Mum's mobile was the most immoblie cell phone in the world. It often lived on the top of the bookshelf closest to the front door. It was there so she'd see it before she left the house. The trouble was, Mum was alwayd leaving the house in a mad rush and the mobile stayed put.

...a fissure appeared. Splinters of plastic broke away around it, and the fissure widened, radiating further fractures.

When the first leg broke out, Simon tried to shriek.

You know, a cell phone's like a guy; if you don't plug him in every night, charge him good, you got nothing at all.

Every scrape, site, range and page; every game, download, hack, song, movie and virrie on the Web. Everything on your phone. Everything on your 'puta. Even the content directories of your cupboards. Almost every system has been brute-forced; passwords cracked, firewalls breached. Nothing has been left untouched.

The uptake on mobile phones in Africa is phenomenal.

Mobile phones ... they're not for communicating, they're for broadcasting. Broadcasting The Show Of Me.