FAT KID'S STAR WHORE TRIUMPH

Bullied fat kid and Star Wars geek Ghyslian Raza has beaten Paris "I like to think I wouldn't, but I probably would" Hilton, for the title of most famous viral star (viral as in internet, not STD's ... well not in Ghyslian's case anyway).

Young Master Raza (yes, that is his real name, not his self-titled Jedi monica), has been downloaded swinging a rod like a lightsabre more than 900 million times since bullies posted his secret homemade film on the net in 2003. That's more than twice as many downloads as One Night In Paris, in which the Hilton Hotel heiress knobs a rich suitor (or should that be client?) while being filmed through night goggles. Classy.

Surely we're only months away from some internet entrpreneur creating the ultimate marriage of our download Kind and Queen: "First Night In Paris: Fat Kid Pops Cherry". The viral film you never wanted to see but couldn't help taking a peek. Embrace it. It's the future.

TINKER, TAILOR, SOLDIER, SKY (news)

As London wakes to the news that former Russian spy Alexander Litvinenko has died, the media body count has only just begun.

For over a week Litvinenko proved a formidable opponent for the Russian Government, fighting a battle in the land that timezones forgot ... the desperate world of round the clock, tv, print, radio, web and commuter news.

Conducted from his hospital bed, Litvinenko and comrades executed a powerful PR offensive which now threatens to derail the formerly close diplomatic relations between the world's global governments and President Vladimir Putin’s Russian regime.

Litvinenko has long been a vocal opponent of Putin’s leadership, and while the President’s press men dubbed any suggestion of their boss's involvement in his death as "clearly mad", the world's media - eager to take the helm as Hollywood directors of their own real-life spy caper - have smelt high profile political blood, a crisis at the very heart of the Russian government and, most importantly, rising viewing figures.

By embracing the modern media and drip-feeding them every peak and trough of his health, every spit and cough of his shady CV, shrewd Litvinenko used his last few days to torture Putin in the most public way. The former Soviet spy and his friend Alex Goldfarb, encouraged daily media updates, gave access to the hospital bed and supplied press with images. It was a slick and simple PR attack which resulted in round the clock coverage for Litvinenko and a barrage of embarrasment for the Russian government, who in the eyes of many, are guilty by implication.

For over a week now we've been spoonfed every gruesome detail, not only of his slow and shocking demise, but of tales of the sinister Soviet Secret Service, a ruthless Russian government, and Litvinenko’s public and private power-struggles with arch enemy and furry cat stroking President Putin. Yes, its the Russian Premier who, guilty or not, is the villain of this media pantomime. As cinemas across the world revel in a wave of Bond-mania, Putin is our real-life Blofeld, our Goldfinger, our SPECTRE. Far from being positioned as a legitimate global leader, switch on your TV and you'll be reminded that he was, in a previous life, Head of the KGB for 15 years - a grisly business that isn't for the likes of a coiffered, toothy-grinned baby-kissing PM.

Whatever the outcome of Scotland Yard's investigation - if there ever is an outcome - Litvinenko has succesfully used his protracted death rattle to deliver a blow at the heart of the leadership he has come to hate. It’s unlikely that blow will prove fatal, but it will undoubtedly ignite an uncomfortable media autopsy in which the rib cage of Russia's shady government underworld will be cracked open, pawed over and disected in the coming weeks.

SPACE BALLS: WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BE-FORE

Last night (Earth time GMT), Cosmonaut Mikhail Tyurin teed off for the first game of world record breaking, intergalactic golf

Clearly lonely and bored, the spaceman whacked the ball into orbit around our planet from the International spacestation Mir. It is now expected to travel a billion kilometers around the earth, sending the Russian straight into the record books as the man who hit the longest golf drive ever.

But the 45-year-old Russian's feat won't be officially recoginsed by Guiness officials for some time. Experts estimate it will take three-and-a-half years for the ball to complete its journey before plunging back to Earth.

By my calculations, that means the intergalactic hole-in-one will occur on 22nd of may 2010. Mark it in your calendar now: Wear tin hat.

RINGS LEADERS TELL JACKSON TO "HOBBIT"

Bad news Baginses - hairy film wizard Peter Jackson will not be involved in New Line Cinema's Lord of the Rings "prequel", The Hobbit.

The man who, against all odds, made three of the geekiest things cool (they be elves, orcs and New Zealand), is embroiled in a major money wrangle with New Line.

But while the multimillionaire Jackson battles it out with multimillionaire movie moguls at New Line, its us - the movie-going public - who'll be hit hardest. I've suffered at the hands of prequels before and I fear history may be repeating itself just once more.

BOND FROZEN OUT BY TAP DANCING PENGUIN

Its a sad day when a cartoon penguin keeps James Bond off the top spot, but hey that's the world we live in.

Yes, its official. Mumble - the Lionel Blair of the penguin world, and star of CGI film "Happy Feet" (voiced by Elijah Wood) - has beaten Bond to take top spot in their joint American cinema opening weekend.

But Daniel Craig can take some comfort in the knowledge that Casino Royale made over 25% more than his predecessors most succesful film, Die Another Day (13m pounds and 9.1m pounds respectively). That said, he's still got a long way to beat the most succesful Bond film of all time - Thunderball - which has raked in well over 400million pounds since launch.

Facts. You love 'em - The Daily Geek's got 'em.

SMOKE RING THREATENS TO CHOKE "YOU TUBE"

With laws tightening around what you can advertise to whom, where you can advertise it and when, the accusation that tobacco companies are using You Tube as a subversive way to pitch their products to youngsters should come as no surprise.

But the idea that booze and butts companies will be using You Tube and other UGC sites to glamourise their products 'under the radar' could open up a world of pain for owners Google (who are already under pressure to legitimise their new purchase by ensuring each and every submission falls on the right side of copyright laws).

Sydney University professor Simon Chapman says that in order to attract youngsters to the habit, tobacco giants have posted videos on the site showing attractive women smoking. Cigarette companies have denied the claims. I've pasted two links below. Take a look.

Four girls each smoking two cigarettes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5ZIJikVqmQ

Lilly and Natalya smoking 2 cigarettes at once
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iYvh6kSYBE&mode=related&search=

Kind of random. Kind of bizarre. But isn't that why You Tube's so attractive? It's a diffficult claim to prove.

Nevertheless, todays accusations have got You Tube downloaders questioning the validity of some of the site's most famous uploads. Take the guys who performed the playground science experiment with a bottle of Coke and a pack of Mentos. Who are we to say they're not the Mentos marketing boys masquerading as You Tube Yoof? And what about the TV celeb and the labrador ... no, sorry, that's another site ... you see, You Tube already has a taste and decency policy (only now it tastes of stale fags).

Regardless of whether you're with Prof. Chapman or whether you think he's smoking something, there's no doubt that as traditional marketing mediums fall victim to the 21st century digital revolution, You Tube and similar sites are becoming the battleground for the hearts and minds of the connected generation.

But if the viral vultures get too heavily engaged with You Tube, it's in danger of becoming nothing more than a site for navel-gazing marketeers, pulling off statistics about the number of hits their latest black ops campaign has achieved. Little do they realise that the only people left accessing their films are the marketing teams of the competition ... the smart kids have left the building .

BROCOLLI BOND GAMBLE PAYS OFF ... bet Brosnan's Pierced off

As every review you’ve read has already told you, Casino Royale is a triumphant addition to the Bond cannon, and full marks must go to the franchise-owners for risking it all and messing with the tried and tested formula.

When you see how Bond has regained his cool, it’s easy to think this new style was clearly a dead cert winner. But a lot can go wrong between the first draft of a script and the Royal Premier. In fact, making changes to the MI6 money-spinner was a huge gamble – a real-life high-stakes poker game that changed the rules on a format that on its last outing successfully raked in hundreds of millions of pounds. Get it right and you’re quids in, but back the wrong horse and it’s the glue factory for you.

They’ve removed everything that made Bond formulaic and safe. No puns, not a whiff of the signature tune until the closing credits and a new dark Bond. Where his predecessors moisturised, he bleeds. Suffice to say, the gamble has paid off.

But if there’s one man who won’t be popping the champagne, its former double-o Pierce Brosnan, the man Daniel Craig usurped as Bond. Brosnan had been asking Barbara Brocolli and the Bond team to serve him up exactly this kind of script, action and realism ever since his second Bond outing “Tomorrow Never Dies” was committed to film. He struck gold with Goldeneye, but it was downhill from there, culminating in the school pantomime that was “Die Another Day”. Invisible cars, cyber-suits, celebrity cameos and a punnett of puns that made it feel more like a “Carry On” film than Bond.

James Bond had become Austin Powers’ embarrassing uncle. Once, women wanted him and men wanted to be him. By the end of Brosnan’s reign, the women it the audience wanted him to go away and leave them alone, and men shuffled uncomfortably in their seats as they watched their schoolboy hero reduced to a cartoon effigy.

But Brosnan had spied this well before he was given the boot, and made it clear (both publicly and privately) that he saw the need for Bond to go darker, get real and remove the more comic elements that had become so ingrained in the character’s DNA over the last 40 years. And what did he get for his efforts? Fired. His double-o status rescinded. That’s Hollywood for you – more victims than an MI6 hit-squad.

So spare a thought for Brosnan as you watch his successor lap up the praise. He was a key part in the resurrection of the movie industry’s favourite son - the architect of new Bond. But whereas Craig’s been given dynamite to play with, Brosnan was given blancmange.

LOST WITHOUT LOST: Logs one and two

Just five days ago, I vowed to avenge Sky’s cruel Lost heist. The plan was akin to a written form of Chinese water torture. Every Sunday, I would document what I – a non-Sky subscriber – am doing as Lost Season Three plays out on their lead channel, then force feed this potentially VERY dull information to them via email. Maybe, once they see the true pain their greed has caused, they will relent.

And so, dear reader, I deliver the first entry from my log of despair in a world of mere freeview television where Lost has no home...

#1: Begrudgingly watched Torchwood. Got bored seven minutes in. Realised I’d left my phone in the car. Popped out to retrieve it. It was windy. Got back inside and put on Match of the Day 2. Wigan v Villa. No score draw. According to the Radio Times, “Jack, Kate and Sawyer find out what it's like to be in captivity, while Sun, Jin and Sayid build a big fire.” Crikey sounds about as exciting as my Sunday night. Maybe I'm not missing much after all?

It’s a double bill this week, so …

#2: Match of the Day 2 has ended. Consider having a bath (it’s been a while and could add a bit of excitement to proceedings). But no, decide to postpone until morning. Time for bed. Meanwhile on the island, according to the Radio Times, “Sun and Jin's lives are endangered when Sayid tries to locate Jack and the other missing castaways. Henry makes Jack a tempting offer in exchange for his cooperation. Kate and Sawyer must adjust to harsh conditions”. What harsh conditions? Has a freak hail storm hit the island? Will Locke made a scalf out of large furry leaves? Anyone?

I BAPTISE YOU IN THE NAME OF THE FAMOUS, THE SHAMELESS AND THE HOLY GOBLIN

Web site www.findmypast.com has revealed new data that adds weight to the argument that parenthood should be something you apply for having undergone a series of intelligence tests.

Apparently two sets of parents were so taken with Sir Ian McKellen's perfomance in the Lord of the Rings trilogy that they've named their kids "Gandalf". Two other couples have called their little boys "Superman". Britain also boasts a fistful of Dido's, a small arsenal of Arsenal's and over 400 (count em), "Dre's" named after the doctor rapper (is he a trained medic? I think we should be told).

Where has this trend for naming kids like pets come from? Answers please in the comment box below (along with any other tales of crazy kid names).

JEDI DECLARE HOLY WAR ON THE UN

While many may pour scorn, mock and in some cases laugh directly in the faces of Umada and Yunyun (also known as John Wilkinson and Charlotte Law) for their battle with the UN to get “Jedi” registered as an officially recognised religion, I say titter ye not.

The two Brits are campaigning on behalf of the 400,000 “believers” who submitted Jedi as their religious denomination during the recent census of the UK population. They claim that this figure makes Jedi the fourth most popular religion in the country, ahead of Sikhism, Judaism and Buddhism. There are also 70,000 Jedi Knights in Australia, 53,000 in New Zealand and 20,000 in Canada.

Having studied biblical texts as well as the history of storytelling, myths and legends, I can tell you that there’s not much to separate the validity of the parables of the bible and the intergalactic tales of the Republic - a battle of good and evil, lots of sand, much beard action.

The old and new testament can no longer be classed as documentation of historical truths. Initially passed down by word of mouth for decades (or in the old testaments case, centuries) before finally being committed to papyrus, the texts have been chopped, changed, chunks removed, chunks added, words altered, heroes vilified and villains haloed - all depending on who controlled the publication and distribution of the good book ... pretty similar to the process of drafting and editing a movie script. And just as church and state have tinkered with biblical texts to ensure they fit their own agenda, so Lucas continues to fiddle with his once great films depending on which side of bed he gets out of in the morning.

This doesn't make the central message of the bible "love one another as you'd want to be loved yourself” any less relevant or insightful, but equally it doesn't make those who believe there's a mysterious central force “that surrounds us, guides us and binds the universe together" (or whatever) completely barking.

Anyway, in a world where religion causes more conflict, anger and aggression than a Hoth Wampa in a sauna, following the innocent worlds of a chilled-out techno-hippy can surely be no bad thing.

MICHAEL JACKSON: A CLARIFICATION

While searching for pictures of Michael “the face, the face, I’m melting” Jackson, I uncovered the following.

Type Michael Jackson in to Google UK and the first link that presents itself is not that of Michael Jackson King of Pop, but Michael Jackson the Software consultant. Helpfully, Mr Jackson clarifies his occupation upfront, avoiding any potential confusion. The site says: “Michael Jackson (not the singer) - Consultancy & Research in Software Development”.
Thank god he made that clear. I mean, look at the picture above. It could have got confusing.

Most importantly, I'd like to know how the hell he got first dibs on the Google links hierachy! Anyone?

JORDAN GETS STROPPY AS JACKO REFUSES TO GET HIS HITS OUT

A number of readers (well, one) have asked The Daily Geek why the story on the lips of every man woman and child hasn't made it onto the blog - namely Michael Jackson's woefully poor performance at the World Music Awards, his first UK appearance in nine years.

To be honest it's slightly outside the remit of The Daily Geek's cool tech and cult media agenda ... I mean if I run this story, what next? Paris Hilton's midnight hotel dash? A David Gest jungle dance? Eric "bully" Bristow speared by mechanical darts? (actually, I probably would write about that one). Anyway, at a squeeze, I guess jacko's reconstructed but slowly melting waxface could pass for weird science. So here we go...

Having attracted a crowd the size of Portsmouth, Freak of Pop Michael Jackson went on to p*ss the hopes of his deranged fanbase up the wall by not performing Thriller as they had been expecting. Instead he squeaked out five lines from his god-awful 'We Are The World' - the hit that not only confirmed the death of popular music, but built, sealed and buried the coffin.

Crackpot Jackson was said to be so poor that even the worshipers turned. One distraught fan said: "He's had 9 years to rehearse this, so you'd think he'd have got it right." Pity the fool. Was he not aware that for the past decade the jackal had been busy plying young boys with booze?

The night was complete when the Sultan of Brunei ... Sorry King Hussein of Jordan ... er, scratch that, my misake ... just Jordan, space hoppers n'all, had a pop at Jacksie. Speaking from her position of newly gained pop authority, she said: "It was rubbish. He sounded well out of tune." Last orders Jacko - when Jordan's on the button you know it's time to quit this Earth and rejoin your people.

CHANNEL FOUR LAUNCHES 21st CENTURY TV

Next month, Channel 4 will become the first broadcaster in the world to put all shows from its current TV schedule on-line for viewers to download.

While the BBC has been plugging internet viewing for about a year with niche programmes such as The Mighty Boosh previewed on the net a week before the TV show airs, Channel 4 are the first to fully unlock their doors and allow access to current shows alongside a selection of its 24-year-old archive.

All new shows will continue to be aired on TV first, but will immediately be available for download at just 99p from the “Four on Demand” service. Film Four movies will be available to download for £1.99.

It signals the beginning of the end of TV consumption as we know it. With the likes of Four on Demand and SKY+, alongside last year’s mobile TV breakthrough and this year’s advent of advertising on mobiles (hugely attractive to advertisers due to the fact that, unlike your TV, your phone is always with you), it’s programming Jim, but not as we’ve known it. Bring it on.

But while they're innovating technically, Channel 4 have been severely critisised by former founder Sir Jeremy Isaacs over the content of its programming. Sir Jez, who ran the channel from its launch in 1982 until 1987 - arguably its most groundbreaking, culturally defining period - has got a problem with recent programmes such as:

1. The World's Largest Penis (my review: demoralising)

2. Designer Vaginas (my review: demotivating)

3. The upcoming - I swear, no pun intended - W*nk Week (my review: to my knowledge it hasn't aired yet, but I honestly can't see how they're going to fill seven days of programming on shandy's. That said, you've got to give them a firm hand shake for trying)

But hang on Jezza. You're taking issue with the current controllers of C4 because they're showing too much mucky stuff? I thought dirty programmes masquerading as academia was part of Channel 4's viewers charter! For as long as I can remember, C4 has served up a staple diet of swingers, bondage, suburban sexual freakshows and a plethora (love that word - sounds filthy even though it's as innocent as "omnibus") of other eye-popping sub-porn programmes (prime example: last months "The Real Blue Nuns" about 'Nunsploitation' movies ... a far more rivetting tale of extra-curricular religious studies when compared to the content of the 1992 GCSE syllabus). Anyhow, apparently it's good to take a peak behind the curtains of depravity once in a while. And now you can take that peak on your laptop for just 99p a pop.

SONY PS3: JAP TRAMP TREND FUELLED BY EURO DEMAND

Sony bosses in Japan are said to be “uncomfortable” about the trend in vagrant stooges being paid to stand in line for hours on end in the hope of snapping up the eagerly awaited PS3 console.

Unscrupulous Internet exporters are paying tramps up to £100 to snap-up on one of the 80,000 units currently available (or, by the time you’re reading this, now sold out) in Japan. The consoles are then flogged on-line for up to £1,000 per unit to PlayStation nuts, desperate to get their hands on the latest generation of Sony’s brilliant game behemoth. But it’s a no-win no-fee set up for the Japanese stand-ins and there are very limited supplies of the units themselves. That means hundreds of homeless are queuing for hours on end only to end up with no PS3 and not a Yen for their efforts.

But the business of paying bodies to grapple for must-have-toys from one-per-customer stores is nothing new. It was employed by the very same dealers for Nintendo’s launch of the DS and Sony’s PSP shout last year.

In this case, Sony’s bigger problem is where these units are ending up. Namely in the hands of eager, but potentially disappointed, customers in Europe. Thing is, while the Japanese versions are multi-region, they don't play European PS1 or PS2 games. A nasty surprise for those eager beavers who just can’t wait until Spring 2007 for their official country launch.

"FOUND" pictures for our American friend...

... and for anyone else who hasn't seen it

LOST: Dharma You, Sky One

While it’s infuriating that Lost was robbed from C4 by Sky, the real blow for me was to see just how brilliantly Sky marketed their victory while at the same time selling the new series to existing and potential viewers. I’m assuming that those of you who haven’t seen the new billboard are either infirm or too busy watching re-runs of the first two seasons on your iPod as you walk to work (watch out for that lamp post … what lamp post … BANG). Like all the best marketing it’s simple, direct and no matter how much I want to throw VHS copies of “Invasion” at it because I am now bereft of one of my favourite shows, I don’t - it’s damn clever. The dark blue, green and black Lost colouring, the bold Lost font and just one word. FOUND. Okay, it says “on Sky One” underneath it, but hey, who’s counting?

Nevertheless, while I admire the Sky marketing team for the great job of sticking their fingers up at rivals Channel 4 and, no doubt, getting the Great British public to sign up and tune in, I for one shall be doing no such thing. About two years ago, I got rid of Sky. Great programming I grant you, but once Freeview came along, pretty pricey. For me, it’s a luxury product (though if Murdoch’s content buyers team keep pulling off master strokes like this, it’s in danger of becoming a necessity).

The tragedy now faced by non-Sky subscribing Lost fans has been well documented on blogs, websites, nataional newspaper letters pages and so on. Wednesday night double-bills on C4 and E4 were something to get excited about. I had the opportunity to Limewire it like anyone else, but refused, opting instead to watch it in like we were still twentieth century boys (and girls) – on TV, with the family, a community event (like the Silver Jubilee, but on a weekly basis and without the cake … not like the Silver Jubilee at all, now I come to think about it). At least ten minutes on Thursday mornings were devoted to “oh my god, did you see Lost” conversations with friends at work. Now, those moments are Lost (sorry, got this far, but couldn’t get through it without one, could I), forever.

Yes, we can buy the DVD when it comes out in the New Year. Yes, we can ask our flash mate with Sky to record it. Yes, we can Limewire it. But it won’t be the same. It won’t be a shared experience that brings like-minded obsessives who care that that shark in the first series had the Dharma Initiative symbol emblazoned on its fin and want to know why.

But I’m not taking this lying down. No siree. To mark my protest, from this Sunday and throughout the entire third series, I shall be keeping a weekly log of exactly what I’m doing when, if the world were a better place, I should be watching Lost. Maybe I’ll be baking a cake. Or ironing a shirt. Maybe a Michael Palin travel documentary will present itself to me on BBC Two. Or maybe, as I expect, I’ll simply be weeping into a pint of warm bitter. We’ll just have to wait and see. Each log will be emailed to Sky as punishment for their misdemeanours (I reckon they have the potential to be quite tedious).

You can catch my “LOST Without It” Logs right here. So long, fellow passengers. So long.

BOWIE IS NEW NOKIA POSTERBOY (well, podcaster)

Tomorrow, Lord David Bowie will be unveiled as the pin-up for Nokia's new music download service "Music Recommenders". The former Goblin King (come on, you can't write about Bowie without SOME kind of reference to Labyrinth - officially the greatest film to have ever graced a £1 DVD bargain bucket) will be backing the service, which allows users to download new music onto their computers and transfer them to their mobiles. He'll be endorsing "Music Recommenders" by posting his very own recommendations (dare he submit The Laughing Gnome ... dare he?) and a podcasting service. Although the Finnish phone giants' songs will cost about 90p - 10p more than iTunes - Nokia will no doubt be using the service to capitalise on its major advantage over Apple ... wireless access.

GROUND CONTROL TO … COLONEL SANDERS?

Greasy poultry peddlers Kentucky Fried Chicken are the latest US fast food company to plop their corporate image slap bang in the middle of, er, our planet.

Having decided that it’s not enough to make human kids fat, the bargain bucket brigade now seem intent on dominating the galactic junk food market, creating an 87,500 square ft image of Colonel "the chin" Sanders that can only be seen from space. So keen on grabbing their slice of the interplanetary ingestion market (or should that be grabbing the headlines?), the Colonel and a 50-strong band of finger-licking goons committed this act of global graffiti on a plot of land close to infamous UFO-spot Area 51 in the Nevada desert. They're hot on the heels of Coca-Cola who made a similar bid for the lucrative "two-heads, three-fingers, lizard-skin, my name is zog" segment earlier in the year by plonking a gigantic "you can see me from the moon" version of their logo on a secluded Chilean plain.

Beware visitors from other worlds. When I was but a boy, my parents wouldn't allow me anywhere near a McDonalds. At the age of 16, with the advent of free-will, I discovered the golden arches. I’m now 30 years old, 17 stone and have a Body Mass Index that places me on the UK obese register. You do the math.

STAR WARS LEGO II on PSP

In 1983, my world was turned upside down by a bearded man with bad glasses and a lumberjack shirt. Two decades later, he broke my heart. No, not Mr Baguley my French teacher, but George Lucas. While the Star Wars saga bought such colour and imagination to so many kids lives in the 70s and 80s, as an adult, with his crazy tinkering and mind-numbingly dull prequels, Lucas destroyed all that. So much so, that I sold my entire collection of Star Wars toys (boxed n’all) in protest. Yeah – that showed him. He’ll rue the day etc. Anyway, while all may not be forgiven, Star Wars Lego II (which was, after a torturous wait, released this week for the PSP) at least brought back the sense of fun and wonder the original films once bestowed. Tell me this - what other game do you open a blast-door expecting a full on Stormtrooper onslaught only to find two of the evil Empire’s army bathing - budgie-smugglers n’all - in a hot tub? Now THERE’s a deleted scene I’d buy a Star Wars DVD for. Smiles, spaceships, sandpeople … and I haven’t even encountered a Wookie yet. You see – life in a binary star system CAN be fun.

ZUNE ARE LANDING

The Zune has finally launched in the US. Behind-the-curve Microsoft have pumped up their PR machine who in turn have managed to get company execs smiling with plenty of “iPod killer” media coverage. But early rumours suggest the one function that really differentiates it – wireless song sharing – is a proper donkey (tricky to use and limited in functionality due to DRM issues). So that just leaves an ugly MP3 player then.

The Zune will retail for £130 and can hold about 7,000 songs. Slightly too pricey for a Christmas stocking filler and limited capacity for the big-spenders who’ve relished the fact that their entire CD collection is available in pocket form, Microsoft’s “iPod killer” is in danger of firing a few blanks before hitting the target.

As always, the big M is taking this assault on a new market very seriously. This week in the States, the multi-million dollar marketing campaigns will sit neatly alongside personal endorsements by stadium-filling rock acts and secret Zune gigs. But the Jukebox Jury is still out on which is better – the Microsoft Marketeers or the Zune itself.

ALIEN POPE QUITS

Nick Pope, Alien Investigator, has quit his role at the Ministry of Defence - and he’s edging dangerously close to becoming the new David “Lizard-Gods” Ike with pronouncements about potential alien invasions of London.

Last week, Pope, 41, walked out of his job as Director of Defence Security. From the sound of it, a big, important job. But just how much respect has the man had within the MOD since “outing” the secrets of the UK’s UFO files during the mid-90s? Surely the halls of the Ministry would have been full of dropped jaws once word had spread and the first editions of his book hit colleagues desks.

From that moment, over 10 years ago, his role as a valued member of the MOD’s inner-circle was compromised. After outing former bosses and alleging cover-ups and Government bluster, just how much more intelligence would the MOD have allowed Pope to have accessed? Over the last decade or so, he’s written four books and numerous articles about the MOD’s attempts to cover up UFO sightings, about close encounters of the third kind and even about alien abductions (a Sunday Times article in 1999 even alleges that Pope himself was abducted and that the character “Peter” from his second book The Uninvited is infact Pope).

Pope has said officials have not done enough to investigate UFO sightings (for what it’s worth, I agree) and because of this have left London exposed to extra-terrestrial attack. He said: “The consequences of getting this one wrong could be huge. Frankly, we’re wide open. If something does not behave like a conventional aircraft now it will be ignored. The ‘X’-Files have been closed.”

So, worryingly, less than a week after leaving the security of his security job, he’s already using fantasy pop-culture signposts when referring to his formerly academic and detailed work. To me, that suggests the only thing about to be invaded is the media, who over the next few months will lap up what he’s got to say – the madder the better - in order to fill column inches. Pope is in danger of becoming water-cooler material on a par with the latest I’m a celebrity non-entity or a triple-breasted Jerry Springer guest. The subject of a new Jon Ronson book. A Louis Theroux interviewee.

If there is a government cover-up regarding aliens and Pope carries on with his alien invasion route (and, as I reckon he will, confirms his personal alien abduction story), the Ministry need not worry – Pope will be making the subject so risible among the British public that he’ll be doing their job for them.

CONSPIRACY ALERT! Maybe that was the plan after all? Maybe we’re being hoodwinked and Pope is in on the gag … add a dash of bonkers to the whole thing and it all seems a lot less credible … just the ticket if you’re angling for the “aliens are landing” cover up. So is Pope an MOD stooge whom the Ministry has “planted” in the public domain to present the image of an open and transparent government body or is he a bespectacled maverick who really did expose alien landings and government black ops, the ministry keeping him on side fearing a PR disaster if they fired him.

REALITH CHECK! My theory? About 15 years ago, when he told his chiefs he was about to write a book about the files locked in cabinet 63, they humoured him. They let him publish his little books and (internally) blocked him out without kicking him out. Now his hand, finally has been forced – the softly softly approach worked. The Ministry played the long game and won, boring Pope into submission and leaving him out of the circle of trust (with regards to 21st century Governmental alien investigations at the very least).

So, the badge of honour he once held is now redundant. Nick Pope is now one of us. No longer an indsider, he’s just an author. And like so many other authors in the run up to Christmas, he’s got books to sell. And the more outrageous the content sounds, the more likely they’re going to fill our stockings. His pronouncements of potential invasion should be taken as nothing more than a publicits dream … or a self-publicists desperation.

BOND DIALS ‘M’ FOR … MONDEO

Rumour has it that the Bond product placement team have gone for a Royal flush in the latest much-lauded outing of everyone’s favourite British murderer. Along with Sony Ericsson, two of the corporates who’ve paid millions to have their products shoe-horned into Casino Royale are The Ford Motor Company and Omega. Earlier this morning, my very own spy – one of London’s top breakfast show DJ’s – told me about a sneak preview of the movie he’d attended earlier in the week. Apparently the film – which, by the way, he says is Connery-esque in its Bond brilliance – includes a line where our hero is asked if his watch is a Rolex. “No,” replies Bond. “Better than that, it’s an Omega.” Cue uncomfortable shifting by the audience. I can only hope he’s pulling my leg, but having taken a squiz at the watchmaker’s website, I fear not. And so to Ford. Not just any Ford, but a Ford Mondeo. The 5-door 2007 Ford Mondeo. The car of choice for Britain’s Mr Motorway. Ford are using the film as a shop window to show off their new model to the millions of road-warrior Bond wanabees who already bomb up and down the M4 daydreaming about their fantasy double-life as a double-0. I fear this will only encourage the salesman of Slough to dub their PA’s Moneypenny and give them a licence to believe there’s a mini-mounted rocket launcher in their boot rather than a puncture repair kit and map of Berkshire. Tragically, the Mondeo is the first motor Daniel Craig drives as Bond, though don’t worry, he soon steps into a more-familiar Aston. No doubt our blonde Bond had the same problems with Ford as me and decided, as I did, to ditch it for a classier car. In 2004, I bought a Ford Focus C-Max for the family and it was nothing but trouble. What started as small niggles culminated in the engine cutting out while doing 70 on the motorway. Despite it not being even a third of the way through its three-year warranty, Ford refused to replace it. We got rid of it within just over a year and swapped it for a Volvo XC90. Much tastier, and much more adept at losing eye-patched megalomaniacs during those high-octane weekend chases across the Swiss Alps.