Twittering: 'Twas The Night Before Christmas

My son knows a little bit about social media. And occasionally, he looks over my shoulder when I have time for Twitter.

"So what's Twitter really like?" he asked me yesterday.

I could have explained, as some suggest, how the tools are used for conversations and those conversations are dependent, in part, on who you follow or who follows you.

But given the spirit of the season, I simply surmised that "it's a lot like the night before Christmas."

"How so?"

"How so, indeed," I said. "Take the last two weeks for instance …"

***

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all 'cross the Web,
No Tweeter was blogging, not even Perez.
The postings were done, auto-scheduled with care,
each blogger hoping that St. Click would soon be there.

Ike Piggot and his Personal Brand were all snug in their beds,
Dreaming up analogies to help fill some heads;
And Geek Mommy in her 'kerchief, and Armano in his 'cap,'
had just settled down for a two-and-a-half hour nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Mack Collier sprang to his screen to see what was the matter.
Away to the feed, Lisa Hoffman flew like a flash,
Tore open her browser, and started looking at Mash.
The blog drama du jour was on PR embargoes
Spurred on by Arrington with new media in tow.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature man, and eight tiny urls, oh dear.
Spurred on by their social networks, so lively and quick,
I knew in an instant it would be BC's pick.

More rapid than viral, with widgets they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, and called each other by name;

"Now, Eggertson! now, Maltoni! now, Sledzik and Ryan!
On, Lewis! on Vargas! on, Kaufman and Gylon!
To the top of all searches! To the top of all lists!

Now Digg away! Digg away! Digg away all!"

Compared to all topics, those favorites did fly,
They bypassed all critics with an odd ROI,
So up on those memes, with conversations they flew,
Stumbling some posts, and delicious saves too.

And then, in a twinkling, though Chapel thought it a spoof,
Did Jeremiah say social media is recession proof?
Even I drew my mouse back, and was turning around,
When down the chimney came Brogan in a bound.

He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were a mix between Web Betty and woot;
A bundle of Kmart toys he had flung on his back,
Made him look like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how Jacob!
His cheeks were like Megan, his nose like Chris Lynn!
And his droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a stogie held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a Jason Falls belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a Shel Israel elf,
(Basile laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself;)
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Let other brand builders know, they have nothing to dread;

So he spoke not a word, and went straight to his work,
Filled most of the stockings (except for some jerks),
And then, laying his finger aside of his nose,
Giving a nod, mentioned Izea, his host;

And he sprang off to backtype, or some other system,
And away they all flew like the Rowse of a thicket.

And then I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

***

"It's like that every week?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Happy Holidays.