If any of these people come knocking at your door in the next few weeks, you might want to cut this out and wave it at them accusingly.

The information is taken from Hansard here.

• You’ve not seen any actual corn flakes with the logo on, have you? All you’ve got is a JPEG that’s been knocked up in Photoshop and no real idea whether the technical gobbledygook Kellogg’s mentions makes any sense
• Kellogg’s makes 67m packets of Corn Flakes each year, with 2.7bn bowls consumed annually in the UK (according to Kellogg’s). How the hell are they going to burn each of those tens of billions of corn flakes with a frigging laser while keeping costs and production levels constant?
• There’s no incentive for Kellogg’s to do it. They constantly say they don’t supply cereals to anyone else, so how could their corn flakes be mistaken for another brand’s? Unless someone is inserting “fake” own brand corn flakes into a Kellogg’s box (which they’re not)

I guess I might be perceived as humourless for complaining about what is, admittedly, quite a witty joke that ties in cleverly with an ongoing PR strategy blah, blah, blah. But actually, isn’t it a bit worrying that newspapers will willingly publish an April Fool’s gag as fact in the middle of October? Is the internet to blame for this? Whether or not something is even vaguely plausible seems to take a back seat to how many hits it generates on the (Telegraph) website.

In another triumph for Flat Earth News, it’s been revealed that a bunch of filmmakers have been planting made up stories about celebrities in the papers in a successful attempt to prove that the tabloids will print any celebrity-related rubbish without bothering to check whether or not it’s true. Consequently, the Daily Express reported that Russell Brand wanted to be a banker and had a Fisher Price cash register as a child, while the Mirror, the Star and the Times of India went for a story about Amy Winehouse’s hair catching on fire. Both stories are wholly untrue.

Meanwhile, it’s been reported today that Kirstie Allsop might be getting a Tory peerage. Unfortunately, there’s every reason to suggest this particular slice of implausibility may actually be true.

Say I want to get a new iPod Nano or run Adobe Air (for applications like Twhirl and AlertThingy) on my Mac, I’m going to have to spend eighty-odd quid updating to OS X 10.5 – even though I already have OS X 10.3.9, which was introduced in 2005.

However, both the new iPod Nano and Adobe Air will run on a PC with Windows XP, which was introduced way back in 2001 with subsequent free Service Pack updates.

As a Mac user, it makes you feel a bit ripped off. The other annoying thing is that OS X 10.5 takes up 9GB of hard disk space. 9GB! So even if I wanted to upgrade, I’d be left with virtually no free space on my five-year-old iBook G4.

What I could do is put that eighty quid towards the cost of a shiny new Windows laptop with 250GB of hard disk space and sell the iBook (at a no doubt inflated price) on eBay to make up the shortfall.

Sacrilege. I know.

This is the magazine for people who own Nespresso coffee machines. It attempts to portray Nespresso as a lifestyle choice for only the world’s most upmarket and discerning coffee drinkers. (Which, of course, it isn’t. As Brooker points out, it’s actually the choice of people who want to make an espresso without “getting grit all over the sideboard”.)

Brooker counts 281 images of “coffee pods” within the magazine, which he describes as “the by-product of an entire industry peopled exclusively by desperate, snivelling lunatics”. He’s referring to the marketing people, rather than pod-based coffee manufacturers, I fear.

Is bringing the iPod out of your pocket in order to turn the volume up and down really a major problem for car salesmen, insurance clerks and others who wear M&S suits on a daily basis? Why would you want wires inside your suit? The suit also contains lycra. Lycra, I ask you.

The picture in the Mail is priceless and goes to show that male models in suits should probably be outlawed, especially when being forced to pose in a way that “demonstrates” the workings of the world’s most hi-tech but least fashionable garment. If you look closely, you can see it’s basically a suit with some rather shoddy slashes on the inner lining in which wires and iPod are shoved. Genius.

I also love the way the Mail goes on to report in some wonderment that, come the year 2020, we will all be wearing Buck Rogers-inspired tin-foil (I paraphrase), containing “TV screen technology using materials so thin and flexible that they can be worn like clothes”, which “could display moving images, changing colours or designs to match the mood of the wearer”.

Yes! And all our household chores will be done by robots wearing aprons.

Via Gizmodo.