“We have to talk about Twitter.

I realise that to some of you those six words will have an almost hypnotically infuriating quality. A quality that will compel you – like a spitting, frothing Manchurian Candidate programmed to hate anything popular – to skip over the actual contents of an article and head straight for the comments button.

“What a surprise,” you might possibly write, “yet another Twitter story from the Guardian.” Or perhaps you’ll resort to satirical profanity, certain in the knowledge that you are the first person ever to refer to the microblogging service as “twatter.” If you’re one of those people, then I have a different idea. Instead of posting your anti-Twitter comment, how about you just stop reading right now and take the opportunity to go and put the kettle on? Then, while the kettle is boiling, open the cupboard where the tea bags are kept and rest your chin just inside the open door. Next – and this is the important bit – slam the door hard, and repeatedly, against the soft part at the side of your skull until you begin to lose consciousness. Then – and only then – as the blood begins to pool on the kitchen floor, take the kettle full of boiling water and pour it directly on to your genitals. Be careful not to waste a drop.

Obviously I can’t guarantee it will make you feel better about Twitter, but knowing you’re in that kind of excruciating pain will do me a world of good. OK, off you go – and try not to let the pointlessness of your life hit you on the way out…”

This week’s column is online.