It's raining today. After a week and a weekend of intense heat (up in the thirties on most days), it's suddenly turned cold and wet. Of course, it did this on a Monday morning when I have no car to get to work: the 30-minute walk was somewhat damp. Thank goodness I borrowed an umbrella from Psycho a little while ago and always have it in my backpack. Being English, I'm used to the rain and I don't mind it, unless I'm getting soaked at the start of a work day or before some other event - it is the unpleasant feeling of not being able to change out of wet clothes that I dislike, not the rain per se.
As I walked through the park this morning, with water pounding on the umbrella, I approached a young lady who had no coat and no brolly to protect her. I walk reasonably fast, so was catching up with her. Being a bit of a gentleman (thanks to my parents having such awful things as morals, respect and principles!), I offered her a place under the umbrella as we walked in the same direction. It was only for a few minutes, but it was nice to see that she (a) didn't think I was a complete loon and run away screaming, and (b) that we conversed for those few minutes quite pleasantly. Of course, I ended up with one shoulder totally soaked through (small umbrella!), but a human contact in a world of silence, fear and self-protection made that worthwhile.
And before you ask, Ross, I don't know if she was pretty: I wasn't really looking.
Yesterday evening was a bit weird, which I suspect was also due to the weather. I was over at Psycho's place, beginning the (somewhat odious) task of teaching her to use Microsoft Word. She's a good student, but she has no patience with computers and a short memory when it comes to tech stuff. We'll get there in the end, but it'll be a long road upon which I will have need of great calm!
Anyway, I suddenly started feeling quite ill. Pounding headache. Stomach churning. Very odd. The feeling didn't go away throughout the evening, then all of a sudden... my nose started bleeding. I very rarely get nosebleeds. Psycho thought it was probably heat damage: it had been very hot and heavy throughout the day. On the other hand, I had hardly been outside for very long: a short 10-minute walk was all. I left earlier than normal and made my way home, where, as I sat typing a couple of things on the PC, I suddenly had another nosebleed! Most annoying. This morning, I still feel a bit odd, but have not had blood spewing out of my face just yet.
I am reassured by the knowledge that no plague-bearing monkeys have bitten me recently.
I was over at Ronnie's just this morning, where he has a wonderful item about being rude. I can't link it direct, since the poor chap doesn't have the web space for daily archiving, but it brought back memories of when I lived in Cardiff.
"You lived in Cardiff?" I hear you say. I did indeed. After University (which was in London, and was where I met my brother, Scary Ross), I was still with E.S. We wanted to be together, but she was (and still is) American, so her staying in the country depended on her situation. She decided to do a Ph.D. (in English Literature, I believe) and applied to Edinburgh University as well as Cardiff. Edinburgh would have accepted her, but a year later. So we ended up in Cardiff.
Incidentally, Cardiff (or Caerdydd in Welsh - see, I learnt something while I was there!) is in and is the capital of Wales (Cymru). It is not in England. It is, however, part of the United Kingdom and of Great Britain, as are Scotland and England. I just thought I'd point that out.
We lived together there for about six months, right up until she started two-timing me with some chap, I found out and caught her, ranted, destroyed everything in the apartment (purely for visual effect and I didn't break anything that was mine), went off for a training course and came back to find that not only had she moved out, but she'd taken half my stuff with her and left a note asking for a cheque for 'her half' of the stuff she'd paid for and left behind (i.e. the stuff that wasn't nailed down or was too big to carry, like the bed).
Just one of the reasons she is the only person I use the word 'bitch' to describe.
Anyway, I digress. What does this have to do with the link between my memories of Cardiff, Ronnie's web site and something called Kosh? Well, nothing at all: I was talking about Cardiff and got sidetracked!
While I was in Cardiff, I worked in a shop called 'Virtual Reality'. It was a computer gaming shop, the concept of which was to focus on multimedia. It was a bit ahead of its time, to be honest, stocking CD games, next-gen consoles and so on back in 1991 when people didn't know if they were a good idea or not. The guy who invented the idea apparently invented the Virgin Megastore, too. Very nice boss and we got on like a house on fire. The shop, incidentally, was bought out by Beatties (the model shop people) and ruined by stocking radio-controlled cars and Airfix kits in the back. The new manager hated me, too, because I knew how to sell computer stuff and he didn't. D'oh.
We not only had a real VR machine (way cool, flying a Tornado in three dimensions), but also a couple of consoles on timers which the kids could play with. This is, finally, where the link to Ronnie's blog of yesterday comes in: adolescents being rude and refusing to share.
We had a little control panel behind the counter where we could reset the game and set a timer (from 60 seconds of play up to 7 minutes, and an 'unlimited' switch - neat gadget, that!). So visiting kids would ask to play, we'd reset one of the consoles and they could play for a while. I was always really mean about it, except to the geeky kids: being a geeky kid myself, I understood their need for some kind of acceptance and to not be further downtrodden by the cooler masses.
Whenever a kid asked if s/he could play, I would only let them if they said 'please'. Thankfully, 80% of them did. But I still remember one particular day...
Kid Geek comes into the shop. He approaches the counter and shyly stands to one side while I finish dealing with my customer. He waits quietly. Kid Cool enters the shop behind him, strutting confidently and directly to the console on the other side of the shop. "Hey! Switch the console on!" he shouts at me. I finish with my customer and turn to Kid Geek, asking him what he would like. "I'd like to play on the console," he says.
"What's the magic word?" I ask, smiling.
"Oh! Please!", he says, blushing at having forgotten to say that when he asked. I smile, laugh and nod, saying quietly "OK, go over and just wait for the idiot to come over here. I'll switch it on."
Kid Geek grins happily and heads over to the console. Kid Cool again shouts in my direction. I beckon him over with a finger and a frown. He struts over, chewing some gum, open-mouthed (which I really hate). "Why won't you switch the console on?" he asks, loudly, apparently thinking he can embarrass me into doing what he wants. "What's the magic word?" I ask, completely seriously.
The look of confusion is priceless. He struggles with that one for a good twenty seconds. "What d'you mean, magic word? There ain't a magic word! Just switch it on! You have to switch it on when I want!"
"If you don't know the magic word, you can't play."
"But he's playing," he says, employing that wonderful 'I'm adolesccent and the world is sooo meeeaaaan' whine, pointing at Kid Geek, who isn't even on a timer.
"He knows the magic word."
"I don't care. I'll just go and take it off him!"
"I wouldn't advise that. I'll throw you out and ban you from the shop."
(cue adolescent whiney voice) "You can't do that! Tell me the magic word!"
"Yes I can and no, I won't. If you don't know it at your age, you never will."
Kid Cool snorts angrily and leaves. Sometimes life is wonderful.
And what does this have to do with a Vorlon called Kosh? Nothing, actually. I've just been watching a few episodes and liked the quote. Hah!
No, this isn't a posting about the web site with all those psychotic phone calls (that'd be right here). Note the comma, implying that 'Ex-Girlfriend' describes 'Psycho' and not the other way round. This is, in fact, a post about Psycho: I have now received a total of at least a dozen emails since I started this blog, asking lots of questions about her. So I thought I would dedicate today's entry to this wonder of nature.
If you read the stuff I post here at all regularly, rather than just dropping in, yawning and departing, you must be aware of who Psycho is. If not, read the profile for the basic intro. Of course, I have also posted about her before, usually in a negative sense. Oh, and you can blame that in-sentence linking habit on Joz Of The Tongue-Cuteness... it's all her fault! Gaaaaah!
The first question everyone asks is "Does she read your blog?", to which there are, in fact, two answers. Firstly, "I don't know". She has a computer (that I bought her and set up) and an internet connection, but she's what you might call 'computer illiterate' for the moment, so she struggles to get online and do stuff. She's learning, but she never had to use computers before, so it's learn-from-scratch. She might have seen my blog, she might not. The second answer is "Do you think I'm completely suicidal or something?" - I wouldn't point her at this page voluntarily. There is nothing here that she shouldn't know, but there is a lot here that is expressed without using the PsychoFilter. That would cause problems.
Secondly, people ask "Why is she still your friend?" when they see me complain. Obviously, you all only have friends who are perfect and never annoying, who are generous, kind, beautiful people who are also good in bed, rich, charming and would do anything for you. Well, I ain't so lucky! Psycho and I went out (read 'dated' if you're stuck in US-English) for about five years, so we have a lot of baggage, particularly since those five years were the best and almost-worst of my life. There has only been one woman who has hurt me more than Psycho (that'd be E.S., the only person alive who merits my using the word 'bitch') and none who have made me happier. She is also the only friend I have in this city (and in this country) and I consider her my family. She merits some extra patience, because she has generally had that same patience for me in the past, when I have really needed it.
You should remember, as always, that this blog is just me jabbering to myself: when I complain, I do so in the moment when The Rage takes me, and I will be less calm than usual. Take my rants, rare as they are, with a pinch (or a small continent) of salt.
When it comes down to it, lots of the problems I have with Psycho are, in fact, my own fault. Is it not I who pay her rent? And do her shopping? And cook for her? And pick up her prescriptions? And solve all her problems? As all good psychologists will tell you, we grow and learn through frustration (and yes, Scary Ross, before you say it, that probably means I have grown and learnt lots... bah...). By removing her frustrations, by doing too much for her, by being a 'Too Good Mother' to (i.e. molly-coddling) her, it is, in fact, me who feeds her annoying little adolescent princess personality.
Such is life: not only must I now learn not to do so much for her and deny my stupid self-sacrificing personality, but I have to take the consequences of her whining endlessly when I do. Sometimes we dig such deep, deep holes for ourselves...
Note: I will also answer questions about Psycho in the comments if they're not rude, invasive or just too plain weird. If you're really that interested.
Ah, bliss. I sorted out that database problem yesterday evening: or more specifically, the chap in the US who really knows the thing inside out kindly spent an hour on the phone with me to see what was wrong! It turns out that the problem was on their side of things: when they transferred our BO Universe into production, the security definitions for one or more of the tables we look at in the huge database were not transferred with it! Phew... it wasn't simply that I couldn't find anything wrong, then.
It's also payday today, so all is well in the world. At least for about a week, until Psycho spends all my money on manic stupidities and petty obsessions.
Whoa... this is way too much for me. The lovely Italian project manager emailed me this morning with a total bugger of a problem on the Business Objects universe she uses (and I'm maintaining). Her problem is way out of reach of my understanding - for all of the application, the universe and the databases being used. Nightmare.
Of course, I inherited this thing from someone who left, anyway, and have never had any training on the app, so I don't feel quite so bad. Having said that, I still feel bad. I hate not being able to help folks out. For now, a workaround might have to suffice, that I found by pure chance.
Time to book those BO courses, quick-sharp! I think I'll also book some time with that same Italian lady so she can explain what on earth all this stuff means in real terms, rather than just as database tables and columns. For the moment, I'm going to go somewhere quiet and kick myself for not knowing what she's talking about. Darn and blast it.
Ah, what a day. I decided to go back through my work email today and sort out all the 'pending' jobs I have been overlooking in favour of more important tasks. Unfortunately, this has resulted in the conclusion that everyone considers me their job-waste-basket: I now have about thirty tasks to perform for people who, in many cases, can't be bothered to do the work themselves.
Of course, this could be my own stupid fault: I've never specialised in any particular subject, the consequence of which is that I tend to attract all the 'interesting' little jobs that aren't really in anyone else's field of expertise: Business Objects, Siebel, web stuff, server admin, data migration... it's all there!
In other matters, I discovered today that I have truly become the only person in Europe who knows what's going on in my primary application. All my old managers and technical leads have moved on to other companies or other positions. This is excellent: it means that, finally, management will listen when I speak. There is no one left above me who can ignore my opinion on such matters! Yahoo!
I think I shall look at the positive side of this pile of work and consider my task list a potentially fun opportunity to fool around with a plethora of different tools and applications. That's probably a better idea than moaning about it, after all! To work!
I woke up late this morning. Not really, really late, but late enough that my first reaction was "Shit! Dammit!" as I realised there was no way I would make it to the office for a standard 9am start. So I shall work from home, instead. A little voice somewhere undoubtedly thinks this is a smart move.
Went blog-wandering today, through my blogroll of folks, and I feel like I must have been away for a week or something. Everyone has loads of entries suddenly popping up! Excellent... I thought I'd do some of these tests and memes and other fun stuff I ran into while wandering.
First off, IQ. I've never known what the figures mean, to be honest, but according to this test (which is, I must say, remarkably short, for an IQ test - they normally last a good hour or two) mine is 135. More interesting is the opinion that I am of an 'Inventive Inquisitor' type (click the image to go to eMode, where the test is):
"The first thing we can tell you about that is you're equally good at mathematical and verbal skills and have a thirst for learning through experience. But that's just scratching the surface."
Of course, the best thing on that results page is the matchmaking service (!!) which, from my IQ result, matched me with a woman who notes "I like: religion" or, of course, the "Hot math teacher looking for love". What's hot math?
This one comes from RockinRonnie and their copy/paste HTML is seriously ugly and screwed up. This is the made-pretty version:
You're Australia!
You're easy-going, relaxed, and yet somewhat tough and hardy all at the same time. You can appreciate culture, scuba diving, and even safaris. This makes you pretty interesting and intriguing to others, though also really unpredictable and even wild. Your knowledge of nature is unthinkable to most of those around you, even though your respect for it is sometimes less than perfect. People really like your accent.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid
Jackie did something today that I've not seen before(no, not that): the 'Three For Thursday'. I don't know where it comes from, either, but I figured I'd have a poke at it with a sharp stick and see if it reacted:
1. What are 3 things unique about you?
Firstly, I am unique: there is no one else like me on earth. Secondly, I am uniquely unique. Thirdly, I'm unique just like everyone else is. ;)
2. What are 3 funny/strange/wacky talents you have?
Hmmm. (1) I can juggle, but not incredibly well, (2) I too can pick stuff up off the floor with my toes (just like Jackie!), (3) I can remember almost every single piece of information that has been told to me, on one condition: that it's pointless and useless to do so.
3. What are 3 of your best traits?
Egad... ask someone else that. How am I supposed to know? If I had to choose, I'd say that I'm a diplomat (I can get along with virtually anyone), I attract people (Psycho tells me this) but not sane women (unfortunately) and I have a minor version of that 'gift for computers' thing - you know, where you just 'know' what's wrong with something?
If I asked Psycho, she'd pick attracting people, that she thinks I'm funny and that (according to her) I have a nice butt.
BONUS: What is the most outlandish thing you’ve ever done?
Without total recall, that would be difficult to determine. I'm not a particularly outlandish person (except in appearances, thank you Scary Ross...).
Gaaah, another day of strikes here in beautiful Paris. Thankfully, as usual, I'm working from home. Blasted government workers obviously realise they have it better than us in the private sector and don't want to lose their super-duper pension benefits, despite the fact that it's us paying for them. Gaaah. Selfish bastards... and I bet they all voted socialist, too.
My apartment is right next to a big junction here in the city, just above a pharmacy and right next to a traffic light. Consequently, strike days wake me up in a rather nasty fashion: all the beeping car horns as Parisian "I have no patience" drivers continue their snail's-pace crawl to work. Still, I much prefer to live in the city than out in the boonies where there's nothing to do and it takes twenty minutes to reach the nearest store!
Today will be a bit of a dull day (in extremis, come to think of it): I have a Business Objects universe to update for a lovely Italian Project Manager, some cat litter to buy, a rabbit's litter-tray to clean out... and that's about it. I should probably buy something to eat for tonight, come to think of it, since I won't be gong over to Psycho's. I never see her on Thursdays: it's kind of my day off.
Oh, I fixed that coding problem from yesterday. You're probably about as interested in that as you are in having someone saw one of your legs off without anaesthetic, but it's in the extended bit. Just hit 'more'.
So I fixed the code! Woohoo!
It turns out that the EffectDazed() I was using is an actual effect applied to the character in the game. This is why the EffectKnockdown() wasn't being applied: I knocked them down but dazed them immediately afterwards. No time to react. What I was really looking for was a visual effect:
void main()
{
object oPC = GetNearestCreature(CREATURE_TYPE_PLAYER_CHAR,PLAYER_CHAR_IS_PC);
effect eSlapdown = EffectKnockdown();
effect eSeestars = EffectVisualEffect(VFX_IMP_DAZED_S);
effect eKapow = EffectLinkEffects(eSlapdown, eSeestars);
ActionPlayAnimation(ANIMATION_LOOPING_TALK_FORCEFUL,1.0,0.5);
DelayCommand(0.5,ApplyEffectToObject(DURATION_TYPE_TEMPORARY,eKapow,oPC,2.0));
ActionPlayAnimation(ANIMATION_FIREFORGET_TAUNT,1.0,0.5);
DelayCommand(0.8, ActionSpeakString("Let that be a lesson to you!", TALKVOLUME_TALK));
}
So there you go. That one has the barmaid raise her arms (forceful animation), whap the player's character (ApplyEffect), shake her fist (taunt animation) and tell them off. Hehehehe, works a treat. Don't mess with the barmaid!!
Would someone be kind enough to explain to me why this damned thing won't work? It looks perfectly logical to me, I can assure you.
void main()
{
object oPC = GetNearestCreature(CREATURE_TYPE_PLAYER_CHAR,PLAYER_CHAR_IS_PC);
effect eSlapdown = EffectKnockdown();
effect eSeestars = EffectDazed();
effect eKapow = EffectLinkEffects(eSlapdown, eSeestars);
ActionSpeakString("..slap..", TALKVOLUME_TALK);
ApplyEffectToObject(DURATION_TYPE_TEMPORARY,eKapow,oPC);
DelayCommand(0.8, ActionSpeakString("Let that be a lesson to you!", TALKVOLUME_TALK));
}
Sometimes, I really hate coding stuff. I'm not even a programmer by trade: I gave all that stuff up years ago, having become disillusioned with spending my days fighting computers to get them to do what I wanted. Still, I'm glad I used to program - the concepts of a bunch of pretty much defunct languages (I learnt PASCAL, LISP, APL, FORTRAN and PROLOG at University...) have saved me learning the basics of a plethora of new things I have had to pick up since being out in the real world.
I just wish OO scripting was as easy as riding a bike. At least then I could look sporty and wear one of those funky helmets and some really tight cycling shorts. Or maybe not. Civilisation can probably do without that kind of a shock.
Too out-of-it to post anything coherent today, so I shall fall back on This Or That Tuesday:
1. Newspapers or magazines?
Neither, really. If there's either lying around in the smoking room, I'll have a quick read of something random. That's mostly just to make sure I can still read French, though!
2. Books-on-tape or regular books?
Regular books: I can't stand hearing some dope's voice reading stuff. The characterisations should be done in one's own imagination, not by an actor. That's the magic of books.
3. Paperback or hardcover?
Not worried: they both contain the same text.
4. Fiction or non-fiction?
Mostly fiction, but I will occasionally pick up a non-fiction read.
5. Sci-Fi/Fantasy or romance novels?
Sci-Fi or fantasy. I like my lack of realism to make sense in its own universe, rather than being nonsensical romantic claptrap in the real world. :)
6. Borrow from library or buy books (either new or used)?
I mostly buy these days, because I read so rarely, unfortunately. I don't even know how to use a French library.
7. Subscribe to magazines or buy on newsstand?
Neither: I don't buy/read magazines.
8. Current best-sellers or classic literature?
Neither: I stick mostly to friends' recommendations or authors I know I like.
9. Read books once, or re-read favorites every so often?
Once. I can't re-read books: I remember it all once I start and it's rather dull. Even years and years later, I still can't re-read them!
10. Here in the U.S., we have two hot best-sellers...former First Lady Hillary Clinton's memoirs, and the new Harry Potter book (coming out June 21). If you had to read one, which one...Hillary or Harry? Why?
I dislike both intensely, but I'd choose Harry Potter. I have no interest in the memoirs of a former wife of a former president of another country, to be blunt. I'd be more interested in reading an honest interview with a current leader.
Isn't money the most depressing thing on the planet? We always want more, we never have enough, it always gets stolen, people get all upset if you earn more than them... the list of problems just goes on and on.
I just sat and worked out a very quick and simple budget for my current income, since Psycho phoned. She's managed to dig herself into a financial hole (again) and needed bailing out (again), which puts me in a difficult situation with the bank (again). We're talking figures written in red, here. Ah, well - it's better that than the alternative. Here in France, if you go over your overdraft limit (which she was about to) and don't dig yourself out in 10 days (or something like that), you get an interdiction banquaire - the bank seals your accounts and you're not allowed to have any bank account for ten years. How much of a nightmare is that?
Looks like I'll be living on small amounts of cash for a while. Two rents, two phone bills and a whole ton of food costs a heck of a lot. This'll last at least 'til she finally gets her butt in gear and starts working. *sigh*
I always forget Saturday's free association post. Darn and blast it.
Just for the record, I despise U2. They used to be a really good band, but then Bono's ego became too large to fit in the UK and they had to leave, for fear of sinking the whole island under the weight of his self-importance: or they should have left, anyway. I mean, come on... first they produce the whole Rattle & Hum crap, then they start sounding like INXS (who really were a jolly good band) and now they just continue spewing mediocre crap-music all over the place. With Bono (who, in addition, has the gall to call himself Bono Vox... puh-leeeeaaaase) also turning into a political prostitute, I have had enough of them.
But that's beside the point. This post isn't about U2. It's about waking up every Sunday morning feeling awful and how great it is to finally get rid of that feeling.
There's a reason for everything. I firmly believe this, as I firmly believe that psychology works and that all my ex-girlfriends need plenty of it. For me, Sunday mornings were always difficult: I'd wake up with a pounding headache, feeling sick. I'd stagger around for a few hours and, fairly frequently, would end up taking a nap in the early afternoon just to feel better.
Then one day, recently, I understood. My father was a very religious man (a Methodist preacher, no less), so I grew up being forced to go to Church every Sunday. If there's ever something you really don't want to do to your kids, it's to force religion on them. That really is monumentally stupid. Of course, it fits the Christian Church perfectly, since they're one of the foremost promoters of guilt and fear on our planet. (Note that I specifically say the Christian Church, that is 'the administration', and not Christianity itself, with which I have no problem at all.)
Anyway, I would be forced to go off to Church every week like a good little boy, right up to the age of fourteen or sixteen. I even ran the risk at one time of getting myself baptised purely to please my father. How ridiculous is that? Well, it's not, of course: my dad was a wonderful man and obviously every child wants their parents to love them. I'm meandering around my subject, though. Why did I feel so bad every Sunday? Because being sick was the easiest way to get out of going to Church!
As soon as I understood this, the horrible feelings of sickness went away. Now Sunday mornings are lovely, wake-up-slowly-and-enjoy-the-moment days. Of course, the down-side (as with most psychological things) is that I obviously haven't completely understood the problem...
...now Saturdays are awful instead.
I would just like to point out that the colour scheme of my apartment is not my choice. I rent, so I can't change too much. The red carpet was already there, as was the yummy brown-and-silver furry wallpaper (!!). The orange sofa was a gift, as was the pea-green one. The blue square you can see at the bottom of the cam image is actually Pie's scratching tree thing, of which there was only one model/colour. Everything I have personally bought is really quite reasonable (the table, for instance, or my chair and computer desk).
I just thought I'd mention that in case you all thought I was some kind of LSD-infested 1970s hippy with bad colour sense and a love of shag-pile rugs.
Good lordy me, this is going to be such an uninteresting entry. I'm having one of those weeks where my brain is in some kind of neutral gear and I can't remember anything or be very productive and stuff. Add the fact that it's thirty degrees outside (that's Celsius, so it's hot!) and I'm just sort of sitting here melting quietly as I try to get some work done.
The meetings went well this week: Tuesday's were productive (unfortunately giving me a bunch more work), the review with the boss went well (she's talking about projects for next fiscal, i.e. August and after, so that can only be good) and the stuff on Thursday that would have dragged me out of bed at 5:00 am was cancelled due to the strikes making travel too difficult! So I'm working from home, since I have no meetings to attend today, and resting my poor weary feet.
While I think of it: I couldn't resist proxy-stealing this link to Flyguy from jozjozjoz (doesn't she have a cute tongue?) who stole it herself from elsewhere... and so on. It's a fairly large download (particularly if you're on a dialup), but it's a really relaxing, intriguing little doodad. Oh, and avoid the burping space egg!
So what's with the shaggy sofa story? Well, Ronnie asked what had happened to my sofa (if you have a fairly good visual memory, you might recall there was a big sofa on the webcam, in the distance there...).
Now, bear in mind that my webcam's about as reliable as a politician is trustworthy. I've just forced it to reload the image and send it off to the appropriate site, but it's a twitchy little thing - actually, it's the image grabber that's twitchy, the cam itself is fine. So you should now be seeing a different sofa there, Ron...
I've been spring-cleaning a little, you see. The sofa that was there before was getting really badly destroyed by cat-scratching, so I moved it out. Well, actually, it didn't get very far, but I'll get to that.
Originally, when I moved into this apartment, I had no furniture. I bought a fridge, Psycho gave me an old sofa-bed she had (in exchange for me buying half a new one for her, but that's beside the point!) and I hurriedly purchased a mattress to sleep on. A while afterwards, when Psycho's brother came to visit, she arrived at my door all excited, talking about a free sofa. Apparently, the sofa shop about twenty yards from my front door had closed and they'd just put the items that had been on display out on the pavement! So off we went and grabbed a free sofa (there was only one left, and that one was there only because her brother was sitting on it).
It was a great big ugly thing, to be honest, but once cleaned and covered it wasn't so bad. The biggest advantage, however, was unforeseen: the cat (at that time, Biscotte) loved to use it as a scratching post! Excellent - no more scratching the furniture I'd bought, no more scratching expensive stuff... she would just hone her claws on a free sofa.
Over the years, the sofa has, of course, taken a major beating. With two cats scratching (not at the same time, since Pie and Biscotte hate each other), the sides were hanging off and the underlying wood was badly damaged. So I finally managed to find a scratching post for Pie and, once it arrived, I moved the sofa out: bye-bye time.
Of course, it didn't get far: I can't lug that downstairs on my own (particularly not when it'd risk a reoccurrence of the worst damage I've ever done to myself), so it's currently propped upright in another part of the apartment. Pie loves it - he scrambles up onto the top (which is probably two metres high) and sleeps up there, or watches over me and the rabbit from his new vantage point!!
Phonetically speaking, this is one of the best computer games I have ever played, despite it being quite old for a game now. For the linguistically and game challenged, I'll help you out here: NWN is the abbreviation for Neverwinter Nights, the superb creation from BioWare. Based upon the Dungeons and Dragons ruleset (third edition, I believe), the game implements everything accurately and controllably: one can set a difficulty slider which goes from effectively turning the game into a dungeon hack (à la Dungeon Siege) or into an incredibly difficult role-playing system (with all rules fully implemented and NPCs doing 200% damage!).
However, what's even better is that the game is gorgeous. It was built by the same folks who did Baldur's Gate, so everything is rendered with proper lighting effects, characters move well, have physical expression and so on.
What's even better is that the game comes with a complete toolset: scenario/campaign builders can actually create entire worlds, with complex story development, proper quest journals and character development.
What's even better is that the toolset includes an entire scripting language, so builders can have NPCs react, respond, act independantly, follow waypoints, change their behaviour depending on the class, race or even appearance of the player character, have the sky change at night, have lights switch on and off, have NPCs retire to their homes and lock the doors, set the nightwatchman on patrol, build encounters that are scripted or random, alter entire areas in response to the player character killing something, owning an item, accepting a job... the list is pretty much endless.
What's even better, is that the game comes with a Dungeon Master module, allowing players not only the ability to play the full campaign and to play multiplayer online, but to run their own game on their own server... while players are in it! Finally, a working gamesmastering system that is flexible and complete. I've even seen add-on modules created by players that allow the DM to create and alter areas of the world without having to restart their server: you need a bar for the characters while they're in town? Create one on the spot! Want to run a persistent world? No problem! Spawning scripts handle monsters, trash collection scripts handle dropped items, area management scripts clean up CPU-cycle-hogging NPCs left ignored by the players... this thing is a work of genius.
So now I'm building my own little scenario and loving it... 'nuff said!
No, I've not turned into a small flying insect: I'm tired. The good news is that I got that hard disk sorted out in the end; the bad news is that I'm in the office and so very tired, all I want to do is snooze on my keyboard!
The HDD saga ended well, with the drive being re-formatted (in fact, this was the first time I've ever had to low-level format a drive!) and now only appearing as one partition instead of five! I don't know if it'll make the machine more stable, but it rebooted three times in a row without seizing up mid-boot, which can only be a good sign. I'm rather proud of myself for figuring that one out and equally pleased that I have more than one PC to work on a solution with!
This week, however, is going to be terribly busy: meetings today, my boss is coming over for my yearly review thing tomorrow and Big Boss arrives on Thursday for breakfast and a big meeting. If there's no meetings on Friday, I think I'll work from home: the 45 minutes of walking every day with a laptop and stuff on my back will have taken their toll by then!
Edit: added today's This or That? in the extended bit. Hit 'more'...
Ahhh, films and television this week: a subject close to the cold, stony remnant of my heart. Unfortunately a touch too US-centric, but we'll see what we can do with it, eh?
1. "The Munsters" or "The Addams Family"?
Oooooh, a very difficult choice, that one. Herman Munster was truly excellent, but Morticia Addams simply cannot be resisted. Mmmmmm. I have to go for the latter, but only by a bat-hair's breadth..!!
2. "The Sopranos" or the "Godfather" movies?
Never seen either, to be honest! I'm not a big Mafia fan, I'm afraid, so I don't really go out of my way to see such things. I've not seen Scarface either, for that matter. If I had to choose a crime film, I probably couldn't!
3. "The Jetsons" or "Lost in Space"?
Lost in Space! Wonderfully campy series and who could possibly resist the absurd charm of that robot? Danger, Will Robinson!
4. "Superman" or "Batman" (either the TV shows or the movies)?
As a movie series, I would have to choose Superman, simply because they were superbly made for their period. The original Batman film is on a par with the original Superman, too: the sequels went downhill pretty much the same way, too (i.e. the second was OK, the third crap and the fourth unbearably bad).
As television series, Batman comes out on top, with the original Superman series close behind. The whole Lois & Clark thing... well, it started very well, but went the way of all series since Moonlighting: too much personal nonsense mixed in with something that was otherwise excellent. Turned to romantic mushy poop and ruined itself. Shame, really. As for Smallville, well - ugly actors with no personality (except Luthor, who is a superb actor, and I hope has a stunning future ahead), bad stories, zero interest. Regurgitation for money-making purposes. Bleh.
5. "Sex & The City" or "Friends"?
Friends, without a doubt. I really don't want to watch a series with a bunch of women talking about people who are talking about possibly talking about sex. I'm sure it has its worth, but apart from the wonderful Kim Cattrall (who has remained astoundingly sexy and beautiful, quite apart from her talent and intelligence) it has little worth. Friends, at least, doesn't try to be more than it is.
6. "The Wizard of Oz" or the "Harry Potter" movies?
Neither. Lord of The Rings.
7. "The Simpsons" or "King of the Hill"?
Neither. I don't watch them, or any animated series for that matter. If I had to pick a 'toon, it'd probably be ThunderCats!
8. "Grease" or "Saturday Night Fever"?
Erm... do I have to admit to being able to choose? OK... Grease, then.
9. Old prime-time soaps: "Dallas" or "Dynasty"?
Dallas! I didn't really care about either, but I had (and still have) a thing for the most excellent Victoria Principal. YUM!
10. Not very thought-provoking this week...do you prefer TV shows or movies?
Movies. The ONLY television I watch regularly is Caméra Café and Nounou d'Enfer (The Nanny, in the US, I think... and no, I can't believe I just admitted that!), and those only because they're on before whatever film is on in the evening! I don't think I've switched on the television (for non-movies) at home for... oooh, maybe a year?
Wow. I would never have imagined just how difficult it would be to low-level format a drive. It's been so very long since I've had to do it, you see, and all this modern technology is much less helpful than one would imagine.
Read on for the technical saga of the WD-HDD!
I have an old PC (an AMD Duron 533, believe it or not), which I thought I might try to get working again. I'd pretty much gutted it of everything that was in there: the ATI Radeon 7500 DV went on loan to a friend with a video camera, keyboard and mouse went to my new machine, sound card went to another friend on loan and so on. I found a really ancient S3 card lying around in another PC carcass - a Diamond Stealth (how old is that?!) - so that solved the problem of 'bare bones'.
However, once I got the machine started, I ran into a bunch of problems. Firstly, it was on Windows 2000: not necessarily a bad thing, but I really wanted to set it up to re-encode video files. Yes, it would be very slow, but at least I could just leave it running and not have to use the main PC for that. The programs I want to use don't run too well on Win2k, so an OS change was in order. Windows 98 SE or XP? Hmmm... well, might as well go the whole hog.
Unfortunately, the CD drive in the machine doesn't work, which makes things... interesting. So I rigged it up to the main PC and AIMed the files over from a Windows 98 CD and from the Windows XP CD to the old machine's D: partition. I know, bizarre. However, this meant I could boot from a floppy and install Win98SE as a secondary OS (which I did) just in case everything went toes-up. Over the years, I've learnt from my own stupid mistakes that it's a good idea to have a Plan B. Once 98 was installed, I could then reformat the C: partition (always start fresh with any OS install!) and launch the WinXP install from within 98. That went surprisingly well, all things considered: the wireless keyboard even worked (once I'd replaced the batteries!).
Now for the real problem-causer: the PC locks up very frequently. I don't really know why, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's due to a naffed Western Digital 13Gb Caviar drive. The thing shows up fine in the BIOS, but as five separate drives in Windows... freaky! Now, of course, I have no way of knowing this is the problem, but repairs have to start somewhere. The drive cannot be formatted due to some problem and even Partition Magic wouldn't deal with it, so I figured it was time to lose the data and go for the low-level format. A radical solution, yes, but it's an old drive and an old machine.
That's where the problems began. First off, I needed a bootable floppy: unfortunately, XP seems to have a habit of destroying any disks I try to format via the GUI. It can do them via a command prompt, but XP no longer allows the /s switch, so I couldn't make a bootable disk. Having gone through three or four floppies and reaching a fairly high state of annoyance, I figured it was time to go back to Windows 98 on the old machine... only this was no longer working due to the install of XP! Hmm, intriguing.
Off I went to Western Digital: they provide the tools for low-level formats as a floppy image! Excellent! Unfortunately, again, this doesn't seem to work on my main machine... so I had to transfer the image to the old machine and run it from there. It still didn't work: they use DR-DOS, which has a strange habit of crashing the old PC on startup, rather than doing anything useful. What next? Well, I transferred the files from the floppy to a directory on the C: drive and went looking for a basic boot floppy image.
Thank the Gods for DrD's Windows 95 page! The only resource I have managed to find today that has boot disk images that will run from DOS! Everywhere else, they only run via the Windows GUI... which, given that my main PC destroys floppies when it accesses them from the GUI, is not very helpful in my situation. So, finally, I was able to make a DOS 5.0 boot floppy and start the old PC from it. Bliss. Switch floppy, run the Western Digital tools... and I had the wrong version! Aaaaaaaargh! Re-download, re-image a floppy, re-copy, restart, re-run...
In 26 minutes, I will know if the low-level format has solved the drive problem. After a mere six hours of fixing...
In the Orwellian tradition, entry 101 may contain your worst fears... thanks to LunaNiña.
My head hurts this morning: very annoying. I think it's probably because I am trying to low-level format a 13Gb drive and Windows XP is refusing to format a floppy to hold the tools I need... does anyone else have that problem with this damned system? I simply cannot work with floppies, on the rare occasions I need to: it hates them, it won't format them, it won't put system files on them, it won't even read half of them... nightmare!
How could I forget to mention this yesterday?! 6 June is, of course, the anniversary of D-Day when, in 1944, Allied forces arrived on French soil to liberate and begin the end of Hitler's Third Reich. In memory of those who bravely fought to provide us in Europe with the freedom we enjoy even today, I hereby humbly dedicate my 100th blog entry!
I watched Trinity And Beyond this morning: a documentary of the history of the atomic bomb. Surprisingly well made and superbly, sparingly narrated by William Shatner, this film had me intrigued at the start and deeply concerned with the massive stupidity of our race by the end. It brought back memories of growing up with the real fear of a nuclear war and should be essential viewing for today's generations (accompanied by teachers, preferably, to discuss the awful horror of what we are capable of doing to ourselves).
May peace return, stupid wars disappear and the human race finally wake up to the fact that creation is better than destruction. To quote someone from a film I don't remember the title of "Nous avons tous les larmes salées" (roughly translatable as "We all cry the same tears"). That's about as deep as I'm going to get, for today!
I was wandering through my Blogroll this morning, as every morning, and found an interesting piece posted at Ruthie's. It's written by a Benedictine sister, and you can read the full item here. This one really got my brain churning, so it'll go in the 'more' bit - avoid it if you're not interested in a loony's political commentary!
Also found at the same place is a link to some excellent buttons. Expect a couple to appear, but not many. I don't have much use for many of them. No personality, you see...!!
(I just wanted to note that I have nothing against Americans: this is purely a commentary and not intended as a personal slight! Quoted sections from Is There Anything Left That Matters? by Sister Joan Chittister, OSB, in The National Catholic Reporter, 29 May 2003.)
"It matters that [Iraq's infrastructure] was destroyed by us under a new doctrine of 'pre-emptive war' when there was apparently nothing worth pre-empting."
Personally, I would say that the fact there was 'nothing worth pre-empting' is fairly irrelevant: the doctrine of 'pre-emptive war' is, in and of itself, more of a concern for the democratic peoples of the world than anything else. A democracy starting hostilities? When was the last time that happened? At a guess, it'd be Vietnam: the 'Middle/High School' section of this FAQ makes for very interesting reading. So much for peace and goodwill in the world - American governments seem to be proving themselves to be one of the main war-starters (excluding national breakdowns such as in the former USSR, of course).
"It matters to families in the United States whose life support programs were ended, whose medical insurance ran out, whose food stamps were cut off, whose day care programs were eliminated so we could spend the money on sending an army to do what did not need to be done."
Bush seems to be pursuing a policy of 'convince the populace that there are bigger problems abroad' in an attempt to hide his inability to solve the troubles at home - social and economic. This is a fairly standard ploy: anyone who has seen the film Wag The Dog will realise just how standard it is as a ploy. Churn up patriotism (cf. the whole Communism thing that started the Vietnam War... aren't we supposed to learn from history?), get people worried about their lives, fear their 'different' neighbour, fret about possible threats, biological attacks and so on. A dangerous, yet invisible enemy can be a powerful political tool.
"It matters to the Iraqi girl whose face was burned by a lamp that toppled over as a result of a U.S. bombing run. It matters to Ali, the Iraqi boy who lost his family - and both his arms - in a U.S. air attack."
Civilian death and damage is always a pointless waste. Unfortunately, it is the human condition to be greedy, obnoxious and aggressive. The Catholic church is very badly placed to comment on such things (anyone read about the Crusades? The Inquisition? Oh, you have...), but in this case it's a Benedictine sister: one of the oldest orders. I know little of them except for a general feeling of respect and have no desire to personally slight this author... so I think I'll just move on!
"It matters to the United Nations whose integrity was impugned, whose authority was denied, whose inspection teams are even now still being overlooked in the process of technical evaluation and disarmament."
Personally, I find this very, very disturbing. The UN is supposed to maintain a worldwide security council, without the go-ahead of which, one cannot just go invading small nations. That's the whole point. Yet the US government just turned round and effectively placed itself above all authority except its own: this can never be a good thing to do. Everyone must answer to someone (and no, Dubya, you do not answer to God or you wouldn't be killing humans all over the place to make lots of money and retain power).
Now, I'm not stupid enough to think that the UN is impartial: France's refusal to go to war was not stated completely on the grounds of wanting peace. I think we're all aware of that, just as we are aware that it was not purely for the money, either... although I'm sure that made excellent leverage on the whole peace idea. However, why would we have a global security council if no one's going to listen to it?
"And surely it matters to the integrity of this nation whether or not its intelligence gathering agencies have any real intelligence or not before we launch a military armada on its say-so."
I think we all know that the best intelligence agencies in the world are outside the US...
"The unspoken truth is that either as a people we were misled, or we were lied to, about the real reason for this war. Either we made a huge - and unforgivable - mistake, an arrogant or ignorant mistake, or we are swaggering around the world like a blind giant, flailing in all directions while the rest of the world watches in horror or in ridicule."
I believe we watch in both horror and ridicule. I remember seeing a comment by an American on a blog somewhere, discussing this. To paraphrase, he said something along the lines of: "We are a young nation. We have been hurt by the September 11 attacks and, like a child, we will kick out and strike back. The older nations of the world will sigh and see this as an immature reaction: that's what it is. But we will learn and grow older and more mature in the end."
That rings true. Unfortunately, with the weapons available these days, I'm not sure that US 'civilisation' has the same amount of time to mature as older countries such as China and parts of Europe. Or that the rest of the world will put up with it doing so in a violent way for much longer.
"If Bill Clinton's definition of "is" matters, surely this matters. If a president's sex life matters, surely a president's use of global force against some of the weakest people in the world matters. If a president's word in a court of law about a private indiscretion matters, surely a president's word to the community of nations and the security of millions of people matters."
This, to me, is the most telling comparison and that which shows the horrible truth of modern society: it actually matters more that Bill Clinton made a 'private indiscretion' than it does that the government started a war against another country. Such is the result of The MTV Generation: as long as it's shiny and I don't have to think while I'm looking at it, I'm interested.
As for a president's word - or that of any politician - well... how long has it been since anyone actually believed a politician?
"If wars that the public says are wrong yesterday - as over 70% of U.S. citizens did before the attack on Iraq - suddenly become "right" the minute the first bombs drop, what kind of national morality is that?"
The standard US mentality (as seen from outside): might is right, big is better, always win, we know what's best for you, don't think: act. Unfortunately, with the invasion of Iraq, Dubya has proved what most of us here in Europe still hoped was just a stupid stereotype and not actually how the US thinks.
"We like to take comfort in the notion that people make a distinction between our government and ourselves. We like to say that the people of the world love Americans, they simply mistrust our government."
How true: I am as guilty of this as anyone. Unfortunately, the state of politics has removed us so far from the true nature of democracy that we all have a tendency to think like that. Perhaps we should stop. And vote. And demand that politicians answer to us, not the other way round.
"It may be time for us to realize that in a country that prides itself on being democratic, we are our government. And the rest of the world is figuring that out very quickly."
To momentarily borrow an expression from the Christian crowd...
"Amen to that."
...Ruin My Day Before It's Even Started:
One day, the threefold rule will eat your soul, Psycho.
12:55 - Correction. She did thank me for waking her. I was not awake enough to remember, which I now have.
Bah, humbug. The Metro is on strike again today (or rather, the RATP, who run the Metro) as a continuation of yesterday's all-out no-work day. Consequently, it would take me about two hours to get to work: thankfully, I can work from home just as well as from the office! Before you say anything... no, that doesn't mean "not at all".
Now, I'm not very good at politics: it's not something that interests me very much at all and I don't really understand all the complexities of the inter-party relatonships and so on. However, I do understand that we're supposed to learn from history...
Unfortunately, I don't think many of the French strikers have studied recent English history. Back in the 1970s, strikes were frequent. Much like here in France, people were terribly disgruntled by their lot in life, by the changes the government was trying to make and by life in general. Consequently, they went on strike as a 'last resort'. The most famous of these was the miners' strike, led by Arthur Scargill, which went on and on and on. During my childhood, 'on strike' was an expression I heard an awful lot.
In the long run, though, it's interesting to see the result of so much striking: Margaret Thatcher. The general public became so annoyed at the continual striking, the demonstrations and all the social turmoil that the Conservative (capitalist) parliament remained in power throughout the 1980s. During this time, they privatised all the previously public services that they could, changed pensions, retirement and the entire social structure of the UK.
The vast majority of the people on strike here in France seem to be socialists, complaining that the goal of the companies they work for should be to look after them, not to make profit. They complain that they will have to work longer if the retirement regime is altered (as long as the rest of us, in the private sector - how horrible!) and so on. Note that I am leaving out the despair of those in the educational system, for whom I have sympathy.
So, what will happen? They'll stay on strike. The government will not budge very much. In the end, the rest of us will become so annoyed with the striking socialists that we will continue to elect capitalists (in the UK, 'strike' became synonymous with 'socialist', even though it's not... 'taxation' is!). They will continue to dig themselves a hole that they can't climb out of.
Such is life. I'm a capitalist-socialist: I believe in giving a part of my income to those less fortunate, but I object to people earning more money than me for less work when they're paid by the government (to whom I am paying said taxes). France is throwing itself into the same turmoil we experienced in the UK, but hopefully she'll come out the other side as we did (after much hassle) - with a system that rewards hard work, that tries (badly) to care for the less fortunate... and that doesn't go on strike all the time!
This week, it's all about animals. Excellent! This comes, of course, from here.
1. Cats or dogs?
Most definitely 100% cats. Not only am I unamused, untouched and generally cannot see the point of dogs as companions, but they don't like me much either! I've just always been a cat. Cats are superior: they don't have masters, they have housemates. Don't get me wrong, though - I don't hate dogs and I'd never be mean to one - I'd just never want one in my home. Unless they were an abused stray, then I'd look after them until I could find them an owner.
2. Butterflies or birds?
Birds, I would think. I don't think I'm really very bothered either way, although crows and ravens are a positive exception.
3. Horses or cows?
Cows. (And no, I'm not just saying that for Susan...!!) I seem to be in a minority in thinking that horses are ugly, but I've always thought that. Great big long, weird heads, gangly bony legs, stupid teeth... ick. Cows at least are kind of zen in their way of life.
4. Turtles or snakes?
I'm not really into reptiles, but turtles are wonderful creatures. They're just so calm. I have nothing particular against snakes, either.
5. Frogs or grasshoppers?
Frogs are really funky. Something so weird-looking can only have a higher purpose in life that we are unaware of.
6. Lions or tigers?
Difficult choice, this one. Lions (and particularly lionesses) are so calm and regal that one can only have a massive amount of respect for them. Tigers, on the other hand, are just so cool and love water. Since Pie 'Oh' Pah has tiger markings, I have to choose the latter!
7. Elephants or mice?
Ah, they're both splendid animals. Mice are a little stupid, in my opinion, but that's probably because I prefer rats. Elephants are really smart and lovely: I think I have to choose them.
8. Porcupines or aardvarks?
The wonderful weirdness of nature! Both of these animals are marvellously bizarre, but I think I have to opt for the aardvark: anything that manages to survive by eating ants and having such a ridiculous nose deserves respect.
9. Unicorns or dragons?
Dragons. Unicorns are wussy and girly, although they do get to be ridden by virgins, as it were. See my dislike of horses, above.
10. Thought-provoking question of the week: You live in a rather dumpy apartment. A friend offers you a chance to be a roommate at a new place s/he is moving into, but they don't allow pets. You have a pet. Do you find your pet a new home and take the new place, or do you keep your pet and stay put?
I stay put. No one I call friend would ever ask me to abandon an animal, let alone a beloved pet. In addition, anyone who would ask me to do that would immediately be struck off my list of friends.
Just a short note to let you all know that there's a new version of MovableType available (2.64) from their website. This may also mean that I suddenly become slightly less active, as I should probably have a proper look at a communal installation of this tool on employees.org for the other folks who use it. If I can get hold of Phil The Unix God to help me with it, that is!
Today, I would like to invite you all to go over to Flowerhead's blog for yesterday and read one of the best entries I've seen for a long time, anywhere. Every now and then, someone will have a big of a mind splurge, writing down what they're thinking and expressing it so well that it just makes sense. That's one heck of a rant-cum-brain-dump.
The question of "for whom we blog" seems to be a popular bit of navel-watching at the moment in the community. Much like the huge rise in the number of personal web pages when the Web was popularised a few years back, many bloggers are querying their motives at maintaining an online journal. Are they doing this for themselves, for visitors, for some form of acceptance in their lives or for something else?
Personally, I've never had a problem with why I do this: it's for me. It's a way to clean out the stuff in my head that all those evil voices keep saying. If no one ever read it and I was basically typing this for absolutely no other reason than the self-expression it provides, then that's just fine and dandy with me. I'm also not narcissistic enough to point people here, unless they're directly concerned. I do, however, have standards: I trust you will never find a spelling error here, that the grammar will be reasonable in a conversational style and that I will not write in some sort of pseudo-gangsta-rap bullshit fashion (nor in l33t) that deranged children think is cool. I'm an Englishman, old fruit, and jolly proud of knowing how to write correctly.
It's nice that folks visit to read the entries and express themselves: communication is at the heart of all human advancement (thanks for that great expression that I just paraphrased, Stephen Hawking!) and it's always good to hear whether people agree or disagree, even if they won't change my opinion in the end.
Self-expression is essential to the human condition and blogging is just another form: do you paint for yourself, write poetry for the heck of it, sing in the shower? Hell, I talk to the cat and I don't care if my neighbours can hear through the wall or not. Apparently, the vast majority of bloggers are teenagers, too, which makes sense: on the one hand, introspection and the belief that the entire world revolves around oneself is, after all, the global pastime at that age; on the other hand that's the age at which talent generally begins to blossom and self-expression can open a doorway to incredible possibilites.
Regular visitors are nice to have, too: that's where the feeling of 'community' comes from. One grows to understand and 'know' the blogger - actually, this is complete nonsense. None of you know me (except Scary Ross, who lived next to me for two years at University and survived to tell the tale), but you know what I mean by that: you know me better than George Bush or Winona Ryder do, unless they read my blog. And if they do see this, then "Worry about your own country first!" to the former and "Call me!" to the latter. Please don't mix those responses up.
Politics is also a popular slant for blogging: in the same vein as perma-ranting, it provides an easy solution to always being able to complain. In general, I dislike that. Yes, a rant is a great entry and can be lots of fun, particularly if it's well written, but as Ryan recently said, " it gets flat out exhausting to maintain that level of detached cool". It does indeed - being that 'angry' probably indicates that the blogger is either (a) not sincere or (b) needs serious therapy.
A smart discourse on politics, however, can make a very interesting and reassuring read: here, I have come full circle to Flowerhead's posting. I think the reason that particular post struck me, though, was because it was a reasonable rant. Here is an intelligent lady reflecting on life, on politics, on film, her mother and various other things. She's not spitting venom in a pointless attempt to be cool, hip and attract visitors; she's not trying to be dramatic and sensational to hit the number one spot on the news (yes, journalists, that was an intentional dig at your work ethic - and yes, I pointed it out because I think the general IQ of journalists these days is low enough to otherwise overlook it); she's not spewing nonsensical personal crud onto a web site in a vague therapeutic attempt at improving her self-confidence - she's quite simply expressing a lot of internal thoughts very well, making them accessible and reassuring us that there are still people out there who are more concerned with the important issues in life than whatever bullshit nonsense CNN vomits up at prime-time and insists we/you consider important.
While I'm being offensive to journalists, I'd like to say that I really do think that the majority of prime-timers (note: NOT those who are relegated to smaller local stations or the middle of the newscast) are idiots who need their brains rearranging. They are sensationalists to the core and undoubtedly the worst propaganda-spewers since Josef Goebbels: despite their constant whining to the contrary, they really do just make matters worse. Go and report on something really important and stop being politically correct, chasing ambulances or spending more time with shootings than social dysfunction.
Also on journalism, I'd like to point out this massively distorted item that I found via a reply on a blog (thanks, Jim). Read that carefully. Now, the whole article is about whether the war was started on made-up excuses (which, let's face it, everyone's pretty sure of... there's no argument about that here!). However, look at the phrase upon which the whole article gathers momentum: "For bureaucratic reasons we settled on one issue, weapons of mass destruction, because it was the one reason everyone could agree on." Now read the title: "WMD just a convenient excuse for war, admits Wolfowitz." Now read the part about taking troops out of Saudi Arabia, which is bizarrely a good reason for removing Saddam.
In what way, pray tell, does all that back the journalist's point of view? It doesn't: it simply states that the Pentagon considers the average American citizen too stupid to deal with more than one issue, so they picked the one they all agreed on and that was the simplest to understand. That's why I hate journalism: twist the truth, cause a stir, present on point of view, cause a sensation. Do your job properly and stop manipulating the masses, please.
Being powerless to change all these things is, of course, the current human condition. Susan expresses it and I can but agree: even the hope of being able to make a difference is gone in our time. The feeling that, even if I did write the letters to the people in power, even if I did get up and go out and demonstrate (although here in France, I'd get trampled by the huge masses of people on strike), even if I did use that vote... it would make no difference.
"It is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it... anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job." (Douglas Adams)
Money is power. Politics is corrupt. Life sucks. Such are the eternal verities and, until someone honest gains enough money and power (and remains uncorrupted) to step into that milieu and smash some heads together, we're all pretty much condemned to live with the consequences. Personally, I think the Flowerhead entry sums it up beautifully:
"It feels like I'm living in a world of stupid."