If you've been following the Twitter journey (or even if you haven't, to be fair), you'll probably have read about the site's meteoric growth (even though not everyone sticks around), how the million follower milestone sparked a popularity contest a PR consultant could only dream of, and how the site's concept could even launch a new phase of reality TV (*gulp*) - yep, Twitter is firmly in the new media spotlight.
All of which apparently makes it the perfect medium to tell people you're not actually dead yet. And there was me looking at Hallmark for inspiration...
So there you go, anyone who was wondering how Elizabeth Taylor was doing after her spell in hospital. She can still tweet, so she's doing ok.
All this is assuming, of course, that the person you're digitally checking the pulse of is actually in charge of their own account - Mickey Rooney and Kanye West might have something to say if you sent chocolates/'Get Well Soon' cards/lily wreaths based on what you'd read about (or "from") them on Twitter...
Apologies for the complete abuse of Descartes in the title of this post, by the way - I wonder if he ever imagined how often and consistently that philosophical thought would be taken completely out of context. Tweeting clearly doesn't replace thinking in terms of defining existence, but it does suggest that someone's hands still work.
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