Busy days ahead. Had a lovely phonecall on Friday, now I have a job, but the few weeks I have before the start date will now be dedicated to making a very concentrated effort to get myself the hell out of Castleford once and for all.
Not that I don't like Cas, don't get me wrong. It's a lovely place if you go to the right areas, same as most other areas, but if you took out Xscape and Junction 32, I'm not honestly sure that there'd be any reason to come here. I... suppose we have a Burberry factory, if you're into that kind of thing.
Actually, they might just sell white trainers... no! No, I need to save money.
Ambition. It's a powerful force for something without any physical form. I think it might be one of those things that I can safely categorise under "emotions" and then kind of ignore, because while I can understand my computer, understanding people is sometimes next to impossible.
Seriously, humanity needs a manual. Or a... personual, for the PC generation.
*bu-dum psssch*
Ambition (and its good personal friend inspiration) is a funny thing. It drives people to conquer nations, build terrifying weapons and incite riots, but also to cure diseases, advance the total sum of human knowledge and invent new pasta sauces. I'd like to know if it's a product of your environment, though, or more something you're born with.
I mean, you get some people who are born into families who've built a huge personal fortune around hard work and good ideas, they've got masses of ambition around them all day, but some decide to live off of the success of everyone else. You get others that drag themselves up by their bootstraps from nothing to really do rather well for themselves. It seems like one of the few things where a positive environment has a negative effect (everything's fine, why should I bother to make an effort?) and a negative environment has a positive effect (I'm going to make some changes, here, I know it can be better). Well, kinda. It's hard to put into words, I suppose. That's why I favour wild, meaningless gestures; the confusion sort of conveys what I'm actually thinking at the time.
Ooh, a semicolon! I don't think I've ever used one of those before.
I like to think that really, people are born with a drive to do things. You can try to influence their development, yeah, make them keen on learning or sports or something and hope they'll make a solid career, but if being a student has taught me anything, it's that once people stop forcing you to learn, once you start having to make a career and a life for yourself, motivation starts to come a little easier.
It's a fickle thing, ambition. It's there when you need it sometimes, other times it goes away when you're desperate, or makes you really, really keen to get mundane things done. I know my own personal muse likes to operate through the medium of MMORPGs and 90s console games. I'm not surprised. I'd have been upset if my entire brain wasn't fairly dedicated to this whole geek lifestyle I've got going on.
I mean, I'd hate to think I'm repressing a large portion of my mind. It might get angry and rebel. There's already enough going through my head, I don't need any part of it to get angry and start shouting.
Metaphorically, at least.
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Monday, 22 September 2008
Wordsmithery
I quite enjoy this writing lark. I really do. I think it's maybe because I like stories, really. I mean, the world's far too large to see and do everything, makes me sad to think of it sometimes, but there's just not enough space in a human life to try everything, so the best you have to go on sometimes is the accounts of other people.
Now, there's TV. TV is fine, you can see some heavily edited footage that shows you a perfect visual representation of something, but it's lousy at conveying feelings. Get a person who's been there and is REALLY passionate about having done it, sit them down and get them to talk about it for 10 minutes. There's a lot more... eh, I don't like to use such a nebulous term as saying there's more soul to it, but honestly, I rather think there is.
However, through the loss of storytelling, the selling of it to major Hollywood motion picture companies and TV studios, we've also lost the art of something much more noble. The art of exaggeration and outright lies.
When the fisherman comes home to his grandkids and they ask about what he caught, does he say "well, 3 trout. Not much, really" or does he say "3 fish, but the one that got away? It was the size of a B52 bomber! Did I ever tell you about my time in the RAF...". Lies and exaggeration, they're far more exciting, especially when you're a kid. There's an art to it, I think, giving people just enough bull that they don't think it's too far fetched, that they don't ask difficult questions that you can't answer but enough that the story is still fairly fantastic. And honestly, so long as its nothing malicious, so long as the stories aren't going to put any dangerous or hurtful ideas in people's heads, I'm all for it. I know my childhood was a lot more magical for having thought that there was a Santa and that my dad stood one Christmas morning at the front door, saying goodbye to him.
Life's difficult, sometimes. We go through things on a daily basis that test us on so many physical, mental and emotional levels, so sometimes it's important to just have a little outlet, to have this world where the magical, impossible things still happen. It's a shame that my grandparents aren't around, my grandad was always game for a laugh, but my dad's a fair source of some pretty wild stories. I just hope that, in years to come and if I ever have kids, I can be as genuinely interesting to my kids. Maybe I'll inspire as many dreams as my folks did for me when I was little.
I guess that's why I'll never stop being a kid. It's so much more fulfilling than growing up. Nothing's changed, really, except now I can drink booze and coffee and nobody can tell me that I can't have any sweets.
It might also be why all my favourite jokes take about 5 minutes to tell (by which point I think most people have forgotten what I was talking about). Most of it's in the telling, for me. Or why I laugh a lot harder in person than I do online.
Now, there's TV. TV is fine, you can see some heavily edited footage that shows you a perfect visual representation of something, but it's lousy at conveying feelings. Get a person who's been there and is REALLY passionate about having done it, sit them down and get them to talk about it for 10 minutes. There's a lot more... eh, I don't like to use such a nebulous term as saying there's more soul to it, but honestly, I rather think there is.
However, through the loss of storytelling, the selling of it to major Hollywood motion picture companies and TV studios, we've also lost the art of something much more noble. The art of exaggeration and outright lies.
When the fisherman comes home to his grandkids and they ask about what he caught, does he say "well, 3 trout. Not much, really" or does he say "3 fish, but the one that got away? It was the size of a B52 bomber! Did I ever tell you about my time in the RAF...". Lies and exaggeration, they're far more exciting, especially when you're a kid. There's an art to it, I think, giving people just enough bull that they don't think it's too far fetched, that they don't ask difficult questions that you can't answer but enough that the story is still fairly fantastic. And honestly, so long as its nothing malicious, so long as the stories aren't going to put any dangerous or hurtful ideas in people's heads, I'm all for it. I know my childhood was a lot more magical for having thought that there was a Santa and that my dad stood one Christmas morning at the front door, saying goodbye to him.
Life's difficult, sometimes. We go through things on a daily basis that test us on so many physical, mental and emotional levels, so sometimes it's important to just have a little outlet, to have this world where the magical, impossible things still happen. It's a shame that my grandparents aren't around, my grandad was always game for a laugh, but my dad's a fair source of some pretty wild stories. I just hope that, in years to come and if I ever have kids, I can be as genuinely interesting to my kids. Maybe I'll inspire as many dreams as my folks did for me when I was little.
I guess that's why I'll never stop being a kid. It's so much more fulfilling than growing up. Nothing's changed, really, except now I can drink booze and coffee and nobody can tell me that I can't have any sweets.
It might also be why all my favourite jokes take about 5 minutes to tell (by which point I think most people have forgotten what I was talking about). Most of it's in the telling, for me. Or why I laugh a lot harder in person than I do online.
Tuesday, 16 September 2008
22/M/UK
Oh yeah, on time, baby!
Well, if I ever called anyone baby. Maybe my car, but my relationship with that is rather complex.
Interviewing is a funny thing. I can't think of a single person that would ever tell you "just go in there and be completely honest about everything. BRUTALLY honest", because I've been there. I've been to maybe a dozen of the things, now, and they're mostly an exercise in relating your own personal experience to the job and little else. Not that you omit things, but you certainly never say more than anyone asks unless it's relevant.
That must sound rather sinister.
I mean, I've never told an interviewer about the time I was dumb enough to get my doughy ass dropped out of the loft, unless they ask about any periods of absence.
It occured to me today, what'd happen if we took that interview mentality to other situations? Situations where we're still trying to prove ourselves, we're still a bit nervous, but where they're still slightly different? I mean, interviews sort of confer a kind of style of thinking that you really don't find anywhere else, being that you're trying to make yourself appear as awesome as possible in under an hour.
Examples:
"Y'know, I really think we should go out. We share a mutual interest in jazz bands from the 80s and I've got some really unique skills that I, personally, believe would be of great value to this relationship. I'll keep this brief, I know you must have other applicants to see, today."
"Why do I think I should be allowed to live in your country? Well, I'm a proactive team player with a keen eye for detail. I'm very punctual and have great presentation skills, too, so I feel I'd make a great ambassador to other countries.
What? Well, I don't know your laws and foreign policies precisely, no, but it's a development opportunity that I'll address at the earliest possible time. Tell you what, think it over, call my people, we'll maybe get a contract arranged if you feel I'm the right candidate."
Y'know, I think maybe I'll make one of those online dating profiles, some day, but just post my CV up there and see what happens. If nothing else, it's a conversation starter. Although I'm not sure I'd want to really get too close to someone who was actively excited about the prospect of a partner with a keen knowledge of time management principles and methodologies, with a solid grounding on their implementation on a mobile device for a specific target demographic.
Unless... y'know, there actually IS anyone like that. Message me, I've some wonderful theories on the concept of personal effectiveness stratgies. That'll while away the long winter nights, for sure.
Well, if I ever called anyone baby. Maybe my car, but my relationship with that is rather complex.
Interviewing is a funny thing. I can't think of a single person that would ever tell you "just go in there and be completely honest about everything. BRUTALLY honest", because I've been there. I've been to maybe a dozen of the things, now, and they're mostly an exercise in relating your own personal experience to the job and little else. Not that you omit things, but you certainly never say more than anyone asks unless it's relevant.
That must sound rather sinister.
I mean, I've never told an interviewer about the time I was dumb enough to get my doughy ass dropped out of the loft, unless they ask about any periods of absence.
It occured to me today, what'd happen if we took that interview mentality to other situations? Situations where we're still trying to prove ourselves, we're still a bit nervous, but where they're still slightly different? I mean, interviews sort of confer a kind of style of thinking that you really don't find anywhere else, being that you're trying to make yourself appear as awesome as possible in under an hour.
Examples:
"Y'know, I really think we should go out. We share a mutual interest in jazz bands from the 80s and I've got some really unique skills that I, personally, believe would be of great value to this relationship. I'll keep this brief, I know you must have other applicants to see, today."
"Why do I think I should be allowed to live in your country? Well, I'm a proactive team player with a keen eye for detail. I'm very punctual and have great presentation skills, too, so I feel I'd make a great ambassador to other countries.
What? Well, I don't know your laws and foreign policies precisely, no, but it's a development opportunity that I'll address at the earliest possible time. Tell you what, think it over, call my people, we'll maybe get a contract arranged if you feel I'm the right candidate."
Y'know, I think maybe I'll make one of those online dating profiles, some day, but just post my CV up there and see what happens. If nothing else, it's a conversation starter. Although I'm not sure I'd want to really get too close to someone who was actively excited about the prospect of a partner with a keen knowledge of time management principles and methodologies, with a solid grounding on their implementation on a mobile device for a specific target demographic.
Unless... y'know, there actually IS anyone like that. Message me, I've some wonderful theories on the concept of personal effectiveness stratgies. That'll while away the long winter nights, for sure.
Thursday, 11 September 2008
On the subject of dairy bucaneers
I should apologise. I would have done this on time, I really would have. I had plans and everything. Then I had three job interviews on two consecutive days.
Problematic!
So, by request (which is a new and interesting concept), I'm providing an update on the saga of myself and ice cream pirate.
I've given my prey some thought. My dad's returned, sure, and we're eating and such, I know I've mentioned that before, but the fact remains that ice cream pirate still invades our street on occasion. I don't think it's the same one. The old one hasn't been on our street so much since I went out there and started stalking it with kitchen knives, but it was his own damned fault for being delicious in my (and my family's) time of great personal need.
But yes, there are more pirates. A band of ice cream corsairs, occasionally driving up and down our street. They seem to have advanced technologies, since as I tried to pursue one in my car, it appeared to turn a corner and completely vanish.
It is, however, coming up to early autumn. Children are not frequently out playing in the street now, so an ice cream van is not the most advised of business ventures.
This begs the question: why are they here?
Do they seek to sell frozen delights to children who aren't there?
Is it out of habit? Have they nothing more to do all day?
Have I, as a result of CERN's physics tomfoolery, fallen into a groundhog day-esque parallel dimension?
Or maybe, just maybe, it's the only possibly and rational explanation. Maybe it's that the ice cream pirates function as a small pack. A band of dairy dispensing brigands driving up and down in front of my home in a mocking parade! Thumbing their nose at my authority, at my right and duty as a man and at my very existence.
If you can read this, and I feel very much that you can (and do), know this. Your creamy reign of terror is coming to an abrupt end. I will, one day, return to the field of honour with my own band of freedom fighters. We will bring your maniacal tyranny to a close and claim your vehicle for the greater good.
For the children.
For the free spirit of man.
For BioCorp.
Actually, I think I'd rather that groundhog day thing would happen. That'd be awesome. Only I've a feeling that if I knew I could live without any consequences whatsoever, I wouldn't end up doing anything interesting. Certainly nothing you'd actually film and show to people. I mean, there would be dark and terrible things involved, but mostly I'd spend my days seeing how many speed cameras I could trigger in half an hour.
Problematic!
So, by request (which is a new and interesting concept), I'm providing an update on the saga of myself and ice cream pirate.
I've given my prey some thought. My dad's returned, sure, and we're eating and such, I know I've mentioned that before, but the fact remains that ice cream pirate still invades our street on occasion. I don't think it's the same one. The old one hasn't been on our street so much since I went out there and started stalking it with kitchen knives, but it was his own damned fault for being delicious in my (and my family's) time of great personal need.
But yes, there are more pirates. A band of ice cream corsairs, occasionally driving up and down our street. They seem to have advanced technologies, since as I tried to pursue one in my car, it appeared to turn a corner and completely vanish.
It is, however, coming up to early autumn. Children are not frequently out playing in the street now, so an ice cream van is not the most advised of business ventures.
This begs the question: why are they here?
Do they seek to sell frozen delights to children who aren't there?
Is it out of habit? Have they nothing more to do all day?
Have I, as a result of CERN's physics tomfoolery, fallen into a groundhog day-esque parallel dimension?
Or maybe, just maybe, it's the only possibly and rational explanation. Maybe it's that the ice cream pirates function as a small pack. A band of dairy dispensing brigands driving up and down in front of my home in a mocking parade! Thumbing their nose at my authority, at my right and duty as a man and at my very existence.
If you can read this, and I feel very much that you can (and do), know this. Your creamy reign of terror is coming to an abrupt end. I will, one day, return to the field of honour with my own band of freedom fighters. We will bring your maniacal tyranny to a close and claim your vehicle for the greater good.
For the children.
For the free spirit of man.
For BioCorp.
Actually, I think I'd rather that groundhog day thing would happen. That'd be awesome. Only I've a feeling that if I knew I could live without any consequences whatsoever, I wouldn't end up doing anything interesting. Certainly nothing you'd actually film and show to people. I mean, there would be dark and terrible things involved, but mostly I'd spend my days seeing how many speed cameras I could trigger in half an hour.
Sunday, 31 August 2008
A brand new day
BioCorp. Tirelessly working to ensure that you, the consumer, have nothing short of the highest standard of tyranny in your unquestioned global ruler.
Although I think I'd prefer to be a baron, when all's said and done, because that sounds much classier.
And y'know, maybe someday I'll finally get around to specifying what it is that BioCorp does. There's an evening's entertainment right there.
Might as well tackle a large issue for the start of something new, here. Might as well tackle the world. Everything. I mean, it's a peculiar thing. Go back 200 years or so, which really isn't a huge length of time, and people were still trying to drill holes in people's heads to let autism escape or selling snake oil. The world as we know it, nothing seems to stay the same from one decade to the next. Personally, I blame the Internet. Again. There's an old quote out there, something along the lines of how computers haven't made us smarter, they've just made us wrong but a lot faster. The Internet's just accelerated that even more. Now everyone can share everything they know in an instant, so everyone has to race to be the first to discover something and even if you are wrong, someone's going to hit the nail on the head eventually. I mean, alright, information sharing doesn't really work like that unless you're in open source software, but technology is spiralling out of control. Everything's moving at such a rate now that I honestly can't keep up.
And so, let's return fondly to the past:
In the old days, medicine might have actually killed you. Now, waiting for your medicine might actually kill you. I'm not sure what's preferable.
In the old days, we had stocks or tarring and feathering to humiliate people. Now we have reality TV. Except tarring and feathering probably doesn't destroy any chance you have of landing a normal job ever again because you decided to get naked one night and sing the national anthem.
In the old days, all people wanted was the technology to improve their lives. Now, a surprising amount of people seem to want to go back to the past. Medieval re-enactments, Victorian murder mystery weekend, ren fairs and such.
In the old days, little would have made a musician happier than for the world to hear their music. Now, they try to sue you into submission for using download services.
Maybe things really don't change that much. Maybe we're all just crazy, but in a different setting and with more inventive ways to blow ourselves up.
I do sometimes wonder if it wouldn't be interesting to at least see the past world, if only for a while. There's so much we're losing by progressing as far as we have. The art of conversation, the ability to actually relax. I mean, the fact that people have to actually schedule time out of their lives to properly relax, that you have to book your quiet time, that's terrifying. But I think what I'll miss most of all is the names. People in the past got all the cool ones. They had planets named after gods, things like excalibur, triremes and such. And what do we have now? Phones4u, a town named half.com and football stadiums named after beer.
But the future. I really don't know what to say, there. We've gone from being very British (granted, we were making a good go of conquering the known world), slightly posh and uptight to being fairly American with industry, business and a general fast paced nature to things. It's exciting, if exhausting, but I'd like to know where we go from here. I hope it involves flying cars. I mean, everything the Jetsons taught me so far has been a lie.
Well, here's to the future, anyway, whatever it brings.
A new blog needs a new gimmick, I think. I can't do emotions, here, so let's go for alliterative blog tags.
And for reference, 80 posts worth of previous blogs are stored over at myspace.com/biospark8000. Some are good, some are bad, one is about Jesus' personal truck. It was quite astonishing to see.
Although I think I'd prefer to be a baron, when all's said and done, because that sounds much classier.
And y'know, maybe someday I'll finally get around to specifying what it is that BioCorp does. There's an evening's entertainment right there.
Might as well tackle a large issue for the start of something new, here. Might as well tackle the world. Everything. I mean, it's a peculiar thing. Go back 200 years or so, which really isn't a huge length of time, and people were still trying to drill holes in people's heads to let autism escape or selling snake oil. The world as we know it, nothing seems to stay the same from one decade to the next. Personally, I blame the Internet. Again. There's an old quote out there, something along the lines of how computers haven't made us smarter, they've just made us wrong but a lot faster. The Internet's just accelerated that even more. Now everyone can share everything they know in an instant, so everyone has to race to be the first to discover something and even if you are wrong, someone's going to hit the nail on the head eventually. I mean, alright, information sharing doesn't really work like that unless you're in open source software, but technology is spiralling out of control. Everything's moving at such a rate now that I honestly can't keep up.
And so, let's return fondly to the past:
In the old days, medicine might have actually killed you. Now, waiting for your medicine might actually kill you. I'm not sure what's preferable.
In the old days, we had stocks or tarring and feathering to humiliate people. Now we have reality TV. Except tarring and feathering probably doesn't destroy any chance you have of landing a normal job ever again because you decided to get naked one night and sing the national anthem.
In the old days, all people wanted was the technology to improve their lives. Now, a surprising amount of people seem to want to go back to the past. Medieval re-enactments, Victorian murder mystery weekend, ren fairs and such.
In the old days, little would have made a musician happier than for the world to hear their music. Now, they try to sue you into submission for using download services.
Maybe things really don't change that much. Maybe we're all just crazy, but in a different setting and with more inventive ways to blow ourselves up.
I do sometimes wonder if it wouldn't be interesting to at least see the past world, if only for a while. There's so much we're losing by progressing as far as we have. The art of conversation, the ability to actually relax. I mean, the fact that people have to actually schedule time out of their lives to properly relax, that you have to book your quiet time, that's terrifying. But I think what I'll miss most of all is the names. People in the past got all the cool ones. They had planets named after gods, things like excalibur, triremes and such. And what do we have now? Phones4u, a town named half.com and football stadiums named after beer.
But the future. I really don't know what to say, there. We've gone from being very British (granted, we were making a good go of conquering the known world), slightly posh and uptight to being fairly American with industry, business and a general fast paced nature to things. It's exciting, if exhausting, but I'd like to know where we go from here. I hope it involves flying cars. I mean, everything the Jetsons taught me so far has been a lie.
Well, here's to the future, anyway, whatever it brings.
A new blog needs a new gimmick, I think. I can't do emotions, here, so let's go for alliterative blog tags.
And for reference, 80 posts worth of previous blogs are stored over at myspace.com/biospark8000. Some are good, some are bad, one is about Jesus' personal truck. It was quite astonishing to see.
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