This week when we came to boot up our trusty BBC Micro (younger readers might need to Google that) in order to check our social media we were surprised to learn that, via Netscape Navigator (younger readers might need to Google that too), all and sundry knew everything about us from our shoe sizes to our off-shore bank account numbers. Actually on closer inspection it became obvious that marketing companies didn’t know that about us because we have our profile set up in such a way that we identify as mixed race, non-binary, early twenty-somethings. They will know that some of our number have a penchant for Prog Rock because someone keeps sneaking down to The Bunker in the dead of night and programming Soft Machine into the Internet Of Things (older readers might need to Google that) connected jukebox. A fact which shames us all. What perturbs us most in all of this is that its referred to as ‘social’ media when we are anything but – except when plied with a flagon or two of sweet sherry. In that instance we can be quite approachable. The lesson we have learned is that you should keep yourself to your self – otherwise they’ll make you vote for Donny John.
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