If you don't send any, you are a miser.

If you send e-cards, you are lazy.

If you don't send charity cards, you don't care at all.

If you print addresses from Outlook onto sticky labels (guilty!), you are lazy and impersonal.

If all you write is your name underneath the printed greetings, you could not care less.

If you include a long update on everything that has happened to you over the last twelve months, you have too much time on your hands and deluded that people actually care.

But if you include a personal wish, a few warm words that are tailor-made for your loved ones, you are a (Christmas) star.

Having said that, any of the cards listed above makes me happy. So email away at lucabelletti@gmail.com! I hear Critter Carols could be this year's Elf Yourself.

An Italian senator who announced he wanted to switch back to support the government (after his party withdrew from the ruling coalition, thereby causing the prime minister to resign and the government to fall), was called a "piece of shit, traitor, cuckold, queer".

Another senator made a hand gesture as if to shoot him, and a colleague called him "wretched poof".

The insulted senator was reportedly spat on, fainted and was carried out of the Senate on a stretcher.

So today's sad Italian lesson is that regardless of their sexuality (I have a hunch that the insulted senator is as straight as they come), queer, faggot and poof are handy words that in 2008 are still perfectly apt to be used at all levels and in all official circumstances to describe your opponents.

• Prodi resigns after losing vote
• Senato, Cusumano annuncia il sì aggredito e offeso anche da An

Non torno spesso in Italia
I don't go back to Italy often
Literally: '(I) not return often in Italy'.

I did a little research online and it turns out that the one we have (a Philips QT4045 Turbo Vac Beard Trimmer) was not awarded particularly enthusiastic reviews because the rechargeable battery cannot be replaced, and it does not last forever.

So last night, after coming back with a new trimmer (the same again, there was not much choice in the shop), Dr B. took the old one apart and look what he found inside:

They look like two ordinary rechargeable AA batteries to me. But if they were replaceable the company would be out of business. Instead we are dumping another bit of plastic and metal and nickel-cadmium somewhere we'd rather not think about.

Civilisation as we know it is going to disappear under a mountain of discarded appliances.

If you have more than one installation, you can spend the best part of an evening doing something that should not be so painful.

That is why a while ago I installed a very promising WordPress plugin called Instant Upgrade. One click to upgrade to the latest version, that's what it promises. At the same time, it states very clearly that you have to give up ownership of files, and set permissions to 777 (read-write-execute), which I am not too keen on.

One word of advice: if you try it, then decide to drop it, you must be very careful to follow a very important procedure instead of the usual 'disactivate-delete files' standard one. You absolutely must follow the instructions via manage > InstantUpgrade and click on Change file modes (so that you have full access to them). This is because once you successfully upgrade once using the plugin, your WordPress files belong to the webserver.

This plugin is a stunning piece of work. Not for control freaks like me though.

We are in a fragmenting culture, where our certainties of even a few decades ago are questioned and where it is common for young men and women who have had years of education, to know nothing about the world, to have read nothing, knowing only some speciality or other, for instance, computers.

And all of this because of 'the new internet, which has seduced a whole generation into its inanities'.

Please note that Lessing was too old and ill to make the speech herself and instead had someone else read it out.

Ok, first of all, respect. The woman has a body of work and has achieved what can be considered the highest recognition in literature.

Secondly, that's where I come from too. Absolutely gaga about books since I was four, I was given the fantastic opportunity to choose to study literature.

But hey Doris darling, that's the way the world goes. I was not too happy myself when, in the early Nineties, I found out that my pride and joy, the degree I had moved to London for and worked my butt off to get a first and a distinction, was on the job market just as valuable as a weekend crash course in macrame.

I reinvented myself, never stopped learning new stuff, made a pact with the Evil Internet Overlord to feed my intrinsic curiosity and I now work very happily in software development. And as soon as I can afford it, I am going to enrol in a part-time BSc in computer science.

Never, ever look back, no matter how golden the past may seem to you. Chances are you are idealising it anyway.

Besides, OMG teh title of this post is just 2 funny LOL (by the way, credit goes to whoever captioned the image that illustrates this Techcrunch article on Lessing's lecture).

Apart from the fantastic Flight of the Conchords, all saved up on the PVR for a rainy day marathon, all I record now is filler TV, the kind of stuff I play back at 1.5 speed while folding laundry (i.e. Project Runway, The X Factor and Ugly Betty).

Last night I folded laundry while watching The Secret Millionaire, that I had recorded after a hammering multi-media (including Facebook status updates) promotional campaign by Chig.

I shall not go into details in case you want to download it from 4OD or catch the next repeat. Let me just say that Terry George, the millionaire, is a very decent chap.

I managed to fight back the tears throughout the programme, but when it ended the PVR switched back to BBC3 and the All New House of Tiny Tearaways. All new because Dr Tanya Byron is not running it (she has been busy writing Vivienne Vyle with Jennifer Saunders)? Or all new because the latest set of families seeking help with unruly children are teenage pram faces lounging around, fag hanging from pinched lips, effing and blinding and declaring they're bored.

I felt I was watching Big Brother, a show in which I lost interest since they started putting borderline psychos in the house.

That's when I finally cried.

So when I book seats I try and get one that's got a power outlet for laptops and phones.

Not if you book online, you can't. You can only choose airline, front or back. And even then, you are warned your choice might not be available, and even if it is, you might have to travel the opposite way because the train switched directions.

They might as well write 'Enter the big seat lottery – click here!'.

I booked a front seat, non-airline, and once again I was allocated a non-table backwards-travelling one in an otherwise empty and mostly unreserved carriage.

I have of course scattered my belongings on four available seats around a table, phone plugged in and happily surfing the power-hungry 3G network, my originally reserved seat unoccupied behind me.

It's not as if the data is not there: a few minutes ago I changed my return reservation at the ticket office, explained I needed a power outlet, and was given a 'table – window' seat.

All this data, and still a long way from seamelessly accessing it from anywhere.

I am not against the idea per se, in fact I'm quite excited about the possibilities. If I bought tickets to the Tangled Up Arena Tour I'd love it to be entered automatically into my events, for all my friends and colleagues to see. OK, bad example here perhaps ;-)

You will not hear my cry out at an invasion of privacy. It is your choice to share some personal details on Facebook. Your choice to add your colleagues as friends. You must be prepared to face the consequence of your actions. Don't come to me crying when your boss totally susses out your lame excuse to skip work.

The problem is that Facebook can't control the way partners use Beacon, and retailers don't always warn you when you shop with them that they are going to place the cookie and send the story to Facebook. You do have the option to refuse the story afterwards, when you log on to Facebook with the same browser, but what if someone else has used your computer, say to buy you a surprise present? Or, heavens forbid, a surprise present for someone else you are not even meant to know about?

If you use Firefox you can just use the BlockSite plugin and enter http://*facebook.com/beacon/* in the input box. Other browsers might not make it so straight-forward but you can still do it.

Of course, you can avoid being on Facebook. Or stop shopping online altogether. And then you'd be the modern equivalent of my dad who stubbornly refused to let anyone in the family watch the second TV channel that launched in the sixties because one channel is just enough, why would anyone want to be able to choose?

UPDATE [30 Nov. 2007]:

'Facebook has just announced that they will be updating their Beacon system. Stories will no longer be published "without a user proactively consenting."'

The accompanying leaflet showed the logos of some of the retailers that will be accepting OneTouch payments soon: Books etc., Coffee Republic, Yo! Sushi, Krispy Kreme, Thresher and Eat.

I decided to give it a go on Friday morning, as I was in Paddington station going to Cardiff for work and was as usual too early.

I went to Krispy Kreme, asked if they were equipped for OneTouch payments, was met with a quizzical stare. I left. My blood sugar was safe.

I was glad to see Yo! Sushi was still closed (raw fish in the early A.M.? Gaaah).

I got a coffee and a bottle of water at Eat, went to pay, asked for OneTouch. Yes? No? I showed my card, enquired about the reader, explained how I wanted to pay.

The kind, serviceable, customer-focussed till operator tilted her head, arched her eyebrows and rebutted 'You wanna do wha'?'

The queue was building up behind me. I fished for some coins. I wondered when the future would catch up with me.

Guess what? I'm a lovely, lovely person, and I can find out more lovely lovely things about myself if I cough up 8 pound 95 pence. This is what I got:

Your Unconscious Mind Is Most Driven by Peace.

You have a deeply-rooted desire to make peace in the world. Whether through subtle interactions with loved ones, or through getting involved in social causes, it is important to you to be able to influence the world in a positive way. You have a deep respect for humankind.

You care about the future of the world, even beyond your own involvement in it, and you inspire others to feel the same way. Your innate drive toward peace guides you in daily life towards decisions that are respectful toward yourself and others. Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are…

[via garoo]