Denis Kilcommons: Why I’m not a blogger

Sep 6 2010 by Jane Yelland, Huddersfield Daily Examiner

CHILDREN as young as three are online blogging, I read, which leaves me wondering whether the technological age has swept me by.

On the positive side, this encourages children to write and make friends. On the negative side it puts them in a room with a screen and who knows what friends?

Barrie Gunter, a professor of mass communications at the University of Leicester, says: “Kids are more confident about using tools like blogs. They see them as an integral part of their lives, compared with adults who see them as an extension.”

Another expert says:“If a nine-year-old wrote an article for a newspaper, we’d be impressed. So why is it any different if they write a blog?”

I always thought I was pretty computer literate. When computers were introduced at the Examiner, I was one of the guinea pigs who got a terminal first (which sounds a bit like a degree from the University of Death).

As soon as the Amstrad was available, I bought one for home use. Remember the Amstrad? They now seem as ancient as stone tablets.

Am I being left behind?

I used to have a thesaurus and any number of dictionaries on my book shelves but now I use the online versions on the internet.

E-books are on the verge of becoming popular and no one sends letters anymore.

Actual handwriting is going out of fashion as younger generations send text messages or use keyboards to send emails. Never mind about joined-up writing or even spelling. Leave it to the computer spell check.

I do not Twitter and the only blog I write is this column, because I do not want to put a lot of information about myself online – age, address, sex (yes please!).

You know, the sort of personal stuff someone can use to obtain a passport or credit card in your name, and the first thing you know about it, are the bailiffs knocking at the door or Special Branch breaking it down because they have you tagged as Osama bin Laden’s sleeper agent in Huddersfield.

Is my voluntary internet isolation cutting me off from a whole new world of friends? Not really. I prefer my friends to be real rather than follow Britney Spears on Twitter or join a website of avatars where all the chaps are six foot two with names like Stud or Rock and the women have legs that go on for ever and answer to Sheherazade or Raquel.

Just think about it. If I’m Rock who is Raquel in real life? Eighty-one-year-old Elsie Sludge with no teeth and a colostomy bag?

Anyway, if I’m lonely I can always dip into the slush pile of mail I get from scammers that is usually diverted straight into my email rubbish bin. You know the sort: making offers that are too good to be true, just as long as you send them details of your bank account.

I’ve just had a look, in case I needed a friend, and found I have been attracting a better class of fraudster of late.

Mrs Dani Husky, for instance, says I have been recommended by no less than David Cameron to receive Western Union money transfers of $7,500 twice a week for six months. Which is nice. Is this the Prime Minister’s new pensions initiative?

Then there is Princess Fustina Karom, a 23-year-old student at the University of Burkina Faso, who wants to have a long term relationship with me. She obviously has a thing for older men. Her father (the king) left $7 million and she wants my “humble assistance” to transfer it into my bank account. Like you do.

Tempting thought the offer sounds, I don’t think I’ll bother replying. My wife wouldn’t approve of me having a long term relationship with a 23-year-old, even if she is a princess.

And I don’t want Special Branch kicking down my door.