A British Gentleman's Guide to the Internet

[Archer21]

There is a question that many of us are asking ourselves these days, and it

is this: What is the Internet and can it be of any use to a gentleman? The

answer generally perceived to be the most accurate is: Leave the beastly

thing alone and your pleasant life of indolence will not be affected in the

slightest. However, if curiosity does get the better of you, it is

important that you are aware of the true potential of the Internet.

The Internet has the potential to frustrate, enrage, irritate and generally

corrupt the very soul of any gent worth his salt. Should you find yourself

powerless to resist the mild inquisitiveness provoked by all the hooh-hah

surrounding this new-fangled device, I would like to offer a few sage words,

if I may, of guidance.

The Internet is an extremely complicated contraption which, even when its

functions are explained by a competent person, still manages to remain

entirely incomprehensible. Conversations on all matters relating to the

Internet are apt to produce an intense throbbing about the temples, coupled

with an overwhelming desire to throw oneself out of a window.

The only practical method for a gentleman to get his Martini-soaked noddle

around the concept of the Internet is to try and make a comparison between

the infernal piece of mechanical wizardry and his own oak-panelled study.

Let us navigate our way through some of the terminology as if we were

ambling our way into an afternoon steeped in the world of belles letters

within the cosy confines of our study.

LOGGING ON

What the technophiles call "logging on to the Internet" can be compared to

opening the door to one's study. Once "on-line" (or seated comfortably at

your enormous leather-covered mahogany desk) you will need to engage the

services of a "search engine". This is the technological (and therefore

rather prosaic) equivalent of your eager Moroccan houseboy, whom you are

often in the habit of commanding to fetch you a slim volume of verse from

the upper shelves of your towering personal library. The ladder which the

little fellow willingly scampers up is referred to in Internet-speak as your

"browser".

When he brings the requested tome to your desk and you begin leafing through

it in search of a choice quotation, this process is what the technophiles

call "searching a website". To simulate the "searching" experience with more

authenticity, try dropping the book on the floor every now and again, or

suddenly, just as you think you are about to find the quotation you seek,

snapping the book shut and losing your place. An even more dramatic note of

authenticity can be added by tipping yourself back on your chair, falling to

the floor, knocking yourself out, and regaining consciousness with a

splitting headache and bleary eyes.

ELECTRONIC MESSAGES

Now that you have observed some websites, you are ready to send an email.

The Term "email" is an abbreviation of "esoteric mailing system". The

process works like this: you type a message; the message is whizzed up to a

magical centre somewhere in the cosmos, and then it is bounced down to the

recipient through some diabolick process. The nearest approximation in your

study to this process is the following: Insert a fresh sheet of Basildon

Bond into your Remington typewriter; without bothering to use the

capitalization or punctuation keys, bash out a brief message, abbreviating

random words and making sure that your spelling is appalling.

For example:

my deer peregrine

wd luv to c u later this wknd. How about poping over one evng for a spot of

pimms and a game of cribij

yours

sheridan

Rip the completed message out of the typewriter, hand it to your footman and

ask him to deliver it to the address you give him. Give him a few hundred

pounds in cash as well, in case the recipient lives abroad and he has to

catch an aeroplane to reach him. In such cases, request that your footman

waits to be given a reply before returning to England.

WEBCAMS

There are some highly diverting websites available that feature what are

known as "live web cams". This is techno-speak for "live kinetic

transmission apparatus". The best comparison for these is the powerful

telescope you keep at the window of your study trained on the bathroom

window of the house across the road from you. When you observe the charming

young lady who lives there performing her ablutions, what you are doing is

the equivalent of "logging on" to the "live web cam" of her "home page".

Complete this illusion by shaking the telescope violently and occasionally

clapping your hand over the lens, and hurling a wad of ten-pound notes into

the wastepaper basket every time you see anything interesting.

AN EXERCISE

To really simulate the full joys of the Internet in your study, try the

following exercise. Come into your study at 9 am with the express intention

of checking the birth date of Lord Byron. Spend the whole morning rifling

through hundreds of your books, keeping Youssef running up and down the

stepladder until he's panting with exhaustion. Get sidetracked from your

task by suddenly running over to the telescope, spending a fruitless 45

minutes trying to train it on the right room in the house opposite, only to

observe the charming young lady's grandfather busy on the lavatory. Get back

to your searches for Lord Byron's birth date, then suddenly rush out to a

travel agent and book two tickets to Tunisia with no particular reduction in

cost. After eight hours, leave the study in a state of nervous exhaustion,

having completely forgotten why you wanted to know Lord Byron's birth date

in the first place.

And there in a nutshell, gentlemen, you have a precise simulacrum of the

joys of the Internet. Take my advice and leave the bally thing alone.

For some reason, I kept thinking of ProfPotts when I read this... ::tongue ::laugh

[knave]

::prof2

[Bahamut810]

As a direct decendant from the Mother Land (my mom is english) I have to say...this is probably what the old people in my family back there thinks of the horridness...err....internet.

[ProfPotts]

LOL ::laugh

Never could get to grips with the infernal Babbage Engine in the first place, wot? ::sly

Actually - replace 'house boy' with 'French maid' & I'm sold! ::blush ::wink

[harlequin]

*thud*

*wipes tears from eyes*

good one...