of the people in Britain, 18.6 million, used it to spend pounds 2bn in the past 12 months
`Internot' - the Last Man Unwired
The stories broke and empires sold
As people sought and bought as told
But miles from the cutting edge
He cycled out to shop for veg.
"This InterTent," he'd asked one year
"D'you think it might catch on round here?"
No answer came, in spite of it
But roars of laughter at his wit.
And as they all turned to their screens
To click and tap at their machines
Log on, curse ads, peruse their mail
He popped out to a jumble sale
While others used the Internet
To buy a house, consult a vet
Divorce, invest, or book a flight
He played the sax by candle-light
"You'll have to go online. You must
Or eat your rivals' cyber dust."
Commercial suicide, they'd stressed.
He sat there yawning, unimpressed.
But even with subscriptions soaring
The matter seemed ... well, slightly boring
"One day you'll HAVE to know this stuff."
"Or what? Won't I consume enough?"
"Oh very neat. Just click the mouse.
A retail outlet in my house.
And how convenient for the banks.
To close their branches down. No thanks."
"But all this information. Look."
He glanced up briefly from his book.
Replying: "You said I'd HAVE to drive.
I never have. I'm still alive."
He used no credit, knew no PIN
Paid cash when any bills came in.
The Internot slept long and late.
And nothing happened. Which was great.Reuse content