Meg Rosoff

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Chatroulette is messing with my head.

I was intrigued, mainly because it had such a cool French name.  Only it doesn't.  It's chat roulette.  Like Russian roulette, only with chat.  It started in Russia, appropriately, and even more appropriately, it works more or less like the game where you hold a gun to your head and repeatedly pull the trigger, only you don't risk death, just the utter weirdness of strange encounters. I don't have a webcam, so I can't join the millions of Americans who are leaving behind the tame pleasures of Facebook in favour of live chat with random strangers from around the world. Damn. But I do love the advancement of language -- the verb "to next" someone (ie, to press "N" on your computer, reject the random stranger in front of you and move on to the next random stranger) has already entered common parlance. Some of you will know all about this, and are no doubt thinking, "Chatroulette? LOL, that is SO last week."

Over in this quaint little corner of ye olde Britain upon sea, however, my mind is quietly boggling.