I don’t use this site anymore and only really keep it up as it is a repository of what I was thinking at the points I made the posts. But it still generates traffic and it would be foolish of me not to utilise that in promoting other sites of mine. I now have an art blog which can be found here: www.learningartagain.com
On my way to work I saw people spilling out of a club. Drunk men of such ugliness of the spirit and face I knew sudden violence was imminent. And bouncers who didn’t care: stood like Michelin Men in front of the gaudy facade of the club that didn’t care what crimes its patrons commit. Drunken men my age and older, out for a shag or a fight. This is Ivegate now. This is Bradford now.
Work is full of people younger than me and women who watch Soap Operas. Ambition is measured in the acquisition of jewellery. I pride myself on doing my job well. I like most of the people around me. But I stand apart. As much as I am one of them I will never be one of them.
As I get older I listen to the Rolling Stones more. Chart music seems to be ever shallower, karaoke iterations of bland truisms sanded down to remove any interest. Is Lady Gaga really that good or just the sole purveyor of music with intelligence amidst a sea of mediocrity?
I should have my current course pretty much completed the week after my birthday. Christmas will be relaxation ready for taking two more in the new year. When the economy rebounds I want to be best placed to take advantage.
There is a term used to describe the point in time that exists for hacks and exploits before they are first identified or publicised outside the group of users that created and use them: zero day. Zero days exist at the moment of creation and purity; the moment when their sole purpose is defined by the intention of the creator rather than the observer. The smallest of sub cultures before the moment either dissipates or gains some level of integration into the homogeneity of general consciousness. In my more romantic moments I imagine an ethereal spirit of zero days overseeing discoveries and realisations, shunted aside as they gain traction.
A zero day is a pin prick of existence from which a myriad of possibilities radiate outwards from, some never occurring, several occurring at once and many mingling and interfering with one another to create waveforms of existence and reality that are unimaginable to the instigators of the original event and often wholly unpredictable to anyone. A bit like life in general. For instance: dynamite. Tri Nitro Toluene (and it may be sad that I can still remember the structure) was created by a chemist called Nobel who became very rich from his invention. He also didn’t want to be remembered for this and created an award in his name to reward the brightest and best in their particular fields. For a long time they acted to establish Nobel’s name with altruism, human advancement and achievement. However the Nobel Peace Prize has long since become a political award, given to embarrass establishments, reward token efforts in fashionable pursuits and generally trading on its reputation to highlight causes rather than pacifists. And so it is that Barack Obama comes to be awarded it for rhetoric about nuclear disarmament at the same time as pursuing a hawkish policy in Afghanistan. Something that will cause death. Something he may come to be inextricably linked to. And thus Nobel is once again associated with death.
As an aside, there is a movement afoot to have Barack Obama named as (American) College Football’s best player through a rigged write in vote. As I understand it the voting makes it impossible for him to win, but he is certainly going to place as a result. Brought to you by the same people who made Rick Astley the best performer of all time at MTV and in the fine tradition of Hank the Angry Drunken Dwarf winning People’s sexiest people way back when.
On science and endings; Planetary 27 finally came out. As much as I think the Authority is the absolute pinnacle of super hero comics, as much as Transmetropolitan forever changed my world view, as much as Fell and Doktor Sleepless thrill and upset me, Planetary is Ellis’ greatest work. A century of pulp fiction and quantum and relativistic physics forced through the explorer hero archetype and distilled into some of the best comics ever made. And 27 reinforces the underlying themes of the series and provides a fitting conclusion with emotional heart while remaining utterly true to the characters and concept. If any other fiction moves me as much this year I will be amazed.
South Park came back. Not quite like the comet but probably like a swift kick in the unmentionables to popular culture. Really genuinely funny, but actually creepy with it. I can’t think of anything in the first half of the series I enjoyed as much.
I started an evening class in Book keeping. I thought the teacher was an absolute moron. I ended an evening class in book keeping. My other course continues apace. And, by apace, I mean at as fast as I can possibly manage.
I won an award at work for the month. Got a load of tat. Enjoyed the sentiment. Found out that we may all be working limited hours as a result of the postal strike. Changed the criteria by which I am looking for a new job.
I used to know someone who variously described nature as “untarmacced state” and “green is the colour of mould”. I was never quite so strident, but I do like the trappings of civilization. I like technology. I like engineering. Big machines fascinate me. And I get hayfever.
Today I was in an edifice dedicated to consumerist excess. Minding my own business, travelling down the escalator. I felt something on my neck, a tickle. I thought it may be a stray hair and moved my hand to brush it off. Searing pain in my finger and some form of yellow and black striped insect dropping to the ground.
My finger felt like it was on fire and swelled up. The pain eased some but is still there now (some seven hours later) and, at one point, my hand had pretty much swollen up and gone mottled. At one point the pain was bad enough to cause me to pass out. I think it is safe to say I am allergic to bee stings. I’m working on the assumption it was a bee because wasps have never had this effect on me.
I saw The Surrogates on Friday. It touched on similar themes to Gamer but was much more even and considerably slicker. The direction wasn’t nauseating and there wasn’t the feeling there were 3 or 4 competing films vying for screen time. It did, however, share a problem with Hostage: it veers into routine Bruce Willis saves the day with a gun territory rather than following the more interesting premise of the film to conclusion. It’s also too short to properly ruminate on some of its themes. It is visually consistent and features some neat touches and competent special effects.
Kanye West has become an internet meme. The basic joke is that you place him in a photo of an event and paraphrase his invasion of Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech to include details relevant to the photograph. For instance, you would have a photo of Kanye West invading Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech and have Kanye West at the side saying “Yo, Kanye, Imma happy for you and I’ll let you finish but I have to say that Jarvis Cocker wrecking Michael Jackson’s performance at the Brits is the best musical award show invasion of all time. of all time.” and the meme will have successfully eaten its own tail.
Speaking of which, I am sure he had a point. On the other hand, he was there in the first place which is a tacit acceptance of the rules and ridiculousness of the whole event so perhaps he should have held his tongue?
I have no strong opinion, I find it all faintly ridiculous these days.
David Cameron has been accused of being a con artist by Nick Clegg. Who reminds me nothing so much as David Cameron. David Cameron has also realigned his party away from the centre left in the European parliament and alongside lunatics from Poland. Who wouldn’t even be in the European parliament if it weren’t for the federalists. I am sure the irony is lost upon him.
I went and saw Gamer last night. It is a watchable and sporadically entertaining film that is, to say the least, confused. There feels to be 3 films merged clumsily into one and the crediting of two directors goes some way to explaining the schizophrenic nature of the film. Gerard Butler is largely under utilised as the growling bloke and the lead from Dexter given too little screen time as the main villain. But he is genuinely unsettling, which is a nice touch. Visually it is sometimes great and sometimes nauseating and does have some interesting points to make about online gaming. And also makes me glad I re positioned myself as a more hardcore gamer after years of fluffy mainstream play.
Before Gamer was a trailer for Ninja Assassin. This is from the creative team behind V for Vendetta and has been delayed by nearly a year. Normally a delay of that magnitude is worrying (to say the least) but it looks absolutely incredible. Probably going to be a very nice surprise to end the year on.
Oh, and I start evening class on Tuesday. With a second to follow soon on Wednesdays. So I think I will be online less and possibly less social.
Michael Jackson died. I know: there was nothing about it on the news or radio and you could quite easily have let such a happening pass you by. Even serious minded newspapers devoted days and days of front page coverage to his passing and I do wonder if he is the new Diana in so much as the Daily Mail and Express now have someone else to talk about. For the next ten years.
Bobby Robson has also died. It’s weird how some deaths affect you and some you care nothing about. Bobby Robson always struck me as thoroughly decent, honourable and kindly. A genial grandfather. Not my own, but someone else’s who you always felt had got some great family.
I saw GI Joe last night. GI Joe joins a rarefied pantheon of films that are so bad they’re eminently watchable in a sort of “I can’t believe they made this” way. It’s worse than Ghost Rider. It has special effects that look more akin to the place holders in the leaked Wolverine release than the actual finished article and features scenes so incredibly stupid that people were actually laughing at them. When they weren’t intended to be funny. One of the climatic moments of the film was actually lifted from a joke in Team America and several scenes only served to remind you how much better directed they were in the film that they originally appeared in. It is, in short, an abomination that seemingly exists only to make Transformers look like high art.
Two things: someone at work has contracted swine flu and id Software has sold up to Bethseda.
id Software has sold up!
Jesus. The last bastions of digital independence, programming heroes for whom innovation means freedom of the soul. When Frank Miller turned into a parody of himself and started strip mining his past rather than creating anything new or interesting, when Alan Moore seemed as petty as a six year old girl not being given a pony, John Carmack kept plowing the same path with zeal, integrity and ingenuity. He forced corporate behemoths to bend to his will, showed up his entire industry and became the de facto market leader in any segment he dabbled in. This is a man who is more responsible than any other for the longevity and adaption of OpenGL on the PC platform. Who bequeathed 3DFx, NVidia and ATI their entire (and lucrative) markets through sheer innovation and quality, who revolutionised gaming at every turn and very nearly went into space in his free time. I admired the man more than anyone else alive.
And now he has gone and (seemingly) sold out. More than George Lucas’ inability to realise not everything he does is great, more than Fatboy Slim releasing mediocre albums, more than bad films and dubious politics, this is the moment my childhood is laid bare and any certainty I had rent asunder.
Also, the lack of a sudo command in the command prompt in Windows Vista is really, really annoying.
A while back I complained about an advert with a faux American accent promising that a sale was strictly limited. This was then superseded with an advert using that same irritating voiceman but saying that the sale (while extended) would still end soon. This, duly, ran forever. And made an enemy for me of the store that it was advertising. Thankfully this run has finally ended. To be replaced by yet another advert with the same incredibly bloody annoying voice. So it shall come to pass: when he flies into a rage his enemies shall be struck dumb by his anger. And possibly incontinent.
Speaking of mad regimes, I felt proud to be British for the first time in a good long while yesterday. Too long, truth be told. The Ayatollah (I don’t know how to write or pronounce his last name, but it is not dissimilar to “ham and cheese”) has singled out Britain for particular scorn in a speech he made about how his country men should all stand behind his good buddy the mad holocaust denier in the cheap suit. You can judge a man by the quality of his enemies. Or country.
Bradford’s town hall clock continues to be a source of particularly inaccurate time. This week it was wrong on three of the mornings I went into work, stopped at midnight and two in the morning (or possibly afternoon). I live in a city where the council doesn’t even know what time it is. And possibly run by people so ugly their faces can stop clocks.
Up is bloody brilliant. Not as good as the Incredibles or Wall-E, but head and shoulders above most films. It’s genuinely touching, depressing and uplifting, beautifully animated and terse and pacy. Once again Pixar have opened up a gap on their competitors when it comes to quality of animation, knowing when to hit us with incredibly detailed textures and polygon rich scenes, and when to use the simple quality of their design. More than ever they seem to perfectly realise their vision, and their only limitation if their (very high) standard of writing.
Last weekend I saw Davod for the first time in over a year and saw his son for the first time. I saw people that I haven’t seen in years and spent the time explaining who I was. I feel I look the same but I have mellowed a lot. Or it could be I am not memorable. Juliette looks just like I remember her. She hasn’t aged a day in 8 years, even after the baby. Davod looks the same as his dad, just with fewer white hairs. His sister looks an elfin teen. I felt undistinguished and liable to age badly.
I have upgraded the computer. I may go into it in detail (mind numbing, spirit crushing detail at that) later, but the basics are:
Many SATA 2 drives have the facility (through jumper settings) to allow the user to force them to work as SATA 1 drives, this means they are effectively backwards compatible with a lower data transfer rate without corruption while enabling you to reuse them when the motherboard is finally replaced.
I have read a lot on short stroking. By using the higher capacity of a drive at an exterior edge compared to the inner portion of the drive for distance traveled by drive head I can get much faster seek and transfer times for data. Oddly Windows loading doesn’t benefit massively from this. Loading applications within Windows and general responsiveness does benefit though. Some programs load instantaneously and typing faster than the refresh of the computer can handle is a thing of the past.
Dual boot Ubuntu. Which I will be taking advantage of once I have an internet connection working with it. The idea of being able to code PHP and see the effect instantly appeals to me greatly. I know a WAMP implementation is possible but it feels more right, more proper, this way.
Google Sketch now works. A soft benefit as much as anything else.
I bet on Middlesbrough to stay up. I thought 16 to 1 was impossibly generous odds for such a result. They weren’t.
I saw Crank: High Voltage tonight. Whereas Crank was a pure action film, stupid and adrenaline fueled, Crank 2 is an altogether more insane beast. Starting with an altogether more improbable premise and afforded a budget which allows it to indulge it’s madder whims. This isn’t an action film, it’s a full blown acid trip that I would recommend to anyone. Anyone who isn’t offended by anything. Or squeamish. Or inclined to actually think about narrative structure or logic.
The cinema was virtually empty. A couple who no doubt intended it as a date movie left within minutes. Weak stomachs or a lack of sense of humour, the film didn’t even get going till after they had gone. In the rafters two girls laughed like drains. I was reminded of the time we went to see From Dusk to Dawn and stumbled across a pensioners’ day out at the cinema. Disapproving tuts to our every guffaw . . . .
The recurring soap opera at work inches forward. Apparently someone I tangentially knew (but strongly disliked) used to work where I do. And died of a heart attack. In the office. I shall find a delicate (not at all) way to ask about it.
The Post Office down the road is for sale and I have seen the listing. The asking price is 113,500 pounds. Apparently the weekly turnover is 5,000 pounds and the stipend for being a post office is 33,000 pounds per year. Something in those figures does not add up. At all.
Toni and Guy in Bradford appears to be closing. Where will the chic denizens of this multi cultural and cultured metropolis go for sleek bobs and avant garde hair now?
I seek to start unsubstantiated rumours it will be replaced by a shop selling naught but Kappa, LaCoste and velvet tracksuits. Or do I mean velour?