English Audio Request

You've Been Framed – which could more honestly have been called You've Been Carefully Set Up And This Is The Third Take – has a lot to answer for, not least that its bastard spawns have given governments, all of which, always, have the instincts of the Stasi, reason to suspect that the next generation of electors regard privacy as something which, like the Turks, they don't even really need a word for. From the narrowcasting of pre-selected idiots to the webcasting of self-selected dolts, all that the would-be net narcissist was waiting for was the technology. And now we've got it. It's in your phone. It's in your Flip. It's perched at the top of the computer screen, pointing at you, as the Numa Numa guy (type him into YouTube and watch him doing an amusing dance – why not, 35 million other people have observed him) found out and earned himself global fame.
The instinct to make arses of ourselves in public and forever must be strong in the young. Why? Attention at any price? The hope that some tall beautiful sad-eyed girl will think "that dude with the do-rag falling off the beach café roof: he's the one for me"? A sort of personal immortality? A kind of seedling belief that YouTube is almost telly, so that being on YouTube is almost like being a TV star?
"Nobody's looking at you," my mother used to say. Now I could just point her at my stats. "647,031 unique views in the last six weeks? Hardly 'nobody', I think. And that's not taking into account my TwitVid of the rook chasing my radio-controlled racing car or the Vimeo one where I land my Flight Simulator™ Space Shuttle at Biggin Hill or the ones on Facebook of me getting up, shaving, wearing my new hat und so weiter. No, you OLD BAT, I think PLENTY of people are looking at me."
And yet ... yet, I yearn for a Flip MinoHD. Even if I got bored waiting for the page to load, I know I want one. I could film myself writing this piece. I could film my Nespresso machine. I could film my shaving brush. I could film ... everything. And share it. In grainy stuttery 30-second takes. I could document it all. I'd be the star of my own life instead of being (as is the reality) just a walk-on. I'd be famous. And it wouldn't matter a jot that everyone else was famous too.