Cupid and gadgets have something of a history between them.
In my youth, the hot seduction technology was a disco device called the strobe. It served as an excuse for the slow dance, that dreary apology for a waltz.
Then along came Citizens Band Radio (CB), which meant that singles too gawky to dance could hit on strangers by intoning the magic, meaningless word 'breaker'. CB proved little use in wangling what was then widely known as a 'bonk' because the devotee needed a hypnotic or husky voice and something to say off the cuff. Worse, the available talent was rarely drop-dead gorgeous.
Modern digital lubricants are not much better. Chat rooms tend to be sterile domains characterised by the mindless repetition of the word 'hi' and dialogue so disjointed it scarcely merits the word. The temptation for visitors is just to lurk and type nothing.
Instant messaging steps up the pace of flirtation but only makes for mania. As for dating sites, sometimes they work, but they can be dead or awfully male-dominated (like those clubs where women are let in free because no female in her right mind would pay to be the lone xx-chromosome carrier in a maelstrom of males).
Enter Bluetooth. When it emerged in 1999, Bluetooth looked less than electrifying. Who could get worked up about a short-range technology whose unique selling point was that it worked a bit better than infrared?
Bluetooth, nonetheless, proved to have some far-reaching implications. First it spawned 'bluejacking', the practice of texting strangers with a Bluetooth-enabled mobile phone or PDA just for the hell of it.