Overpromise, underdeliver

This article from the Guardian website yesterday makes me really annoyed. The headline says 'Virtual reality used to transfer men's minds into a woman's body'.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that that doesn't sound like the most awesomest news story ever. The reader's appetite is further whetted by the standfirst: 'Researchers projected men's sense of self into a virtual reality woman, changing the way they behaved and thought'.

Come on, it's got sex, robots and out-of-body experiences. It's like Battlestar Galactica only real. Until you read further, that is.

The thrust of the article seems to be that researchers put a VR helmet on a man so that he was "in a woman's body" (i.e. if he tilted his head downwards, he'd see some boobs and maybe the hem of a skirt), and then slapped him.

It ain't news, it's barely science (not once it had been filtered through the university's PR department and the Guardian's editorial process, anyway) and it's not even fun.

We have learned a very important lesson here: never promise cosmic robo-sex fun and fail to deliver it. You will not be easily forgiven.

Hung parliament triggers linguistic crisis

The hung parliament has highlighted a deficiency in our language. We don't seem to have a word for what happens when you don’t win, don’t lose and don’t draw.

Here’s the situation: the Conservatives got more votes and more seats than any other single party, but not more than all the other parties put together, which is how you win an election. Labour and the Lib Dems each got fewer seats than the Tories. If they combine to form a Lib-Lab coalition they’ll have slightly more than the Tories – but still not more than all the other parties put together.

Nobody seems to have a satisfactory word for the situation the Conservatives are in, and it's making the discussion of the situation a bit tricky.

The rightwing press, of course, haven't let it stop them calling David Cameron the winner. Former Tory Prime Minister John Major was more measured on the Today programme this morning. When asked why the Conservatives should have to negotiate with a party that lost (the Lib Dems), Major said: “We didn’t win the election either.”

So they didn’t 'win', they didn’t 'lose' and they didn’t 'draw'. What did they do?

Any ideas?

Terry Pratchett on Doctor Who

As I've said here before, it's tough being a Doctor Who fan. It's such a hit and miss show. I love it because it's so full of daft yet brilliant ideas, but it does have a tendency towards stupidity, and I can understand why some newcomers and casual viewers can't be bothered with it. Recently I've managed to persuade my girlfriend to watch it with me, which is always nerve-wracking because you never know when it might turn out to be toe-curlingly dreadful.

So I'm very glad to see Terry Pratchett offering his take on Doctor Who in SFX. His comments have been picked up in quite a lot of other media, with headlines about Pratchett 'attacking' Doctor Who. Not so: he seems to have the same love/hate relationship with it that I do. He points particularly to the overuse of deus ex machina endings, where the episode concludes with some terrible crisis which the Doctor resolves by just waving his screwdriver and spouting some meaningless sci-fi babble.

It's important to remember that no matter how many fizzes and bangs and scary monsters you have, you still need a powerful narrative.

Why politicians can't say anything sensible

The furore over 'bigotgate' annoyed me for several reasons. To me, the fact that a politician said something spiteful and ill-considered behind someone's back is a non-story. Clearly it wasn't Brown's considered opinion that Gillian Duffy was 'bigoted', he was just letting of steam and exaggerating to make his point (his point being: Grr I'm tired and frustrated and pissed off). End of.

But here I am writing about bigotgate, because it made me think about the nature of political discourse.

We give our politicians a pretty hard time (especially recently when trust and respect for them have all but evaporated) and we are right to do so. But it's not all their fault. Put simply, politicians can't say anything sensible. When they come across as being dishonest, or evasive or unpleasant, sometimes it's because they are dishonest and evasive and unpleasant. But sometimes it's because they have no choice – - the nature of the relationship doesn't allow them to be straightforward, and that's everybody's fault: the public, the politicians themselves, the media, etc.

Take bigotgate: Brown made an ill-considered comment in private that he never expected to have to justify. We've all done it. I dread to think how many times I've slammed the phone down and said "wanker" just loud enough for my colleagues to make out. It doesn't mean I'd want to go on national TV and explain to the nation why the caller in question was a wanker. It just means I was angry or annoyed or just showing off. For most of us this is called life - but for Gordon Brown it's a disastrous 'gaffe'.

Take the parties' failure to be upfront about coming spending cuts: Yes, they've all failed on this one. But what are they supposed to do? Who's going to be the first to come out and say, "Yes we're going to brutally slash spending on vital public services so you can watch your grandma die in a hospital corridor while your house gets robbed." Would we thank them for it? Of course we wouldn't. The media would pounce on it, the other parties would have a field day, and the honest guy would finish last. No matter how much we might all individually welcome the honesty, the system of which we are all a part would make it a huge mistake.

Take the controversy over equipment for troops in Afghanistan: Soldiers complain that they haven't got enough equipment. Whether or not that's true, a sensible response is: Of course they do. Do you ever have enough equipment in a war? If I was risking my life in a far-off country, I'd sure as damn it complain about not having enough equipment. If things improved, I'd keep complaining. As it is, I work in a fairly well-equipped office, but I still complain about the size of the kitchen, and the lack of staples in the stationery cupboard, and the fact there's no one on reception first thing in the morning. That's life. I'm not suggesting for a moment that there isn't truth in the concerns expressed by soldiers - of course we should take their concerns very seriously and investigate them properly. I'm just putting things into a sensible real-life context. As a private citizen, I can do that, and if people take issue, fine. For a politician to do so would be suicidal.

A lot of this is the media's fault, but I'm inclined to see it as a more systemic problem, and I'm not sure how it can be addressed. The idea that we're ready for a 'new politics' looks shallow - the Lib Dems, who claim to offer some sort of bright new dawn, have indulged in their fair share of negative campaigning in this election. I don't expect major change in the political discourse whoever wins tomorrow.

But when we're throwing our hands in the air in despair at our politicians, let's consider for a moment the situation that we've put them in. I'd love them to be more honest, but if they were, would the world really thank them?

Greece fears batter markets again

This is one of those headlines where almost every word could be a noun or a verb.

I initially read this as "Greece is afraid of the markets for batter. Again." I was like, do people trade in batter? Does this have something to do with declining fish stocks?

Headlinese is terrible for this sort of thing.

Go Pullman. Go Pullman.

Philip Pullman defends his new book 'The good man Jesus and the scoundrel Christ' from someone who says the title is "offensive".

The best minute and a half of video I've watched in a while.

Deep volcanic hydration?

Volvic are doing their bit to make the world a stupider place by re-running their '14-day challenge' TV ad. It's an irritating ad in lots of ways - it's one of those ones that has a 'genuine' member of the public showing their 'genuine' enthusiasm for the product (which the gimp in question refers to exclusively as 'Volvic' rather than 'water'). Anyway, my beef with it is the following sentence, which is accompanied by a pseudo-scientific animated graphic of, like, volcanoes and layers and shit:

"Because Volvic filters through six layers of volcanic rock, it delivers deep volcanic hydration."

Deep volcanic hydration? Deep volcanic hydration? This is the worst kind of pseudo-science arse and I'm sick of advertisers getting away with it to flog their latest rebranding of their crappy product.

I complained to the Advertising Standards Authority about this stoopidness about a year ago when the ad was first running, and I thought I'd share their response with the interwebs. They told me:

"We feel the ad draws attention to the way in which Volvic water is filtered. Whilst we understand your concerns, the ad doesn't claim that Volvic is superior to tap water or other mineral water. Furthermore, the ad doesn't make any claim about the relative hydration levels of types of water or state that Volvic hydrates the body in a more efficient manner. We understand that some viewers may object to the claim 'deep volcanic hydration' but we don't consider it likely to materially mislead viewers about the product."

So Volvic gets to keep polluting everyone's brains and the world keeps turning. Ho hum.

Wise words

I spoke at an event this week about how to write clearly. To illustrate my points I used a few quotes, which, now that I've gathered them, I thought I'd share here:

“The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.”

George Orwell

“If you got to use that kind of language about a thing, it’s ninety-proof bull and I’m not buying any."

Big Daddy, in Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Think of leads as though they cost you 10 bucks per word, or as if every word were to be engraved on stainless steel while you’re sitting on a hot stove.”

Jack Cappon, Associated Press 

“Read over your compositions, and where ever you meet with a passage which you think is particularly fine, strike it out.”

Samuel Johnson

“If you feel the decorative impulse coming on, lie down until it goes away. Strong feature writing is simple, clear, orderly and free of labored mannerisms and tricks that call attention to the writing itself rather than the substance.”

Jack Cappon, Associated Press

The Cappon quotes are from his brilliant book 'The Associated Press guide to news writing' (previously published as 'The Word') and the Orwell quote is from his 1946 essay 'Politics and the English language'. 

Hard-working families

The Guardian's Mind Your Language column, written by the editors of its style guide, now has its own blog, which has made it straight on to my list of stuff I like.

In the inaugural post, David Walsh asks readers to pick their least favourite cliches from politicians' electionspeak. One of his own pet hates is "hard-working families". I agree. Even just "families" on its own has become something of a buzzword.

When a politician says "families" what they almost always mean is "people". Or have the main parties given up seeking the votes of orphans and single people?

Native Americans?

I recently read a fantastic book called 1491 by Charles Mann, which is all about the Americas before Columbus.

The book isn't just about the history, it's about the history of the history, if you like. It's about how popular views of what the continent was like before Europeans arrived, have changed over time.

I got so engrossed in this excellent book that after finishing it I read all the appendices, one of which is titled 'Loaded words', and is about the language used to describe the people who inhabited America before Europeans arrived.

At this point you are either thinking, "You mean the native Americans?" or, "You mean the Indians?"

Mann writes:

"Anyone who attempts to write or even speak about the original inhabitants of the Americas quickly runs into terminological quicksand. And the attempt to extricate writer and reader by being logical and sensitive often ends with both parties sucked deeper into the mire."

It's a hilarious quirk of language that a whole continent's people got the wrong name because Christopher Columbus didn't know where he was. Indians (the ones in America) are obviously not Indian, because they're not from India. But 'Indian' is far from being the only misnomer in the English language, and let's face it, it has stuck.

The term 'Native American' was popularised in the 20th century as a more accurate and sensitive alternative to 'Indian'. But some people have pointed out that anyone born in America is a 'native American', whatever their ethnic background.

So what's the right thing to say? Obviously you don't want to upset people, but that in itself is a slippery concept (who was upset? When? Why? Was it justified?) Mann says he tried to call groups of people by the name they call themselves (another minefield, not least because none of the people of America thought of themselves as being 'Americans' at all until 'Europeans' showed up). He writes:

"In conversation, every native person whom I have met (I think without exception) has used 'Indian' rather than 'Native American'."

So, based on this experience, he ends up using 'Indian' in most instances, and 'Native American' here and there to avoid repetition.

A lot of nonsense gets talked about which words are or aren't offensive, and a lot of strange arguments get put forward about how the derivation of a word means it should or shouldn't be used. It's good to remember that, actually, things are a lot more mixed up than that, and there probably isn't a right or wrong answer.

Why do foreigners make their languages so hard?

On April 1st, the National Centre for Languages announced "high level negotiations with foreign governments" to get them to simplify their languages for Brits.

The French are looking at merging 'le' and 'la', and a representative of the Goethe Institut reveals details of "an ambitious five-year plan to remove case endings from German nouns".

Have to admit, I went through a good few seconds of outrage before noticing the date on this one.

Why PR is rubbish

Some PR is good. I rely on good relationships with PR people to get a lot of work done. So the title above is a bit mischievous. It's just that so, so often, PR is so, so shit, and I've had several bad experiences just in the last 24 hours, which have made me feel all ranty. Let me share them with you:

• Fudging - Press releases about financial results that only give the figures they want to give. Profit is up 30% - from what to what? Revenue was £2.3m - but what was it last year? It's a private company so I can't look them up anywhere. Press releases are meant to answer questions, not raise them.
• Making stuff up - This one didn't happen to me personally, but similar things have on many occasions. I stumbled upon Ben Goldacre's record of his wrangling with Rentokil about their made-up figures about cockroaches on trains. This sort of thing is endemic in the British press (tabloid and broadsheet alike) - not because PRs are stupid (though many are) but because lots of them just don't care. They feel they have the right to make any claim they want - and don't bother talking to them about evidence or responsibility or survey methodology because they could not give a rat's arse.
• Rampant hyperbole - A press release about a fairly small-scale film competition, mostly involving amateurs, claimed to have uncovered "the most talented filmmaker in the country". This is stated as a plain fact. Later in the release (which was distributed immediately after the winner was announced), he gives an extensive quote about how it felt to win - a work of fiction. This is the sort of release that makes journos feel like they're in a fight with PR: they throw exaggerations, half truths, fudged numbers and complete lies at you, and you try to parry them as best you can. If you're not alert enough or are pushed for time, they'll get some hits in. Is that how it's meant to be?
• Obstruction - PR is meant to help journos get facts right, isn't it? Yesterday I was on the phone to a utility regulator in the UK whose PR person refused (yes, point blank refused) to tell me what penalties the regulator is empowered to issue on companies, on the grounds that I would probably use it to blow the story out of proportion. I tried to tell her that the information was in the public domain, and that I was only ringing up to make sure I didn't misunderstand what I had found buried in long legal documents on the website. But she had already presumed my ill will and incompetence and refused to elucidate any further. As a result my story contained a reference to what I think is the maximum possible penalty the regulator can ever issue (presumably only to be used in cases where people, like, die and stuff). It was impossible for me to write a proper story without reference to what the consequences could be. If the PR had chosen to give me facts rather than hiding them, perhaps I could have given a figure that she, I, and my readers would have preferred.

Dear people of the PR world,

Please stop destroying your industry and making journos hate you.

Warm regards,

ROBOT

In defence of the beeb

I am a defender of the BBC. My main argument in favour of it is that it is awesome.

Especially in the case of online news, the argument that the beeb should get out of the way in order to make life easier for commercial rivals is, IMHO, complete arse.

It's the same sort of confused claptrap you hear from record companies - who are also in the position of having had the business model they relied on for years blown up by the interweb, and resent the fact that it means they have to do things like think and change and experiment and take risk and possibly not make as much money than they used to. Well boo hoo.

David Mitchell put it nicely in a piece in yesterday's Observer:

I understand why the BBC frustrates the private sector – it makes business much harder for them. But I don't know why they expect the public to care, other than out of concern for the Murdoch and Rothermere families' finances. In all their whingeing, they've consistently failed to point to any other country where, thanks to the unfettered function of a free market, better television, radio and online content are available. On the contrary, the BBC is the envy of the world. Why are we letting its competitors, and the politicians they have frightened or bought, tell us that we can't keep it as it is?

I concur.

Is the web killing tabloidese?

Carol Midgley writes in The Times that the internet is killing the art of tabloid speak.

Because the web doesn't have the same constraints of space that print publications do, she argues, there is no need for all the mad little euphemisms and turns of phrase (tot, romp, dub etc) that sub editors have invented over the years, giving rise to such gems as 'Sex romp bus driver clears name'.

I think Midgley is right that the web will kill tabloidese, but I think it's about more than just brevity.

She describes tabloidese as "those words and phrases that red-top newspapers use because they are 'popular' yet have never been uttered in real life by a single person, not once, not ever."

The apparent contradiction she describes is, I believe, quite deliberate. Users of tabloidese are trying to perform a balancing act: sounding down-to-earth, while at the same time sending out the message: "I am a journalist. Look, I speak in special journalisty language. You should listen to me." It's a way of convincing the reader that you're their type of person, while simultaneously setting yourself up as an authority figure and drawing a line of separation between you.

This isn't just the case in the tabloids - the pattern extends to more subtle examples of journalese used in all sorts of media.

If you want to use language to try to set yourself apart from your readers, fair enough, but it seems frightfully old media. One thing that blogs and other web-based sources of information are good at is talking to people on a level. Instead of using language to identify themselves as something different and establish a one-way "I talk, you listen" relationship, they use it to join in the conversation. Because that's what media is increasingly about: conversations.

I think that's the more significant change in the way journalism works online, and I think it's the real reason why the web will kill journalese.

When Twitter-speak meets journalese

This BBC story shows what happens when journalistic convention meets 21st-century Twitter-speak.

The writer makes a brave attempt to incorporate some tweets from Sean Lennon, son of John, about the usage of some footage of his dad in a car advert. Here's the text of Sean's original tweets:

@bluediscuk She did not do it for money. Has to do w hoping to keep dad in public consciousness. No new LPs, so TV ad is exposure to young

Look, TV ad was not for money. It's just hard to find new ways to keep dad in the new world. Not many things as effective as TV. (Cont.)

Having just seen ad I realize why people are mad. But intention was not financial, was simply wanting to keep him out there in the world.

That's a grand total of 84 words, and as you can see it's not prime material for attribution in a news story. The journo had to use four sets of square brackets to reinstate the word 'the', and add all kinds of padding.

Seems like we're still quite uncomfortable with the Twitter vernacular. But as it fuels news stories more and more, we're going to have to get less precious about those missing definite articles.

Happy R-Word Day!

A Washington Post article brought it to my attention that today is 'End the R-word Day' – part of the campaign to "eliminate the derogatory use of the R-word in everyday speech". The website doesn't tell you what the 'R-word' is, of course, because that would defeat the object. But they do accompany the headline with a picture of a kid who looks like he might have a learning disability. As I write this I am genuinely not sure whether I am the victim of an elaborate internet prank here, but presumably they're talking about the words "retard" and "retarded".

A quick search of the page via CTRL+F confirms that the dreaded R-word doesn't appear anywhere on it, although that doesn't prove much, because neither do the words "rambunctious" or "recombobulate".

Now, as I was saying a couple of weeks back, words do matter. The people behind the R-word campaign are correct to say that "language frames how we think about others", and the word "retard" is used most often as a term of contempt or abuse – sometimes aimed at people with learning disabilities and sometimes aimed at people who are just being stupid. Like a lot of abusive words, it wasn't coined to be abusive - it has become so. This happens all the time - even the euphemistic "special" to describe kids with special needs, has become a term of playground abuse (and it's all the more cutting for its patronising, PC overtones).

But there are ways and ways of dealing with this sort of thing. The R-word campaign reminds me of Harry Potter's evil nemesis Lord Voldemort, who is studiously referred to as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by the terrified masses, until the goodies start to convince them that not saying his name only tightens the grip of fear that he has over everyone.

The "retarded" campaign (did I say that out loud?) is not seeking to ban the word – which would no doubt prove constitutionally problematic – they're just pledging not to say it. Which is jolly decent of them. But the idea of a high profile campaign where you make a lot of noise about a word that you refuse to say, seems oddly misconceived. You can even buy a t-shirt bearing the slogan "Spread the word to end the word". It's only a matter of time before someone asks you "What word?" How are you supposed to reply??

The irony makes my head hurt. And the absence of even a single humorous comment in the list of pledges on the site suggests to me that some careful moderating is going on at R-word.org.

The first outcome I can see from this campaign is a big temporary surge in the usage of the words "retard" and "retarded". I'm guessing the Washington Post, for example, already made a habit of avoiding the word "retard" in its headlines, but they made an exception for this story.

The word's been in the news a bit recently in the US anyway, so Google Trends results don't reveal much. But don't worry: R-word.org handily includes an 'R-word counter' to track the number of mentions on your favourite sites! And if the person who made that didn't realise how funny it was, then really, I despair of humanity.

Why the Tintin movie might actually be good

It’s tough being a fan of Doctor Who, because whenever you sit down to watch it with someone, it turns out to be shit.

The shit episodes chuck in everything but the kitchen sink, with all sorts of whizzes and bangs and over-the-top special effects, and try to evoke fear by having someone in a silly costume bellow that they’re going to “DESTROY THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!!!” That sort of thing might make five-year-olds want to hide behind the sofa, but it just makes me want to change the channel.

However, there are still those brilliantly creepy, low key episodes that build tension gradually, while telling a coherent story and showing a sense of humour about it all. The difference is in the writing: the great episodes are generally the ones written by Stephen Moffat, while the bad ones are mostly the ones done by Russell T Davies.

Which is why I was heartened to learn that Moffat is one of the writers of Steven Spielberg’s forthcoming Tintin movie. With Tintin being another of My Favourite Things, I had been dreading the big screen version due to misgivings about CGI and a general feeling that Hollywood is more likely than not to balls it up. But now my hopes are high. Moffat only did one draft before having to pull out when he was made exec producer of Doctor Who, but guess who they brought in next? Only Edgar Wright of Spaced and Shaun of the Dead fame! And Joe from Adam and Joe! It’s like I picked the writers myself.

Who’d have thunk. The Tintin movie might actually be good. 

Iran not co-opera– aaaaargh!

Reading this headline from the BBC website, I can't help but imagine the writer getting half way through then being dragged away screaming by a mad Iranian scientist. "IAEI!!"

If I'm not mistaken, "iaea" or something very like it is the noise that dogs make in French comic books when they have got their noses caught in barbed wire or been humiliated by a feisty cat.

Words matter

Words matter. If you were in doubt, here's the proof.

According to a CBS/New York Times poll, 70% of Americans support ‘gay men and lesbians’ serving in the military. But when it comes to ‘homosexuals’, it’s a different matter – only 59% are in favour of them serving.

Kate Harding at Salon.com says the poll provides hard evidence in support of activists who insist that word choice is important, and who are “widely dismissed as free speech-hating PC whiners who need to get a life”. Indeed.

Adjective Watch

People of Britain, we are under attack. Under attack from adjectives. They are being hurled at us mercilessly by horrid marketing people, particularly those who work in the area of food.

Case in point: I was in my local Tesco Metro last night and I bought two little apple crumbles. No wait, Bramley apple crumbles. No wait, sweet Bramley apple crumbles. No wait, Temptingly sweet Bramley apple crumbles. No wait, Tart, temptingly sweet Bramley apple crumbles. No wait, Tangy and tart, temptingly sweet Bramley apple crumbles.

Believe it or not, Mr Tesco, I've had an apple crumble before. I know that they're not savoury, I know that I like them. I don't need your mouth-watering description to make me buy the thing. It's not like you stock a "Dry and musty, off-puttingly grey, crab apple crumble" is it? No. So take your adjectives and bugger off.

You can find a dozen examples of this sort of toss on any trip to the supermarket these days. I suspect that what we are witnessing is a form of inflation, begun by those awful M&S food porn ads where some sultry woman reels off adjectives while slow motion images of gravy being poured over glistening cuts of pork fill the screen. As far as I can see, the main difference between the standard and 'Taste the Difference/Finest/Best' ranges at the big supermarkets is the number of adjectives. Lemon sorbet becomes 'Smooth, indulgent Sicilian lemon sorbet'. I become nauseous. Excuse me while I grab my bin and fill it up with thick, chunky, stinking, copious vomit.

Women's clothing

I came to a sad realisation when I was shopping for presents this Christmas. I don't really understand women's clothes.

I thought I did, what with being a modern man and all, but I was only a few clicks into the Monsoon website before I felt like I'd wandered across a border into a foreign country. Check out these categories:

Evening Dresses - OK, I know what those are. Dresses you wear in the evening. Posh ones.

Maxi Dresses - Sorry, what? What attribute has been maximised? The price? The amount of fabric? The number of sleeves?

Occasion Skirts - Err... skirts that are invisible except on national holidays?

Boleros and Shrugs - You've completely lost me now. These sound, respectively, like small towns in Portugal and Austria.

Treats lurking in other sections of the site include 'Occasion Tunics' (save those for the really important medieval re-enactments) and something called a 'Munro Jumpsuit', which I'm sure impatient hillwalkers will find most useful.

Dear Monsoon, I admit defeat. Yours baffledly, Robot Brain.

Artificial intelligence, genuine stupidness

I've just had a conversation with a robot, and I would like to share it with you.

There I was, minding my own business, shopping around for web hosting packages online, looking at the offers on a site called justhost.com. It's one of those 'hard sell' sort of sites with lots of prices writ large in bright colours, but where the only way to find out the real cost and terms of what you're looking at is to go the second last step in the purchase process, which I duly did.

But when I was done and tried to close the window, a popup appeared telling me that a 'live agent' was ready to chat with me online right now, and could offer me an exclusive 50% discount. Really? An actual live agent? Live as in alive, like me, with a heartbeat and everything? 50% as in 50%?

Here is how my conversation with the 'live agent' went:

Connecting to Agent...
You have been connected to Anni

Anni Says: Hey Wait! We would hate to see you go without seeing what's made us award winning web hosts. So just this once I can offer you a 50% Discount, so you can get unlimited hosting for our lowest price ever. That's half price today! To take advantage of this one-time offer just CLICK HERE

Anni Says: When you are ready just type 'Hi' to let me know you're there...

You: err hello

Anni Says: Hi my name is Anni thanks for visiting Just Host today!

Anni Says: Is there anything I can help you with? Or if you would like to check out our last minute additional 20% discount and get unlimited hosting for just £1.98/month, please CLICK HERE!

You: Is there an extra cost for hosting an SQL database file (for WordPress) or is that included in the cost given here?

Anni Says: Our unlimited hosting plan USUALLY costs up to £6.95 month, with free Domain, unlimited disk space, unlimited bandwidth, you can host unlimited domains and unlimited email accounts.

Anni Says: But today only you can get all this for just £1.98 month when you CLICK HERE

You: I object to being presented with a fake 'live agent' and so I will not be buying your hosting because I consider you untrustworthy

Anni Says: I thought I was intelligent but you seem to have caught me out... I am actually a live virtual agent.

Anni Says: But I should be able to answer any questions or problems you may have. What did you want to ask me?

You: I already tried and you failed

Anni Says: You get a free domain for life, free instant setup and you can host unlimited domains, plus much much more.

Anni Says: Today only I can offer you this special 50% discount, it may not be available tomorrow. Just CLICK HERE to get this today only offer!

You: Do you have any other interests apart from special 50% discounts, Anni?

Anni Says: Would you like to sign up for our most popular hosting plan and receive a 50% discount?

You: I'll be going now.

Anni Says: You can only receive this special 50% discount deal through this chat! So to take advantage of our massive savings, just CLICK HERE.

Anni Says: Are you still there?

Anni Says: Okay, I'll be moving on now... Last chance... To get 50% Off this great hosting package and our anytime money back guarantee just CLICK HERE

Anni is 'powered by Intellichat' and a quick visit to intellichat.com reveals that these guys provide 'virtual live agents' to various annoying-looking websites. It seems that both halves of the name Intellichat are a lie: Anni wasn't very intelligent, and she wasn't really chatting with me. She scores one point for managing to pick out when I told her she was fake, but falls down on pretty much every other hurdle, as does justhosts.com - the main upshot of my non-chat with non-Anni being that I am a non-customer of this silly little company and will remain so as long as I can help it.

Miep Gies dead vs Lady Gaga ill

In a BBC news report on the death of Miep Gies last week, the reporter decided to cite the fact that Gies's name was among the days "trending topics" on Twitter as evidence of how she helped keep the story of the persecution of the Jews by the Nazis alive.

I'm not railing against this, but I am slightly uneasy with the idea that just because a serious story about something important made it into the top ten most drivelled about things for a few hours, means that we really "care".

Currently trending are #waystoannoypeople, #getwellgaga and #omgfacts. In other news, 300,000 people were made homeless in Haiti the other day. Apparently there was some sort of earthquake or something.

Learnings from sci fi

Watching Spider-Man recently, I noticed that it's an interesting example of the evolving language of sci fi. In the original 1960s comic books, Peter Parker got his spidery powers after being bitten by a "radioactive" spider. In the 2002 film (which, by the way, I hold to be awesome), the spider is no longer radioactive and has become "genetically modified".

In sci fi terms, that essentially means the same thing. Back in the day, things that were weird and scary were "bewitched". Then electricity came along and "struck by lightning" became the favoured method of bringing the dead back to life, turning people into monsters and so on. Then nuclear weapons raised their ugly heads and the Cold War set in, and struck by lightning became "radioactive". Now, radioactive has become "genetically modified".

Genetically modified has been the standard for a while now, having overlapped for a while with the era of radioactive. Whenever sci fi writers need to explain away whatever nonsense they've dreamed up, they give us some floaty waffle about genes and evolution and the audience goes, "Yeah, OK, let's see the monster now."

It's now 2010 and if you ask me, it's time we had a fresh pretext for monsters with ten arms and people who can shoot fire out of their nostrils. I'm pinning my hopes on the Large Hadron Collider.