Have you noticed how you encounter ever fewer ads and articles about how to make money on the internet? Small wonder - only eBay, Amazon and a sprinkling of sleaze conduits appear to have cracked it. The typical e-business site is lucky to record one hit a day, and that is usually the owner. Hence the decline of the word 'e-business' and the irresistible rise of pointlessSites.com (slogan: 'What's the point?'). This website, rather pointlessly, is devoted to others that lack any sense of purpose. Indeed, they are so inane they transcend their uselessness and attain a kind of brilliance, rather like the eyesores showcased at the Museum of Bad Art ( www.museumofbadart.org ) . My favourite is www.hugenumbers.com . When I first saw that address I thought the site could not possibly just consist of a long number. I thought it might consist of a long number in context, revealing how many angels can dance on a pinhead, say, or the number of pinheads it takes to assemble a flat-pack wardrobe. In fact, the content consists entirely of a huge number that would fill the rest of the space that this column normally consumes. Click the link and prepare to yawn until it hurts. Believe me, boredom is not all in the mind when you are faced with more digits than your screen has pixels. Just to rub it in, www.hugenumbers.com directs you to googolplexian.com. This site reveals the friend-losing fact that a googolplex is the second-largest number with a name and consists of '1' followed by a googol (don't ask) of zeros. Numbers appear a prime ingredient of the officially recognised online exercise in pointlessness. Prime Number Pooping Bear (members.surfeu.fi/kklaine/tpnsb/poopbear.html) depicts them shooting out of the animal in question whose rear wriggles with each emission. Do Not Click Here ( www.hat.net/abs/noclick/index.html ) will make you squirm with frustration. The home page tells you not to click on a link. When you do that you arrive at another repeating the message - the process can apparently go on for eternity. I quit after six clicks, reminded of the story of Bluebeard's Castle in which a woman marries a weird but captivating aristocrat. Before leaving on a journey, her husband entrusts her with a magic key to a locked room and orders her not to use it. Overcome by curiosity, she disobeys and discovers the remains of her murdered predecessors. With Do Not Click Here all you discover is that you have been had. Meanwhile, the Apathetic Online Journal Entry Generator ( www.brunching.com/cgi/journalgenerator.cgi? ) is less sly but just as dreadful. The entries essentially consist of flat-mouthed smileys marked 'dispassionate', 'blas?quot;, 'distant' and so on. Each smiley is accompanied by a journal entry guaranteed to stifle enthusiasm and derail motivation. One reads: 'I haven't gotten anything done today. I haven't been up to anything recently, but whatever. Today was a total loss, but oh well.' I have read bloggers with more to say than the California-based author Lore Sj?berg, whose hobbies include doubt, ennui, angst, regret, uncertainty and puppetry. At least, though, Sj?berg puts his head above the parapet, unlike the mysterious individual behind www.miserablebastard.com . He simply says: 'My wife gave me this website as a gift! So I gave her CrabbyCow.com.' The wife at that address retorts: 'I gave my ungrateful sad excuse for a husband the website: MiserableBastard.com. Then he gave me this!!!' Truly futile, like trying to beat Forrest Gump at table tennis, but www.miserablebastard.com is wildly successful. How many e-business webmasters would kill to see their site listed as one of the top 10 'most watched'? Miserablebastard.com really does seem to draw the traffic. If you do not believe me, click here: www.changenotes.com/wistats.php where you will see it ranks up there with the California department of fisheries stocking schedule and the 2003/2004 New York high-school computer hockey ratings. Even so, you wonder how they compile their statistics - Google is nowhere to be found. Could it be that they are also just wasting our time?