About this Twitter thing

Twitter is the current big thing and as I've been tweeting for a while, people keep asking me what it's about and what's the point.

Twitter basically allows you to give short status snippets of what you're doing, thinking or sharing (eg URLs) - and you can do this by web or your mobile phone. That's the basic value proposition.

You can "follow" people whose tweets you want to read, and more and more celebrities are signing up and allowing a revealing insight into their thoughts and lives: Jonathan Ross and Stephen Fry for example. I've just started following Jane Fonda and David Bowie (although I'm still not convinced it's really him).

As a marketing device, companies can start Twitter sites. Intel, my company, has several, as does Dell and also Starbucks. It's a great way of delivering updates and snippets. You can also allow a dialogue with your followers.

I became aware of how compelling a marketing vehicle it is when I started gaining followers based on my tweets. I mentioned cloud computing (as you do) and I'm now followed by two cloud computing associations. I posted a tweet about being bitten by a squirrel, and now I'm followed by Squirrelnet. I am wondering if I should now revisit cloud computing and squirrels to try to satisfy my new admirers.

The other good thing about Twitter is that it's linked to Facebook. If you update your Twitter status, that update is reflected on Facebook. Twitter also updates Facebook with my blog updates, and I notice traffic has improved since I started doing this.

The fascinating part about Twitter is that it doesn't have any sort of visible funding. There are no adverts. I imagine this will follow. I believe that as soon as Twitter becomes as ubiquitous as Facebook, it will lose its appeal. Even now I am finding it harder to filter the good tweets and I'm only following 21 people. There are quite a few sites offering Twitter applets and ways of dressing up your page, but I prefer to keep mine plain.

Give it a try - it's quite addictive!

We should all have heard of him

It's been six years since I last saw a proper pop "concert," (unless you count Bjorn Again and Jane McDonald), David Bowie at the Birmingham NEC in 2003. So it was with some excitement I set off to the slightly smaller venue of Swindon Arts Centre to see Colin Blunstone.

When I announced my intentions to see him, my colleagues and friends were baffled. "Who's he?" was the refrain. Well, Lucylastic and Mike, who came with me last night, weren't too sure either, but they really enjoyed it and a lot of the songs came back to them: "Wonderful," "She's not There," "I don't believe in miracles."

The tiny venue holds around 100 and it was full. We were, gasp, in the second row! The trouble with such a small venue is that a murmured aside becomes a magnified stage whisper. When the support act, a young boy in a scruffy suit and woolly hat with a selection of guitars, announced that his CDs were on sale for £4, somebody said "bless," and his head shot up. "Did someone say 'bless?'" he asked sternly.

Colin, who's in his 60s now but very trim and twinkly (although Lucy did question the provenance of his suit and doubted if it was a Paul Smith) came out without any fanfare and the venue rocked for the first couple of songs. All the old favourites were sung and some new material from his first album for 10 years. His band were very tight, I think they say, although the lead guitarist was extremely irritating. One of those dudes who models himself on Mick Ronson circa 1972, brandishing his guitar and performing showy solos.

Colin has the most sublime voice and it was at its best in the ballads. The breathy quality for which he was noted was obviously a studio gimmick because in real life his voice is very strong.

At the end a group of Colin's fans gathered round to wait for the great man in the foyer. Lucy and I did too as we had lots of questions: what happened to Caroline from the song, who was the girl in the Lamb's rum ad; why hasn't he had an album for 10 years, does he want me to write his biography, etc.

Unfortunately he didn't show up but the irritating guitarist did, so we made our excuses and left.

Lucy will be blogging about the gig too so check out her post --- URL is in my links section ("Thoughts and worries from the wrong side of the hill").

Sorrow for Jade Goody, the modern icon

My heart breaks for Jade Goody, having been told she only has a few months left to live. She is a young woman with children, she had so much ahead of her. Now she puts her "matters in order" with the papers praising her bravery. Her boyfriend Jack, newly released from prison, struggles with the emotional turmoil of it and may not be able to give her the support she needs.

I was always an admirer of Jade's because despite a horrendous upbringing, she was one of the few who took her Big Brother opportunity and made the best of it, re-training as a beautician and opening a salon; writing a book; churning out TV programmes for Living.

Then came her much publicised fall from grace at the hands of Celebrity Big Brother. Looking back, what a storm in a tea-cup. Was her racist bullying of Shilpa any worse than the racist insults levied by the heir to the throne, his idiot younger son and Carol Thatcher, which the Daily Mail and others are quick to brush aside as "jokes"?

All we can hope for is a miracle for Jade. And I hope the doctor(s) who refused to take her seriously when she first tried to get a diagnosis have learnt something from their errors. If it wasn't for them, she would not be in the advanced stages of cancer.

Eggcellent news -or is it?

I don't know about you but I get mad at the tabloids (yep in particular the Daily Mail) squealing and squeaking about research that tells us one minute not to do something and the next minute to go ahead and do it.

The research I mean is always around food and drink and far from educating our poor obese nation, people just get more and more confused.

Today the papers tell us it's now OK to eat more than three eggs a week. They don't lead to high cholesterol. Well, yippee, because I certainly eat more than three eggs a week and my cholesterol levels are fine. But the paper says a lot of people still labour under the misapprension you shouldn't eat more than one egg a week because of previous research.

And there's still scepticism about the new research because it appears that the nutritionist involved was funded by the egg industry. So what should we believe?

The papers should be more responsible about how they use "scientific" research and hwo it was funded. The Mail in particular, which hates women, is forever running shock horror reports about the Pill and HRT and how red wine, chocolate, you name it, can increase the risk. Most of their research is taken from very small statistical surveys, without proper investment, so they shouldn't be taken seriously.

S I guess the jury's still out on eggs, but I'm going to carry on enjoying them anyway. Omelette anyone?

Mick the only surprise in tedious BAFTAS

Maybe it's the recession, maybe they're saving their best frocks for the Oscars. Whatever the reason, the BAFTAs was a distinctly gloomy gathering of the stars. Most of the frocks were black, whereas I was hoping for an explosion of colour as we've seen on the cat walks.

The only stars who stood out, to my mind, were Sharon Stone who J remarked "still looks good," in red, and Angelina Jolie, albeit in black but with a dash of citrus. I can't even remember what the gorgeous Penelope Cruz was wearing so it can't have been very memorable. "She looks rough" was J's remark about Kylie, in black. (Reminder to self: black now looks so boring!).

Meanwhile each category seemed to feature the same old films. I now have no inclination to watch either The Changeling or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I am quite enthusiastic now about Slumdog Millionaire and I've Loved You So Long. I can't believe how Mamma Mia hasn't won any awards - a marvellous feel good film, fantastic cinematography (and largely made at Pinewood - which wasn't mentioned when Pinewood was given its award).

The only surprises in proceedings were Mickey Rourke winning best actor, and Man On Wire defeating Slumdog Millionaire for Outstanding British Film. (I saw it recently and it really is the most marvellous documentary).

Plus, Mick Jagger was a big surprise. I've always discounted him as an ageing old lothario. But when he came bounding out on the stage I was struck by his charisma and his youthfulness. He was the only presenter who said anything remotely funny all night (sorry Jonathan Ross, but you were so busy minding your P's and Q's you weren't your normal ebullient, hilarious self - thanks prissy Daily Mail readers for that). Even my mother agreed and said she could almost fancy him herself.

Snow from Siberia

From Russia with love we have a thick blanket of snow today in East London, and still it snows!

I decided against my usual 6am sojourn to Swindon and right I was, as the M25 is experiencing a few difficulties. Sitting in my snug home office, the road outside is very quiet.

Apparently it's the worse snow for 18 years.

Here a few pictures from this morning.

Jade chosen to represent UK in Eurovision

I am a diehard Eurovision fan, as readers of this blog will know. I know the music is dire but it's the irony I like; the fact this is the only competition that unites Europe (in a very broad geographical sense) and the wonderfully kitsch performances.

But even I, a diehard, couldn't contemplate several weeks of "choosing" the UK's entry from the lacklustre bunch of contestants we were faced with. In week one it was clear that Jade from East London (not to be confused with Jade Goody) was the only one with any originality or talent, so I didn't watch it again until the final last night.

Fortunately the vote for Jade came through. I was fearing "The Twins," a pair of blondes whose calling card was to cry at any opportunity, would somehow win. Their rendition of the chosen song, Andrew Lloyd-Webber's "It's My Time," was actually the best, I thought, but The Twins would probably have bombed horribly in that colossal arena in Moscow. So it's with relief that Jade flies the flag: she is still very young but she's an embryonic Shirley Bassey.

Just for you Melissa here is the chosen song. May it do well!