I can't quit you

Or: the rise and fall of Facebook

I'd quite like to not be on Facebook anymore. Not for any hipster-ish reasons - as knowing my friends, that will be the first accusation, and if that were my reasoning, I'd have deleted my account years ago. It's just kind of... boring now. I sort of can't be bothered. There's very rarely anything good on there. And that's not a specific accusation levelled at the people I'm friends with, not at all - it's simply that my social circle joined it at about 17, and while we've been changing over the last few years, so has Facebook itself.

Teenagers aren't joining it now (I have this on good authority from my 14-year-old sister) - probably because their parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents are, and are posting pictures of their walking holidays and mid-morning snacks, and bitching about the weather/the government/traffic. It used to be where you posted 102 pictures of one night out, then complained and commiserated about your hangover, then planned the next night. Statuses covered everything from the ever-so-slightly-amusing, to the wryly self-mocking, to the unashamed complaining. Now, I don't have too much of a problem with the inevitable rise of engagement ring/wedding/baby photos - well, I suppose it depends on how bitter hormonal I'm feeling, but most of the time, I quite like looking at pictures of pretty jewellery and dresses and cute babies. Who doesn't?!

Because the kids wised up very quickly when they saw that it was where Mum was posting their baby pictures, and decided not to go there, it's become a place for grown-ups to check up on each other. It's a given now that employers will search for the profiles of prospective employees - in an interview last January, the interviewer said to me "I see we've got a couple of mutual friends, how do you know Dan Smith?" (Not his real name, clearly.) This was eighteen months ago, and it felt a bit weird then, but now, I'm just assuming it will happen.

These days, my social media channel of choice is Twitter, which trounces Facebook in almost every way. It moves faster - if you forget to close the tab and then look back after a few minutes have passed, there will be at least 50 new bits of content. With the 140-character limit, there's less space for the braggers and moaners to brag and moan. It's perfect place for writers and wordy types - unlike the rest of the internet, on Twitter, text performs better than images, in terms of content-sharing (Twitter people are MY people). If it's images you're into, there's Instagram.

Twitter is also slightly less showy-offy, and a bit more "let's just share fun and interesting things with each other". Obviously this isn't always the case; a number of high-profile Twitter users - mainly women - have had truly shocking experiences with the site, and it has been very hard to get that abuse taken seriously. But for the small-time, non-famous user, it's a pretty good spot to be. Especially if you like words.

The other brilliant thing about Twitter is the sense of community. A gorgeous example came a couple of Fridays ago, during Channel 4's The Last Leg - while discussing the Budget, comedian Adams Hills suggested that anyone who was in need of, or could offer help (anything  - doing some shopping, mowing the lawn, looking over a CV) should tweet their offer or request with the hashtag #legup. Within an hour or so, there were nearly 16,000 tweets containing the hashtag. "If we're going to get screwed," said Hills, "we might as well push back". It was totally heartwarming - I saw requests for jobs answered with "send me your CV!" as well as fundraising targets being smashed left, right and centre - all because for a few hours, genuinely decent people were connected, held at a virtual stopsign by social media.

There's a short list of things that stop me quitting Facebook altogether:

1) it's a good place to promote the blog. Every time I look at my stats*, the Facebook link is one of the highest traffic sources.

*Something I do embarrassingly often when you compare it to the amount of hits I actually get.

2) it's the easiest way to stay in touch with my farthest-flung friends. (I possibly need to examine my priorities, having just put "promoting my blog" above "having and keeping friends" - but there you go.)

3) the messaging function is handy (especially if you and/or your partner are, to use the technical term, utterly shite with your phones) - in spite of the slightly weird way it tells you when someone's 'seen' your message. I'm certain that's caused a billion arguments since its introduction - "I know you got my message, Steve; what the hell were you doing that it took you four hours to reply, hmmm? HMMM???"

Let's be honest, I'll probably stay on Facebook; it still has its uses, and not enough of my friends get Twitter (what's to get, guys? Imagine a virtual pub, around the time of last orders, where everyone's having opinions quite loudly and merrily). It won't be long before the next social networking site lumbers into view.

On the Bambi bookshelf

It's another creepy stalker thriller; but a straightforward one this time, told from the victim's point of view. Wonderfully dark, the characters cling to you like cobwebs and show up in your dreams, long after you've finished reading. And finishing it won't take long - I'm a fast reader anyway, but I tore through this in a matter of hours. I think I may need to try and move away from stalker stories now, though, as they're starting to freak me out.

The kids are alright...

I know I said I wouldn't do much topical stuff, as I'm not very good at 'The News'. I'm really only interested in the politicians that are prioritising the further education and [un]employment issues of young people, and as that's basically none of them, it makes things very simple for me. This story, however, had "oh, for fuck's sake!" writtten all over it, so as the Handbook for the Overly-Opinionated Half-Hearted Hipster dictates, I thought I'd blog it out.

Paris Brown and I would never be BFFs, this much I know. She might be into the writings of Caitlin Moran and Grace Dent, girl singers with guitars, quirky little Anglo/Irish indie films and incredibly cerebral conversations about superpowers, but I'm not banking on it. (I sound almost quite cool when I describe myself like that; fear not, I also like Made in Chelsea and a dash of Paloma Faith - I'm not infallible.) But I've felt quite sorry for her over the last few days, as she's been dragged into the merciless sights of the British media and been forced to justify daring to behave like a teenager. A stupid one, yes, but good grief, when's the last time you saw a teenager and thought, "how wonderfully wise and well-informed you are"?

I believe I'm right in thinking it was the Daily Mail or the Mail on Sunday that started this shitstorm-in-a-teacup. If various current affairs blogs are to be believed, a journalist at the Mail on Sunday invited Brown to an interview and used that as an "in" to write a piece detailing her Twitter activities. And sure, she's said a number of things on there that are at best unwise and at worst offensive. And being young does not completely excuse her. But, aged 14-17, it is sometimes hard to see that a lot of what you say and do at this time will affect you later on. It's also a bit of a bitch that when you are a teenager - at an age where you should be free to be a little reckless and experimental - you are asked to make decisions that you're told will affect the rest of your life. There is also evidence to suggest that as well as all the physical shit you go through during your teen years, your brain goes through a bit of a re-wire too. But you're going to have to Google that one, as I can assure you, I am no scientist. In short, I don't think it's too much to suggest that a little bit of slack should be cut. A smidgeon of consideration should be had. I don't even think she put herself up for the job of Youth Crime Commissioner; I think someone suggested it to her.

The point is, judging by this girl's tweets - and indeed, her eyebrows - she doesn't seem like the brightest badge on the cardigan. I also find it hard to believe there are no other smart young people with an interest in youth crime (and a little more internet savvy) in Kent who would qualify for the job, but that's a complete aside. However (and it's a massive "however"), it just seems odd - no, ridiculous, actually - that a young woman is hounded out of a job because of things she wrote on one social-networking site long before she actually took up said post. And really, if we're going to start chasing people out of jobs because of things dredged up by the Daily Mail, then God help us. We're all fucked. There's also some irony in the Daily Mail getting outraged about a teenager's allegedly "racist" comments. Really, DM? Really?

There's no doubt that people should be careful about what they say online, because it can and will be held against you, should the circumstances arise. But that's just basic manners - you should be careful what you say in life. And not everyone has good manners 100% of the time. We wouldn't be human if we did. The internet is a brilliant, buzzing thing - but it's also a record of our stupidity. Once you write something on the internet, it's there permanently and it's find-able. I would cringe so hard I'd headbutt my desk if presented with my Facebook statuses aged 17-19. Hell, let me loose on red wine and then Twitter and it's a similar story now. Even here, on this little blog that averages maybe tens of hits, as opposed to hundreds or thousands, I have to rein it in sometimes, and remind myself that when I hit "publish", what I've said is out there for good, contributing to whatever idea of "me" any readers might have. I've had one particular post in drafts for months now which details the rather dramatic and upsetting demise of a friendship, but I'm not sure when, or even if, I am going to make it public. I don't mention names in it, and nor would I, but because I wrote it when the situation was fresh in my head and I was really bloody mad, it's a heartfelt piece of writing that I'm actually quite proud of (it's amazing how concise I am when I'm angry). I don't know if that post will ever see the light of day, because the last thing I want is to re-hash things from which people have now moved on.

The sad thing is, by Miss Brown deciding not to continue in her role as youth crime commissioner, she's unwittingly handed the Press - or a certain sector of it - more ammunition. They'll rub their hands with glee, and say that young people have no staying power or resilience, and that they knew it was a stupid idea anyway, giving teenagers adult responsibilities. I wish she'd decided to weather the storm, tough though that would have been, and then gone on to throw herself into that job, and make the role a worthwhile and valuable one. That would have made them eat their words.

On the subject of teenagers, have something gloriously bratty with a sing-along chorus. It's been getting me through my commute this week.

I am obsessed with this band at the moment - largely because I saw them live last week, and they were brilliant. Like the other song here, the chorus of this song is nothing short of glorious.