There are as many types of programs on TV these days as there are stars out on a clear moonless night, from documentaries and journalistic truth-seekers, to soap operas of one kind or another, to Talk Shows and its latest variation, part of the all-new, all-improved Generation-Zzzz programming, reality television.
Archive for the “blogging reduces brain size” CategoryI am old enough to remember when KFC was Kentucky Freid Chicken, when Colonel Saunders hawked his “secret recipe” fried chicken. Back then, in 70s Singapore, there was no concept of fast food, partly because as a child growing up, I didn’t know what “fine dining” meant. I don’t recall why I liked Kentucky Fried Chicken, as, looking back, none of the advertising was specifically targetted to kids, although I do remember the appeal of its “finger lickin’ goodness”. I always imagined old Harland Sanders - the title is honorary - as an enlightened plantation owner who stole his recipe from one of the slaves. Not that this stopped me from liking them chickens: he probably shared his profits, right? Allow me to indulge myself in a rant. One of the reasons why this site has seen little activity is due to the near completion of my new abode, The Berth. It is the first development on Sentosa, an island off Singapore. Unfortunately, the excitement in anticipation of finally moving into my apartment is being negated - daily - by those who hawk themselves as “interior designers”. The situation is dire indeed. Their first failing is simply not listening. This is what is desired, but that is what is delivered. I suspect this lack of understanding is not totally ill-intended, but a result of an inability to conceive of what a non-Singapore residence means. Their template has been cast, their thinking, their creativity can be measured not in leaps and bounds, but in millimeters, as their crawl their way through pages of countless magazines in seach of what carries weight in the market. All different but yet all the same. This is no bad thing if the typical Singapore apartment or house is the pinnacle of style, the embodiment of aesthetic living. This is not the case. I shudder at the thought of these hideous, hideous domiciles and the impact they exert on the creatures living within them. Always the 42″ plasma TV, king of the living room; always the Zen/Resort feel, a perennial longing for something that their rat-race lives demands as meagre compensation, only to elude them; or, always the gaudy curtains and the little items of individation that litter the place, suffocating space. The third failing is of course quite understandable. It is their inter-linking with contractors who implement their “vision”. Virtually all of these interior design companies, or “space planners”, are glorified contractors. They are the front end of a very base chain. Hence their preference to design and construct homes which are flooded with needless feature walls, raised platforms, where embellishments and profits take centre-stage instead of good taste. And so … until the next update, when I shall report on the results of my own designs! How difficult can it be? The recent, indecent flurry of blogging activity can be solely attributed to the “7×7 meme”; as its waves cascade around the internet like a virulent virus bent on instigating all forms of havoc on privacy, state institutions tremble before it. Of the challenged, three have participated, with varying doses of glee and dread. Thank you! With Susan Henderson, I share a fondness for Gabriel Garcia Marquez, “Withnail and I”, and Victor Frankl. I listen to the “Seven things she says” and learn of her passion. Thankfully, I can park better. Malefactor at fortycalibernap imaginatively spins 7 pictures amdist the meme. Though we are travelling toward the same destination, he has a better grasp of the “how” (love). His “Seven things I say” prompts me to dial a magical number and hold a proper conversation with him. As rob (at history: other) mentions his other half, I dream of her. Thankfully, I’m on the other side of the world. His is a quite eclectic selection of books. Alas, my friend Nick (Mister Hornby to the rest of you) has remained silent, so I nominate Blog Meridian as his substitute. Normal service will now resume. An incidental gesture motions change. A pre-destined force motions change. Rochenko has memed me thusly: Seven things to do before I die Appropriately, much of this came to mind during today’s brush with the dental technician.
Seven things I cannot do
Seven things that attract me to … my Other Half Appropriately, this fell during Valentine’s dinner. She is
Seven things I say
It seems I don’t have a catch-phrase to call my own. Seven books I love This should overwhelm me. And it does (notwithstanding this caveat)
Seven movies that I’ve loved
(This doesn’t take into account the finer distinction between movies and films) infinite thought just got one, so I get to spread good cheer to these folks:
Susan Henderson, over at her site, is conducting a pop quiz of sorts. I’ve been amazed at the quality of visitors to her site. Here are just some of the many different, quirky and beautiful sites that I’ve come to enjoy, thanks to her efforts.
Note that these tend to be sites that exhibit blogging tendencies - forgive me. There are others, from designers, film-makers, poets, writers, literary journals, nuts, that are worth visiting, too. By the way, if you haven’t already been there or heard about it, you might want to urgently click your way to Overheard in New York, a site that reports exactly that, with gems such as:
Or this one:
and another thing …Here’s what I get for surfing the net. It’s an entire community of like-minded independent women. Mercurial Girl and overworked and underf*cked are pretty decent reads. One of the greatest blessings of the internet is the creation of alternative distribution channels for the
“Intellectually positioned”? What does that mean? I want to earn $1, dammit, and before the euro appreciates. It goes on:
So the question of being “intellectually positioned” basically requires (apart from the actual ability to read, of course) that one 1. does not suffer from ADD, or at least only suffer from its mildest forms. Let’s see how this translates in action. For example, this is the allreaders.com entry on Antony Loyd’s My war gone by, I miss it so. Yeah, I guess that’s just about worth a dollar, but Antony Loyd surely deserves better. Better still, visit ReadySteadyBook. Tags are all the rage, eh? Everywhere we click, there it is. But this post isn’t about “tags”, but the uses to which these things are put to. Visit technorati.com or the ever popular del.icio.us and you are confronted by a list of what is popular, which term is most searched for, lusted after. Indeed, the premise underlying del.icio.us is that “the rule” rules - much like the recent book by James Surowiecki (Wisdom of the Crowds My unending gratitude goes to the person who can conceptualise and bring to the net the least sought after, most over-looked issue relative to the times. You know, things like “justice”, “truthfulness” and such like. I love the Danes. While all about are losing theirs, our friendly friends from frosty fields find themselves in a bit of a pickle. The Copenhagen Post reports:
This all stems from a government report published some years ago, entitled “Sexuality - Regardless of Handicap”. One of the paper’s tenets is that “sexual health is a basic human right”. Given this, it becomes part of the social worker’s role to (ahem) service the disabled’s sexual needs.
Not far behind the thrust of Social Democrats, of course, comes Stig Langvad, chairman for the Confederation of Special Needs Organisations:
Great place, eh? The question is not so much how it is that the state can reconcile the protection of women (particular rights) and sexual needs (human rights), even less whether social workers should get a percentage of earnings - as do pimps; rather, the issue is whether or not horniness is in itself a disability. Further reading: The little one has been busy working on the site. Moved by cajoles, strained by a lack of nicotine and forcefully driven to the arms of unsociability, what’s left of my self is found here. Little of the old site remains, and what remains has been re-cast in alternative form, in part as a response to the decay of the web; especially the weblog, that intersection of personal space and public forum, continues to transform itself so much so that it challenges writing, perhaps eventually to render writing obsolete. That possibility has been the biggest force of change. What is the nature of this imperceptible yet tectonic shift? Such is the transformation, it appears blogging does indeed significantly reduce brain size. Surely blogging - and websites in general - is more than the sum of HTML code and CSS dressing; but equally it must be less than the excess of stream-of-consciousness rants that pepper the web. We’ve known this for some time, of course, at least intuitively and though we are loath to admit it. The more we blog, the dimmer we become. How else to explain this irresistable urge to tap, tap, tap away on our keyboard late into the night regurgitating the minutae of our day’s passing? To be sure, this is but one aspect of the perennial question: is techonology and technological change always already assimilated into our existing cultural condition, instead of being a motor for a dash of revolution? So what of the future of the blog? This is a question in progress, a work without fixed co-ordinates or a preconceived destination. Love it or loathe it, that’s one item on this site’s agenda. Let’s go beyond the blog. |
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). The return of the 
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