How to scar your kid for life
Relly: This is not a suggestion ;)
This is from today’s Daily Mail and while I am not advocating it as a valid form of getting news, I’ve not seen this anywhere else.
HEADLINE: FOOLED BY CYBERMUM!
BYLINE: BY ANNE ATKINS
BODY:
Like millions of teenagers, Ben Atkins spends hours on social networking websites. So he was delighted when he met his perfect girl online, she shared his love of philosophy and bass guitars, and thought he was wonderful … But the lovely Cheshakitten was actually Ben’s mother, Anne, posing as a teenager to find out more about this internet phenomenon. Here she, and Ben, reveal what they learned from this incredible social experiment …
It started with a bet. I can never resist a challenge and this one, posed by a mischievous friend, was a humdinger: could I befriend one of my own children on one of those ’social networking’ websites for teenagers without being caught out? Could I make a convincing youngster and engage my son in online conversations?
While it was an intriguing idea, a little like a scenario from a Shakespeare comedy in which a character disguises himself to try to discover his lady’s true character, I felt torn. After all, no challenge is worth jeopardising one’s relationship with one’s children. I said I would do it only if it was a bit of fun ñ an amusing jape rather than a sinister deceit to uncover any dark secrets.
And the sociological implications held some appeal. The internet, that vast anonymous behemoth, provides us with endless opportunities for knowledge, and mischief.
Could a 95-year-old retiree pass himself off as a twentysomething city slicker? Could a ne’er-do-well convince as a model of propriety? And could a mother really trick her own son into believing she’s a 17-year-old girl?
I know nothing about websites. I’m a technophobe ñ I can just about cope with the radio. Also, I hadn’t a clue whether my children used them. The only one of our children who is a teenager is 18-year-old Ben; the others are older or younger.
So I rang our elder son, Alex.’Does Ben use any of those website thingies for um, well, I’m not sure what they’re for? And could I get on one and pretend to be someone else?’ There was a long pause. ‘Why don’t you work out what you’re asking me, then ring back.’ Eventually Alex told me that, yes, Ben used Bebo, one of the most popular sites, ‘all the time’.
During the week Ben is at boarding school. He is supposed to be slogging for his A-levels, not wasting his time on the internet. I was exceedingly miffed. In my technologically simplistic ethic, time spent on a computer is equivalent to squandering one’s youth in a drug-soaked brothel, but at least it would enable me to win the bet.
Of course, I wouldn’t want to lie or find out things about Ben that he wouldn’t want me to know. But, after all, anyone browsing online can see his Bebo page for themselves. My moral parameters boiled down to this: no false photos or cheating ñ so no help other than advice.
Bebo is a website that allows teenagers and young people to build their own personal pages with profiles and pictures, and to communicate with friends. A typical page will feature a blog (an online journal to you and me), list its owner’s likes and dislikes, and include links to the similar pages of friends which will, in turn, provide links to their friends and so on.
Launched in America at the beginning of last year, it’s already become a phenomenal success with an astonishing 22 million registered members, five new users sign up every second. I told Alex of the plan, and he secretly told me what to do. ‘You will need to use hideous grammar and bizarre spelling otherwise Ben will suspect,’ he said. He told me to write ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ and to forget about paragraphs. I also needed a name.
‘Lucy Haliday?’ I suggested. ‘Yes, but you need a “Bebo name” , like Cherrypie3 or Somewhereovertherainbow. And to attract his attention it needs some sort of intellectual content otherwise Ben’ll just ignore it. You’ll need to be one of the slightly more interesting and intelligent time-wasting idiots who use this thing rather than the moronic braindead pillocks who make up 99 per cent of users.’
Intellectual, eh? This was news to me. I thought Ben would be mesmerised by any half-decent pair of legs, or pair of anything else for that matter.
We went through the names that might occur to a moderately well-read 17-year-old girl , Lizzy Bennet, Becky Sharp, Catherine Earnshaw , before arriving at Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire Cat, which gradually disappears, leaving only its smile lingering in the air. Apt. Very apt. We decided kitten was more playful than cat, and Alex was most particular as to how I should spell it. Cheshakitten. Obviously.
It was a day’s work creating a webpage with Cheshakitten’s name on it. Next, I had to write her profile. What was she like, what were her interests, why had she only just arrived on Bebo ñ and why did she have no friends on the website at all? I composed an account of her parents’ divorce and a move from Switzerland, but Alex pointed out that no one else puts such detail in their profiles. It had to go. Bebo suggests what to include: music, sport, happiest when? and scared of?
I tried to think myself into Ben’s shoes. I decided I wanted to write soul music, launch a modelling career and go to the best ‘uni’ in the world. I’ve never used the word ‘uni’ in my life: it made me cringe. What makes me happy? ‘Being rich, famous and in love I guess. Yeah well lol.’ I was already getting the hang of this ñ lol is youngperson speak for ‘laugh out loud’. Shove it in anywhere and you look like a teenager. What was I scared of? ‘My mum when she’s had a good idea,’ I wrote. Ben would be able to relate to that. It would feel familiar and I know how much he would laugh when he found out who it was.
As I continued creating my page I became rather impressed with Bebo. Far from what I was expecting, it’s a well-conceived, wholesome way for teenagers to keep in touch. Nothing seriously tacky is allowed; any photo with nudity will be removed. Users under 21 are advised not to reveal their age. There are reminders to report anything dubious. At least, that’s the theory.
Unfortunately, the site has real teenagers on it. And that was quite a shock. Where are these frightful young people the media bemoans, youngsters who can barely spell their own names and are obsessed with sex? They’re all on Bebo. It’s very depressing. These are tomorrow’s voters. No wonder the country’s in a mess.
In this context, discovering Ben’s page was like a breath of fresh air in a sewer. Ben can spell, which is more than I can. His page is witty, wellwritten and self-deprecating. He is most scared of ‘physics coursework’ (everyone else says spiders). He is happiest when playing bass guitar and listeningto his vicar father preach (goodness, really?). And when I clicked on his friends’ pages I found they were all pretty sensible, too. Ben was emerging in a rather favourable light.
My own page was coming together. One problem was no friends. I decided Lucy was mad on cats and used an Alice In Wonderland illustration of the Cheshire Cat as my main photo. Then I added lots more pictures of kittens.
But I had a more serious problem: no friends. Alex told me the only reason teenagers go on Bebo in the first place is because all their friends are already using it and keep asking you why you aren’t. Someone who knows nobody is suspect.
So I decided to email Bebo members at random. ‘I have just moved here from abroad. No one from my school uses Bebo. Can I add you as a friend?’ I sent out 20 requests in the hope one or two people would click ‘Yes’ without noticing they didn’t know me. Gradually, friends started to appear. Five, ten … my page was filling up with people who hadn’t a clue who I was but verified me as a contact. Then one posted a comment on my page: ‘How do I know u?’
I emailed her, ‘Sorry, mistake’, and rang Alex in a terrified panic. ‘Help! How do I remove this person’s comment? Ben will see and realise I’m a fake. The police will find out. I’ll be sent to the headmistress. Help me, Alex.’
‘You see where it says “Delete comment”?’ he said calmly, as if talking to a dim five-year-old. ‘You delete the comment.’
Then, a stroke of luck. Someone wrote: ‘Lucy! Is it really u? Haven’t seen u in years.’ She wasn’t sure if she’d got the right person. I replied confidently: ‘How’s tricks? Gr8 to hear from u.’ I linked to her page and it was so awful I was embarrassed to know her, but at least she wrote two real comments on my page.
It was time to target Ben. He had messages from two sisters on his page. I know them, but I didn’t need to for what I did next. I posted a message saying: ‘Yo Ben,you know the Randalls,’ reasoning that, if the sisters noticed, they would each think I was a friend of the other, and not challenge me.
Ben mentions cricket on his page, so Cheshakitten asked him if he attended the big Oxford church where my husband works, and whether his father was that ‘cricket vicar dude’ ñ another clergyman there. A stranger could have done this with a bit of research. Then I waited. Would he fall for it? Wouldn’t he be suspicious that, unlike virtually every other girl’s page I viewed, on my page there was no blurred snap of a couple of teenagers, one of whom was supposed to be me? It was never going to work. My bet would be lost.
And then . . . bingo, I had a reply: ‘My dad is the rugby vicar dude and he could take that cricket vicar dude any day of the week.’ In the midst of my excitement at winning the bet, I felt a more profound warming of the heart. Ben is proud of his father; so proud he will brag about him to strangers.
Thus began a correspondence that showed me a side of my son I didn’t know. Within the family, Ben presents himself as the buffoon who makes the rest of us laugh but who insists he isn’t clever like his brother and sisters. But Bebo Ben was thoughtful, knowledgeable and sophisticated. He had his mind on Greek philosophy even when chatting to a girl. ‘I don’t simply play bass guitar: I transform it from a state of potentiality into a state of actuality. (Might put that on my profile ñ do you think people would get the reference to Plato?),’ he wrote.
I played dumb until Alex told me I must pick up on these references or I’d risk losing Ben’s interest. His next message was: ‘I owe you an apology. The reference, of course, was not to Plato, but Aristotle. I shall never forgive myself for the tragic error.’
So, thinking of Alex’s advice on spelling, I replied: ‘I don’t think Aristotle wd agree with ur definition of tragic. where’s the pity, where’s the terror, where’s the fatal floor?’ No, Alex said, that was the wrong combination of clever and stupid, but it worked.
Without warning Ben rewrote his whole page, pouring out screeds of scintillating prose. ‘Look,’ I said to my husband, wild with excitement. ‘Ben is a serious writer.’ We had bred a bestselling author and our financial problems were at an end. Till Alex informed me his brother had lifted the passage straight from a Douglas Adams novel, The Long Dark Tea-Time Of The Soul.
Cheshakitten’s only comment was: ‘U have 2 “kind of’s” 2 close together.’
Ben responded: ‘I can tell you are a highly tedious person. Where, anyway?’
‘A dreary kind of prickle and a kind of tower,’ I replied, quoting . ‘And did u think no1 wd recognise some1 else’s dark tea-time?’
‘You’re good,’ he conceded. ‘And actually, I did.’ Then he sent me a link to a video of a guitar performance he was excited about. I recognised it as Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. It’s a piece we’ve often performed as a family. I joked about it being ‘a loose canon’ so he’d know I knew it.
Ben had by now changed his ‘Happiest when?’ section to include ‘reading Anselm in my local pub’, claiming you couldn’t beat ‘a good chunk of the Proslogion and a London Pride’. I quizzed my husband about Anselm, the 12th Century philosopher and author of the Proslogion, an attempt to prove the existence of God. Then I made a quip to Ben about coming down to earth again afterwards ñ a reference to Anselm’s Cur Deus Homo, on Jesus becoming man.
We were getting on famously but I could not bring myself to let my son’s fictitious friendship continue. The joke had gone on long enough. I had suggested meeting several times, and I tried it once more.
Ben replied the following day and told me to text him on his mobile to arrange a venue. Using a friend’s phone, I arranged to meet him in a pub. By now, I had told his sister Serena about the ruse. She thought it hilarious and, like me, thought he’d seen through the scam. Minutes after she and I got to the pub, Ben arrived. Puzzled, he asked:’What are you doing here? I have a rendezvous!’
‘Who?’ we asked, eager to know more. ‘I know it sounds awful,’ he laughed, ‘but I met her on the internet.’ He was clearly excited. ‘She knows Anselm and Aristotle, she understands Plato. And she plays bass guitar.’
Somehow I had to break it to him. I told him of the dare.
‘Yeah, right,’ he said. ‘Where is she?’ ‘We’re trying to tell you,’ said Serena. ‘Who do you think is Lucy?’
It was only when I revealed my Bebo name that Ben believed us. ‘But I even told a friend about you,’ he wailed.
Afterwards, Alex rang and asked how it went.
When I told him, he said: ‘Oh, no. I just thought it was going to be funny, but Ben lost a friend. Why did we never think of that?’ Why indeed?
I felt wretched, probably much worse than Ben did. But at least I’d won my bet and proved that with ingenuity and guile one really can pretend to be anybody on the internet. But, more than that, I’d seen a wonderful side to my son and got to know him in a way I’d never have thought possible.
In a few weeks, I’d seen Ben at his most sensitive, mature and witty. Strange as it may sound, we’d had some quality time together, albeit at separate locations on separate screens. Through Lucy’s eyes I realised Ben is quite a catch.
As we helped Ben drown his sorrows I tried to lighten the mood: ‘Ben, every man’s ideal woman is an impossible composite: the body of a 17-year-old model, the brains of a middle-aged theologian, a passion for Anselm, Aristotle and jazz bass guitar… Come on!’
‘But I was in love with her!’ Ben laughed. How could I, his own mother, have created his Pygmalion’s statue ñ then, instead of bringing her to life, murdered her? For a brief moment, Ben believed such a perfect creature could really exist.
Put it this way: it is a journey every man has to make, and it takes most of them a lifetime.
Copyright 2006 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
All Rights Reserved
MAIL ON SUNDAY (London)
December 10, 2006 Sunday
LENGTH: 2388 words
December 11th, 2006 at 2:51 pm
Well. I think she may have neglected to mention the bit where he didn’t speak to her for several weeks afterwards and the bit where he fails his A-levels from FLIRTING WITH HIS OWN MOTHER. Not to mention the severe beating he’d get back at school.
CRACKERS!
December 12th, 2006 at 1:02 am
That’s outright horrible.
– Brian Boyko
December 12th, 2006 at 8:49 am
While clearly there was nothing malicious planned in this experiment, I believe it was an unnecessary thing to try to prove. Of course one can pretend to be someone they are not when in a text medium. Various kinds of fraud has taken advantage of this ever since the written word became commonplace.
Ben did not learn a valuable lesson in the final disillusionment of Lucy! If anything, such an experience would cause a person to become more guarded and cynical.
As for a social experiment, it would be far more interesting if the Mother were to post genuinely as herself, in regard to her own feelings, interests and opinions, to see if she would be able to become friends with her son without context of a prior relationship as parent and child. This fabulous joke may have been as successful were a genuine personality used: that way, when Ben found out his Mother had been his close friend for the past few weeks, it would be comforting to realize that such an interesting person truly did exist. It is trivial to get a person to open up to you when you have an eighteen year history of knowing them and are pretending to be an agreeable, serendipitous stranger.
Why does this parent not already know their son to be thoughful, witty and full of family pride? Perhaps more time should be spent in getting to know ones children face to face.
December 12th, 2006 at 9:46 am
Wow…that was sick.
December 12th, 2006 at 1:30 pm
[...] TERROR for the week: Mom pretends to be a teenage girl, talks to her son on the internet. This one’s kind of creepy too. [...]
December 12th, 2006 at 1:56 pm
Well said Irina. What a shit thing to do to your own son. If you were my mom i’d slam that bass guitar over your head while u slept.
December 12th, 2006 at 2:54 pm
Is mom hot? This thread needs, NO!!!!!, shouts out for pics!!!!!!
December 12th, 2006 at 3:02 pm
“These are tomorrow’s voters.. No wonder the country’s in a mess.”
- eh?
December 12th, 2006 at 3:22 pm
One hell of a way to trigger that Oedipus complex.
That is one kid who, if he is anything like me, would be drowning the hell out of his sorrows for a while. I’ve spent a lot of time on similar websites (albeit when I was a lot younger and less jaded), and I just know that I’d be pulled in too, if a girl had msged me out of the blue and then shown a development in taste for chess, modern history, and blues. Just that fact that someone else out there is on the same page would make (or would have made, I guess) life a lot easier. What a crushing way to discover the adult concept of deceit, especially in such a… romantic (for lack of a better word) context.
Although on the flip side, discovering this harsh fact of life in a supportive environment such as the nuclear family must have lessened the blow, long term. I’m sure that the guy will, in time, see the humour of the situation, and appreciate it for what it was (a concerned mother trying to protect her child). Many many years on, it is still hard to laugh about those tough personal moments that occurred in vastly different and more hostile intentioned environments.
Anyway. An interesting one for Psych 101.
December 12th, 2006 at 3:55 pm
I’d never trust my mother — ever — again.
December 12th, 2006 at 4:19 pm
It’s not that you’ve done this that’s horrifying. Anyone unfamiliar with the Internet can make a stupid mistake; especially when it comes to overprotecting your child. What frightens me is that you obviously think of this as a “good laugh” and a “funny story” instead of something which requires serious contrition. You’ve seriously destroyed your trust with your son - doubly now, as you’ve posted the story on the Internet! Have you learned nothing?
December 12th, 2006 at 4:21 pm
I think the mother can be summed up by her own words:
“I felt wretched, probably much worse than Ben did. But at least I’d won my bet”
It’s all about her feelings - but at least she won her bet!
Poor kid.
December 12th, 2006 at 5:17 pm
Ho1st 1n ur own p3tard!
December 12th, 2006 at 5:32 pm
What a horrible excuse for a mother. Nothing screams “good parenting” louder than tricking your son into thinking he’s found his soulmate.
December 12th, 2006 at 5:35 pm
There really is something creepy and voyeuristic about the carrying-through of this idea. Sure it might occur as a way to know the kid’s world, but one would think there’d be a moment of consideration. It seems as though Ben’s steadyness should be obvious to an observant and thoughtful parent, and there’s no justification for the betrayal. I am a therapist, and these are the sorts of dynamics that many patients bring into therapy years after the event; or an event like this gets uncovered in the long and often painful process of working through issues of trust.
Anne Atkins’ telling the story of her betrayal of her son takes the whole thing to another level of passive-aggressive hostility. Break the child’s trust, and then humiliate him through the press.
Mrs Atkins, please get some help!
December 12th, 2006 at 6:11 pm
Anne Atkins sounds like a very creative person, so I think she will be able to find some way to cope with her son’s impending suicide.
On the other hand, she should keep an eye out for missing panties and stockings.
December 12th, 2006 at 7:27 pm
That’s why you don’t waste your time on my space. Go meet people like every, single, other animal does, in proximity of one another. The kid was too gullible.
December 12th, 2006 at 8:09 pm
There’s a photo of Mrs Atkins here:
http://www.oxford.anglican.org/thedoor/interviews/anne_atkins.html
Apparently she’s a regular on BBC Radio 4s “Thought For The Day”, and has written a book on how to bring up kids.
December 12th, 2006 at 8:33 pm
It’s hilarious how out of touch this mother is. i dont think i evr tlk to some1 who doesnt write in real words. Plus using lol doesn’t make you automatically sound like a teenager. It makes you sound like a……well, something else.
December 12th, 2006 at 8:35 pm
I think this story is bullsh*t. It has got all the hallmarks of PR invention just to get Bebo into the newspapers and then to go viral. Remember all of the FriendsReunited stories that hit the papers when they were at their peak? I had a v interesting conversation with a PR for their media company who was bidding for my business who offered to plant controversial stories with journalists who were desperate for copy… it all clicked into place… this has got the same fingerprint. Total cr*p.
December 12th, 2006 at 8:37 pm
I find this article as disturbing as it is disgusting, something very little else on the internet has ever managed.
December 12th, 2006 at 9:47 pm
I love the bit where she explainsd to him that “every man’s ideal woman is an impossible composite: the body of a 17-year-old model, the brains of a middle-aged theologian, a passion for Anselm, Aristotle and jazz bass guitar… Come on!’”
Okay, the man in this case who’s interested in seventeen-year-olds? Is seventeen! How is that interest inappropriate?
She got to meet the best side of her son, perhaps. And he got intimately acquainted with the cruel and insensitive side of his mother. I do’t call that a fair trade at all.
December 12th, 2006 at 10:38 pm
I’m sorry but that is just plain awful.
All the fancy self deprecating, self justifying prose cannot disguise the fact that that is a mean and disgusting trick.
Actually it’s plain sick. She took advantage of him at a vulnerable point in his life and then writes about it in an article that is now all over the internet. It’s not even funny for heaven’s sake.
You can sum it up in four words: childish, irresponsible, perverted, pointless.
December 12th, 2006 at 10:49 pm
This journal belongs to Nikki, and the above is an article written by Anne Atkins, published in the Daily Mail newspaper. She is a British right-wing Christian journalist, from what I was able to learn of her through Google.
Now we all understand why she behaves in such a creepy, paranoid and invasive manner.
For those that wanted a picture: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/newsnight/review/4697192.stm
December 13th, 2006 at 12:17 am
What a terrible woman. Not only grooming her own son on the internet like a very wrong creep but laughing about it and trying to present it as a valuable life lesson and that she’s somehow done him a favour. This woman has issues.
December 13th, 2006 at 1:03 am
This is… wow. Just… wow. Horrible.
December 13th, 2006 at 1:30 am
What kind of sick person does this to their child? “I felt wretched, probably much worse than Ben did. But at least I’d won my bet” oh happy day! She already knew next-to-nothing about her son, and now she’s alienated him further! Yay for her! I can’t even begin to fathom doing this to another person, even someone unrelated to me. She really did kill this girl that this kid believed he was in love with. I hope that he gets out of that family.
December 13th, 2006 at 1:41 am
Gross! This is just disgusting- why the heck would anyone progress beyond “maybe I should_____” into action on something like this? HOW could someone NOT know they were being decietful and possibly injurious to their own kid? And why did the brother not try to talk her OUT of the horrid idea? Does he have it in for his sibling? Is it just some bizarre “Mom Must Humiliate You Publicly” coming of age ritual in their household that he came to accept and go along with?
This is disturbing on so many levels.
December 13th, 2006 at 2:20 am
[...] Sang has a concept album of a lonely person who befriends their computer. Maybe this person is the Star Wars kid or the guy who fell in love with his mom. [...]
December 13th, 2006 at 3:36 am
Gee I wonder if a girl can befriend a teenage guy by showing lots and lots of interest in him. What the hell. Of COURSE, you lunatic. I can hardly think of anything that’s easier to do. And yes, obviously anyone can pretend to be anyone else online. Welcome to the internet. You now know what millions of ppl have known for decades. If my mom had done that to me when I was Ben’s age (or hell, even now) I’d be f*ckin PISSED. You better goddamn buy him a car or something.
December 13th, 2006 at 6:46 pm
I actually happen to be the ‘victim’ of this prank (I am Ben Atkins), and I have no problem with it at all. I put this down to a healthy relationship with my mother, in which we can both take a joke, and I can only assume that your problems with it are rooted in your own unstable family relations. What I do, however, have a problem with is people slagging off my mum. So if, as you claim, you care at all about the way I feel, then shut up and go away.
December 13th, 2006 at 7:01 pm
That was sick. What more can I say. Just for a simple bet? Who is more immature. . .the son or the mother?
December 13th, 2006 at 8:01 pm
I am Ben Atkins and I disagree with that other Ben Atkins. What my mom did is pretty messed up.
December 13th, 2006 at 11:38 pm
O.o
…will the real Ben Atkins please stand up?
December 14th, 2006 at 2:51 pm
[...] Like millions of teenagers, Ben Atkins spends hours on social networking websites. So he was delighted when he met his perfect girl online, she shared his love of philosophy and bass guitars, and thought he was wonderful … But the lovely Cheshakitten was actually Ben’s mother, Anne, posing as a teenager to find out more about this internet phenomenon. Here she, and Ben, reveal what they learned from this incredible social experiment … [...]
December 14th, 2006 at 6:15 pm
I know Anne Atkins, and can safely say that she is very cool, and not remotely malicious. So you lot can shut up.
December 15th, 2006 at 4:53 pm
I also know the Atkinses, and I think you should listen to what Ben said. To the Atkinses, this kind of thing is a joke, because they can take a joke. You guys clearly don’t have a sense a humour.
December 15th, 2006 at 4:58 pm
Well said, Charlie. Also, you guys aren’t really in a position to criticise Anne’s parenting skills, since she has written a book on parenting, and you, judging by your imoverished opinions on the subject, clearly haven’t.
December 15th, 2006 at 6:06 pm
Hold the Phone! Or the DSL- whatever- WAIT JUST A MINUTE, folks…
I just spent precious time from my life trying to track down the original story at the Daily Mail site- nothing. I did advanced searches on:
Anne Atkins
Cybermum Teen
Cybermum
Cyber mum
Anne internet ben
internet (never do this one, by the way…Obviously I am Approaching 40 and Not Tech Savvy )
Guess what? Nothing…..
Please post the link to the original story.
December 16th, 2006 at 4:15 am
“Also, you guys aren’t really in a position to criticise Anne’s parenting skills, since she has written a book on parenting, and you, judging by your imoverished opinions on the subject, clearly haven’t.”
Well, David, Hitler wrote a book on how to run a government… He must know what he is talking about as well, right?
Now, onto my opinion. This “social experiment” (bet) could have actually been a very good idea, if Anne had not let it turn into the twisted thing that it did. If she had let it stop BEFORE the kid had reason to fall inlove with her, then it would be consididered the greatest idea ever…
December 17th, 2006 at 1:23 pm
I WAS NOT IN LOVE WITH HER. Why are you gits so determined to invent non-existent emotions for me.
December 17th, 2006 at 1:25 pm
So I guess that makes it the best idea ever.
December 17th, 2006 at 7:20 pm
Rebecca,
The second “Ben Atkins” can clearly be seen not to be the real Ben Atkins, since the real one is British, and therefore has a tendency to use British spelling.
In response to a number of people who are under the impression that the ‘experiment’ was carried out in order to win a bet or to give Bebo publicity: Our mother did in fact do this simply in order to publish the article, and didn’t phone me up the first time for advice until the Mail on Sunday had commissioned her. The Mail and the Mail on Sunday pay well. (They even pay for the 50% or so of freelance articles that they decide not to publish after comissioning.)
Erm, what was the third thing? Oh yes. In response to my brother, it does give the impression in the last few lines of the article that you had some kind of ‘erotic’ (in the Greek sense) attraction to this Lucy. In response to Nick, this is due to brevity and poor editing. My brother said no such thing.
Ben, who are David and Charlie? Are they at Winkies? Hang on, don’t I know someone called Charlie? Is he the one with the afro?
December 17th, 2006 at 11:47 pm
To add to that, mum also asked me repeatedly if I minded her publishing the article, and said she would cancel it if I wanted, so everyone who said that she humiliated me (the implication being that this was against my will) can shut up. Alex, RE: David and Charlie, you haven’t learnt much from this whole episode, have you?
December 18th, 2006 at 5:18 pm
If this really is Ben Atkins, I’m glad you and your mother are cool. The problem, though, is that once a story is published, people get to have an opinion about it. Because it’s a published work. It’s no longer about the personal feelings of the people directly involved, it’s about the feelings of the readers and their reaction to what they’ve read.
And I’m sorry, but my reaction is still “ew!”
December 19th, 2006 at 1:17 pm
What a vile woman, who clearly was torn throughout the article between making her son look as intelligent as possible, and making herself seem as naive as possible. Middle-Englanders.
December 20th, 2006 at 3:14 am
Icky, vile, manipulative, hypocritical… how many adjectives will it take to capture the entirety of this woman’s badness!
December 21st, 2006 at 3:10 pm
What you have to ask yourself is…. was it really just a “bet” and a laugh or did she really pretend to be a teenage girl to try and groom young boys?
December 23rd, 2006 at 10:07 pm
Good point, Shelly. However, I don’t think that this being published gives people a license to start creating feelings which I supposedly have. To be completely honest, that’s what I call projecting.
December 29th, 2006 at 1:34 am
Alex, RE: David and Charlie, you haven’t learnt much from this whole episode, have you?
First thing that popped into my head on reading this was the possibility that David and/or Charlie might actually be (insert drumroll) Anne
January 5th, 2007 at 7:02 pm
i do the same thing with close friends, and they never find out.
if you get good at it, ( yes its hearltess and evil, so kill me!) they find themselves at your will.
im 14, i tell them im 15
stuff like that.
its me, just increased. More charming (hah) prettier and such.
but it also loses friends.
My best friend bryce now belives im a 16 year old redhead from iowa.
FAR from the truth.
but you can’t break it to them cuz they will hate you forever.
glad your son forgave you.
ive never been on that site but theres myspace, and gaia, and livejournal
chance is most people arent who you think they are.
its kinda sad..
how a best friend in my case, or son in your case, doesnt even know a “stranger” from one of the closest people to them.
alas. i still do it.
January 6th, 2007 at 8:03 pm
Frankly, that’s a twisted thing to think is an acceptable thing to do. Basic common sense tells you that you don’t go out of your way to lie to your son to get kicks out of it. Honestly, if the son is okay with it, I’m not surprised because your reasoning behind lying to your son sounds warped, and parents have a huge effect on their kids so of course you know the limits with them- you’ve indirectly caused most of their limits. You talk about some kind of great experiment that you’ve conducted, you come across as an arrogant, self-obsessed woman with too much time on her hands who thought she could make some money and have a laugh by going out of her way to humiliate her son at a very important time in his education.
January 18th, 2007 at 9:30 pm
If this story is true-it is only between mother and son-we are not to judge, while it is easier to assume how they would feel-but everyone feels differently about everything. While it is wrong and ethically speaking mistrusting to do such act to a loved one at all-and if this mother is a successful mother-meaning, children are not addicts and can make proper choices in life without depending on anything or anyone to make the decision-then it was all in fun-What no one has mentioned is that this was not a teenager-Ben was an adult and why was she checking on him if she is a Good parent? A joke-Checking up on? There are plenty of other ways to check on our children without tugging at their emotions (again it may not have tuged at any emotions) The outside empathetic world has tuged on emotions to which applies ……Ben will be fine-some of the readers may not be….
December 6th, 2007 at 12:53 pm
Do you have a reference to the original Daily Mail article please? I’ve been trying to find it and can’t. I had a comment deleted from the Guardian website, and am keen to back up my facts.
Thanks.
Alan
December 9th, 2007 at 2:20 pm
Hi Alan,
I’m really sorry, I don’t - I got it off a forum initially.
August 30th, 2008 at 10:57 pm
[...] She is a regular contributor to The Daily Mail and The Daily Telegraph. Radio contributions include Thought for the Day, The moral Maze, and Sunday Playhouse. link: How to scar your kid for life [...]
August 30th, 2008 at 11:24 pm
what a sick whore that mother is… just sick in the head.
October 29th, 2008 at 6:29 am
Horrible woman.
December 31st, 2008 at 1:19 am
Okay this is basically- “how to break your dog’s leg” . Why would you want to “Scar Your Kid for life”? I mean if they’re cool with it then okay, but its just not funny to pointlessly hurt someone…
January 21st, 2009 at 7:03 am
I saw the same thing on TV play.If a man
did the same thing to a daughter what would the reaction be? Surely maturity means CAREFULLY considering CONSEQUENCES before doing any dare or set up. For the Mail to even print the story shows irresponsibility.
February 19th, 2009 at 8:13 pm
[...] Atkins has scared me for a long time, after reading what she did to her son a few months back, I’m absolutely [...]