Gabriel Iglesias. Felicia Day. Coco Rocha. Ashley Tisdale. Paris Hilton. Tyra Banks. Six people Google+ thinks that I might know. Amazon suggests that I might try the Jack Reacher detective series on my Kindle. I am connected in so many ways that I didn’t know I wanted to be. I buy a book, the book seller tries to second guess my likes. I G+ something and Google feels free to promote some vacuous minor American celebrities in my direction. I look at a clothing website and adverts appear for the items I’ve browsed the next time I look at my online newspaper of choice. And Facebook wants to sell my soul while making an Instagram picture of it. Seemingly parallel lines converge to a vanishing point. Like an Eastern European in the grip of the Stasi, I am uncomfortable with my compliance. If I broke free of my online life, if we all did, would we/I cease to exist? Without Gabriel Iglesias, Felicia Day, Coco Rocha, Ashley Tisdale, Paris Hilton and Tyra Banks in my circles, then who am I? I am a woman prejudiced against the Jack Reacher books because Tom Cruise plays him in a film, that’s who.