I’m being increasingly drawn into the Twitter world. I’ve encouraged my children to open Twitter accounts for the simple reason that the 140-symbol limit forces economy of words. If you’re composing a tweet, you’re forced to think, “Okay, what’s really relevant here? How can I push the gist of this thought succinctly?” After many years of listening to rambling stories from my children and from self-indulgent adults who never heeded the old lesson that brevity is the soul of wit, I find Twitter a unique form of stylistic grace.
In case you’re wondering why I don’t Twitter, wonder no more: I do. But it’s for professional reasons. You can find my professional tweets at my law firm’s blawg
Herewith, a few of my favorite tweets over the weekend.
First, Philosophy Bites featured a string of tweets about Diogenes. I only re-produce the G-rated ones here:
Alexander the Gr8: ‘If I wasn’t Alexander, I’d like to be Diogenes’ Diogenes: ‘If I wasn’t Diogenes, I’d also like to be Diogenes’
[H]e spat in the face of a rich man who told him not to spit on his floor
Diogenes’ spitting story reminds me of the one about GEM Anscombe removing her slacks when told that ladies couldnt wear trousers in the bar
Diogenes walked into a theatre against the flow of a crowd leaving. ‘Why?’ someone asked. His response ‘This is what I’ll always try to do.’
Diogenes was asked which wine he most liked to drink – his response ‘someone else’s’
Diogenes burst into Plato’s lecture on man ‘the featherless biped’ holding a plucked chicken shouting ‘Look! A Man!’
Next, a few from “Sports [Things] No One Says”
I have no idea when Michael Jordan’s birthday is. How old do you think he is?
When is the next NASCAR event?
Who wants to join my Fantasy WNBA league?
And from “[Things] Nobody Says“: Okay, name one bad thing that Hitler did
And a few from the “Overly Manly Man“: Do I want a beer? (a) Yes (b) a (c) b and P90x? You mean cool down?
Something for Lent
“In ways I do not fully understand, I know that I, too, did the deed, wielded the whip, drove the nails, thrust the spear.” Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon