Someone tell Meredith Vieira, esteemed newsperson, that it's time to let her assistant take control of her Twitter account. Because try though she might, it seems Vieira's attempts at keeping hip and with it on the modern living front has caused her to look like a drunk monkey jockeying for verbal autonomy. While riding a skateboard. Into a wall.
If it sounds harsh, that's because it totally is, but also because Vieira's tweets over the past few hours (still up on her feed at the moment, as well) have been one of the sadder attempts at technology that we've seen. Jumbled words, screwed up capitalization, fragments tweeted out with nary a structure to guide them into sentencehood.
Sure, it's mean to poke fun at your elders, especially over something as common as an inability to use the social mediers, as it were. But if we can't do that, then what's the point of being young and having one (of a very few) advantages over the over-50 set, eh? How else are children supposed to spend their days if they're forced to ignore the fact that mom can't seem to figure out emoticons, grandpa writes every Facebook comment as if it were a handwritten letter, and that the tiny smartphone keys make Uncle Lester unable to properly type "best local burrito shop" into Google?
Vieira's tweets read like the beautiful music of the most curious parts of the Internet. A whimsical poem of the weirdest nonsensical order. A look at modernity, and what happens when the world advances before the people in it.
"Today I Am" by Meredith VieiraToday I am thinkinbgToday I am thinkib I obviously suck at tweeting. Trying to say that today I am thinking about dear friend Mo Cashin and fami Screwed up again.
Month cashin and fami I give up love month and fami famly in breezypoi month cashin breezy oiI give up.
Love Mo and Breezy not drunk…just incompetent. Just bear with me. Stu Still learning
Aren't we all, Meredith? Aren't we all.