One of the things I realized during the 24 hours of darkness this weekend was that microblogging (the emission of pithy 140 characters-or-less “status updates” through sites like Twitter, Jaiku and Faceboook), while addictive, is, for me, the digital equivalent of empty calories. It took 24 hours out of the loop to realize that while microblogging has the appearance of substance, it shares more in common with a nervous tick than with writing a novel.
With Facebook I’ve taken the additional step of deleting my account completely (you can do it right here if you want to join me); if following the lifestream of my familiars was distracting, following the lifestream of that guy who sat across from me in grade 12 biology was simply pointless.
Having streamed the minutiae for almost 5 years in one form or another, this will take some getting used to, as the reflex to ping won’t just disappear overnight. So if you see my hands trembling with frustrated glee over the next while, you’ll know why.