About

I write the Cyberclinic column in The Independent and bits and pieces for The Guardian, Time Out, The Observer, The Independent, The Independent on Sunday and various mags including Radio Times. I'm also a reliable, punctual and balding copywriter. I live in London, I write the occasional tune, and I play keyboards with not just Keith John Adams, but also Scritti Politti.
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invasion of privacy

3rd May 2006

Today's Independent carries a feature I wrote about couchsurfing, along with a preposterously-sized picture of myself and my couchsurfing guest, Emily, in a not-at-all-set-up shot of me handing her a mug of tea. Except there was no tea in the mug by the time the picture was taken, so I was just handing her a mug. How hospitable. "If you could just wash that up, cheers," I'm probably saying. Anyway, you can imagine the kind of relentless stalking I'm subjected to as a columnist in The Independent, and I'm trembling with fear at the information this picture is giving out about myself, my status – financial, marital, mental.

1. Only 6 "Double G And The Traitorous 3" t-shirts are in existence; a brief trawl of the internet will no doubt reveal that these shirts are owned and maintained by the band members themselves. I have been outed. What might happen when it's discovered that it's an alias for Scritti Politti? I dread to think.
2. A small portable radio, with a dog on the front that also starred on the front cover of The Keatons' final LP, "Ex Vide Betamaxi In Honda Cotopaxi". What might my link be with The Keatons, who were unceremoniously chucked off Blur's first UK tour for "unprofessionalism"? What might happen if the truth is unearthed?
3. A picture of my grandmother and grandfather on my mother's side. A few days spent at the family record centre in Farringdon with a detailed scan of this picture would probably trace my whole family tree, had it not already been done by my parents.
4. My prized "Halls & Oats" birthday present given to me by [info]internetsdairy a couple of years ago, consisting of some Halls mentholyptus sellotaped to some Quaker Oats, as a tribute to Hall & Oates. Does this mean that I have some kind of fondness for the Philadelphia duo? I'm not saying.
5. This isn't a crease in my wall, it's a crease on the page.
6. A poster to be found in 1986 album "Too Many Cowboys" by The Ex on the Ron Johnson record label. "Off duty PC hurt", it reads. "An off-duty policeman was injured after his motorbike collided with a pedestrian at the Clock Tower in central Brighton today. PC Timothy Hornby, of Burgess Hill, had face and arm injuries. The male pedestrian was more seriously hurt." This unashamed broadside at our police service could see me languishing in chokey before the week is out.
7. A copy of "A Place Of Our Own" by The Free French. The less said about this, the better.
8. Emily, the couchsurfer. The one thing in the room that doesn't betray some information about me. For that, I offer my sincere thanks to her.
9-12. I'd better not say any more.

Link: Do You Come Here Often?