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Month: August 2012

Don’t be a dickc

Don’t be a dickc

On arising this morning, I checked into Twitter and thought I’d have a look to see if CEO @dickc had acknowledged any of my messages. In a way, he had. His account page said “@dickc’s account is protected”. Now, when it says that, despite there being no padlock symbol next to the user’s name, it usually means you’ve been blocked. Various helpful chums had been suggesting that because of the time difference between San Francisco and Lowestoft (about 43 years…

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When Internets go wrong part 3

When Internets go wrong part 3

As a result of my recent blog postings on the Twitter thing, I was asked by the Guardian to do a piece for the Comment Is Free section of their website. It took a bit of soul-searching before I said “yes”, which, if you have any idea of how a freelance journalist’s mind works, is astonishing. Normally, the “yes” is implied by the speed with which I say “How many words do you want and when?”. I suspected that I…

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Shit, did you see that?

Shit, did you see that?

Thanks to my old bandmate and plane-spotting compadre Charlie Kennedy for alerting me to this classy bit of aviation – or, as he put it, a “comically smooth landing from the airline that gave us ‘Sully’ and the Miracle On The Hudson”. Watch this and remember every rough touchdown you’ve ever had.

When Internets go wrong part 2

When Internets go wrong part 2

I’ve reactivated my Twitter account, but I won’t be indulging in my usual Bruce Forsyth obsession and lies about 1970s newsreaders. At least not until I’ve found out why it took Twitter over 14 hours to suspend an account that had been posting images of the sexual abuse of children. I thought I’d email Twitter’s CEO Dick Costolo to ask why the removal of the offending item took so bloody long. Mr Costolo’s email address is not in the public…

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When Internets go wrong

When Internets go wrong

Having had access to the Internet for nearly 20 years, I’ve seen a fair bit. I have to say that the good far outweighs the bad. The information I’ve gleaned and the friendships I’ve forged make up for all of the spam and rubbish. People like to say that the Internet isn’t real life. For me, it’s part of real life. As an opinionated sod and terrible jazz-hands show-off, I love Twitter and spend far too much time on it….

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