TECHNOLOGY BLOG       

Twitter: Will it be the end of our future generations?

With more and more people spending every possible moment on twitter, what will become of the future?

Abi Thompson

Theguardian.com, Monday 14^th October 2013

 
Will we even go so far as to create a key on our keyboards dedicated to twitter?

“Tweet me later, yeah?” No don’t drop by or give me a call, just tweet me. Why? Because it is the in thing, everyone is doing it. I don’t want to be someone, I want to be everyone.
Is that all we want to be? Everyone? A society so consumed in what “everyone” is doing that we follow every single link to the newest things, buying the newest technology, blowing money we may not even have just to fit in with the crowd, getting the latest social networking site, or the newest x box game that came out today. To me that seems pointless, just like twitter.

Anyone who is “everyone” has twitter. It is the basis of “everyone’s” lives. Instead of going out for a meal with our friends or family we spend our nights cooped up in our rooms on our phones or our computers, on twitter. This is because society has told us to. People are forgetting how to have a proper conversation because the way they socialise is through tweeting.  People forget who their family is because they are so wrapped up in the stranger that has just followed them back and they immediately have to tweet their friend saying “guess what? That guy I followed finally followed me back!” congratulations a stranger followed you because he would feel bad if he didn’t follow you back.

Twitter is brainwashing society, ruining the chances of our future generations having any friends other than “twitter robots”. What a future this will be!

If you have a questions or would like to make any comments about this article please tweet me using @AbiThompson

Nearly there.

 

Just got off the coach. Nearly there. We walked up to the doors and they opened by themselves like magic. I saw three empty seats and I headed for them. Kat steered me away from them and towards check in, where there was an endless queue. Great. We were done in three short minutes, realising when we arrived at the front that it was just a computer and you scan your passport and continue through. On to baggage check we go. Even bigger queue, but we all knew this one would take much longer. When we arrived at the front we heaved our bags on the scales hopeful they were within the weight limit. Few they just made it, just. As we watched our bags disappear into the unknown the man gave us our bag receipt and the precious boarding pass. We headed off the passport control where we hand over our passports and get asked if Kat and I are twins. We move on to the next part where we had to strip ourselves of all jewellery, phones, keys, money, shoes ect. Chuck it all in the crate and send it through the x ray machine whilst we stepped through the terrifying body scanner. Awkward when it beeps on you. Why not Kat? Just my necklace. No more beeping. Finally we are in the departure lounge. Which contains shops, shops and more shops. We still have another hour till take off. What shall we do?

So close but yet so far – Unreliable narrator

 

So I was in New look and there was this amazing pair of shoes that were literally to die for. It was the last pair, they were my size. I tried them on and they looked great. It was meant to be! I really wanted them but I didn’t have enough money. I went over to my sister and told her how much I love these shoes and how much I cannot afford them. I kept dropping hints that I wanted her to split the cost with me. She did not get my hints. Eventually I got fed up of her stupidity and just asked her. No. That was her answer. No. Gutted. Please, please, please. I would not stop going on about it. I was determined to get those shoes no matter what I had to do for them.

I kept begging for about twenty minutes. “You can wear them too, we can share them. Please.” She gave in to my adorable, puppy dog eyes. I was so happy I practically skipped over to my new shoes. Gone. I look around to find them, my eyes stop at the till. This girl is in the queue with my shoes. She is right at the front but I still have enough time to get to her. I run over “next please” is shouted… no, my shoes. My arm is outstretched ready to get her attention. My fingertips just brush the back of her jacket. Gone. They are forever gone.

The day my rubber duck died!
I know what you are thinking. How does a rubber duck die? Surely they are not even alive. I always thought the same things. Until now.

All of Duckies friends gathered for a resurrection party!

So everybody knows that I have an obsession with keyrings. They also know that I have an obsession with rubber ducks. So this christmas I got given the best present I could ever ask for. A rubber duck keyring. His skin is as yellow as the sun, with a beautiful, bright blue light that shines from his beak and the most perfect quacking noise any duck has ever made.

My nephew came to visit and he was interested in Duckie, very interested. He is not yet two so I could not say no to him otherwise he would cry. He always does cry when he does not get what he wants. Spoilt. When I handed Duckie to him there was a moment when our eyes locked and I saw a murderous gleam in them. My heart was racing, what should I do? I can not just take Duckie off of him just because I contain too much fear, I will be named the worst Aunty in the world. I should not worry so. How much could a little boy do anyway? It struck me that I actually do not know. But what I do know is that single glint in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was so creepy and malicious it was like looking into those of a serial killer.
I had nothing to worry about, he was just playing nicely just holding down Duckies silver button, to hear him quack and see his beautiful light. Laughing happily to himself. Suddenly the whole atmosphere changed. A heavy weight fell all across the room, the sun had been clouded over and the room turned cold and dark. A storm had arrived.

It was a most horrific death. My nephew, being the horrible little boy that he is, kept bashing poor Duckie on the floor and the walls and then he threw him! CRASH! I watched as he crumpled on the floor. I dashed over and picked him up ready to give CPR if I needed to. His colour was no longer as bright as the sun, it faded. I pressed his round, silver button on his side. Nothing. No sound. No bright, blue light. Nothing. Just one massive clump of nothing. I am devastated.

My nephew laughs. If only he knew what I was thinking. I can not even bare to look at him. He waddles over swaying from side to side. He picks up Duckie. I am about to tell him to put him down when he throws him again! How dare he? He has already murdered him, how could he take it even further as to tortue his poor defenceless body even more. My evil nephew picked Duckie up and to my surprise he just pressed the silver button as if he expects everything to be as it was. He worked. His skin returned a brighter yellow than I have ever seen, his bright blue light shone like saphires and his sweet sounding quack returned as beautiful as a song. My nephew is a genius and he is not even two. I think he will be the next Einstein.