Whereas the industrial revolution was characterised by a 50-fold increase in production that irrevocably changed society, the microprocessor has already improved its performance 1,000 times - the equivalent of an industrial revolution every two-and-a-half years, according to Michael Malone, author of The Microprocessor: A Biography (recently published by Springer at pounds 19.50).The chips are down for mankindChips are unlikely to take over the world while there still exists one human with hammer. A single speck of dust entering the manufacturing process would mimic the destruction caused by an asteroid hitting the city.No other invention has evolved so fast or generated so much wealth, power - and bitter rivalry. The BMW 325, for example, contains about 100 chips; the average home entertainment centre, two dozen.If you were to home in on a microchip through powerful magnification, it would be like landing by parachute in a city with myriad pathways connecting tall buildings, parks and racecourses - here a memory bank, there an instruction cache capable of handling 300 million instructions per second. Their total population has passed 10 billion - two for every human beings. A chip is not simply a new product: it is a technology that inserts intelligence into products. Each tiny silicon "chip" has the computing power of a roomful of old-fashioned mainframes and 100 times that of a PC of a decade ago. No bigger than a fingernail, these miniaturised computers are the electronic brains inside today's space vehicles, video games, PCs and kitchen toasters. Eliot looked to Joyce for support when he separated from his wife.

Joyce, for his part, tried his hand at parodying The Waste Land with lines that began, "Rouen is the rainiest place getting/Inside all impermeables", and that concluded, significantly, "Hurry up, Joyce, it's time!". After a prolonged and tempestuous adolescence, the microprocessor, possibly the most important invention of the 20th century, has reached the age of 25. Their friendship remained cool, but two years later, when The Waste Land and Ulysses fell in a single burst upon the literary establishment, a rather grudging kinship emerged. Giorgio was packed off with the unhappy parcel, and Joyce conducted his new friends to his favourite restaurant, where he selected the table, ordered an excellent dinner, and picked up the tab.Joyce repeated this hospitality several times during Eliot's stay. a pair of old brown shoes. It was Eliot - tactful, Boston-mannered Eliot - who suggested dinner Joyce would join them, would he not? He would Joyce perceived but one way to regain his Irish dignity. Straw boater in hand, patents prominent, Joyce was clearly reluctant to claim anything so untidy.

Besides, it was hopelessly knotted, and no one had a penknife Nail scissors were produced Finally the layers of swaddling were unwound to reveal... The author of "Prufrock" waved a hand in its direction; he was unburdened, his mission accomplished The author of Portrait was less pleased. After introductions, they sat around a small table on which lay a crumpled, intricately knotted brown parcel sent to Joyce through Eliot by their mutual friend Ezra Pound Pound's motive was double-edged. A kind of literary missionary, he was sure that Eliot and Joyce had more in common than the fact that both were expatriates, had worked (Eliot still did) as bank clerks and were chronically short of funds Hence the package. Eliot, tall, handsome, sartorially irreproachable, came over from London with Wyndham Lewis. They met at the Hotel de l'Elysee, in Paris, on 15 August, 1920. Joyce, who had gone about that summer in dirty tennis shoes, to much comment, put on black patents for the occasion, and took his 15-year-old son, Giorgio, along.

Ginola signed an exclusive modelling contract with Italian designer Nino Cerutti 18 months ago, while he was still playing for Paris St Germain. Perhaps, then, it's only a matter of time before a new type of talent scout starts turning out to watch junior teams play on Sunday mornings The kind that takes Polaroids. Even Oasis, by far the country's best-selling band, feel obliged to admit they support Manchester City, currently the saddest team in Britain.As you read this, Arena is planning its Christmas party, as which Newcastle's star midfielder David Ginola will be guest of honour. This sudden switch owes much to the rise of New Lad culture, as epitomised by its tribal magazine, Loaded.

Another influence is the Sixties revivalism, with its attendant class scrutiny, that permeates so much of today's fashion and pop music and has led, for the first time in years, to football and pop music becoming entwined again - only this time the players are more glamorous than the pop stars. Roy Evans and his Boot Room cohorts are blooding Colly in the reserves, making him understand that the team comes first, no matter how big your designer price tag.Collymore's selection problems aside, not since the late Sixties have domestic footballers enjoyed such public approbation. Indeed, such is the buzz surrounding the new Anfield aces that Collymore, Babb and Redknapp were recently filmed drinking champagne in Cream, Liverpool's top dance club, for Passengers - probably the hippest magazine show on terrestrial TV.But while Collymore, the most expensive British footballer at pounds 8.5 million, has no problems getting into exclusive clubs, or finding space in Sky magazine, he still can't get into the Liverpool first team. Just look at the babe magnets currently filling out a pair of scarlet shorts: as well as David James, there's baby-faced Jaimie Redknapp; the soulful, doleful features of Phill Babb; and John Scales, whose WASP-ish looks seem certain to land him a contract with Ralph Lauren.And these boys aren't backward in coming forward, either: James, Babb and Redknapp are all on the books of London's Boss agency, while defender Scales is signed to Respect in Manchester. It also features an exclusive article on the modelling industry's rush to sign these Golden Studs, as fashion clamours for football's glamour. Did you realise, for example, that the Top Man chain of clothes shops now only uses footballers to advertise its menswear?If footballers are the new supermodels, then Roy Evans, manager of Liverpool, seems bent on turning his team into the Select agency of the Premiership. "Can the Ruud boy return Chelsea to their winning ways?" asks the latest issue of Arena (neatly sidestepping the fact that 33-year-old Ruud Gullit hardly qualifies as a "boy").