A generation finds itself?

Cretin he may be, but serial muppet Calvin Harris tapped into something with that awful first single.

There was, it seems, an emerging trend in which the children of the 1980s finally found something with which to identify: the decade of their birth. It's bizarre, but it's kind of cool in a way. Being a child of the 80s myself, it occurs to me that we drew the short straw by having to grow up throughout the 1990s - certainly when it comes to age-related identity. Think about it. Think of the first thing that comes to mind when you consider the 60s,70s and 80s. It's fashion. It's music. It's identity. Now think of the 90s...nothing. And yet the kids born in the 90s are now part of an e-generation well on the way to establishing an identity as kids of the 00s, albeit probably not a particularly positive one currently.

My generation has long been scrabbling around for something to cling to, to pin their identity on. We're too young for rave culture, too old for whatever it is they listen to and wherever it is they go now. As a generation, we've rejected Britpop and indie as an identifier, and thank god we have.

But something strange has happened in the last couple of years. As we've emerged into adulthood as a generation, we've stumbled (ie been told by commerce) across an identity with which we're comfortable. Oddly, we have begun identifying with a decade most of us can't remember and none of us were able to play a cultural part in. We are no longer children of the 80s in name alone. The fashion cycle has returned leg-warmers to the fore at the very same time we were ready to accept our membership of a generation, and we've engaged.

Harris, the irritating git, was clever/lucky enough to spot this, and has made a mint off it. His number one (s)hit 'Acceptable In The 80s' tipped this phenomenon over the edge, although it didn't start it. Droplets of 80s fashion are returning, but they are not as popular as items which explicitly identify oneself as a child of the 1980s. Take a look around at the 18-27 year olds in the street and I guarantee you'll see either one of these items, or a Frankie Goes To Hollywood type slogan in big fat letters.

Children of the 80s, we have identified ourselves at last. What a shame the culture of the 80s was utterly, entirely and all-embracingly shit.

Right...who was it?!

Oh, poor me! Poor, poor me!

Where I grew up, you knew who gave you a cold. You were either at home, at school, at work or with your impossibly large-breasted 17-year-old girlfriend in her impossibly large house, praying that her father didn't own a shotgun like all the other bumpkins. As such, when your face became infested with snot and sniffles, and your head felt like you'd been paintballing, you knew who it was. That's because you lived with your family, you knew who was blowing greenies all over the playground, and if the girl who was far too good for you in the first place had a cold she'd be bitching and moaning about it as if it were your fault.

Unfortunately I don't live there anymore, I live in London. As my throat starts to do its impression of a chainsaw blade, I don't know who to blame. Suddenly, I could've got it anywhere. London is a great city, but disease-free it ain't.

In this case I can be pretty sure I haven't caught it from my flatmates. We're quite close and the lucky wenches seem to be in decent health at the moment - until I get home that is, and breathe my lurgy all over them. The guy next to me at work must be a decent candidate, snorting and sniffling as he is. But it's not that simple. To put it bluntly, I could've picked this thing up anywhere between home and nine tube stops away where I work.

And that's the thing about London. If you're going to get ill anywhere, you're going to get ill here. The air is full not only of pollutants, but also viruses and diseases, and anyone commuting through the murk is likely to pick something up.

So before I start accusing people and directing my nasal-sounding revenge threats at them, I thought I'd take a different approach: if you've given me a cold, act like a grown-up and step forward. I'm not angry...I'm just disappointed.

And you must be punished.

Merry C-Wii-stmas everyone!

I must be missing something, but my first and only Nintendo Wii experience did nothing to rectify the doubts I've had about the damned thing since I first heard about it. Now I don't pretend to be an expert on anything (except for football), but that means I live out in the real world rather than some geek haven, surrounded by smartphone review units, notebooks and pizza boxes. As far as the Wii is concerned, I dig the tech. It's nifty, but I was convinced upon announcement that it would flop harder than Butterbean on a diving board once it reached the market that really counts: the consumer market.

Shows what I know, right? The Wii is huge, and as well as being a favourite at Stuff, it now is the subject of such demand that there is likely to be a shortage this Christmas. And I'll be honest, I really didn't see that one coming a year or two ago.

(From CNET)

I'll tell you what my concerns were - and indeed are - about the Wii. I thought the mixing of motion-tech with medieval gaming was a risk, because essentially it is simply whacking a gimmick on top of substandard gaming. Don't get me wrong, I don't think Nintendo had a choice, I'm sure the technology isn't good enough yet to map onto next-gen consoles. To be honest, I thought the novelty would wear off and that gamers would return to their preference of gaming quality, graphics and so on. Wrong.

I also thought the Wii was going to be hampered by attempting to get the gaming demographic off its arse and do some exercise. Gamers like videogames because they can sit down, chill out and play. I didn't believe the Wii had the ability to sell well in a market of lazy people. Wrong.

Finally, I thought it would struggle to compete with XBox-360 and PlayStation 3. I don't know the sales figures, but I also haven't read anything about those two products being in short supply over Christmas. So...I was wrong.

Nintendo seems to have successfully targeted the previously non-gaming consumer and showed them a new kind of fun. Maybe I just don't like the thing because I'm a scrooge, but facts is facts and I've been proven completely incorrect. Just a shame nobody's going to be able to get one.

Hell is closer to the surface than you might think

(From Jupiter Images)

Three months in, and the London Underground has become worse and worse since I returned to the capital. I live two stops from the end of my Underground line, and for a few weeks there was a slim chance of getting a seat on the way in to work. It rarely worked out like that, but those memories seem a lifetime away in comparison to the shocking conditions I have to endure currently.

This morning, I managed to struggle on to my train into a crush. I repeat, I live two stops away from the first stop on the line. How the hell does Transport for London expect people to get to work if the trains are full so early in their journey?

I'm sure it's not just my imagination getting the better of me. The trains are definitely getting busier and busier, and every morning gets more uncomfortable as the winter draws in. Maybe it's a seasonal thing, I don't know. Regardless, the fact that the people responsible for it will take no notice is a problem.

I know there's not much they can do, but it is clear that for them it is all about getting bodies on trains, crammed in as tightly as possible. Will they add stock? Will they improve bus routes? Will they add rails above the doors on all trains? Of course they won't. Because they don't need to, as nobody will stand up to them because we all need to go to work.

Having said all this, the most irritating thing is the idiots that I have to share a carriage with. I don't mean the people who don't move down the carriage, or who play music loudly, or whatever. They're just minor irritants. I mean the sufferers of what I'll be dubbing "Princess Syndrome". In other words, they think that even on a carriage in which everybody is uncomfortable, they must not be inconvenienced in any way. Look out for these people next time you're on the Tube, they're everywhere.

The reason I bring this up today is that I was stunned this morning by the biggest Princessism I've ever witnessed. On our carriage, there was no space whatsoever. We were basically standing in each others pockets, arms intertwined, feet wedged into any space on the floor we could find. Despite this, people have to get off at their stop, and this leads to a bit of a crush as people make way for them. As we arrived at one stop today, some people had to cross the train to make their exit, and people squeezed up to let them off - leading to a brief uncomfortable few seconds for me and the people around me. Fine. I get that, it's not a problem, it's logical.

Except, that is, for the silly wench behind me, who felt the need to shove me several times in what can only be described as a temper tantrum. This was a grown woman, stressing out at having to come into contact with another human being on a packed Underground train. Woe is me!

So next time, love, if you can't handle it don't get on the train. And if you throw a wobbly again I hope it's a woman you assault, and she gives you a proper slap.

Get Safe Online

Factoid: putting your personal details on social networking sites leaves you open to identity theft.

That's a given, right? Identity thieves necessitated the need for cross-directional paper shredders, such was their ability to bin-dip. Your identity can be stolen from the narrowest slithers of information and I'm amazed that anybody would still put their personal details on MySpace, Facebook or any other SN sites you'd care to add to the list. But they do, in their droves according to BBC News. 11 million Brits use social networking sites, and a quarter of them include personal details on their profiles.

Get Safe Online is, predictably, a website providing expert advice on staying safe online, from ID theft, spyware and hacking, right through to safe online dating. This week is Get Safe Online Awareness Week, and despite my gut feeling that anybody who includes such details on their profiles in a dangerous way must be a little bit slow on the uptake, if the campaign receives enough coverage it might just do enough to prevent a few identity thefts in the future. More to the point, traffic to the GSO site should raise awareness about online technical and personal security in general.

You have to ask questions though. How does this problem still exist? In my own experience, it happens less on MySpace than on Facebook. I expect this is because while everyone knows putting your details on MySpace is plain damned stupid, Facebook's development has belied its more negative capabilities. At its birth, and through its early lifetime, Facebook was for students only - new sign-ups had to provide an academic email address. Members linked their profiles only with those of friends. It felt safe. When I first joined Facebook as a student, the number of telephone numbers on there was outrageous! I don't know what it is about Facebook, but it seems to give the impression that only your friends can see you. And that's simply not the case: at default, anybody can see you if they were so inclined. They simply have to join your network. Besides, Facebook is now a social networking site for everyone.

Clearly I welcome the idea behind this Awareness Week, and urge anyone who stumbles across Trashed And Scattered to take a look at the Get Safe Online site. But I have two obvious tips first: don't put your details ANYWHERE online, and make use of Facebook's privacy settings. They're there for a reason.

Is technology killing the art of music fandom?

A familiar lament, no? Seems us kids are more interested in getting our music for free than having a collection, more bothered about having all our sounds in one place - on our iPods, on our hard drives - than thumbing through CDs in record stores for hours on end, simply wallowing in the joy of being a muso.

Format change has long been an issue in music, and each time the mainstream shifts to accept a new format, the industry and the fans who embrace the change are accused of selling out, and the word 'authenticity' becomes over-used by analysts and fanboy Nazi-types the world over. The difference now, of course, is the migration of music from a physical artefact, namely the compact disc, to a file on a computer.

The imposition of technological advancements of music inevitably raises these concerns but time after time music fandom prevails. The first recordings didn't kill music. Vinyl didn't kill it, cassettes didn't kill it, even home taping didn't kill it. Neither did the CD, and neither will MP3.

My own taste in music means that I have a vested interest in tech's involvement in art, for without tech there would be no electric guitars or microphones, and certainly no Nine Inch Nails. The point here is that music relies on technology. And while fans constantly quake at the thought of authenticity dusting itself off and leaving the building, it doesn't happen. Tech creates new authenticities through originality and innovation, themselves surely facets of the very notion of 'authentic'.

So what of MP3? It's great to have the choice, of that there is no doubt. Its ability to put our music collections in our pockets (Apple's words, not mine) is stunningly convenient, and I for one go nowhere sans earphones. But I firmly believe that while convenience is becoming the order of the day, some sort of physical artefact will always remain. iTunes will not rule the world, and whether albums in the future are sold on disc, chip, coin - whatever - some physicality will remain. Music fans will make sure of it, because despite the wonders of tech, we still go out and buy the stuff and, as we all know, sales make the world go round.