Children of the (Facebook) revolution

Warning to those of a sensitive nature, those in denial about the youth of today, or those likely to think that the behaviour of one or two teenagers equates to the behaviour and/or deepest desires of all young people, globally: clicking on the image to the left to embiggen it may seriously damage your health.

For all others: Oh. Emm. Gee. This is horrific and hilarious on so many levels. There is a full description of the scenario if you scroll down to below the scanned bit of paper, but to explain in brief: some girl ratted on her brother to their parents, and they grounded him. Desperate for revenge, he was going through her room and found a list she'd written of all the boys she knew and what she wanted to do with them. He posted the list on Facebook, and everyone in her school (and now millions of others) have seen it, singlehandedly making me thankful to be an only child. NOT THAT I HAVE EVER WRITTEN A LIST LIKE THIS and yes, the girl seems deeply unpleasant and in need of a bit of ego-crushing / life-lesson-learning, but wow. Not sure anyone deserves that intensity of humiliation when they're still at such a formative age. Could their relationship ever recover from this? Shudder. Laugh. Shudder.

I have just returned from a 40 minute run with Laura when I felt like someone had filled my lungs up with treacle. It was a lot harder than the 10k I did in 2008. It's so weird when that happens, isn't it? I ran along the Southbank for 45 mins on Monday and it was absolutely fine, then did 45 mins of cardio in the gym yesterday and quite enjoyed it, and then today I almost had a hernia on Southwark Bridge and had to stop outside M&S on Old Broad Street because I had a stitch. Sooooooooo cool. I am still in shock now. Yoga tomorrow, methinks.

Last night was a cultural highpoint. I went to see a modern reworking of Moliere's The Misanthrope on Panton Street and it was absolutely fantastic. I was totally prepared to hate it because it was a) in the West End and b) had celebrity cast members (Damian Lewis and Keira Knightley) but I was hooked from curtain up. The script, echoing the original, rhymed. Throughout. This was brilliant because it forced the audience to really, really listen - as a consequence, it was one of the quietest congregations I've ever enjoyed. It was also brilliant because it was massively clever - two hours of rhyming isn't easy, whatever the topic, but when it's also satirical, topical and believable, it's a huge technical and linguistic achievement. Most of the way through I sat there fuming that I hadn't done it first, but ten percent of the time I had to concede that it was way beyond my abilities. I got the jokes, sure, but I don't think I could have thought of them in the first place. Maybe in a few years... It's the first time I've ever left a play and bought the script in the foyer. In fact, the last time I bought anything in a foyer was the twin cassette of Starlight Express in the mid-eighties and I'm pretty sure my parents will have paid for that.

I suppose it resonated because, in some ways, the play's central premise is so close to what I battle with a lot - whether one should be open-minded and forgiving of humanity's failings or rail against them and fight for the right to be different. In the same way that the planetary YouTube clip I posted the other night made me feel tiny, culture like that makes me feel pleasingly irrelevant: people have been worrying about this stuff since the 17th century and they'll be worrying about it long after I'm gone. I'll do my best, bumble along, and eventually I'll feed the worms. Nice.

It wasn't just the script that was wowing, though. Damian Lewis was good, as expected, but Keira was a revelation. I really like her and think she's absolutely gorgeous, so I'm possibly not the most objective viewer, but her portrayal of a whining American superstar was confident, utterly convincing and, at times, very moving. She gave me goosebumps and I send her props. Also, if she's reading, I'd really like that black dress from the final scene in my size. Any way you can help? Thanx.

After the play, I went home and watched Celebrity Big Brother, which sadly grinds to an end this weekend. Last night's episode was absolutely fantastic and I was grinning compulsively as Alex Reid was covered in spray tan. Brilliant entertainment, a blast of MSG escapism, and anyone who's snobbish about reality TV knows where they can shove their superiority complex. Byeeeeeee.