Remember that scene in Indiana Jones where a giant boulder rolls uncontrollably after our hero, gathering pace as he darts around to avoid it? That boulder is a story gaining momentum online, the path it's speeding along is Twitter, and Indiana Jones, well, Indy is fine – save for a few bruises, he makes it out and grabs his hat. More and more we're seeing online stories thunder along like this boulder, gaining speed.

Last week, Brian Cowen's was-he-or-wasn't-he-hungover interview was that story. Although many people were talking about the interview after it happened, the media focused on Twitter, principally due to Fine Gael's Simon Coveney tweeting his disgruntlement. Would the story have taken off just as much without that starting shot? Maybe, maybe not, but it gave the perfect platform for everything to kick off.

Twitter is just another neighbourhood for public conversation. There are loads of them – Joe Duffy's Liveline, the Adrian Kennedy Phone Show, Politics.ie, Boards.ie, the bus, your kitchen, a taxi, a work canteen, a group email between friends.

But there's a much more interesting effect of Twitter on the news we're digesting offline. Mainstream media is now beginning to imitate the way news disseminates online. This change is one of many ways in which how we behave online is seeping into our offline behaviour as widespread internet access and addiction to smartphones see us become often more online than off. Our online identities on social networks – manufactured positive projections of who we are – are becoming interchangeable with our real-life identities. But equally, or more importantly, how information – news – is presented to us is changing.

There's a joke description about buzz bands that refers to a new act being 'bloggable' or not, as in 'do they fulfil the coolness criteria to gain blog inches'. Now, it's beginning to seem as though some news is subconsciously measured on its tweetability. The news agenda is becoming less dictated by what is actually important, and more influenced by what people are talking about. And where do people talk about things these days? Well a lot of conversation happens online, and a lot of it is centralised on Twitter.

For news organisations, Twitter is a pretty benign information hunting ground. Need a last-minute story? What's been big on Twitter this week? Need to find some kind of consensus? Check out what people are saying on Twitter. Need a funny quip or comment on a funny event? Nick something that someone said on Twitter.

But it's not just about sourcing news on Twitter. The way news disseminates online, often in a disproportionate or frantic way, is also being mirrored in mainstream media. More stories are being flogged to near-death, with repetition on front pages pushing them into some kind of abyss, like Ronan and Yvonne Keating's separation here, Wayne Rooney's escapades across the water, or the non-stop hyper coverage of freed rapist Larry Murphy. Repetitive front pages day after day are starting to look like re-tweets.

Axl Rose from Guns 'n' Roses walking off stage was not a national news story, but it became one because of the Twitter storm that followed it. There's a separate point to be made here too. Oftentimes, a story takes off on Twitter almost on purpose. It's as if Twitter users are ironically aping the overcooking of a news story and purposefully pushing a live event further and further, sometimes into fantasy. With Axl, it was about making up what he was doing on stage in tweets for comedic effect.

There's so much power with Twitter, that I bet if a group of twitterers colluded in manufacturing some sort of news story – a public transport crash, a gig fiasco, or a celebrity incident – journalists would be all over it within minutes, and it would probably end up being reported. I hope I'm not giving you any ideas.

What people forget is that, just because that information boulder is rolling along on Twitter, doesn't mean what's being talked about is important. Three per cent of all Twitter traffic is related to the teenage pop singer Justin Bieber. Does that mean that 3% of all media should be about him too? Oh God, please say no.

Hold me...

Wherefore art thou Socky? The end of The Den marks a moment as poignant as the forsaking of toys in Toy Story 3. Apart from giving us two of Ireland's most popular broadcasters (no, not Zig and Zag – Ray D'Arcy and Ian Dempsey) it was the de-facto babysitter for a generation, its omnipresence as comforting as an old ESB ad. I don't know about you, but I'll miss it just being there.

Thrill me...

If there was any doubt about the high level of creativity bursting through the cracks of Ireland's economic ravine, then one only needed to check out some productions at the Absolut Dublin Fringe Festival, which runs until next Sunday. I don't think I've ever laughed as much at anything on stage as the Family Guy-infused Monty Python surrealism of Pajama Men, while Ponydance exploded with brilliant flippancy. Go see something stat.

Kiss me...

It's a brave new day for newspaper design here at the Sunday Tribune, but there are also some interesting developments online in Irish news. Thejournal.ie should act as a good daily fix for your news updates (even if they have nicked the Guardian's font) while everyone awaits Mark Little's Storyful, which is turning into the most anticipated Irish new media website ever.

Kill me

In the parallel universe of VIP magazine, television presenter and Bord Gáis switcher Lucy Kennedy beams on the cover with her new baby. Ignoring the fact that below her is Stephen Ireland welcoming us into his ridiculous home, why would anyone allow their baby to be plastered on the front of a magazine? How can TV personalities complain about tabloids chasing them or printing inaccuracies when they are colluding in the invasion of their own privacy?

umullally@tribune.ie