I had a bizarre event a few months ago. Well, it seemed it at the time.

I needed to get a pair of glasses for a girl who’d lost hers and had to replace them with exactly the same, even though it was ‘discontinued’ and not available. I googled the model to see a photo to see if there was anything similar as the manufacturers had taken it off their website. But no, sorry, ain’t got one, come and choose another.

The next day I had a message on my personal email, from eBay offering me a brand new frame in the right colour, size, everything. So I bought it and sold it to the girl. What? I’m a charity?? The girl was so happy. And the world was a better place.

And I thought ‘wow!!!’ the power of the internet. It helped me. It led me to the path of profit. It facilitated my life. But its fucking scary. That a business computer can result in personal emails. Whether beneficial or spammish or a pain in the ass is not the point. The point is that the connections are all ‘in there’.

Then I had a conversation last night which was even more scary. My friends were just talking over breakfast about something they needed to buy, just casual and chatty, as ya do. His phone was on the table, ‘asleep’ and resting and seemingly inert and benign. But then he started getting messages offering him the items they’d been discussing. Same make, model, colour…

Apparently ‘whatsapp’ listens whilst its asleep. You have to turn off the ‘microphone’ facility in the settings. Or it spies on you. From a marketing perspective but really; do we need that??

And this is mind blowing too. The Voyager 2 space probe, launched in 1977, has finally left the Solar System, its gone out of the area influenced by our Sun. Not like Manchester, which also gets no sun, but like, a long way away. Where da sun quite literally don’t shine. And its now on its way to the next star. And travelling at 35,000 miles an hour (no speed cameras up there) it is going to take 40,000 years to reach the next star. Which, if you do the sums, is… carry 3… times 7… a million for luck… is a fuck of a long way.

And should it encounter alien beings, they’ll open up the package of photos and tapes and stuff and immediately start looking for a Betamax to play them on (good luck doing that here, let alone half a light year away). And if Shawaddywaddy doesn’t have them rushing to planet Earth then the prospect of getting a mullet haircut surely will. If they have hair. On their 3 scaly heads.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx