of you as long as your success is equal to- or lesser than- their own.

This is not a social law, more of a social observation. A great way to judge if your friends fall into this category is to monitor their twitter feeds- as well as your own.

It took me awhile to figure out the point of Twitter. I didn’t understand what to write about. I was being criticized for not Tweeting right, or not often enough, etc. So I studied the feeds over time and realized everyone has a different agenda with Twitter. Eventually I was able to identify the various types of Tweets that populate this short-form universe…

  • The Deep Tweet – This usually involves tragic observations about life, obscure micro “Thank you” letters to Mother Nature for being so beautiful, or retweets from the Dalai Lama (I’m guilty of this category).
  • The Clever for Sake of Clever Tweet – It seems every comedian- or anyone who fancies herself somewhat humorous- uses Twitter as a forum for trying out one-liners (again, guilty).
  • The Random Rant Tweet – When your venting about something – or most likely, someone– very specific yet veiling the message in an innocent generality about life. (more than likely the anonymous subject is a follower and will see the message and, in effect, the Random Rant Tweeters point of view… again, guilty as charged).
  • The Shameless Self-Promotion Tweet – These days there’s nothing wrong with letting the world know you’re going to be appearing on TV tomorrow, that you’re having a baby, or that your company’s Pink Taco Truck is gonna be on Wilshire Blvd at 8PM tonight! Its actually considered a necessity for most businesses who realize the power of free advertising.
  • The Benevolent Selfless Promotion Tweet – There’s certainly nothing wrong with letting the world know your actor friend is gonna be on TV tonight, your cousin is having a baby, or your favorite Pink Taco Truck is going to be on Wilshire Blvd…
  • The Any and Every Moment of My Life Tweet – These are the tweets that clog up our feeds, sometimes Tourette’s-style with several in a row, about the turkey sandwich they ate for lunch, their cat that always “just jumped on my crotch” or simply tweets that express their feelings… =(…  (you most likely “don’t follow these people any more”).

and then there’s…

  • The Twitter Twat – This is the person who makes snarky comments about your tweets, spoils the ending to newly released movies, or otherwise takes selfish promotion to an insensitive, boasting level… making the readers cringe and possibly, God forbid, UNFOLLOW said Twitter Twat.  (If you think this blog post is a personal affront against you, specifically… well, you’re probably right.)

The problem is everyone is their own incomparable judge of whether another person is being a Twitter Twat or not. I’ve noticed some of my friends complaining of jealous followers accusing them of “boasting” with their tweet-posts. In some cases I can agree with the offended parties; but in other cases I believe its purely a case of frustration with the viewers own lack of life success.

Despite the many hurdles in my own life, I’ve slowly grown comfortable with the pacing of my career and family development, and I am genuinely happy for any of my friends’ success. I don’t find other people’s tweets offensive. And while I share with the world my moments of happiness and success my intentions are never to make anyone feel inferior; nor should they because there are many, many more successful people than I out there whose tweets can be viewed as “boastful.”

My unsolicited suggestion is this…

Be whatever kind of tweeter you want to be. Someone is going to tell you you’re doing it wrong. Others are going to admire you for using Twitter “the way its supposed to be used.”  As long as you’re not intentionally being an insensitive Twitter Twat I say the world’s your oyster. So let the world see your pearl… (or is that clams…?)


UNFOLLOW @Jesse_Warren

~ JW

10VE – The Emotional Data Exchange

Is it possible that some day we could become so technologically advanced that our most treasured emotional moments could be artificially created using digital data…?

Love- in the form of 1s and 0s.

One of my fondest memories is the unsurprisingly cliched moment of my wedding day. Watching Autumn, my beautiful wife-to-be, walk down the aisle predictably drenched me in a puddle of salty eye fluids. In all sincerity, nothing beats the face to face interaction we experienced as we stared into our equally tear-streaked eyes.

To quote the prophetic warnings of a digital future:

“The more technologically advanced we are the less emotionally connected we become.”

-Some Guy

My wedding day is a testament to this paraphrased quote’s anonymous author whom clearly values the in-the-moment aroma of two people standing in the same living space.

…Though there was that one time in my senior year of high school when, alone in my kitchen, I received a phone call from my mom whom had opened an acceptance letter from UCLA for me earlier that day.

Boy was I ecstatic, defying the odds calculated by my dick-of-a-boss from Ruby’s Diner, an assistant manager whom insisted I wasn’t smart enough to surpass his own education level.

Yup-yup! That sweet justice was a moment unsurpassed. Despite being alone in my kitchen with a piece of analog plastic up to my ear I assure you the gratifying experience was not cheapened even as it was received via the nefarious beast that we call “technology.”
This past year I awaited the news with my partner-in-crime, Mark Gantt, to hear if we got nominated for our respective Streamy Awards- him as an actor, myself as director, collectively as creators- for The Bannen Way, a project three grueling years in the making. We sat in anticipation, desperate for public recognition for our noble efforts, ass halfway on the edge of my swivel chair, chin jutting forward, eyes strained open to catch every moment, and fingers and toes, crossed and cramped, as we were about to hear the results in front of my macbook pro while Shira Lazar read off the nominees… Mark’s came first…

he was indeed nominated…! relief, then…

…minutes later…

I finally hear that I’m nominated as well…! relief once again, and we both let out audible sighs of awkward enthusiasm…

Who’s to say the experience was any less emotionally valid for not having heard the news in the presence of the, albeit lovely, Shirah Lazar…?

Then again the devil’s lawyer could argue that I was, after all, in the presence of another human being which, in effect, elevated the experience…

Who knows what my unfiltered reaction would have been had I heard the news in solitary comfort? Since I recorded the event with my laptop’s digital camera I can relive how I felt in that early moment of my career for years to come.

At its essence, this moment is all encoded, captured forever, in the form of 1s and 0s, which translates to a 100% legitimate, grade-A emotional memory.
Even as I write this I just received a text message from my pregnant wife, Autumn, who tells me she landed safely in New Orleans for the Miley Cyrus movie she’s shooting and that she felt our baby kick in her belly- twice!

Thank the benevolent Lord of Techy Stuff for allowing me to stay connected to my loved ones even without being able to see the whites of their eyes. And I defy anyone to tell me that receiving emotional data via text message is not a “valid” experience.
Several haunting years ago when I thought I lost all my digital data on my computer  to a Genius Bar mishap, I had a bonafide public meltdown; I talked to managers, I pounded my fist on counters, and I paced angrily up and down the commercial throughways of The Grove…

I thought this “genius” (so deemed in Bill Gates’ humble opinion) had destroyed years of treasured moments. I imagined the forgotten photos and videos that I had to accept living without after violently stumbling through the first four stages of loss.

But what was I complaining about? These were just 1s and 0s that I was clinging to ever-so-desperately. They’re not real moments of me making goofy faces with my wife on my 30th birthday- or standing in the rain in front of the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam… they’re just digitized phonies; imposters of reality. What’s the big deal? Right…?

I fantasize about a futuristic Utopia where human brains can be implanted with computer chips- pure data in the form of 1s and 0s- that re-write over horrific scars from the past; a benevolent form of Inception that will be performed on individuals who can’t otherwise forget about being raped as a child or who simply suffer from memory loss. Who’s side is Memory on anyway, fragmented as they are- forcing you to reconsider whether or not your precious moments ever actually happened to you in the first place?!

Who’s to say if, when I was eight, my dad actually played bridge in the kitchen with a group of his African American buddies, each of them secretly cheating, talking about “…going down to the baseball DIAMOND…” or if that was just my favorite episode of the Cosby Show? I can’t accurately remember at this point!

Of course I’m just overcomplicating a simple observation about how staring at screens takes us away from human interaction. And of course this diatribe is just science fiction masturbation; we obviously can’t implement this digital fantasy because our world would be filled with constructed lies. And even if this theoretical scenario was carried out by the most ethical Platonic Guardians of our society we’d still be supporting the idea of lying to ourselves- and others… and after all… America wasn’t built on lies.

(sorry for the cheap-shot, America. If there’s a hanging curve-ball you gotta hit it)

~ JW

[sent to you by repeatedly tapping plastic square letters on a blue-toothed keyboard that feeds into a word processor and is instantly sent via magical airwaves in the form of 1s and 0s… WARNING: do not fool yourself into believing there is any authentic pleasure to be gained from reading words off of a screen]