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The Beckhams' decision to go against the habit of a lifetime and give their child a daft name naturally prompted many jokes on the webosphere, one of which was this: "Harper Seven is how I'd imagine Beckham would announce what time she was born." Nice gag, eh? And the Daily Telegraph> agreed with me, going so far as to include it in this piece on the online reaction to Baby Beckham's name - with a lovely credit to me (for I am @jazzchantoozie on Twitter). My delight at seeing my Twitter handle in the Daily Telegraph was, unfortunately, only surpassed by the mortification I felt when I was alerted to it. Because there was just one small hitch. It wasn't my joke.
Britain's children have lost the fine art of socialising. A whole generation has been brought up with their heads in laptops, furiously typing away, oblivious to the world around them. If you - like me - have not already surrendered to the beast, you are considered an alien.
How many facebook friends is it right and proper for an MP to have? We ask after John Whittingdale, put on the spot about
Picture the scene: the lights are low. A computer screen flickers with a Facebook login screen. An investigator, desperate
In the world of online, our appetite for our new crushes need never be sated. Like a fat kid tearing open chocolate eggs on Easter morning, you start off gorging yourself but by the afternoon you are left feeling tired and emotional.
They say when you walk along the streets of London you are never more than six feet away from a rat. Looking at some of the headlines carried by newspapers in the early days of the internet you could be forgiven for thinking every user was never more than two mouse clicks away from child pornography.