Yes, it's true. What a fickle fellow Will.i.am Lewis, editor-in-chief of the Telegraph Media Group, is; though his loyalty to aspiring comic terrorist fiction writer Jasper Gerard is a thing of wonder, despite, well, I don't want to introduce unpleasantness.
On March 1 he announced on Twitter: "Talking about twitter at a lunch party and showing people how it works." And that's the last we've heard from him (as I write). How did the lunch party go? Or were soup bowls filled with insensate heads as the Twitterer tweeted?
How far away now are the days of his early bright enthusiasm.
Why, back on January 31, 2009 (but AD) he wrote not one, not five, not seven, not even 11 messages to his public, but 14! The poppet's priapic Twitter digit must have grown raw with it all that prodding. Before March 1, there was a rush of excitement on Valentine's Day as he pursued his heart's desire in Paris, President Sarkozy. And then on February 28 he signalled his transit status between Paris and London, not of course just to make us jealous.
I had grown alarmed by Will.i.am's tendency to trail off when he started Twittering the results from the Baftas a few hours ahead of the media embargo. Then about halfway through the awards ceremony he seemed to go silent - I had hoped for further colour and perhaps after-show party goss which I could then lift as my own work, as certain Twitter diarists are wont to do. I felt cruelly tossed away, like any old veteran Telegraph hack.
How quickly these modern communications novelties pass away. Next.