I just had to take a quick break from re-writing the movie Red Dawn (it’s a rush job to shoot it before Patrick Swayze passes away and before everyone has jumped on the Cold War resurgence bandwagon) to talk about my Twitter heroes, the truckers.

Early adoption of GPS was mandatory for truckers given their destination-driven vocation. So they have taken to the location awareness services like Brightkite that we 3G iPhone users are just getting into. The iPhone can pinpoint your exact location and, using Brightkite you can check in at that location. (more…)

Equal amounts of laughter and applause at the night’s entertainment were followed by genuine conversation. Between my twitters, of course (twot is my Twitter name):

twot Arriving fashionably late! about 4 hours ago from txt

I even got the opportunity to talk tech with Don Gillmor who simultaneously visited and posted to our blogs for the first time ever this week. I couldn’t believe it! He had never read any of his Walrus articles online. But then he couldn’t believe I don’t read print magazines or newspapers. His curiosity and my verbosity allowed us to move beyond disbelief. (more…)

Like Dolly Parton, I love tackiness. In interviews Dolly often tells the story of being a little girl and admiring this ‘pretty lady’ in town. The lady had crimson lipstick, glittering clothes and platinum hair. She fashioned herself after this lady and it wasn’t until she was grown that she realized the lady was the town whore.

I relate to Dolly. Only I admired a place, not a person.

Growing up I dreamed of Las Vegas. Not a day went by when I didn’t imagine myself in the most beautiful place on earth: The Vegas Strip. As a child I dressed as though I was headed there (just in case). I wore gold lamé, faux-leather mini-dresses, and I stuck sparkles to my face.

It wasn’t until I was grown that I realized Paris, France, was supposed to be a far more desirable destination than Paris, Las Vegas. All the spitballs and Baby-soft perfume bombs suddenly made sense. (Note: I still haven’t made it to France).

But neither Dolly nor I changed our ways. I still prefer electric-green polyester paint-suits and neon to cotton and sunlight; likewise, Dolly never took off her wigs, nails, or boobs. (more…)

Want to scan and analyze the chatter of millions of conversations? Have an idea for a story, a song, a research paper, or are you a voyeur like me?

Go to Tweetscan.

Pick a word. Enter the word. Presto. You can even subscribe to the search and have it in your RSS feed.

Following the word walrus I have learned that they play an important role in the semiotics of the phallus (the beast not the magazine of course). And that those damn baby boomer idols The Beatles are quoted daily. We at The Walrus have a lot of work to do to remove that pantagruelian taint.

I also follow my own name and reply to everyone who uses it with a short explanation about how I am the real Chantelle. With each explanation I attempt to create the perfect and elusive self-obsessed, 140 character, haiku:

Bloody hammer finds
the lies that chantelle told you
selfish memes us two

The composition of my soul has been cleaved in two: one half social-net savant; the other A-list celebrity god-talker seeking divine counsel through a pop-cult telekinesis.The composition of my soul has been cleaved in two: One half social-net savant; the other A-list celebrity god-talker seeking divine counsel through a pop-cult telekinesis.

But everything that rises must converge.

A Hollywood A-lister has just joined Twitter: Diablo Cody (Academy Award winning screenwriter of Juno with the captivating stripper byline). This time the celebrity is real, not just a pretender scraping the Net and depositing an RSS feed into a Twitter account. And she’s great at it. Sharing just enough of her insider life to keep you panting for more:

I thought I was going to stay in last night, but I wound up on the patio of the Chateau at 2:00 a.m

And then Sharon Stone follows suit. Here comes Hollywood!

Look out, micro-celebrities Scobolizer and Leo Laporte. It’s like what happens to Ben Mulroney and Don McKellar (sorry gentle American reader, I know these names mean nothing to you) when the Hollywood cast of the Toronto International Film Festival sojourns in Toronto: Canadian niche celebrities get a train ticket to nobodysville.

The implications are enormous. (more…)

Are you sick to death of hearing about Twitter and not knowing what it is? Of feeling behind the times?

Here is a step-by-step Twitter video instruction guide presented by a pioneer lady. In just a few minutes you can be part of the modern era!

Twitter for Beginners: So Simple A Pioneer Can Do It from twitter howto on Vimeo.

Are you ready for even more? You’d better be:

• Concise and comprehensive guide to Twitter, including desktop applications and practical uses.
• Animation video overview of Twitter from Commoncraft.
• Video from the history of Twitter.
• 137 links of the most recent Twitter developments and news.
• My username on Twitter is the past form and yet femininized version of Tweet: Twot.

On my way to LAX I passed a Pollo Loco that was no ordinary fried chicken extravaganza. It was a warning.

Leaving Los Angeles is confusing. Like Twitter, it holds so much promise. As soon as I land and see would-be The Hills cast members I am comforted. Surely being proximal to those whose biggest problem is running into old frienemies at Vice will rub off. I can walk their walk, talk their talk. (more…)

Just scanning the title of Janice Galloway’s Walrus article”Opera” makes me feel tiny because my only opera comes at me in 30 second snatches when I am listening to scan on the radio. But the Toronto Star’s Stephen Marche’s article on celebrity operatics got me thinking. He compares Britney Spears to Lucia di Lammermoor. He describes how Amy Winehouse is similar to Puccini. Neat. The problem: opera is not a meaningful point of comparison to me.

Instead of opera, my parents were blasting Little Feat and The Who in tinny Radio Shack speakers above the chicken coops. At school we sang about Tom Dooley and how We’re All His Children. I never heard opera until I saw Pretty Woman. Like me, Julia Roberts as the Cinderella prostitute had never seen opera. Verdi’s La traviata made her cry. But I wasn’t planning to play sensitive whore for a middle-aged john. So ended my opera introduction.

I want to ask Stephen Marche what kind of opera would Web 2.0 be. I can’t guess because the only thing I’ve learned about it since Julia Roberts’ outstanding portrayal is that Edward Said likes to use opera terminology in is oh-so-self-reflexive cosmopolitan critical theories.

What I do know is fashion. So, I can tell you that Web 2.0 is eerily familiar to the fashion world. Early adopters battle the ugly hoards who drag down the prestige and edginess of a trend. Just look at Facebook. (more…)