By the way, i know this sites aesthetic and creative rating would be closer to nil than my skill with a dart, but it's not for want of...wanting.
And i have tried.
It just says (whenever i try to clothe blog in a more suitable skin) something about incompatibility. Yes, i have little intelligence for these sort of things. Oh the shame.
Why are you proud of your outward identity you idiot? i'm trying to reinvent you physically! Be glad you can you be assinine blog!
Ungrateful bastard.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
On twitter
All right! I confess! Just don't clap me in irons and send me off to the subterranean sewers to die a putried death!
...
I've signed up to twitter.
Personally, i think it's a ridiculous outlet. So it'll probably grow on me. This microblogging thing.
My signing up wasn't of my own initiative, well, not really. Yes, i'm shifting the blame...onto none other than my idol of idols, Stephen Fry. Behind TIME magazine and Obama, he has the most followers on Twitter. Very technologically savvy that man. Upon learning this, i was intrigued. Surely if such an intellectual is embracing this en masse networking of menial descriptions of the worlds day-to-day activities, there's something more. Something exciting. Something new. Some massive shift in social awareness and thinking impulses implicit.
In my, erm, two days as a user, i have learned a great deal. Or perhaps it is more truthful to say i have been completely bewildered over these couple of days and hence my thought paths have trundled aimlessly in Twitter's direction. It's function, it's usage, it's benefits, it's downsides. Is it normalising personalities in the media limelight? Is it distancing mankind from more worthwile pursuits? Such as living? Why is the focus of technology always staring at a computer screen, a parallel universe, separate from earthly existence?
Predominantly: is it merely a medium for the vain and egocentric? I have no doubt it operates thus for a multitude. Probably me included.
But. But. Can it also be considered a tool for creative expression? The forging and refining of a talent of spewing forth pithy or witty lines.
For example: i am following Bill Bailey (!!)
He has posted today (read from bottom to top)
"RealBillBaileyam now punishing the ironing board for jumping out - have put it in the bath upside down like a drunk horse.
RealBillBaileyfeel slightly foolish now for being scared of ironing board, but it made me jump allright? making some camomile tea to calm down
RealBillBaileyopened the hotel wardrobe and a huge ironing board fell out onto me, like it was attacking me...actually shouted for help"
For all my criticisms of Twitter- how bloody amusing is that? He epitomises someone who isn't wasting the Twitter space, but revelling in its potential to entertain, to stimulate. To be creative. Imaginative. Hilarious.
I don't know. Of course, (as i posted at the start) i have no real right to be a Twitterer. Because my life is composed of me watching bits of fluff drift across airless, stagnant rooms with boring wallpaper on a bed with musty flannel sheets. Blinking stupidly. Scratching my nose from time to time. Stimulating for me is the sound of a toilet flush.
Comparitively anyway.
Well, maybe Twitter is positive, if only for the realisation of how boring i am. Perhaps this will be my final motivation to actually do something with myself.
...
I've signed up to twitter.
Personally, i think it's a ridiculous outlet. So it'll probably grow on me. This microblogging thing.
My signing up wasn't of my own initiative, well, not really. Yes, i'm shifting the blame...onto none other than my idol of idols, Stephen Fry. Behind TIME magazine and Obama, he has the most followers on Twitter. Very technologically savvy that man. Upon learning this, i was intrigued. Surely if such an intellectual is embracing this en masse networking of menial descriptions of the worlds day-to-day activities, there's something more. Something exciting. Something new. Some massive shift in social awareness and thinking impulses implicit.
In my, erm, two days as a user, i have learned a great deal. Or perhaps it is more truthful to say i have been completely bewildered over these couple of days and hence my thought paths have trundled aimlessly in Twitter's direction. It's function, it's usage, it's benefits, it's downsides. Is it normalising personalities in the media limelight? Is it distancing mankind from more worthwile pursuits? Such as living? Why is the focus of technology always staring at a computer screen, a parallel universe, separate from earthly existence?
Predominantly: is it merely a medium for the vain and egocentric? I have no doubt it operates thus for a multitude. Probably me included.
But. But. Can it also be considered a tool for creative expression? The forging and refining of a talent of spewing forth pithy or witty lines.
For example: i am following Bill Bailey (!!)
He has posted today (read from bottom to top)
"RealBillBaileyam now punishing the ironing board for jumping out - have put it in the bath upside down like a drunk horse.
RealBillBaileyfeel slightly foolish now for being scared of ironing board, but it made me jump allright? making some camomile tea to calm down
RealBillBaileyopened the hotel wardrobe and a huge ironing board fell out onto me, like it was attacking me...actually shouted for help"
For all my criticisms of Twitter- how bloody amusing is that? He epitomises someone who isn't wasting the Twitter space, but revelling in its potential to entertain, to stimulate. To be creative. Imaginative. Hilarious.
I don't know. Of course, (as i posted at the start) i have no real right to be a Twitterer. Because my life is composed of me watching bits of fluff drift across airless, stagnant rooms with boring wallpaper on a bed with musty flannel sheets. Blinking stupidly. Scratching my nose from time to time. Stimulating for me is the sound of a toilet flush.
Comparitively anyway.
Well, maybe Twitter is positive, if only for the realisation of how boring i am. Perhaps this will be my final motivation to actually do something with myself.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Wow. I see a blank space before me and my mind somehow simulates it.
It's been a while since i've last posted, and suddenly this fear is gripping my throat, because i find myself scrabbling desperately to locate that elusive identity i lorded over in this cyber realm. It's as if i strode forth into a new epoch of existence and forgot to take a few essential items with me. Like a personality.
Something too much of this.
I'll tell you about my day, because it is a sordid little pleasure of mine to know that i've made another human being comatose.
Well actually, you're in luck. There's nothing much to tell. I woke, spent a couple of hours mooching about, then motivated myself to the next level of reading drowsily, peaked at beginning to write an introduction for my long essay, lost momentum halway through a word, and the rest of the day went downhill from there. Basically, I lapsed into a stupor and consigned myself with dramatic weariness to the pitiability of my being by observing comedians making fools of themselves on youtube.
Humour is such a particular thing. There is no joke, sketch or scenario that packs the paragon comedic punch to titillate the universal side. Call it narrowminded subjectivity, but honestly, the things some people laugh at! Stadiums of people roaring at some feeble pun or impression which would be subject to the most disdainful expression the facial muscles can work if it was spun at any other time than a comedy performance or show. I firmly believe in the theory that half the reason the audience laughs can be sourced from expectation and atmosphere. Well the two depend on each other really; the second is the partial plural of the first, add lighting, add sound, add setting. You can't blame participants pumping themselves up with air before a performance, ready to release the pressured, pre-packed and aimless hilarity, and explode it into a toneless 'haw haw' the air. The attitude: you pay to be amused, and you're damn well going to convince yourself you've had a good time. Eke the performance for all it's worth. Let intelligent sensibility impale itself if it's going to intercept your potential to be entertained.
Following that disparaging critique of the economic-minded or mind-less entertained, i have to put in i do have a great deal of respect for comedians. It doesn't quite have the right timbre, that word, 'respect'. Too serious to attach to such waggish careerists. But just that aptitude, to create laughter as though it was a chemical compound, and they some deviant, insane chemist.
Imagine life without laughter. Not even the occasional snigger eruption. How bleak. How terrifying.
I don't think it's something that defines youth, i won't be ageist. This almost rapacious search for a high. But don't you imagine older generations sampling humour like good cheese?
If only one could learn scholastically because one wanted to. As though it wasn't a grudging action, spoken of with whine or a moan.
It's been a while since i've last posted, and suddenly this fear is gripping my throat, because i find myself scrabbling desperately to locate that elusive identity i lorded over in this cyber realm. It's as if i strode forth into a new epoch of existence and forgot to take a few essential items with me. Like a personality.
Something too much of this.
I'll tell you about my day, because it is a sordid little pleasure of mine to know that i've made another human being comatose.
Well actually, you're in luck. There's nothing much to tell. I woke, spent a couple of hours mooching about, then motivated myself to the next level of reading drowsily, peaked at beginning to write an introduction for my long essay, lost momentum halway through a word, and the rest of the day went downhill from there. Basically, I lapsed into a stupor and consigned myself with dramatic weariness to the pitiability of my being by observing comedians making fools of themselves on youtube.
Humour is such a particular thing. There is no joke, sketch or scenario that packs the paragon comedic punch to titillate the universal side. Call it narrowminded subjectivity, but honestly, the things some people laugh at! Stadiums of people roaring at some feeble pun or impression which would be subject to the most disdainful expression the facial muscles can work if it was spun at any other time than a comedy performance or show. I firmly believe in the theory that half the reason the audience laughs can be sourced from expectation and atmosphere. Well the two depend on each other really; the second is the partial plural of the first, add lighting, add sound, add setting. You can't blame participants pumping themselves up with air before a performance, ready to release the pressured, pre-packed and aimless hilarity, and explode it into a toneless 'haw haw' the air. The attitude: you pay to be amused, and you're damn well going to convince yourself you've had a good time. Eke the performance for all it's worth. Let intelligent sensibility impale itself if it's going to intercept your potential to be entertained.
Following that disparaging critique of the economic-minded or mind-less entertained, i have to put in i do have a great deal of respect for comedians. It doesn't quite have the right timbre, that word, 'respect'. Too serious to attach to such waggish careerists. But just that aptitude, to create laughter as though it was a chemical compound, and they some deviant, insane chemist.
Imagine life without laughter. Not even the occasional snigger eruption. How bleak. How terrifying.
I don't think it's something that defines youth, i won't be ageist. This almost rapacious search for a high. But don't you imagine older generations sampling humour like good cheese?
If only one could learn scholastically because one wanted to. As though it wasn't a grudging action, spoken of with whine or a moan.
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