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Article: Virtual David

(or How to avoid becoming an Email pen pal)

David Knopfler 8 9 96

Having created a web site this summer on the Internet at www.knopfler.com I am now to be regarded as a veteran webmaster. The speed of the transformation from gangling, spotty, adolescent beginner to Expert would give Schumacher pause for thought. With confidence I predict Emails to "The Exalted One" or "Oh Mighty One" are sure to follow shortly.

There is a similar phenomenon which pertains to young kids who join groups and become global rock stars the next week. The parallels are actually quite uncanny: Both activities are totally absorbing and time consuming - you never see any money whatsoever - and you attract, as well as small number of wonderful new friends, an unavoidable coterie of cookie fans/pen-pals/loonies - delete as applicable.

To get around this problem (as I am confident I will soon be having too much input to my mailbox) I have decided to design a new piece of software which I have called "Virtual David". It will revolutionise the art of Emailing by generating excuses as to why I can't write back. The idea is that it will scan incoming Email to see if it is coming from a known sender, i.e someone already in my computer's address book. If it isn't it will automatically send in random order one of the following excuses:

(The reader should note that as this software is a beta test version some of the programmers comments are likely to be still attached )

1. I'm afraid I've been killed by a nun while visiting the year 2022.

. . . No one can handle you if you are too "out there". A variant on this is to discuss what the little voices in your head have been saying to you , or announce the upcoming annual check up at Intensive Psychiatric Care/Betty Ford/Vetinary Hospital - delete again as preferred.

2. I've been on my hols to New York and fallen in love.

. . . no chance - wrong city. Scratch that one. Maybe went to NY and still behaving like a New Yorker therefore too rude to be allowed back out into cyber-space for three months.

3. I'm English.

. . . They'll assume you are sexually repressed and most probably a pervert. Works especially well with Americans.

4. My hard disc crashed - the dog ate it/spilled ink on it/stole it.

. . . Damn I already graduated secondary school - so that's out.

5. I've been abducted by aliens/the CIA/M15/KGB.

. . . could be. They're all at a bit of a loose end these days.

6. My Mum's been feeling lonely

. . .so I had to cycle to Borneo to see her. On second thoughts why not go the whole hog - my mum's dead - had to go to heaven to see her.

7. I really live in sin with the Princess of Wales

. . . and can't therefore give away my true address.

8. I'm really spiderman.

. . . and can't therefore communicate further as it might reveal my secret identity.

9. I've forgotten how to turn on my computer.

. . . Now that sounds human and has the ring of truth don't you think?

10. My Hard Disc/Hifi/Fridge crashed

. . . and I've had to go to Silicon Valley by Yak to get a replacement part.

11. I'm sending you this four hundred page Phd thesis by reply

. . . stolen from an audio technical directory to arty types or send forty farty graphics of amateur art for techies. Lets face it, techies might like the directory of dry facts.

12. Write "My name is FiFi La Creme - the voices are telling us that your friend can't come out to play anymore - but I have some interesting photographs of head transplant operations if you'd like to send us your address"

13. If all else fails, a combination of all the above with the post script: "Hey Saddo get a life" won't.

. . . However it's a well known fact that one enemy will tell ten friends about you, whereas one pal will tell two friends.

There are unfortunately still the odd Emails that no computer can handle:

"Dear Mr Knopfler

You may not remember me. That's because we've never met. I have two extremely important questions for you:

I would really like you to tell me what Eric Clapton thinks of your brother's choice of hifi speakers. Please write back soon, as the earth may fall out of it's orbit unless I receive a reply by lunchtime today. My friend loves Mark's guitar work and says you must send us six sets of his strings with instructions as to how to put them on. Can he please send you his demo tape because he loved that song you used to play in 1937"

Also did you ever play the banjo in the summer of 1978 in Finland while balancing an ice cream on your nose because my girlfriend says she saw you in the park and if she's right I'll get a good spanking from her yip pee :) LOL OTF BRB :X :P {} B) :) ;) ;)

Master Fribble

A DS Fruit loop.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

z-- ' It's better to be a complete tosser than do something useful with your wife' --z

Zizzy Popstsa

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

PS Hey David have you ever met Zizzy Popsta? I think he's so talented. Have you seen the way he wipes his bum on his nose in his new video? So cool . . blah blah ad nausium.

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A small footnote: To be completely serious for a moment, and for the avoidance of doubt: I would like also to add the following comment, which is, that as a consequence of going online, I have received some of the nicest, most intelligent, most heart warming delightful letters that I have ever had in my entire career; that it has improved the quality of my life and that I am really sincerely grateful to those people who have given me the gift of their energy and time, and of whom I know with complete confidence, could never in their wildest imaginings think I am referring to them with the above pastiche. On the other hand . . . if the cap fits . . . then please by all means write a letter of complaint about me to Mark@Mark-Knopfler.com. It won't get through but it'll make you feel a lot better. This last joke was shamelessly lifted from Rob Aynsley's excellent Bluffers Guide to the Internet. I can also tell you from first hand experience that he runs a wonderful line in excuses.

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