I was tangentially involved in this - I was the one actually holding the iSight in front of the television screen (see how nice and steady I kept it!) and yelling along with Jeremy every time Portugal scored - and I must say it was a pretty funny use of technology. Almost as good as this.

And a damn fine game it was, too, I must say. I know, I know - that’ll get me burned for heresy around these parts, but really: if I had had to put up with any more football cretins pouring out of the pubs here and loping up and down the streets, chanting their stupid chants and waving their flags and beating their chests and being generally loud and drunk and obnoxious, then I think I would have lost it. As it is, England is out of the tournament, and the streets of Brighton are silent and empty. Heavenly.

Of course, if this is anything to go by, Lisbon could be going up in flames about now…