Using Chatroulette For the Powers Of Good...

That title may seem a tad anachronistic, but that's exactly what Merton, a self-taught pianist is doing. Cut through the cock and the weirdos and you'll find this jolly musical chap plink-plonking away in real time. To my shame I only discovered him yesterday and he only has one compilation video up. He's impressive, I'll give him that and he's seems to have broken the 'ones that scar people for life are the best ones' Chatrt mentality.

To see him improvising a song for each stranger that he's connected to is remarkable. Playing away like a mad internet Jermaine Clement, he makes canny observations about them a improvises songs from nothing. He's become a Twitter sensation and the video's gone viral - this could well be the beginning of a new internet meme and I for one would like to see more improvisational music there. Who knows what would have happened when I faced off with cat-stroking Bond villain had I had my trusty guitar in my hand (probably nothing, I imagine I still would have chickened out).

Anyway, this is another short one, I'm afraid. Largely because of an unholy trinity of me having new projects to work on (update in Thursday's weekly TYSIC section), not a great deal happening in the world and the Indian Premier League being shown for free on Youtube. There appears to be a big delay on the stream, but I'm getting sucked in nonetheless. Robin Uthappa just made an astonishingly quick 50, hacking away like an Indian Garry Sobers (resisting urge to make a 'holy slogging, Bat-man!' joke), before promptly getting out. "Those who burn twice as bright, burn for half as long" and so on and so forth...

Self-Sex, Lies and Videotape: The Chatroulette Story

Ok, I'll come out and say it: on the face of it, webcam wankery website Chatroulette makes The 120 Days of Sodom by the Marquis de Sade look like a tasteful study of uptight, prudish types. It connects you to a stranger via webcam and allows you to have a conversation, many of which would appear to consist of "Oh my God, stop doing that! Next! Next!" as you frantically scramble for the F9 key to skip yet another masturbating sexual deviant.

I first became aware of this new phenomenon when my Twitter accomplices began mentioning it and I duly sought out some information about this unusual venture. Being me, I searched the Guardian website, which fortunately had a fair few articles and editorials about this craziness. One showcased a film by New Yorker Casey Neistat which takes an amusing look at the facts and figures surrounding Chatroulette. Another by respected columnist Zoe Williams about venturing innocently onto the site and being shocked at the depravity of the average internet user. Needless to say you can only learn so much by reading, so I decided, in true Jon Ronson style to take the plunge and see for myself. Going in alone with chances of being severely mentally scarred, I decided to see what this seedy website would hold for a cynical blogger. I'm basically Donal MacIntyre.

Faced with the now infamous two cam box interface I hesitated for a second, wondering just what awaited me on the other side. I composed myself and clicked 'New Game' (rather disturbing that the site's creator opted to call a conversation a 'game'...) and got ready to face the strangers. Out of a brief straw poll of 10, I encountered 2 wankers (1 more cleverly concealed than the other), 4 midriffs (because faces are yesterday's news), 3 basically normal (ahem) people just looking for a chat and this man:

He certainly wins the award for most entertaining stranger I encountered. I wish more of the Chatrouletters chose to stroke a cat instead of something else. He glanced at his TV occasionally, while keeping a tight grip on the cat. "Hello." He said. "Nice cat." I replied. "Thanks." He glanced at the TV again. There was a pause that seemed to last an eternity and, faced with the unsettling grin of this cat-toting, Bond villian-esque stranger, I nexted.

I have to say that the wankers didn't seem very committed. As soon as they're faced with a man they invariably skip within a nanosecond. The more interesting strangers were the normal guys, the non-sexual deviants: along with Bond villain, I also found Hatman, who just wanted a friendly chat, two Jewish men arguing in their kitchen (sadly I wasn't quick enough with the print-screen on that one) and one girl who was more interested in finding her best side for the webcam than dodging weirdos.

Chatroulette owes a debt of gratitude to last year’s flavour of the month Omegle, which carried the marvelously optimistic slogan ‘talk to strangers!’. Despite being a predecessor of Chatroulette, Omegle has one distinct advantage over its webcam-based competitor – On Omegle you can take people’s word for it that they’re having a wank, you don’t have to see it with your own eyes.

It has provided a huge amount of scope for internet japery and some are very clever and funny indeed. Similarly the greatest riposte I have seen to it has to be this marvellously droll domain name. Naturally some people abuse its powers, but others use it for creating mirth and merriment and that is surely to be admired.

Chatroulette has, as one might imagine, been compared to Russian Roulette (presumably in the sense that even if you survive, you’ll be so traumatized that suicide is still the only option). Opinions about the service vary from the classic "awful, depraved etc." to more mixed feelings. "There is something magical about Chatroulette if you can ignore all the masturbators and the rest," reflected Neistat, who shot a video chronicling his experiences on the site. Pretty big ‘if’ there. Any ‘if’ that’s followed by ‘you can ignore all the masturbators’ probably isn’t worth paying much heed to.

That said, there was something about Bond villain and Hatman, a certain humility to them. They were genuine. They weren't perverts, they were just lonely chaps looking for a little conversation. There is no doubt that it is a scary service to use and in many ways it is far scarier to be sincere and look for someone to have a friendly conversation with than it is to display yourself to a stranger from crotch downwards. I had no problem handling the deviants and masturbators, many didn't have to stomach to help me with my blog, but when faced with someone who was just looking for conversation, I found it harder to chat. When faced with Bond villain I froze after an opening gambit and I regret that. I wish that I had tried harder at a conversation and seen if I could have plumbed the depths of this website and got into the mentality of the normal user, because past the surface of wankers there are sincere, friendly people, half a world away or maybe just down the street, who just want a chat.