After Kipling.

I just set the alarm on my little mobile phone which cost all of £15.99 from Tesco, and which I feed with about £5-a-year's worth of credits. That's because I hardly ever use it except to reply to the odd text from the one person who sends them to me.

You're supposed to feel guilty these days if your phone fits easily into the pocket of your jeans and doesn't have the power to read Facebook posts from Alpha Centauri, aren't you? Am I? A little ditty jumped onto my desk and said 'post me.' So I'll do that instead of wasting money on a megaG smart phone. I'm sure the sweet chariot will still swing low to carry me home when it's time.

If I bought myself a smart phone

Would I be a different bloke?

Would I be somehow superior

If I learned to stroke and poke?

Or would I lose the lessons

That I learn from twilight skies

And the hint of deepest meaning

In a Chinese lady’s eyes?

I suspect I’d be a martyr

To the ways of modern times

And the path laid out by robots

And the hill up which it climbs

So I think I’ll stick with wand’ring

Down the road to Mandalay

Taking refuge in my ramblings

And the view across the bay