April came and went quick as a bunny, leaving the slow process of sifting through blog posts in its wake. But sift we did. And here’s what we found.

When big telcos get disconnected – by Sylvie Chicoine
Sylvie and Kristina conspire to share how cancelling services in favour of streaming is actually the biggest competition telcos have yet to face.

Advertising as a catalyst for positive change – by Trevor Gourley
Is it possible that bringing about positive change can be in the the realm of advertising after all?

Apple redefines how we think and act – by Harvey Carroll
Apple’s app store serves up thousands of apps which offer high perceived benefit for low cost. Does this mark a shift in redefining our perception of value?
Profanity Comes of Age – Daniel Gerichter
Is our immunity to the shock of swearing a symptom of a dying morality, or of us just collectively chilling the !#$@ out?

Comment of the month:

“My father lives in Cairo, and during February I found that the story I was getting through his texts and quick one-line emails was a lot more tangible than what a voice on the television told me about the unrest. Family relationships aside, the few dozen pictures, video clips, and emails that got through easily hold more impact, authenticity, and personality than anything filtered through four committees and a network supervisor.

So yes, turn to Twitter for your news. It may not be factual. It may not be unbiased. But it will be real.”

In response to: Q+A: Is Twitter the best source for breaking news?

Just over three months ago, I did the unthinkable: I deleted my Facebook account. And I didn’t just deactivate it to force myself to take a break from it; I opted for full-on deletion. Besides not being able to reactivate my account and have all the same friends, groups and tagged photos, I also got an ominous email warning from Facebook warning me of the dire consequences of deleting it. No more connecting with old friends. No more sharing links with them. No more invitations to events. No more likes.

They neglected to mention that I would no longer be sitting on Facebook for hours staring into the news feed void. I would no longer have a de facto procrastination tool. I would no longer post links just to see how many likes it would get.

I want to clarify one thing: I didn’t delete it to thumb my nose at my friends in that “actually, I don’t have Facebook” way. I had an account since it was first available to Canadian university students. I used it extensively. Too extensively. That’s why I got rid of it. Facebook is just too effective.

But there’s a catch to all this: I work in advertising. A lot of important, innovative work is being done on Facebook everyday. Is it a bad career move to no longer be interacting with one of the industry’s greatest tools? I guess time will tell, but for the time being I know that I’m very familiar with how it works, how people interact with it and most of its capabilities. Actually, a big motive behind deleting my account was because I found it impossible to use in moderation. But maybe I just don’t have any self-control.

Have we just accepted Facebook as an integral element in our lives? I’m now noticing that I am more likely to miss out on things because I’ve done away with Facebook. It’s assumed that everyone has it. Having a party? Invite your whole friends list and chances are you’ve invited everyone you know. Need to talk to someone? Send them a message. It’ll be faster than email. Possibly faster than a text. Everyone always checks Facebook.

So no, Facebook’s stranglehold on our lives isn’t debatable. The question has become: is that necessarily a bad thing? It was for me.

Maybe I’m just avoiding the inevitable. Maybe necessity will dictate that I swallow my pride and get another account. Maybe I’ll just have to work on my time-management skills. Maybe I’ll have to resign myself to the improbability that my friends will remember how to use a telephone. Maybe I’ll just have to accept aimless procrastination as being something productive.

Or maybe my life will go on, unshared. Do you really care what I’m doing, anyway?

Osama Bin Laden is dead. What could be considered one of the biggest scoops of the century was first reported by Keith Urbahn, the former chief of staff for Donald Rumsfeld. However Urbahn didn’t approach Reuters, BBC, APP or CNN with his information. He took it to Twitter.

In the past couple of years, Twitter has exploded into a newsroom populated by millions of accidental journalists reporting devastating natural disasters, fledgling political movements and massive international headline stories. Within moments, a brushfire of speculation about Obama’s “Emergency Announcement” swept across social media networks. The upshot: well before Wolf Blitzer could express that he didn’t “want to steal the President’s thunder,” the thunder had been well stolen, and the Osama jokes were already flying.

As a raw indication of Twitter’s emerging status, Elections Canada has been reminding voters of a possible $25,000 fine for using it to divulge election results before all national polls are closed. It’s clear that Twitter (and indeed, all social media) has been elevated from “what are you doing” to “how is your world changing?” On the dubious side, public resources are not subject to the same fact-checking rigour as traditional news media, meaning that some of the details are often lost, incorrect or out of context. That being said, the arguments in favour are compelling. Twitter offers an incredibly nimble medium to get “the big story” out there. It is infused with the emotional power of authentic on-the-ground reportage. And it allows for simultaneous, seamless public dialogue.

So when push comes to shove, do you consider Twitter a viable news source?