Even the twitterer Paulo Coehlo did not save me

Empirical reasons why twitter won't go neither mainstream nor my mother.

Last week I saw that Paulo Coehlo had a twitter account.
Light at the end of the tunnel !

When I'm trying to explain what twitter is, at best, I receive a polite smile, immediatly followed by a courteous change of discussion. At worst, a sermon on hyperconnected addicts.

Have you ever tried to explain what twitter is to your mother when she is horrified by the number of sms you receive per day ? If so, you know what I mean.

For the understanding of the Gordian knot of my œdipian triangulation, you need to know that between my mother and I, Paulo Coehlo is a sorta litigation.

Some years ago, I suffered from a large ego wound when he went in Brive, France - sweet Corrèze - met my mother, had a nice discussion and a funny dinner where my parents went ... without me!
Many years of a silent rancor is coming out ;-)

"Look ma', Paulo Coehlo has also a the twitter account, I could send @tweets to him, if I would.
- Uh, to say what, you even don't know him".

Sigh.
Is it what we could name in french the "fracture mumérique" ? ;-)

That's exactely at this point I understood it is sometimes unnecessary to try to explain, and most of the time vain to try and share our own folie. We, the hyperconnected vs the 84% of everyone else on Earth, the new cursed poets!

That's exactely at this point too that I also understood the power of Paulo was not as strong as I thought. If he can't convince my mother to give twitter a try, who else could ? Britney Spears? Meh?

And that's why, since this day, some funny brains call me "tweET " (twee-E.T)
... and showing their finger say "Texto Paulo"!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!