Life in St A (& in general)

Moving on

2009-04-05T23:22:00.002Z

Dearest reader(s),

I have finished my PhD! I have submitted my thesis! I have... No, I haven't passed my viva yet so I'm not a doctor (of philosophy, and there's a strange title for you however you want to look at it). But I'm done. Done.

*sniff*

Emotions aside, besides moving on with my life I'm also moving on to a new blog. This has been nice and all, and I will think fondly back on all those small hours of the night where I blogged in a frozen house somewhere in the wastelands of Scotland (will I? Nope).

But on we must go. Why?

A fresh beginning, a clean slate.

A change of style (less misery hopefully).

Practicalities.

In any case you can now find me here from now on. This blog will eventually self-destruct, so take all your luggage and personal belongings before alighting this site.

I'm alive again! I am free! Praise Cthulhu and all the Old Ones! Yippeeeeee!

(runs away screaming madly from the ivory tower of academia, only to return as a member of staff)

Why I ain't been a-posting

2009-02-09T10:32:00.003Z

There comes a time in a PhD student's life when all his hard work of many years, all the efforts, all the sweat, blodd and tears, all the failed attempts and happy moments, the emotional rollercoaster ride that is a PhD must be summarised in a few pages.

A few meaning a lot.

I'm aiming for <200, so maybe not that many, but still a lot for me.

Whatever.

In other words, I've been writing up. Since mid-January to be precise, and I have until the end of March (firm deadline, no extensions, no worming my way out of this one).

It's not necessarily that I don't want to post something; au contraire, whenever I have to do some work my creativity flares up to prevent me from doing it - hence I suppose I'm writing this now instead of an introduction to two-photon absorption (you don't want to know).

But I'm really trying hard not to. Obviously not hard enough, but come on, give the man some credit. Me, I'm the man. Who da man? I'm da man. Word. And word to your motha.

Anyway (ahem), with this and that I haven't been posting and I sincerely hope that my next post will be in April.

(In the same way that I sincerely hope that - oh never mind)

Later dudes.

BBC rulez once more

2009-01-26T12:52:00.007Z

Sometimes little pieces of unfiltered information and not-so-PC images make their way through the BBC's maze of filters and censors, resulting in brilliant articles accompanied by equally brilliant photos such as this.

But since the guardians of decorum and high standrads might alter the photo (which to me at least is the photo to go with such an article), here's what I'm talking about.

Pure class from someone at the BBC, well done! The Gods of 70s porn smile kindly upon you today.

Revelation

2008-12-03T00:21:00.004Z

I saw God today.

God was in Tesco. He looked at me when I walked by the magazine aisle mumbling to myself. I did not see Him then.

But God was waiting for me at the self-service checkout. When my item was not recognised in the bagging area, She came and helped me get through it.

Or was that the Devil?

I saw the Devil today. She was in Costa standing in front of me in the line and corrected the cashier when she charged me 2 pounds instead of 1.70. When the cashier did not understand, the Devil spoke from behind me in the queue to verify the correct price. After convincing the cashier of her mistake, She put Her hand in the tips jar and handed me back my change.

Or was that God?

I saw God today, of that I'm sure. And I also saw the Devil, clear as the I see you now. I just don't know Who was Who. I smiled and thanked Them both. And They smiled back at me.

Revelation Day.

Anticlimax comic

2008-11-26T10:11:00.001Z

Seriously guys and girls, this just rocks. If only all advice could be this accurate, good and helpful.

(From Dinosaur Comics)

Holly stories Batman!

2008-11-12T10:21:00.003Z

Motivation

2008-11-11T14:28:00.001Z

You can always try.

Another way to...

2008-11-03T15:26:00.003Z

...write lyrics.

Not making sense, let's try this again.

James Bond. Ah yes, ol' Jimbo's back with a bang and a vengeance. Nice, really nice, and I'm enjoying Bond now more than I have for a while. Great.

Jack White. Wrote the theme for this last movie, a song entitled "Another way to die". Not a very original title for a Bond song.

But.

Jack White is different. He's an Artist with a bang and a musical attitude. And this theme is f a n t a s t i c (in my own humble opinion).

The riffs.

The drums.

The vocals.

The lyrics.

That's what I want to talk about. The lyrics in this song do not simply tell a story (which on its own is becoming more and more rare music).
The lyrics are pictures. Still photos. Short descriptions of single moments in time, snapshots, pictures at an exhibition. Slick, glossy, dirty, bold, hard-hitting pictures.

"A door left open
A woman walking by
A drop in the water
A look in the eye
A phone on the table
A man on your side
Oh, someone that you think that you can trust"

This is brilliant. This is superb writing. This is a great song.

Well done Jack.

Another Way To Die (Feat. Jack White) - Alicia Keys

MJ 4 EVA

2008-10-20T08:34:00.002Z

'Nuff said.

Another one for the ol' collection...

2008-08-05T09:59:00.003Z

Napoleon Dynamite, for the ignorant..

Moby - Last night in Edinburgh

2008-07-29T09:34:00.006Z

The Liquid Rooms - worth it!

Funk-ay Monday

2008-07-21T08:51:00.002Z

One of the coolest, funkiest, awsomest songs ever!
This guy looks as cool as Sammy L. Jackson looks now, only he did that in 1974.
Twice the cool!

Moving

2008-07-04T09:20:00.002Z

There's not many things that move me these days. I find that it gets harder and harder for me to feel touched, moved, emotional even over things that happen around the world. I guess I'm just getting older, more cynical and emotionally tougher - it's called growing up I think.

And yet every now and again I do come across little bits of human activity that move me, tiny fragments of humanity floating around in the grey of everyday life that splash some colour onto the world in a way words simply cannot describe. A glimpse of what the world could be.

Go Matt.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

A day like today

2008-06-16T15:35:00.002Z

You spin me right round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round, baby right round, like a record baby round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round round

Watch out, here I come

Violet Hill

2008-06-05T09:04:00.006Z

The only sound you hear is your own breathing. Relaxed and slow, controlled, following the pace you were taught to keep. In and out through your nose to keep your mouth closed - you cannot afford to lose heat in the snow. In and out.

Pace.

Tick. Tock.

Your right eye is scanning the white landscape through the sight, following the dot as it scans over snow-covered fields and buildings, over trees and traffic lights long now extinguished, over old fire marks and holes in the ground.

Tick. Tock.

The silence is incredible when you hold your breath. Not a bird is heard, not an animal dares venture into the cold, no people around talking about clearing up the snow. No children playing. No women laughing. No cars. No footsteps.

Breathe again and you shatter the outworldly silence with your steam-engine like noises. You shift your weight slightly to ease the tension on your neck, you take your eye off the sight only for a second, you move your fingers in your woolen gloves. Close your eyes, you can close your eyes, it's only for a second.

A snowflake lands on the tip of your nose startling you. How long have you been out for? Your posture is still the same, your hand clutched around the handle of your rifle, your head is still upright. It couldn't have been more than a second and yet it could have been hours for all you know. You saw her again when you closed your eyes, didn't you? Her smile, her long fingers, her hazel eyes. It's too risky to sigh, but you can still bite your lip hard, teeth over the marks of the previous bites.

Tick. Tock.

You breathe again. You wonder if you'll even feel the bullet when it comes. You hope you'll at least hear it, a different sound in the quiet that is your reallity now.

You hope you'll feel the bullet.

You pray you'll feel the bullet.

You won't.

BlogV

2008-06-02T09:26:00.004Z

Now I've enjoyed writing in this blog as much as the next person would, had they been me and liked writing (?), but fact remains not many people read what I write on a regular basis.

I read it for sure. In fact, I read my posts every now and again and usually find them to my liking, which I suppose is a good thing. And then there's a small number of people that tend to follow some of my posts every now and again, and even leave the odd comment. Which is also good.

But what about regular readers? On a more permanent basis, perhaps? Is there a reason why this doesn't happen?

Yep.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: What I write about is just not that interesting (except the random Pingu videos).

This became perfectly clear this morning when I saw I'd received a comment from V and clicked on her blog, V's Bolivian Diary, which is just So Damn Interesting (SDI, from now on a copyrighted acronym) and so well written. I found myself reading through the posts at the same speed as I would read a good book (fast enough to make me regret buying books as I don't feel I get enough reading time for my money, for those of you unaware of my reading habits).

I'm very impressed, not to mention jealous of V's amazing experience.

But hey, I've got Jabba!

No words are needed

2008-05-28T14:51:00.000Z

Hey Bobby Marley

2008-05-08T08:39:00.008Z

Early morning in Scotland, some time in Spring.

It's cloudy and cold, and the fog is slowly covering everything under it's grey blanket, trying to hold on to that sleepy dawn feeling, when the world hovers between the land of Morpheas and the land of the living. Sheep and cows have only just started grazing in the green fields, and the first crows of the day sweep low above the fields in search of breakfast.

And on the A92 road to St Andrews, an old car is driving along around the speed limit, the little sunroof open to let the morning breeze in, spreading The Word of Bob through the sleepy towns of Fife in Scotland.

"No woman no cryyyyy..."

The Greek driving has his sunglasses on, a big smile on his face and is singing at the top of his lungs, joining his voice with the timeless Jamaican singing about the good and bad things in life. And Scotland warms up around them, just this little bit...

Daydreaming

2008-04-22T13:39:00.006Z

Here we are again, my loyal reader(s), on another fine Scottish spring day. It’s 9 degrees out there, the sun is hiding behind the clouds, and I don’t feel like working. Not at all. Bad news for science, no news for me.

Terry Wogan and The Beatles will have to wait, as today I will be talking about my recent experience in daydreaming/hallucinating – not sure which, probably both.

I was walking towards the centre of St Andrews (ha! The irony), passing by the road works to put down new tarmac on a street where it’s not really needed. I was walking slowly, hands in pockets, looking at my legs and feet moving, inhaling fresh asphalt, when the sight of Scottish pavement disappeared before my eyes.

I found myself looking at my feet in old white trainers going up to bare calves and shorts; the feeling of a t-shirt flapping around my body, and a hat on my head. My feet are kicking up pale yellow dust from the dirt road and kicking gravel as I walk. I’m hot and cold at the same time, as I’m sweating and the breeze blowing cools me down.

I can hear the sea, the constant sound of little waved breaking on rocks in the cliff just to my left, and voices from the people on the beach some distance away. I can hear the sound of old boat engines clucking their way out to sea. If I concentrate, I can just about hear the sound blowing through the patch of trees lower down in the bay, the sound of distant cicadas on those trees, I can almost feel the welcoming coolness of their shade. I’m aware of little grasshoppers doing what they do best – hopping, of course – in the road ahead of me.

I’m fourteen again, I have not a single worry in the world, and I’m on holiday in Astypalaia. I'm happy.

I blink again and the vision’s gone; I’m back in St Andrews, I’m 27 years old, I have a PhD to finish and decisions to make about my life in the near future.

Cruel and kind at the same time my mind is, giving with one hand and taking back with the other.

Back to work.

Revelation!

2008-04-10T12:25:00.001Z

I had a fantastic idea, a clear moment of realisation this morning driving into work, about a really profound and important subject.

Unfortunately I don't remember anything about it now.

Damn.

FSM, seriously?

2008-04-04T14:45:00.021Z

Well, Spring is (?) upon us, the weather is ever so slightly warmer than it was a month ago, it rains every single day and I've finally moved to a new house that rocks. It's all good in the hood then (except I still don't have broadband at home, but that's me being inefficient at organising the move, you would've though that after moving 12 time in my first two years in Scotland I would have picked up a few tricks, but no, I haven't, in the same way that I still use a lot of comas in my sentences and write in really long sentences within even longer brackets, enough now), and as such I don't feel the need to write about it (see previous post).

Today's subject will be about a subject that's ok to talk about anywhere in the world EXCEPT the US of A. Intelligent design.

No, no, don't yawn and click on the "Find next blog" button. Wait! This could be interesting for a change.

Let me first clarify my position on a key parameter of this discussion: I am a scientist.

And, to make things even worse, I am a physicist (there has to be a relevant remake of the above song for physicists. If not, dear Dandies, please...?). And I am interested in the whole Bing Bang, superstring, branes, essence of time and space, the more philosophical aspects of science if you will.

As for religious beliefs... I was brought up as a Christian, though I practice about as often as I practice exercising (my less-than-trim-but-not-obese figure helps to clarify this as "very rarely, but haven't given up completely"). So in the scale of Science vs. Religion, we know by now which way the scale tips.

It has been with great interest then that I have followed the whole intelligent design argument in the past years - I am quite late dealing with this come to think of it, aren’t I? Well, I had better things to do, such as, er, uhm, well, you know, stuff. About the whole State lawsuits on this I personally believe that, uhm, this argument is, like, and such as, South Africa and The Iraq, pointless. No further comment on this, if people want to be anal about certain things and if religious fanatics are making use of the overzealous lawsuit system in the US, that is certainly stupid but (for me) besides the point. Which is, to say, this:

Is there any point/truth/basis in this intelligent design theory?

I have heard in the past the statement that "All/most scientists that delve into the mysteries of Nature deep enough are eventually convinced of the existence of God". I cannot judge the validity of this statement. None of the scientists I have known seemed to have turned towards religion because of the results of their research, so I'm tending to write that off as an urban legend. Carl Sagan, for example, definitely upheld his own scientific beliefs until the very end, without though ever denying people their right to believe. I'm fine with this line of thinking, you believe what you want, I believe what I want, we're both happy (yay! Happy days!).

The problem starts when people start thinking of science and religion as mutually exclusive - or perhaps this should be rephrased to "science and Christianity as mutually exclusive", since I am not aware of another religion that has had such a big problem with science (feel free to correct me on this). In any case, the argument stems from this particular clash, so let's focus on this. So why should they be mutually exclusive?

Christianity states that God created the world (I won't be drawn into the "in 7 days" argument), and that's about it, He is the Alpha and the Omega, everything and anything that happens is His will. Done.

Science states that the Universe started, but we don't know how. It is because of the particular beginning that certain physical laws apply, and these laws determine how everything and anything happens. Semi-done.

Where is the mutual exclusivity then? It does not appear to be included in the above sentences, as the logical conclusion could be that, since science cannot tell us how it all started, it might as well have been God that did. As a consequence of that, certain principles apply, and all is happening according to them. God could have simply "kick-started" the Universe, and then it goes on about its way based on the initial conditions. I think a lot of people would be happy with this amalgamation of theories. I mean, why not?

The problem arises when looking at what both sides go on to support. Christians are happy to believe that God continually interferes, changes and modulates the Universe around us to serve His purpose, and that we shouldn't really bother trying to understand all this, for "He works in mysterious ways". Scientists say God isn't modulating anything, he might not even be real, seeing is believing and we will continue to look until we have proof. And that last single word perhaps summarises the key difference between the two sides.

Science needs proof. You can say what you want, make any claims you might come up with, but if you don't have proof brother, you're out; it's simply speculation.
Religion is based on faith. You do not need proof, your faith is more than enough; believing is seeing.

Faith is undisputable. You cannot present evidence against it, you cannot disprove it, you cannot offer an alternative. It is not open to different interpretations (heresy!), it does not change itself based on new facts and evidence, like science does. And that is why it is so powerful.

Back to the argument at hand. An attempt was made to dress up religious beliefs with the cloak of science through the theory of intelligent design. To summarise: science stands, but only if we accept that God is behind it all. We did evolve from amoebas, but only because God guided us. We evolved the way we did simply because God directed us so. Darwin wasn't completely wrong, but he wasn't completely right either; he forgot to attribute everything to God.

Really? I mean, really really? Since when does religion need a scientific base to support its beliefs? What about "For I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order to understand"? Nope? Has faith really become so weak in people that they start needing evidence to believe?

On the other hand, for as long as science cannot provide us with a definite answer to the Big questions, the human mind will continue to seek ("seek and you shall find"). It is quite possible that no answer can eventually be found, and certainly rather improbable that this would occur within our lifespans (prove me wrong, I would love that).

I'm a big fan of "seeing is believing", and not the other way around. It works for me, it floats my boat, and if it still leaves me with unanswered questions, I'll go on looking for an answer even harder. I might end up believing in God (properly I mean), or I might not; maybe my answer will be "it was all a cosmic accident, oh dear, we never saw that brane coming our way", or maybe it was the Flying Spaghetti Monster that started it all. No one knows for sure, though some people have their own beliefs about this, and that's alright.

People are entitled to their beliefs. Cool.
Beliefs and knowledge are two different things. Cool.
Pasta rules. Also cool.

Perhaps this quote by Carl Sagan sheds a bit of light on why people are in the end so determined to prove the existence of God in the traditional, Christian way:

"The idea that God is an oversized white male with a flowing beard, who sits in the sky and tallies the fall of every sparrow is ludicrous. But if by 'God,' one means the set of physical laws that govern the universe, then clearly there is such a God. This God is emotionally unsatisfying... it does not make much sense to pray to the law of gravity."

Now if only I could find a "Gravity Fish" picture...

It's that time of year again

2008-03-17T23:19:00.002Z

Spring is just around the corner, the grass is getting greener, baby lambs take their first steps in the world, and I'm getting ready to move yet again.

*Sigh*

Well, it has to be done, so no point in moaning about it. And although I detest packing, clearing out my stuff and unpacking at the new place, I'm actually quite looking forward to it.

However, Lady Luck has interrupted my life again, making sure things aren't easy or straightforward. You see, the house I was going to move into was sitting on a radiation hotspot. How's that for luck?

There's a lovely part of Fife, with lovely houses, lovely views, lovely gardens, lovely cars, lovely people, lovely dogs, and a large amount of lovely radium in the sea and on the lovely beach. It seems that the site of decommissioning a large number of fighter planes has been turned into a lovely (again, I know) residential area, and I can't really say I'm against that. All's fine and good, no?

No.

Back then (and I presume now as well when nobody's looking) decommissioning something (anything) meant setting it on fire and throwing it in the nearest sea/lake/river. In the case of fighter planes, that back in the day had instruments coated with radium to glow in the dark, this lead to substantial amount of burnt (i.e. unaffected) radium being dumped in the nearby bay, and then forgotten. And then some decades down the road, a random radiation levels check shows that the area is contaminated. Great.

As always, a big survey took place and, quite predictably when considering the area was prime estate location by then, showed that everything was A-OK. Provided you didn't visit the beach too often. Or grow vegetables in your garden, which might have had a few tonnes of soil removed to reduce the radiation levels. Or hold on to rocks you collected. You get the picture; even if overall the doctors say it's ok, would you trust in that? Would you knowingly live in an area running the risk that some years down the road a new report might come out that says "oops, actually, you're fucked"?

Well, I didn't. I found a new house, one that's not sitting on the outskirts of Milpitas (those of you that get it, well done, you've wasted your life watching crappy films at least as much as I have).

It is in Kirkcaldy though, and I know there are people that would prefer growing a third leg that glows in the dark to that. Oh well.

I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, don't walk your dog in Dalgety bay. Or Aberdeen. Or Torness. Or...

27

2008-03-03T21:51:00.002Z

It's strange that the two people that contacted me today (by phone/text, somehow Facebook/email just aren't the same. Sign of growing old? Note here that I am talking about people that I see something like once-twice a year. Does it make any difference? Not really) about my birthday both commented on the lack of updates on my blog. At least I found it strange, I suppose it's quite normal actually, since this is one of the ways that old friends keep in touch with me. I should apologise to everyone for being so bad at keeping in touch, but honestly it's not personal, I really am really bad at keeping in touch. So is there really a connection between me becoming 27 today (or completing the 27th year of my life, to be precise) and posting after all this time?

You guessed it, sort of.

I think it's a good time to think about a few things and, since in this blog I just think aloud, maybe to see what you, oh loyal reader, think about my thoughts. Think, think, think. I feel I should also add that I am completely sober at this point, braking from the noble tradition of drunken retrospections.

Anyway, I've always thought that if a djinni was ever to magically (or not) appear in front of me and ask me for three wishes, I'd know what to ask for two of them. I'd ask to never die, and I'd ask to always be aged 27-30 years old. Not sure about the third one, should I release the djinni from its lamp, or simply hold on to it as a last resort? Anyway, this means that I am now entering what I've always thought of as a "golden age" for myself, the age of miracles. Why now?

Well, it kind of makes sense (from a wishful point of you, I suppose) that ideally your personal peak should correspond to your physical peak, between being too young and still growing and being old and decaying (I'll agree with anyone wanting to expand this time period up to maybe 33 years old, but no lower than a year or so). It should also coincide with a point in your life where you've completed any training/education/early stages of work and are now moving towards better things. A time when you've laid the foundations of what you'll become and can decide who you want to become - or the other way around, I don't mind. It's also the golden age projected en masse by Hollywood, sports, musicians etc. It is da bomb; should be. Is it?

Again, it kind of is. No wait, am I being too hasty about this? What if you become a great writer when you're 60? A wonder-kid in violin when you're 13? Well, even though I'm sure you'll enjoy it, I think that it's a bit marginal, in terms of having the energy or maturity accordingly to fully enjoy and appreciate your success. Let us not forget that most wonderkids ended up miserable, and most old success stories didn't end up so well either. By the way, I'm not sure if I should bother supporting all this with actual facts; after all, it is my birthday, I'm gonna write as if it's my birthday, I'm gonna comment as if it's my birthday, and you know I don't give a damn if it's my birthday (amen!). So anyway I'm right on this, ok?

The magic age zone then. What does it feel being in the zone?

Good, actually. No complaints here. It helps that I've never had specific goals along the lines of "by the time I'm 28 I should have kissed a camel and ride a motorcycle naked across Turkmenistan", but in general I think it's all good. Sure, everyday life has its problems, work has its ups and downs, but come on, it is pretty good. Maybe not fantastically amazingly incredibly like-totally-wow-dude great (ah, to be riding naked through Turkmenistan...), but it's good. Rock on.

Is the grass greener on the other side?

Of course it is. You could always have more money, more friends, better weather, less problems, whatever. But I think that at this point you are aware that you're in a way sitting on the fence between two green fields, and that looking to the other side doesn't mean your side is bad. Things could be better, things could be worse, but hopefully you know what you've done in the past to improve things, so off you go.

(I've just realised that my way of thinking is so typical of a well-fed, well-taken care of western brat that cannot really complain about life, since in comparison to what is happening to the world around him, he's aaaaaalright. Hey, that's who I am, tough).

Am I going somewhere with this? Ah, yes.

I'm 27 years old, and I'm ok.

How are you today?

Season greetings

2007-12-20T11:50:00.000Z

From Wondermark (highly recommended)

Merry Christmas!

The best short comic strip ever

2007-11-26T10:19:00.001Z

From Dinosaur Comics

The people that we love

2007-11-11T01:24:00.000Z

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eSnips Social DNA

I’ve been thinking lately about how we view the people that are dear to us. I don’t mean in terms of not seeing their flaws, or painting a pretty picture of them in our heads. Maybe women tend to do that more than men, I don’t know, but being male (not to mention being myself) it’s not easy to ignore what I see, therefore making for some rather sharp critique sometimes – though I am working on it, I’m glad to say.

No, I mean about how we actually perceive the people that we love, the people that we care for. What is the image of them that we form in our heads, what is our representation of them in our minds. I do not think we can ever see people that are close to us completely objectively, we cannot see them for what they are. I think we create an image of them in our head and this is what we see every time we see them, every time we talk to them. You do not talk to your girlfriend directly, what she says gets filtered through your perception of her in your mind. You might hear her say something, but the way you interpret that depends on the image that you’ve made for her in your mind.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, though it might help to reinforce the notion that love is blind, as (to paraphrase the Gorillaz), “we don’t see with our eyes, we perceive with our minds”, hence you usually have quite a different opinion of your friend’s girlfriend/boyfriend than what they have. We use that every day and with (practically) everyone, as it makes the whole task of processing information and reacting accordingly much easier and faster. Nothing new so far, and you could have picked all this up in any basic psychology book – well, I wouldn’t know, but it sounds reasonable.

The twist in what I want to discuss here with you is the apparent (or perceived) age of those around us that we feel some affection towards. That’s right, their age.

See, this “avatar” that we create in our heads seems to me to always be somewhat younger than the people in consideration. The best example is perhaps the way parents always think of their children as being twelve years old (or there about), even if that age has long gone and their children now have families of their own. It is the same way that you might view your siblings (the younger ones, anyway), as always being ten years old – that’s how I still view my brother, for example, even though he is in university and drives his own car. This perspective is always switched on, even if we are not aware of it. Ok, it’s easy to observe this when, for example, lovers are being “cute” with each other; you know what I mean, all that “my sweet honey bunny” and stuff, where the level of communication usually drops to pre-school ages. This is, perhaps, because the grown-up world of words and grammar cannot effectively contain and convey affection, but I think this extends to other situations as well. How do you think of your loved one when she is happy (I am talking to guys here, as things are maybe different for women, do feel free to enlighten me on this), when she is laughing? Do you have this image of a strong congruent adult smiling about something amusing, or do you see a young girl smiling with all her heart and shining eyes?

One of the easiest ways to test this is to give her a sparkler. You’re out in the garden/back yard/beach/desert, and you give her a sparkler and light it (assuming she doesn’t have a phobia of them, of course; that would be just cruel). How old does she see when she’s swinging that sparkler around, when she’s just happy with something simple and fun?

What about your very best and dear friends? Do you honestly view them as grown up, well-formed, well-rounded individuals? Are you butch and manly about them, or do you feel as these are the people that you could go on a childish adventure with, to roll around in the sand playing football on a sunny day at the beach, to share your toys/DVDs/PS3s/music with as you did with your Hotweels so many years ago?

It might be, of course, that I am simply immature, that I have missed out on an important part of my personal growth and evolution, and that is why I find this normal. But if not, is it a consequence of affection that we view some people to be so much younger than us, or is it simply our paternal/maternal instincts that surface under such circumstances? Is it that we are “programmed” by thousands of years of forming families in order to survive to perceive our loved ones as children in order to awaken those instincts and reactions that will be necessary when dealing with our own children when they come?

Questions, questions...

Appearances

2007-11-08T01:28:00.001Z

...can make a difference, even if the essence is the same. Or, even better, can cause the essence to change due to more positive feelings, better vibes, happier moods and visual stimulation.
There we go then, a new, fresher and cooler look for this page. It reminds me of the Mac I'll never buy, so it's making me smile already.

Here's to new beginnings!

LOL

2007-10-22T14:12:00.000Z

Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing. He concludes by saying, "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed in an accident."

"OH DEAR GOD NO," Bush exclaims. "That's terrible!!"

His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the president sits, head in hands. Finally, the President, devastated, looks up and asks, "How many is a Brazillion??!"

(Picked it up at LOL)

By the way, if you're not easily offended, do spare a look at LOLTheist. It is teh funneh, after all...

It's official

2007-10-07T17:20:00.000Z

You're Les Miserables!

by Victor Hugo

One of the best known people in your community, you have become something of a phenomenon. People have sung about you, danced in your honor, created all manner of art in your name. And yet your story is one of failure and despair, with a few brief exceptions. A hopeless romantic, you'll never stop hoping that more good will come from your failings than is ever possible. Beware detectives and prison guards bearing vendettas.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Mood-lifter

2007-09-13T01:41:00.000Z

It doesn't happen often.

You feel down, you feel lonely, you feel terrible. The world is against you, and nothing goes your way. Out of money, out of people to talk to, out of touch with anything positive.

And then you here this one song. You've never heard it before, you only hearit for a few seconds in a TV add, on the radio, in a creperie, at the supermarket, from a car driving back.

This one song that somehow manages to magically lift your mood, makes everything seem ok, makes you want to hummmmmm, sing and whistle to it, dance to it even if you don't like dancing. A mood-lifter. A miracle.

It's happened to me twice. The first time it was Norah Jones, with "Don't know why". First time I was listening to Norah. I was on holiday, feeling ok but quite melancholic, waiting in a creperie. And then the song starts playing on the shop's CD player, and I ended up staying there until the CD was over.

This time, it's Feist's "1234". I have not the words to describe how good it makes me feel. Thank you Apple for using it in a TV add (new iPod Nano, by the way). Thank you Feist. Enjoy.

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Track details

A night in Kingsbarns

2007-09-09T01:32:00.001Z

You leave your house on a clear, starry night

You leave behind the burning lights of the cities of men

You let the starlight bathe you, washing the day clean off

You find the horizon by looking at the moonrise

You lie down, amongst the blades of high grass

You choose you favourite constellation, your mind follows its patterns

And you blast off into space

It's only you now, and the thoughts you choose to carry with you.

I'm back

2007-08-23T10:40:00.000Z

I've been away on holiday for the past couple of weeks. Spent a very relaxing, refreshing and much-needed holiday in Malta - Gozo, actually. Fun times.
However, I am now back in St A and, let me tell you folks, it is not good here.

(You can say that again)

I will. It is not good here.
Given that I'm still holiday-lagged, I'll talk about, er, stuff in a future post.

Until then, try to keep one thing in mind:

DO NOT, under any circumstances, believe the Braveheart propaganda about Scotland. Take my word for it, ok?

Ye've been warned, arr...

PS: This has got to be, by far, the most boring post I've ever published in my (blogging) life.

The King of Dust

2007-07-29T19:09:00.000Z

I, the small lamb of God
forgotten in the South, born elsewhere
I know Troy will always be miles away
and beautiful Helen will now be old
I come out into the street sworn to enter
in Sun’s palaces, to be able to speak
the song of the goat with a murderous voice
and to cry afterwards, to disappear in silence

The King of Dust

Years will go by, the wheel will turn
everything will be like it began, everything will be different
I’ll be looking for you in the roads that you roamed but you
will have become a shadow, everything will have been lost
On one night, the Moon will shine crazy
your shadow will spread onto a narrow road
the travels, the friends, the hugs, the kisses
in a world I will enter far away, far away

The King of Dust

From the Year of the Dragon years have gone by
you might not remember anything
but the wheel of life turns eternally
and once the snow melts
you’ll come find me

The King of Dust

Ksylina Spathia - O Vasilias tis Skonis
(Wooden Swords - The King of Dust)

No last orders

2007-07-17T23:32:00.000Z

Inside my heart, or maybe it's inside my brain, there is a big room. Come on in, take a look around, see if there's anything you like.
It's a big room, with wood on the walls, with big french windows and a view that's completely irrelevant; for what it's worth, it's a sea view, from high up on a cliff, looking out into the ocean. There's a big fireplace in the room, and some old photos up on the walls. All of the photos are of my friends of old, of people I came close to, if only for a while. The room is for my friends. There's a nice armchair for every one of them, worn out but still comfortable. There are sofas and pool tables, there's a bar in one corner with all the drinks we might ever need, there's a phone to order something to eat. There's cheap ashtrays on low tables, there's a deck of cards, there's a backgammon board with heavy chipped counters, there's an old CD player with only one speaker.
There's dust everywhere, and some of the chairs are now as if of marble with the dust of years masking their true colours. The room no longer looks inviting, but I'm still sitting there, saying hello to those that come in and go out. Chairs come in, but they don't go out. Even if the people are gone, there's always a chair left behind for them, there's still a photo of them on the wall. And their favourite drink is still available in the bar. And there's no last orders.

Thinking...

2007-07-09T22:56:00.000Z

For some reason, I just can't seem to produce something positive/worth reading in this blog anymore. My negative, depressed side seems to come out when writing in English. And although this is very interesting in psychological terms, as it probably points towards the general frame of being in the UK as the reason for my bad moods, that is not the point.

The point is, I'm a bit bored of this blog. I can't think of anything interesting to write in it. I've even thought about turning it into a photoblog, but somehow... not. (Samuel Jackson becomes Shaft as I'm writing this, how bizarre. Here I am, talking about the need to re-invent this blog, and an actor puts up a mean, exciting look on the TV).

Why don't I just shut it down? Well, besdides the millions of loyal fans that will be disapointed, I still feel the need to write in it, as I'm doing now. Even if I have nothing to write about, I still feel the need to write about having nothing to write about. Perhaps this blog will have a place one day on a research piece about the art of writing for prolonged periods of time without actually writing anything.

But hey, not all is lost. As I found out today, even shit can look nice.

How about that... Well, I think so.

Surreal

2007-07-02T22:59:00.000Z

There is a Nicholas Cage film in which he doesn't actually ruin the movie just by being in it (has happened, in The Family Man); he's actually really good in it.

There are palm trees outside my department in Scotland, and they last throughout the winter.

Flying across different climates. You get in a plane and it's freezing cold, you get off it an hour later and it's boiling.

Arguing with people close to you. It just doesn't seem real.

Another song

2007-06-25T20:06:00.000Z

Sometimes it doesn't matter where you are, what you've done, what brought you there or what you might think you've achieved. Life has a way of hitiing you hard and reminding you who's the boss, and you're left with a memory of times gone by, of better things, a bump on your head and blurry vision.

Did someone call my name?
like a distant drum is beating
or is it just another dream along of long ago?
I dance again I am spinning
In the light I am living
and I can feel the power rushing through my veins
once upon a time I could do no wrong
for the candle flickers, the flame is never gone

to my brilliant feat
they all pay heed
I hear the crowds roar oh so loudly

is it a game of chance
or merely circumstances
a jack to a king and back
then you have to pay to play
the world it won't wait for you
its got its own things to do
the sun's gotta rise and drive another night away
and as i listen to the silence
i can hear thunder in the distance

to my brilliant feat
they all pay heed
I hear the crowds roar oh so loudly

to my brilliant feat
i make grown men weep
and still my eyes grow oh so cloudy

Colin Hay - My Brilliant Feat

It's probably that phrase, "once upon a time I could do no wrong", that lingers in my head. Things seemed right, what you did was never wrong, it was simply a choice, a vessel to travel you down another river. It seems to be getting more and more complicating; no decision is simple, no choice is clear, and no one can advise you anymore. You no longer ride upon vessels, you swim yourself, sometimes against the currents that want to take you where you don't really want to go. And you always have to think about wether or not you
should swim this time, or if it's better to just stand on the shore, watching other people go by.
I've become sadly very good at standing idle and watching, or hitching rides on other people's backs. And that's when life just kicks me in the back and sends me swimming, only I'm no longer prepared for it. I've always gone with the flow, but now it seems I cannot afford to do so.
It remains to be seen just how much water I'll end up with in my lungs this time.

No Baywatch for me. No prayers for me. No waiting for me. Time to swim.

It's been a while...

2007-06-21T23:19:00.000Z

...but here I am again, stomach clenched, heart pounding, exhausted, shivering, and yet sleep will not have mercy on me.
I vaguely recall the time when stress wasn't a problem for me, when I could sleep whenever and wherever I wanted to, when I woulnd't wake up in the middle of the night with a feeling of terror, when I could just switch myself off and get some rest.
I feel like crying. The sound of glass grinding against glass fills my head.

Aaaargh!

2007-06-21T19:35:00.001Z

I've been writing a new post for the past 15 minutes and Blogger just deleted everything.
Now you will never know what I wanted to say.

I'm so sad for you...

Ah, yes...

2007-06-20T16:45:00.000Z

Finally, my broadband is now working! Not too bad, only took 3 weeks or so... This doesn't necessarily mean I'll be posting more often here, but my photo site will probably benefit.
In other news, I find myself completely deprived of any sirt of philosophical, metaphysical or artistic thoughts, I'm feeling so much down-to-the-ground I could be Earthworm Jim (anyone remember that, or am I the only person that actually enjoyed that game?).
To balance that out though, my dreams have been going bananas - again. I dream of floods, swimming wild boars, old acquaintances, bridges miles high into the sky over ominous waters, flying, people trapped in cars underwater, leadership decisions, tribal customs... I suppose my mind needs this far-flung aspect of life to balance itself out, hence the dreams. But overall, I think a large part of my imagination is gone - temporarily, I hope, but you can never be certain about such things.

Anyway, time to leave the internet at work and head for the internet at home.

Yay. The excitement. Not.

Today

2007-06-11T09:15:00.000Z

Well, today is a typical Coldplay day. It's rather cold, the clouds are low, the harr (local type of fog) is in, it's drizzling and I'm sleepy. The only way of feeling any better and coping with the day is to stay in, keep yourself warm and cosy, and listen to Coldplay until you fall asleep (shouldn't take more than 10 minutes). Another day dealt with successfully.

Except I'm in work.

Oh, and just a random comment, but I really need to get this one out there. It's about Spanish films.

Spanish films can be split into two categories, which include practically 99% of all spanish movies:
a) About the time when Franko was about, and the civil war, or
b) About drug addicts/prostitutes/homosexuals/any combination of those.

There you have it.

I read the news today, oh boy

2007-06-04T12:05:00.000Z

From the BBC website:

"US military pondered love not war
The US military investigated building a "gay bomb", which would make enemy soldiers "sexually irresistible" to each other, government papers say. (…) The plan for a so-called "love bomb" envisaged an aphrodisiac chemical that would provoke widespread homosexual behaviour among troops, causing what the military called a "distasteful but completely non-lethal" blow to morale."

...?

First of all (to get it out of the way):
Hahahahahahahahahaaaaa! Haaaaaaaaaahahahahahahaha!!! Hahaha! Ha… Haha. Ehm… Ha! Haha!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Moving on… Not sure if I should be laughing or not. There are other suggestions in that article that are not so funny and it makes you wonder what else might be hiding in a drawer somewhere in the world.

But seriously: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!

And as the Beatles have sang in the past...

I read the news today, oh boy
About a lucky man who made the grade
And though the news was rather sad
Well, i just had to laugh...

"A day in the life"

Consumer power

2007-05-21T09:54:00.000Z

Some times I cannot help but stand in awe of the amazing power of the stupidity of people...

For those of you that cannot be bothered to follow the link: The company that makes Mars bars (yes this is the kind of level of news I'll be dealing with today) came up some days ago and said that their Mars bars would no longer be suitable for vegetarians because one of their minor ingredients (which doesn't sound as anything naturally found in a chocolate bar anyway) would be substituted by something that once bore a fleeing resemblance to an animal by-product; as a consequence, the strict vegetarians might want to avoid it, but we trust that blah blah blah.

Keep in mind that we are talking about a Mars bar. A product so unhealthy that the Scottish people deep-fry it in fat and eat it when drunk - we're talking bad here. About 6000 calories per bar, fats, sugar, preservatives, you name it, it's in it. And vegetarians won't be able to eat it anymore. Cheers all around, another one bites the dust, right?

No. Not really. The Vegetarian Society organised a campaign against the change of ingredient, and the company's spokesperson said "It became very clear, very quickly that we had made a mistake, for which I am sorry". Anyone else feel like screaming?

What the hell? Correct me if I'm wrong, but in an age that we're banning smoking, trying to fight drug abuse and Tesco makes 625 TV ads about minding how much salt is in every slice of Tesco Italian Pizza Pappa Paolo Puccini, the vegetarians complain because they cannot stuff their arteries with cholesterol and their bodies with fat? And sure, it's their choice, but at the same time these 6000 people that signed the petition about the Mars bar will also talk about how healthier a vegetarian diet is, how meat is bad (uhm-kay?), and at the same time devour their vegetarian Mars bars and feeling good about themselves! Great! Mars is giving you a valid reason to eat less crap every day, and you just connect your feeding tube to the sewer! Well done!

How many people have signed a petition against poverty in UK cities? How many people have signed petitions against having your whole life spied upon in this country? How many people have signed a petition to pull out of conflicts this country doesn't belong in? How many people have signed petitions against being so incredibly stupid? Bet it's not bloody 6000...

Seriously (and I claim the rights to this idea), I'd like to see guns companies coming out and saying that their fire arms are not suitable for vegetarians (because they'll switch over to using animal fat to oil them or something), and the vegetarians society organising a petition against that.

Probably in the States, right? Don't be so sure...

Moving again

2007-05-16T16:54:00.000Z

Well, it's that time of the year again when, for no apparent reason, I have to move to a new flat. If I had a penny for every time I've moved since I first came to Scotland, I'd have precisely 12 pennies. Which isn't a lot, but it comes up to about 3.5 pennies per year, which is quite respectable.

Anyway, I'm still going through the Hell that is to move your accounts and contact details to the new address. And, as anticipated by Murphy's law, the simplest one should take the longest. Therefore, the deceptively simple-looking task of moving my current broadband account to my new address (we're talking about 5 miles away here, not across the solar system) had developed to a complete and utter mess.

You'd think that all you have to do is call the provider, ask them to move it, and they either can (great) or cannot (sucks) do it. Binary systems are clear cut and easy to deal with (anyone who's ever dealt with them is hissing and spitting at me right now, maybe there is a point in that). However, my provider has a more complicated process.

You call them to have your account moved, but they don't technically move your account; rather, they cancel your existing contract, charge you cancellation fees, give you a new contract for the new address and then refund you the cancellation fees. Oh, and it takes 7 working day to cancel, 7-10 working days to connect the new account, so the whole process might actually equate a move of account, if you're lucky and you time everything with the precision of a military operation.

Only it doesn't really, because once you get through to the call centre, you speak to
a) a general advisor, who then puts you through to
b) a cancellation advisor, who then forwards you to
c) a new account advisor, who then asks you to call
d) BT because there is a problem with the line (mostly non-existent).

Each of the four steps includes a 10-minute waiting period, and given that you're in the process of moving your landline as well, Murphy will make sure that you're making those calls on your mobille and getting charged dearly for that.

JUST MOVE THE BLOODY ACCOUNT!

But then again, where's the fun (for them) in that, eh? For crying out loud, I got to the point where I, em, disfigured my laptop's keyboard (forgetting that, unlike desktops, there are vital components living under it, oops) while talking to them and trying to understand why this ridiculous procedure is not, in fact, ridiculous, but effective and reasonable. A joke of a process, it's still not done, despite me having spent 2 hours on the phone today.

And I still have to contact the electricity company to terminate my current contract, the bank to change my details (I'll tell you about the joys of dealin with a certain bank, let's name it SBR for now, in a future post), my mobile provider, my magazine subscription... Maybe I should just get a P.O. box address and be over with it. Or stop moving.

Pictures from a conference

2007-05-11T19:02:00.000Z

A research future conference, to be exact. Oh, and they're verbal pictures. Here we go...

"It's all about how to survive your own future". That was 5' into the first talk, sets the pace nicely. Just like in the Old West, the signs at the entrance of towns: "Stranger, leave all hope behind". Or so it says in Lucky Luke.

"There will be no day like this again". They meant it as a positive, about how this is a unique opportunity etc, but think about it. Technically right, potentially scary.

"Multinationalism is dead". And something else has replaced it, can't remember what though. Something fancy.

"You can go in a forest, dance around naked, and good ideas and innovations just come to you. I don't think so." Seriously, I can't add anything to that.

"Trust falls with distance". A valid point, which I think the guy used to hint why Nokia in Finland/Denmark won't really hire any of the pople attending the conference.

"I have a very nice Russian book". So, a student asks the speaker if his company hire fresh PhD students, and that phrase was included in the answer. Go figure.

The last four points were made by the same speaker. Who, by the way, was very good. In a country and age of political corectness, he was a shining beacon of honesty and, erm, sarcasm.

In other news, if you have a PhD, you'll get a job anywhere you want. Especially if you also "fit in the culture of the company" that you want to fit in, and have taken a couple of courses on time-management, you can substitute any of the leading companies' executives within 3 months from finishing your PhD - which, incidentally, can be in any area you want it to be, as it's the general menatllity, way of thinking and experience that companies want; besides a deep understanding of hyperfine multiprocessing load distribution in biologically-modified supercomputer clusters.

Gotta love these conferences...

Oh, and here's Jonny. I drew him during the most boring of the presentations.

Ghosts appear

2007-04-28T11:34:00.000Z

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
Perhaps it's just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It's time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there's pretty lights
And though there's little variation
It nullifies the night from overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Come back another day

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
It's just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away

Colin Hay, "Overkill"

On a day like this

2007-04-27T13:55:00.001Z

Today is one of those days. You wake up, and it's all good. You don't feel too tired, nothing aches, nothing has upset your sleep in those sensitive early morning hours, even the alarm clock doesn't seem to be possessed by the Antichrist. You're thinking "hey, this day might actually be ok for a change".

HA!

You'd like that, wouldn't you? Tough. This is a day that will make sure every single ounce of patience, understanding and kindness is squeezed out of your body, that you will not enjoy the sunshine, that every single person will approach you with one goal, and one goal alone: to irritate and infuriate you, to test your limits, to get on your nerves. They won't do it on purpose, and they will not do it out of spite, malice or character flaws. Nevertheless, nothing will go right today, and Murphy's law scores an amazing victory over you.

Why?

Because TOUGH SHIT, that's why! Today is one of those days. Clench your fists, grind your teeth, try not to snap at anyone, and hope that the earth will decide to rotate a bit faster than usual to put an early end to the day. But it won't. Not on a day like this.

Have a nice day.

Liam Lynch - My United States of Whatever

Friday night, at last!

2007-04-13T20:43:00.000Z

“Independence Day” is on tonight. It’s one of those movies that are just SO great. I’m not joking. It’s absolutely brilliant; all the elements of the perfect film are there. Will Smith is at his best, and so is that Jurassic Park scientist guy (Jeff Goldblum? Is that right?). And in between, during the commercial brakes, there’s all these happy people drinking, eating, enjoying Spain, buying stuff, saving money on car insurance and taking care of various aspects of their appearance. Ironically, a successful advert about a product that helps people improve themselves is (statistically) viewed more people that can’t be bothered doing anything else than sit on the sofa and watch adds on the TV, instead of doing anything more constructive, even if that is to stop watching adds.

(Counts to ten. Slowly. Very slowly. Sighs)

In other news, I’m bored, and for some reason I’m also feeling angry. With everyone and anyone really, so nothing specific (I think). I’d like to be able to stick my brain in a bucket of ice, lime and something alcoholic – vaguely rum. I got wine, though. Hell yeah, I gots me some wine, partner, have a sip!
I’m not even funny anymore. I’m bored. Maybe I should spend some time with my miniature Zen garden….

(Edit: By far, the best part of the movie is when Will Smith and Jurassic Jeff are inside the alien mothership, have realised they're stuck and accepted that they'll die.
Will Smith gets ready, shouts "Peace!" and shoots a nuclear bomb into the spaceship.
That's classic!
Oh, and I feel much better now. Never underestimate the power of a good film!)

By moonlight

2007-03-28T17:20:00.000Z

"But there's no release, no peace
I toss and turn without cease
Like a curse, open my eyes and rise like yeast"

Insomnia, by Faithless

Ok, so except for that last bit about the yeast (?), the rest sounds pretty accurate - but with a twist. Imagine being really really tired, going to sleep, entering the blessed state of sleeping and relaxing (Amen, Reverent!), and then waking up every 45' or so throughout the night. Aaaaaall night. For almost two months now.

Funny how the mind plays tricks on you under such conditions. You start off quite lightly, just feeling a bit tired, but "oh well, I'll sleep earlier tonight and make up for it". Then you start feeling a bit ill, just wondering if you're coming down with something, and as a result you feel you need to sleep. Which leads to you not sleeping, of course. And then you start having problems concentrating during the day, you just can't focus on things for too long, plus you get random events of extreme sleepiness. But you sort of expect all that.

The fun begins after all that. You find your concentration not completely gone, as before, but actually working at completely random instances, switching on and off in mid-sentence, leaving you wondering just what the hell you were talking/thinking about. You become uncertain of what people are saying to you, you think you understand what they say, only to find that they said something quite different which you forgot a few moments after they stopped speaking - "I'm sorry, what have you been saying for the past 3 hours?". Your grip on reality becomes less firm, and you're wondering what actually happened. Oh, and you start hearing/imagining things during the night, as you wake up again and again to noises that aren't really there (the rhythmic inexistent bass line is my all time favourite, followed close by the ultrahigh pitch).

The doctor has prescribed Valiums in the past, but these make me a nice person and, as such, upset my usual way of acting and thinking. So thanks, but no thanks. Also, usual remedies don't seem to work - let me be clear though, I absolutely refuse to go jogging after work, simply on principle.

On the same night theme, I've just finished reading a book entitled "Midnight's Children", by Salman Rushdie - highly recommended, if a bit difficult to follow at time.

I can't get no sleep...

(Rise like yeast... mmm?)

People come and people go

2007-03-26T17:38:00.001Z

In the general scheme of things (life), that's what always happens from one's individual point of view. People enter one's life and, after some time, they leave. Even if that person is the one leaving, the same is true from the point of view of someone else. Also, things in life come in groups, never singled out. A friend of mine back in school developed this theory by which you either have no girls interested in you, or a multitude going after you, but rarely something in between (keep in mind that this was high school, ok?). By taking this thought a bit further, we can speculate that the same applies in most things, such as friends, jobs, money etc. People usually make a reference to things coming in pairs or threes, but the chain doesn't have to stop there. It's sort of like the tide, which either brings water and new things ashore, or takes water and old things and sends them travelling to wherever it is things that are adrift go, until they land somewhere else again.

Why am I saying all this? Well, the tide is changing again from my perspective. I came to St Andrews and left people behind, so in a sense they were taken by the tide further away from me. I met new people here, made friends while the tide was high. But it is the time now that people are leaving, and I'm just standing on the shore watching them ride the waves towards new destinations. It has been happening for a while now, but it will peak within the next few months. It's not all bad.

It saddens me to see people leave, especially since knowing how bad I am at holding on to people that are not in my immediate surroundings, I somehow know that keeping in touch with them will be only a possibility (and not a certainty). People that I've learnt to rely on (and by that I mean anything from just having them around me, therefore relying on them for a sense of belonging and familiarity, to literally me depending on them) have been going away one way or another for some time now, but I'm not used to it yet. I hope I never will or, rather, I hope I won't have to. But as I said, it's not all bad.

People leaving are usually doing so in order to achieve something, to make things better for themselves, or to get away from things that aggravate them. It is a good thing for people to move on, as such is the human nature, to always reach up for more, to always struggle for what's better. People have always waited (and relied on) the high tied to begin new voyages and journeys, and people being left behind have always been saddened by that; they have also always been happy that someone was able to leave, that another part of their family/community is now venturing towards a better world. Parting is such a sweet sorrow, no?

I shall watch another high tide come and go. With every tide that comes, I find myself looking less and less for new things that have drifted ashore, but I have always watched the high tide go. And when this cycle is over, I will not be sad. After all, I'm only waiting for one of those high tides myself...

Additional info

2007-03-25T20:18:00.000Z

Personality Disorder Test Results

Paranoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Schizoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Schizotypal	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	62%
Antisocial	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Borderline	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	46%
Narcissistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	58%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	34%
Dependent	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Obsessive-Compulsive	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	46%

Take Free Personality Disorder Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Anniversary

2007-03-22T11:21:00.000Z

Well, it's been a month since I last posted anything here. In the meantime, the site meter claims I got 1,000 hits so far. A nice round number.
For the most observant of you, ever since I announced to the world that I'll stop being depressing in my posts, I hardly posted anything but a few random thoughts. For the keenest of the observers amongst you, this just verifies my older claim that I only post when I don't feel that good. Finally, for those of you that like to extrapolate facts based on your keen observational skills, that means I'm doing well.
In any case, I was thinking about shutting this blog down - I hardly ever post anything anymore. However, I'm not going to do such a thing, and that's because I know that, some time further down the way, I'll find myself wanting to post things, or just missing this opportunity to share some thoughts of mine with the, er, you people out there. Sort of. I guess.

Catch you later!

Five things you don't know about me

2007-02-22T00:14:00.000Z

Apparently, this is a very cute-good (is that sarcasm dripping from my mouth?) idea, started by someone, continued by someone else (in my case, itelli), to be ended by someone like me. Initially someone wrote on their blog 5 things that people don't know about them, and also named 5 more bloggers to do the same, and so on. Unfortunately for the game, there aren't 5 bloggers that read me (not even if I include myself), so I suppose this will be the end. Anyway, here goes:

1) I absolutely, utterly and completely hate this type of "game". As if I wasn't bored/busy enough on my own, I have to deal with other people's crappy "ha ha, we are all so joyful, and also such a strong community" type of ideas.

2) In the above point, I nearly wrote down "mental vomiting" instead of "ha ha..". Bet you didn't know that.

3) When you ask yourself why, oh why, since I hate this type of thing I still participate in it, I suggest you take a look at yourself and try to find some piece of clothing/electronics/sports item/pen/candle/torture instrument that has not, in one way or another, made this planet a worse place environmentally, socially, humanitarianly. People in Bangladesh suffer so you can type your blogs. Children in idea have made your clothes. Coral reefs in Australia are disappearing so you can watch football on your TVs. More children will die so you can go on cheap holidays. Do you like that? Do you want to stare in the face of the destruction you caused? Do you hate poverty/global warming/destroying of the planet/social inequalities/x children dying every second? You do? And yet you still use laptops/clothes/lights/power etc. Why? You hate all this, why become part of it?

4) I am not included in the previous point, since I am perfect by any standards. I make my own clothes and shoes, have assembled my laptop out of old cardboard boxes and golf balls, never get on a plane (but I do fly), heck, I even breathe my own air. Why? Read on.

6) This should be number 5. It's not. Number 5 reveals to the world that I'm Superman, so I took it out. Number 6 is not allowed, however, so I'll include no useful information here.

Well, that's it. If there's any bloggers out there that read this and want to contribute, please feel free to. If not, I just might be the Omega of this game.
The end is nigh!

A quick comment...

2007-02-15T00:59:00.000Z

I find that the spontaneous photos I take are usually much better than the pre-planned ones. By that I mean that, whenever I carry a camera around with me without a specific plan for taking photos that day and do end up taking some shots, I much prefer them to the ones I take after careful planning and consideration.

All this is not too important. Just take a look at my new gallery, where I'll put shotos I took on my mobile without really planning to.

Bye for now!

Religion as we know it will expire in...

2007-02-04T01:21:00.000Z

I've been watching this very interesting documentary about the Secret Gospels and the whole history behind them. Don't worry, I won't go about analysing the fine theological points that rise from accepting that these documents are indeed what their name implies, and what could the reasons behind the Church not accepting them as genuine might be. I shall spare you that, and perhaps write about it in a future post. Or not.
What impressed me was a phrase by the narrator about the importance of something having to be old to have credibility. I'd better explain this.
Apparently, back in the 2nd (or maybe 1st) century A.D., a scholar/theologist started thinking about the apparent contradictions between the God in the Old testimony and that of the new testimony. His explanation was that, in fact, it was two different gods (or should I write "Gods"?), and the new one came to save the world from the old. His suggestion then to define the christian faith (as that was the argument back then, how to define a specific set of sources from which christians would get their common beliefs, a necessity in any religion and belief, I think) was to exclude the old testimony, with all the jewish influences and references to a vengeful God, and just keep bits and pieces of (what was to later on become) the new testimony. So far so good, a man's opinion is a man's opinion. The narrator then proceeds to say that, indeed, the God of the old testimony had posed certain problems for the early church in relation to how He appears through the words of Jesus Christ, so the thought of scrapping the old testimony altogether came about. He then proceeds to saying that this did not happen, as the link to the old testimony is necessary to create a link to the past (the very beginning of all, according to the old testimony in fact), which is necessary to give credibility, status and a sense of history to christianity, which would otherwise appear as a religion that started with Jesus. Which it is, really, but the point was that if it had all been foreseen and expected for thousands of years by prophets etc it would mean that people would treat it as a religion with a long past and, hence, quite worthy of respect, trust and, well, belief.
So my question is: why is that? I mean, why do old things appear to have a different gravity and importance? Why are, for example, old universities considered better than new ones? And I mean old, not just twenty years old. I do accept the fact that the more time a certain person or institution has been around for, the more experience they have, but certainly after 100 years, why should it matter? I am attending a university that is one of the oldest in the UK (oldest in Scotland, which doesn't necessarily mean that much, but there you have it), having been around for, oh, almost 600 years. Is it better than a university that's been around for 200 years?
Let's go back to the religious argument again. Old religions get more respect, yes? Well, actually not quite. The older a religion is, the more credibility it has, until it hits some limit, after which it becomes a thing of old and fades away. Did you say something? Let me refresh your memory. Christianity, old and all, right, but has been around really for a little more than 2000 years. What about the religions before that? What ever happened to the roman religion? The ancient greek religion? The celt gods? The viking gods? The aztech/inca gods? And I'm sure there's about a million and one different religions that escape my memory. Please also note that I am referring to western religions, as there lies my personal experience - although I'd be curious to see what's the story with eastern religions as well. Anyway, there seems to come a certain barrier previous to which things are not considered worthy of respect, but relics of the past.
So, old things are considered good up to a certain point, and then are discarded off. Think of a (rather) lame example, such is technology (before anyone points out to me that this is different to religion, as technology is a product of man, I'll quickly point out that religion - not necessarily the belief in the existence of divine beings, but definitely religion as a set of determined rules and practices- is exactly the same, a man-made construction), whereby things go from being new and swanky to old and better to antiques admired by some to heaps of worthless junk. Is that the fate of religions as well? Historically speaking, it would seem so. It seems possible that people in the future, believing in Llama Almighty or whatever will look back on christianity, budhism, hinduism etc and just wonder what all the fuss is about.
But is it really? Or has science covered mankind's need for change so effectively that the need for more steady pillars of continuity makes us turn to religion, thus leading to the prolonging of religion's life expectancy? And, if that is the case, what will the future hold for us? Has anyone ever thought that the reason why religions seem to sometimes struggle with the present times, or with the new conditions of the world, might just be because they weren't meant to last this long?
Is the end (of old religions) nigh indeed?

Just a quick one...

2007-02-02T00:10:00.000Z

"Van Helsing" is a crap movie. Says I. It's a Thursday night, and it's on the TV, and it's bad. Car crash bad. German reggae bad. Quite simply, one of the worse movies I've seen - and I've seen bad movies, trust me. And this coming from someone who used to play the "Vampire" RPG - pen and paper.
Anyway, how's it going? Y'all good? I'm good. Alfred's good, he says hello. Alfred is my butler, the one I'll have when I'm rich and I'm also Batman. I've said before that, if I were to wina lot of money in the lottery, I'd become Batman. In St Andrews. I'd buy a cheep grey Batman outfit (did anyone watch the old b&w TV series? The one where Batman had a beerbelly... No? Oh well), get the new MINI (version with a Union Jack on the hood - no reason), and go jumping from roof to roof, occasionally beating random people up - because they're worth it! Batman, ta-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra!
Oh, and 80% of TV adds are retarded. Hey, maybe this can be "George's Law": At any given time in (advertising) history, 80% of all adds are retarded.

Anyway, as I said, that was just a quick one. More later.

Marvin. Just call me Marvin...

2007-01-26T21:46:00.000Z

Been looking through my older posts. Wait. I'll start this from the beginning.
So, I recently noticed that itelli's blog has massively increased in popularity and hits. I think that's great, as (slightly) in contrast to what most people believe, good things are usually recognised. NOT good people, but good things. Right.
Anyway, I noticed his blog is becoming more and more popular, which is a very good thing. And then I noticed that the counter on mine seems to have paused (indefinitely). And then I looked at my traffic reports, and realised what was happening.
On average, I get about three (3) hits per day. Of those, I know at least two (2) are mine, since I check in hope of a comment. That means that, on average, one (1) person every day checks my blog. In conclusion, thanks itelli!
Now some of you (can you define some of one? For people I mean. Could I claim that 3/17ths of itelli are doing something? Yes I can) may be saying "Oh, he's been through this before, and we ended up finding celebrity names in every post, what now, oh Gawd, can't stand this whole thing, what do I care, John bloody Travolta can go shave his head clean" etc etc. Which is fine, because you are right. Only this tie, things are different.
See, this time I decided to look into my previous posts and seek out a reason (or more) why this blog is only read by 4/19ths of one individual person each day. Which brings me to the beginning of this post (tempted to close the circle by writing "Wait". Oh well). Wait. I found it! The reason!
Here goes (clears throat). My posts reflect the state of mind that I'm in, ok? They reflect the negative side of my state of mind (see previous post, oh I don't know which one, ask itelli). Which is all cool and all, cause that's what I want to do. With me so far? So basically, all my posts so far give out these amazingly negative vibes and notions, with the only glimmer oh positive thinking consisting of the occasional miniature meditation garden. Which really isn't much. I've also mentioned that I've been reading the "Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy" (by Douglas Adams, make it one of the books you'll read in your lifetime; unless you can't read, in which case you're not reading this - your loss, really, go back to school). And that's when it hit me.
My blog, in its current form, feeling and shape, is exactly like being inside the mind of Marvin, the Paranoid Android (friends and fans or Radiohead, now you know where it came form). Exactly.
A bit of background, for the ones not familiar with the book. And no, I will not describe the entire book. Marvin is this robot, on board a spaceship, that has been designed (the robot, not the spaceship) to have his own personality. Only thing, the personality they gave him was that of a depressed person. Marvin can do anything, since he has "a brain the size of a planet", nevertheless he is permanently depressed, moaning, complaining, sees no joy in life around him, no task is ever interesting, and so on. Constantly like that. As are my posts, incidentally.
In the book, when Marvin speaks to the computer of another spaceship, it commits suicide. People avoid him, robots avoid him, fishponds avoid him. It makes sense then that people would tend to avoid reading my blog. People (myself included, and in general) may say that they are ok being depressed, may claim to be happy in their own misery, but that's because they do not fully comprehend misery and depression. When they come along something that literally oozes depression (Marvin, my blog, dead fish floating in the water), they first become interested (I'm depressed, this is depressed, yay), but when the sheer force of depressions these things give out hits them, they realise that they're actually quite ok, and they'll go home, thank you very much, and watch gardening programmes.
To summarise: My blog is depressing. Dead fish floating are depressing. Gardening is healing for the soul.
It might be that the time has come for a new turn in the context of this blog. It may be that I should not just deal with my inner negative side, but with other things as well. News. Movies. Things. Life. Gardening!

I'll have a little think about that. Until then, just call me Marvin...

TB (tired, bored)

2007-01-24T14:01:00.000Z

So, I returned back to St A after three days of driving across the UK. St A to Cardiff to Bristol to Cardiff to Oxford to St A, a total of 1150 miles. Not bad at all, as driving is one of the things I enjoy doing most, although this experience has verified that I am not cut out to be a truck driver - too much of a good thing. Plus, crossing the Midlands is so utterly boring that would justify having an autopilot. But there you have it, and you can read all about it in my memoirs, in the chapter entitled "George's tale (or there and back again)".

Problem is: I'm tired and bored, bored and tired, bired or tored. Coming back to this bubble of idyllic tranquillity that St A is (for those of you unfamiliar with the place, it can only be compared to a padded cell - with rain) has just reminded me how boring it is. It's so.... boring. So boring I can't even find another word for "boring". So boring that things stop being enjoyable anymore. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy isn't funny anymore. Southpark isn't funny anymore. People jumping off moving vehicles and braking all the bones in their bodies (plus a few more that don't belong to them) isn't funny anymore. Driving isn't that enjoyable around these parts. Taking photographs becomes a burden. Shooting seagulls doesn't seem like a good idea. I'll spare you at this point, but you get the idea.

I was down in Oxford and found this great little shop which sells miniature Japanese meditation gardens, bonsai trees and crystal growing kits (this is interesting, actually. You get this kit, with chemicals and, er, stuff, and you grow your own crystal. If you're a 3-year-old like me mentally, it's kinda cool), along with plasma balls, Galileo thermometers and Chinese tea pots. The idea of having a 20cmx10cm meditation garden (complete with rocks, a small pond and a thingy to make patterns) seemed to me to be by far the most interesting thing I could be doing in St A. Or even staring at a Feng-Shui indoor fountain. Or compiling a 10,000-piece puzzle of a white wall, for that matter.

In other news, itelli has (fortunately only partly and very vaguely) revealed my plan to be the King of Fife (echo...), but I'll talk about this in the next post. Sort of.

Oh, the piece and tranquillity of a padded cell, a miniature meditation garden and a Feng-Shui fountain...

Back to the future

2007-01-11T18:16:00.001Z

It is interesting to see how my feelings about the future and what it holds for me are shared by a lot of people in exactly the same way. All of them (us) have used the exact same phrasing, "living in the future". My first reaction was "hey, that describes precisely how I feel", but then it started to sink inside me. Living in the future.

First of all, I shall briefly describe what it is that I mean by that, for those of you that are curious and/or are lucky enough not to share similar feelings of anxiety. "Living in the future" refers to a state (of mind, primarily) where one feels that they have to bear through all the problems that appear in present time for the sake of future prosperity. Now, you might think this sounds perfectly reasonable, which it does, therefore I feel I need to differentiate between planning/dreaming about the future and actually living in it.

It is perfectly normal to plan ahead, and indeed some people that don't so that (that's right, point that finger towards me) often find themselves watching opportunities go past them, or panic trying to make things work at the very last moment. It is also a normal thing to dream about the future, or hope/dream/wish for certain things to happen. It is also fine to acknowledge that the pursuit of finer things in the future might mean that you have to go through rough and troublesome periods in the present. That is all good.

What's not good is when you choose to disassociate yourself from the present time, not paying any attention to whether or not you are enjoying yourself, not trying to improve things for yourself in the present, not enjoying, experiencing and, in practice, not living your life in present time. Instead, time goes by and you're just left thinking about what the future will bring, the possibility of a good life in the future, where you'll end up when you're 30/40/50/60 and have children/grandchildren/no children. It is sad because, in reality, all we have for sure is the present, and even if it not present perfect, that's what we have to go by. It is our wishes, hopes and ambitions that drive us through life, but we do have to live it in order to fulfil them.

Ironically, when I was asked back when I was 17 (in school, during essay writing) what is my definition of happiness, I answered "to be able to be 80 years old and look back on my life and say: that was a good life". Doomed to live in the future until I'm too old for that and have to live in the past. Yep, that's me!

Cars (not!)

2007-01-09T16:04:00.001Z

Originally, this was going to be a post about cars. How I really like (some of) them, why I like them, what I think about the future of cars; in short, George’s “Complete view of automobiles”, Special Edition.
But it won’t be, and that’s for two reasons, namely a) nobody gives a damn and b) I don’t feel like it right now. Maybe in the near future, if I feel like it. For now, a few thoughts on, erm, now. The present. And the near future.
Let me start by saying that I do feel very positive about 2007. Not sure why, but I do. Maybe because of how 2006 was, or maybe because I could really do with a good year. Not necessarily extremely good, but a nice, calm, normal year. No evictions, no illnesses, no lawyers, no money problems, no work problems (I’d written “no friends problems” here, but I’ll leave it out). I know this is a bit utopic, as all of these problems are bound to come up, I’d just like them to be a bit more low-key than they have been in the past year.
Because I’ve really had it. There were times in 2006 that I felt really desperate, that nothing seemed to be going well, that I wasn’t doing anything right, or even if I did, I just couldn’t make things work. I hereby give 2006 the title of “The Worst Year So Far”, can we have a big round of applause (not!). On the other hand though, “may you live in interesting times” (cannot remember who was that said that, sorry for not referencing), and 2006 has certainly been interesting. In the same way perhaps that the Black Plague was interesting, but there you have it.
I am exaggerating a bit, of course. I’ve also had good times in 2006, I’ve had fun, and some things have definitely been great about it. But overall, it sucked big time.
On a different note, I’ve realised that most of my recent (well, last few months worth of) posts have been completely pointless, utterly meaningless, and did not make that much sense whatsoever. I’ve managed to right posts upon posts in which I’m not really saying anything, and though that is a certain achievement, it’s not so to the point that I could go into politics, and therefore useless. I’ll try to make up for that.

Quote of the day:
"I am not a dawdler, I just have many interests"
By me, of course!

New Year is here...

2007-01-01T20:48:00.000Z

...at last! Jappy New Year veryone, happy 2007!
May everyone take one more step towards a better tomorrow, and one step away from all the bad things in their lives. I think the entire world could use a good year.
Most importantly, let us all wish that 2006 will burn in Hell as a very small way of making up for everything it brought. And, just because I know that some of you have had a good year, you can at least wish that for my 2006. Please.

Please be nice 2007. Please please please.

Whistling away

2006-12-08T17:10:00.000Z

It is on evenings like this one when I feel my mind wandering off to various directions. I need to feel tired, fed up and not have anything really important to do for this to happen, but it does happen. I do not consider it to be a good or a bad thing, just a thing.
I kind of lose track of time. Time becomes fluid, undecided about the direction and speed it wishes to follow. I might be doing something (anything, as long as it’s not important) and can swear that it’s been hours on end of me doing that, and it’s only been ten minutes. Usually, this is caused - I’m speculating here, but I’m sure I’ve read/heard about it somewhere – by a very intense concentration on a particular task or job, but with me it seems to work the other way around, and I know exactly what’s causing it: my mind.
See, under these conditions, my mind starts thinking at a somewhat higher speed than usual, while at the same time seems to multitask quite effortlessly, in terms of thinking about a number of different subjects at the same time. These subjects range from remembering old friends and past events to speculating about the future and from trying to think what the best coffee I’ve ever drunk was (and where) to missing my old cat (tribute to Gino, respect). All these at once, plus a feeling of dizziness and disorientation, along with a myriad other trivial things; trivial, not everyday things, such as what to eat and stuff, never those, just trivial, such as “can plastic really be recycled in the long term”, “what if I had short hair” etc. At the same time, whenever I close my eyes I feel them rolling upwards under my closed eyelids, and my mind seems to follow; I feel it elevating to the top of my scalp, while it’s bottom parts seem to go vaguely numb.
Besides waiting for someone to post a comment with a link to a psychiatric ward and a free entrance ticket, I have to say I don’t necessarily mind this feeling. It is not overall unpleasant or discomforting; it’s really nothing “more than a feeling”. But there you have it, this is how I feel at the moment. I’m writing this and my mind is travelling to a hundred different directions at the same time, thinking about why I have sand in one of my camera lenses, how would it be like to live in Brazil, is it an option to sedate people before putting them on a plane in the interest of safety, will I ever see an iceberg, and a song by Nelly Furtado (“All good things (come to an end)”, beautiful, that whistling bit echoes in the whispering gallery modes of my head), as well as a random selection of (mental) hawk images, for whatever reasons.

*Whistles*

By the way, I’ve noticed that since I stopped including catchy keywords in my posts, the number of visits has slowed down. Just an observation.

That’s all for now.

Kind of well done...

2006-12-05T16:19:00.000Z

So, this blog has gone over 600 visits. Not such a big deal in general, but it kind of feels good to know that the 6 of you that read it have gone into the trouble of visiting 100 times each. Or bad, cause it just shows that you (we) have a lot of time on your (our) hands. In any case, happy 600th visit, oh blog of personal expression! On the other hand, my photo site is nearing 5000 visits, and even if at least 1000 of them is myself seeing if anyone has visited (sad, I know), it’s still 4000 visits. Kewel!
Correct me if I’m wrong, but this can easily be compared to the excitement people used to feel when they got their own telephone line and also had their names registered. It was something new and exciting, knowing that people out there knew where and how to find you. People were waiting for someone to call them, and even if it was a wrong number or their local (to-be) elected representative, it still counted (or so I’m told, in any case). It is the same thing all over again, only at a different scale, since on the internet people are more often looking for people they don’t know. Or are they? Any way, I hope you got my point, I’m feeling good people are visiting my sites, even if this doesn’t make any (tangible) difference to me.
On the same note (but in a different tone), I also feel some sort of anxiety when I haven’t published anything for a while, blog-wise or photo-wise. It feels as if there’s people out there that are waiting to see what’s next from me, they’ve bookmarked my pages and come back to see if something new is there, and if not they’ll eventually get bored and never come back. Kind of like some sites along the lines of “Liberate bread from the plague of money” (in Greek only, don’t know where that link is, but basically bread-making recipes in an ideological context – and you think what I write about is weird!), which seem interesting (?) at first, but when nothing new is added, you never go back again. This is (wait for it) a glimpse for me (not quite yet) on how people can get addicted (…) to being famous (..giggle…), to being in the centre of attention (subdued laughter), to being stars (yes, you can finally roll on the floor laughing now). Interesting. I think.
In any case, my dear readers, this has been another post. 600 visits and all is well! :)

Interestingly enough...

2006-11-25T22:05:00.000Z

...I am not dead. I have not been abducted, and I have not been recruited by terrorists or anti-terrorists. And, even if appearances suggest so, I am not James Bond.
I know it’s been quite a long time since I posted anything here (or given any signs of life to a lot of people). Sorry about that, lot of people, but a combination of facts and necessities have prevented me form doing so.
First of all, I’ve been ill. Twice. Nothing too serious, but enough to force me to stay indoors and not do much. Secondly, I’ve had to go through the strenuous process of applying for a new passport (British citizens are unlikely to fully comprehend what that means, and I sincerely wish to them that they never will). And thirdly, my natural laziness got the best of me.
Speaking of which, I still can’t think of anything interesting to write about. I promise that – Wait! Hold the press, the kid’s got a story to tell!
A little follow up on the bike-police incident. The local police force sent me a letter informing me that, having decided to handle this discretely, they will not give me a fine. Instead, I now have a criminal record in Scotland, available to all and any police officers, which will be deleted after six months, provided I don’t get pulled over again for a similar offense. I kid you not, ladies and gentlemen. I can now start writing lyrics for gangsta RnB, get tattoos, call myself “G” ( I always did, come to think of it), etc etc.

Nevertheless, I do maintain a rather positive perspective on life. Somehow, it’s still cool. It’s all good in da hood, me ‘n my crew ain’t got nothin’ to do, or to say, you don’t say, am I too bad for you? Yo. Peace on Earth, bros!

Bravery, Dedication, Honour

2006-11-02T18:51:00.001Z

(Based on a true story)

It’s the Local Police Ball 2006. Hundreds of guests, important people, ministers, you name it. Even Sean Connery is there!
The band is playing a tune, and the Chief of Police comes on the podium.
“Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, it gives me great pleasure to announce the Policeman of the Year Royal Awards” (waits for clapping to calm down).
Bronze Award goes to Detective Blah DiBlah, for Cracking the drugs cartel that has destroyed so many thousands of lives so far (clapping and cheering).
Silver Award is given to Inspector Someone McSomebody, for tracking down and arresting 999 serial rapists (again, cheering and clapping).
The Golden Award represents the highest achievement of a police officer, comparable only to a Medal of Honour. This year, we have decided to give it to two police officers that, putting their lives on the line, risking every minute and with a high sense of duty and dignity, stopped George outside a chip shop and gave him a fine for not having lights on his bicycle. This country is forever indebted to you, stand up so we can see you!”
Standing ovation, cheering, rhythmically chanting the officers’ names…

And the band
Begins to play…

Thinking of the past

2006-10-20T12:43:00.000Z

Do you ever do that? Just sit back in your chair/bed/sofa/bamboo mat and think about the past? Not just the immediate past (what did I have for dinner last Thursday?), but times gone a bit longer by. You do. Excellent.
How about people that are part of your past (not were, they are and will always be parto of your past)? I'm not talking about ex-whatevers; rather, I'm talking about old friends. Or people you considered to be your friends some time ago and have now drifted somewhere into the realm of acquaintances, usually resurrected in stories of old ("I remember, this one friend of mine once" etc). Do you ever wonder what these people are doing now?
That old best friend from primary school, with whom you used to share everything... Where is he/she now? Highschool buddies? Even uni friends... Obviously not the ones that you still hang out with, or get to see around Christmas, but the ones you haven't had any contact for in ages. What are they doing? Do you care? Do they care? What if you've completely put them aside, but they're still hanging in there, looking your name up in Google (don't give me a moral lecture on this, we all do this, even you *points a finger towards the back of an imaginary meeting hall*), just because they care for you and want to know what you're doing?
Is this the right thing to do? Imagine being on the receiving end of this, getting an invitation for the realm of acquaintances from one of your best friends (soon to become "of old"). How do you react? Do you just accept it? Do you get mad at them? Do you simply say "I don't care" and spend the small hours of the night quietly weeping?
Is acceptance one more the key to (a) salvation?

That's all for now, I'll pick this up again later.

Random thoughts

2006-10-17T16:17:00.000Z

I've no idea where I left this blog (well, I could look, but where's the fun in that). I also have very little idea about what I'd want to write about. Therefore, all you'll get today is random thoughts.

Old people... I feel like my stomach ever so slightly clenches when I spend time with them. I still have a good time (can do, as with any other age group), it's just that I cannot helo but have this feeling of an imminent loss and sorrow. Perhaps because it is a clear view into the future, my future. It just feels a bit strange, that's all.

The human species will split into two, just as "predicted" in H.G.Wells' "Time Machine". I'm not saying that, the bbc is. Oh well, maybe, maybe not. I'm just a bit perplexed as to what an evolutionary theorist is doing in the London School of Economics.

I was reading on a website last night (ok, it's the Sinner) that, just in case any girl should be subjected to rape (or attempt of), she should carry with her a sharp object (knife or pen) with which - I kid you not - "it's sharp enough to cause some damage, and if stuck into a temple or an eye can be a lifesaver". For the love of God/Buddha/Brahma/Monolith/Zen! I could say a lot (oh, trust me, a lot), but I've grown so bored of feminists over the past years that I'll keep my mouth shut. I'll just say that the incident reported occured when a drunken girl let a stranger into her appartment at 3am. I SAID, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!

I think this is all for now. May the Monolith quietly overlook all of us again tonight.

Something a bit different

2006-10-09T21:59:00.000Z

Going over the past couple of posts, which seemed to please only myself, and given that I am alone in the flat (therefore feeling lonely and a bit sad, meaning that a post is in order), here's what's going through my mind right now.
I've been watching TV, following a number of movies/documentaries revolving around international policy. As you know, I refuse to comment on that, about who's wrong/right/sane/crazy/benign/evil. However, a thought has sprung into my mind watching both sides (there's usually two sides, itelli can correct me on this, but I feel like you can always define two sides, and a bunch of pars that go one way or another, choosing one of the two sides in their doing so) develop their arguments. Both sides believe in something, both sides have faith/confidence in something higher; not necessarily a divine being, but in things such as "these people are wrong", or "we are doing the right thing", or "we're confident this/that is happening and we will react in such and such way". People/countries/groups around the world believe in some things and choose to act upon their beliefs.
To explain, I will not look into what beliefs are better/more righteous/more cool than others. Some things are right, some things are wrong, and I'm not the judge of that for anyone except myself. I have my opinions and everyone else have their own. I just find it really hard to allow myself to do this, or in any case to get into that way of thinking.
Could it be God? A lot of people find hope/consolation/guidance/advice in God, one way or the other. Could it be dedication to an ideal? A country? A financial or political system? A simple sport, even?
Nope. Blessed are the ignorant, for they shall inherit the earth. Damned are the knowing, for they shall only make their lives harder. But what side am I on?
Since I chose not to strongly believe in anything, am I part of the knowing, using my critical ability to examine, weigh and accept or reject anything based on hard facts (well, hard for me anyway). Or am I the ignorant one, not being able to see the truth that believing in something provides you with, the strength that you can get from shear force of will?
Brief example: Fear of death (I'm reading a relevant book, by the way, "A spot of bother" by Mark Haddon - highly recommended once you go below its surface). The knowing person understands that, lacking any evidence for an afterlife/reincarnation/ext from the Matrix, when you die your consciousness seizes to exist, leading to a complete and utter end to everything as far as the deceased are concerned. The believing person believes in something happening when you die, be it being reunited with one's beloved dead or finally turning into a billion trillion gazillion molecules and becoming a part of the universe. Again, without looking into where this leads, the knowing person is the one more prone to despair. Who is the blessed?
I'm sure I had a point to make, but it seems to elude me for the time being. I assume it has to do with the slight sadness that I feel whenever I see people truly and wholeheartedly believing in something. Something big, life-defining and life-changing.
Not sure I'd like to be one of them. I just believe (ha!) that it would make life a lot more certain, comforting and easy (believe in this to be right, act upon it, it's all good). It pushes people forward, it motivates people. Tom Cruise.

Doing a very amateur self-analysis, the above text is a testimony to me lacking motivation about my work and my future. Oh well.

Blogs of Boredom (BoBs)

2006-10-03T17:18:00.000Z

Right, let me pick up where I left things… Given also the interesting comments I received, let’s try and make this a bit clearer by using an example.
Imagine you have a guy (or a girl, doesn’t really make much difference). You give them a ticket for a trip somewhere. You also give them a camera that they’re fairly comfortable using. You set them free. My personal experience has shown me that:

“The amount of photos taken on any journey is almost* directly proportional to how bored that person was during the journey”

Following so far? Feel like disagreeing? Just a second then.
I’ve observed this on others, and I’ve observed this on myself. I like taking pictures. I really, really like taking pictures. It would take something of biblical proportions to stop me from doing so (first rider of Apocalypse shaking his head…). And still, fact remains. I will take a lot of photos when I’m having a good time, but if I’m bored I’ll even take photographs of my toothpaste. The same thing goes for my writing, be it in a blog, a notepad, a book (ha! I'd wish!) or a wall.
So, where am I going with this? Itelli is right, even if I was in Antartica / paradise / Fidji / padded cell, I would still find something to write about, because I find a lot of things interesting (especially in my head – hence sfranky’s comment is kind of relevant), and somehow I’m always looking for things to write about. However, when I feel really happy, I will not put a single damn entry into my blog. That explains why you very rarely see any mention of happy events in my blog (something which caused my girlfriend to wonder as to why exactly am I writing a blog, since I usually moan to her all the time anyway). And if I’m in a state of bliss, I might even only take a couple of photos per week :)

In any case, when my posts take a long time to be renewed, I’m probably having a good time. Or I’m in Guantanamo. Or both.

Elvis.

*The “almost” part accounts for two parameters, namely a) people doing a journey in order to take pictures and b) going to a place with really interesting things to take pictures of - not the same!

BoDs (Blogs of Depression)

2006-09-27T16:59:00.000Z

As the keenest observers amongst you have noted by now, it has been a long time since I posted anything here. My previous message must have given some warning (I know a few people started shaking their heads when they saw it), but still it’s been quite some time. Did I hear you ask “why”? No? I’ll explain anyway.
A couple of months ago I was having a discussion with my girlfriend, and we got carried away discussing the possible implications of writing a blog. We got round to the point that I could become famous (and rich, nothing wrong with being rich), and that’s when my vision came to me. I kid you not; this is it, word by word:
“I imagine myself dressed in a light white costume, wearing a panama hat, barefoot, walking on a seemingly endless beach that follows the inside of a quiet bay. The sand is white, and my mind drifts away for a second, thinking of all the trillions of shells throughout the billions of years that lived, died and then were crushed and ground so that one day I can walk on them barefoot and cherish the feeling. The palm trees create playful shadows around the beach as they move in the gentle breeze, and the distant sound of parrots in them only slightly distracts me from the sound of the waves slowly coming and going. I am not alone, as I have a whole entourage of people following me, carrying my stuff from my beach hut (ok, it’s a fully equipped beach bungalow). I chose a spot; it could easily be any other spot, but this one seems just about right, so I stop walking.
They first put my desk on the sand, in such a way that I am at an angle to the sea line, looking mostly towards the sea. My chair follows, and after that a typewriter or a Macbook (haven’t made up my mind yet about this. Having never used either, but being closer to a computer than to something designed to punch letters into innocent sheets of paper, I might chose the laptop. But then you punch the letters into innocent sheets of paper, how cool is that! Ehm, back to the story). A fruit cocktail of some sort follows, alcohol included, and finally a cigar with a lighter, just in case I feel like it. They bow, turn around and leave my field of view unobstructed. I take a deep breath and relax in my chair, letting my eyes wonder over the varying colours of the sea out to the clear horizon, where the waves roar as they break on the coral barrier, listening to the sea birds going about their daily business. I sink my toes in the sand, take a sip from my drink, and I start writing *sound of needle being dragged off a vinyl record*”
That’s when it hit me. Under those circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to write a damn thing. Nothing. Nada. Honestly, I don’t think I would be able to get my eyes off the horizon, stop being soothed by the sound of the waves gently coming and going, blah blah blah. Absolutely not. I’m in the freakin’ Caribbean (or wherever the Hell I am at), and I’ll be writing blog posts?
I shall pick this up again in the next post, but keep this in mind:

People that are sane and happy with themselves and their lives, simply do not blog.

Nothing to write home about...

2006-09-20T17:43:00.000Z

Not really. I mean, this is kind of a transitional period for me, blah blah blah, settling into my new flat, blah blah blah, work, blah, boredom, blah blah...
The point is, I think I've reached that stage that I always reach in my life with mostly anything that I decide to keep myself busy with that the urge to do something is starting to be even with my natural tendency to do nothing. A very tense moment, ladies and gentlemen! Will this blog go down the drain like my previous websites did after a while? Will I find the strength and inspiration I need to go on? Will you be bored after reading yet another non-entry? Will an Angel for Heaven make a miraculous intervention that will change this blog for ever?
Stay tuned. No key word today.

Not a proper entry...

2006-09-12T13:54:00.000Z

... but it'll have to do for now.
Some pictures from Leuchars Air Show 2006 (now now, don't cry just because you didn't get to go) can be found here. As I said, I had the need to take photos, and when this was combined with the thought of extreme noise, nice weather and fighter planes, the "uber-mann" (Tom Cruise) within me fell the adrenaline pumping and the boredom screaming, so I decided to go; living 10' away also helped.
For a proper entry, later.

Nopauseforbreath

2006-09-11T14:20:00.000Z

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A picture tells a tale better than 1000 words can ever do

2006-09-10T16:13:00.000Z

Keep on swimming

2006-09-08T14:12:00.000Z

Sometimes I feel like writing in my blog is a bit of an obligation. Towards myself, towards you, towards whatever (need, perhaps?) drives me to do this. And this is not necessarily a bad thing.
I think that sometimes everyone needs a (gentle or not) kick in the, ahem, back to get going. It's all very nice being self-motivated etc to do stuff, but sometimes our natural momentum (or lack thereof any) gets the best of us. You could like something as much as you like, but sometimes you just can't deal with it. Kind of like the photography thing with me.
Looking back to what I've just written, it becomes rather obvious that I'm lazy. That's ok, I am. That's not the point though. The point is that sometimes we need someone (or something) holding a whip over our heads, telling us what to do. We need an initial kick; we need something not to motivate us, but to get us to do things. There is a distinction there, though it can be quite subtle.
To give a historical example, let's look at nuclear energy (uh oh). Just before the Second World War, scientists were keen to develop it. They were highly motivated, they were set on doing that, it would happen. Eventually. And then there was a fear that the Nazis might get it first, and within a few years, tadah! Now, it would be wrong to say that the Nazis motivated the rest of the world (or the Americans, whichever you prefer); rather, they forced them to do something. Was that a good or a bad thing? I will not go into the ethics and morals behind what happened (a needle can either save lives or take them), but fact of the matter is that it got things rolling.
In the same (well, less historically important) context, I feel that it is a good thing if sometimes we are made to do things, if we force ourselves to get off our ass and start working/blogging/painting/jogging. Otherwise, despite all our good intentions, efforts and motivation, we'd end up watching Victorian house restoration 24/7.
This post has been a wonderful example of what to write about when there is nothing you want to write about. The trick is to write and write and write. It takes a lot of doodling to produce a work of art, it takes (as Confucius I think has said) a lot of shit shoveling to reap a field of wheat, it takes a million photos to capture a single moment. At the end though, it's the final outcome that makes it all worth it. Christina Aguillera.

Needs etc

2006-09-06T16:25:00.000Z

I was thinking today about not having updated my photo web page at pbase. In addition, I realised that I haven't spent any time going through my photos, choosing the ones I like, processing them, taking new ones and so on. On its own, that doesn't mean anything, people forget, have other priorities etc, why should I be any different?
The next thought though was a bit more important. I feel like I need to be doing that, taking photos and all that follows. The key word here is "need". Why do I need to do this? It's just a hobby, it won't change anything in my life (assuming always that the International Organisation for Very Talented Individuals - InOVeTI - is not looking for the next Extremely Talented Individual - ExTI), if anything, it will take up my time, my energy, my precious free time. And ok, having a hobby can act as a form of self-therapy, of releasing pent-up creativity, it can help you get in touch with a side of you that's under-represented in your everyday life and therefore you can get extra benefits from spending time on it, but a need?
I'm just curious: If I was a photographer by proffesion, would I turn to other areas of life for my hobbie, feeling that I need to do so? Would I take up accounting, maths, physics or marketing as a pass-time? Would I feel the "Need to Account"?

Probably not.

Therefore a) I'm lucky I'm not an accountant by proffesion (no offense, it's just a matter of personal preference) and b) I should just do what pleases me without going into too much detail about what's the inner motive that drives me.
However, and in response to (b), I am curious by nature. I want to know (but hey, at least I don't need to know).

Tha last thing I want to say is "Madonna".

Thought of the day

2006-09-01T11:03:00.000Z

First of all, thank you all for your comments and for checking my blog every now and then.
To start with, I have to say that writing in this blog works as a toilet flush for my brain. Some things get clogged up in there, and I feel like I have to let them out. Writing this blog for me is primarily a way of cleaning and refreshing my mind (come on, the story of the man that always turned left? But it was going around in my head, so I wrote it down and got it out of the way), but that is not all.
Obviously, by choosing to do this online (in public, if you will) instead of just filling a diary with my thoughts whenever I felt like it implies that I am expecting some sort of feedback from people.
I was aiming to see who would eventually comment, who would get in touch to let me know they read this; an experiment on both sides, me writing something about what's on my mind and seeing if people are attracted to it, be it by chance or by, well, chance. This is the reason for not advertising it (I think up to yesterday there were 4 people that I'd informed about my blog). In the past I have made numerous attempts at maintaining a website, writing etc, and I wanted this to be different.
I did not, however, do things much differently. I kept it completely esoteric, almost private, and I think that the fact that some people were actually there to read it was a miracle (or a great success) on its own. And although my original idea about who and why should read my blog has not changed (see one of my first posts), I have discovered that the need to reach out to other people through this blog has been growing inside me. I feel like I now want to get comments, I want people to read this, I eagerly await for their opinion and judgement.
Perhaps I am moving on from cleansing to purging, from getting everything out to putting more in, from speaking my mind to hearing what other people have to say about me.
So a big thank you to everyone that's been reading this so far, it really does make a difference to me knowing that you're there What mmatters is that you are there. Also, a welcome to all newcomers (anyone?). I do not promise you an easy ride, I will not hold your hand as we go through this.
Open the door and come out into the garden. I'll be waiting for you over the fence at the very end, I'll take you into the woods and we'll walk through the forrest together. What I'm getting out of this is some company along the way, maybe even the occasional chat. And if you're lucky, you might find something useful along the way. Don't be afraid, just pick it up and keep it and make it yours. It will be your memory of this journey.

PS: Angelina Jolie :)

A story of a man who always turned left

2006-08-31T10:33:00.000Z

This is the story of a man who always turned left.

A boy was born some years ago, and he always turned left. Always. This fact puzzled, annoyed and worried (in that order) his parents, who took him to the doctors. The doctors could find nothing wrong with him, so they sent him to the psychiatrists. The psychiatrists could find nothing wrong with him, so they sent him back to the doctors, and so on, until the boy was 12 years of age. At that point, he had a brain scan, and they discovered that an uneven blood clot within his brain was putting pressure on the right part of the surrounding brain area, making him moody to start with and, if the pressure continued to rise, it could cause irreversible brain damage. Whenever he was turning left, the clot was pushed towards the right because of centrifuge, and the pressure was lessened. The doctors decided that this man actually needed to turn left in his life to preserve his sanity. His parents decided that they should not let him know what's happening to preserve his freedom of choice.
The boy grew up and became a man with a strong liking for cars. He loved driving. And he still only turned left. His greatest joy was speeding through left turns, tires screaming, the man screaming of joy and relief. He would never turn right, even if that meant carefully (and crazilu) choosing his route to only include left turns. As we all know, three left turns equal one right turn, so he was able to navigate anywhere, even if that took more time. Always speeding, always turning left.
At the age of 23, he went to the United Kingdom for a Masters in car engineering. His parents were so happy, he was doing well for himself, becoming a free and strong man as they had wanted him to be, despite his little quirk of always truning left.
During his first day in the UK, he hired a car, a nice BMW, and took it for a ride. And when he came across the first roundabout, he had to turn right vey fast and the clot in his brain punctured the soft tissue of the brain and he died.

Today's keyword is "Britney Spears".

To bother, or not to bother...

2006-08-30T14:30:00.000Z

I was just looking at the stats for my blog visits. 68 in total, one evry day. Given that I suspect that, on a day-to-day basis, it's either itelli checking if I've come up with anything slightly non-boring or me checking if anyone finds what I write slightly non-boring, I think that no one except me and italli ever look at this blog.
No one.
Not even by accident does anyone ever end up reading my blog. Statistically, that is an impossibility. There are billions of internet users, most of them spend a good part of their day looking around webpages and blogs, so by the Power of Maths, I cannot be the only one to read my blog! I refuse to accept this! It's the same as dancing around in a blossomed field in May and not stepping on a single flower! Im-freaking-possible! Therefore, I have no choice but to declare the space-time continuum to be void and the end of the world to be near.

Repent! The end is nigh!

One of my friends (who, by the way, verified my theory about who it is that reads my blog) sugested that my blog does not have enough keywords, it's not "in" enough, it cannot attract enough attention. It should be more market-friendly, more shiny and sparkly, more trendy. Maybe so. I though about changing the title to "TrendyBlog", but I think that's lame. But then again, people might actually read it. So what I'll do is to include a trendy snappy keyword in every one of my future posts, just to trick someone else except me and itelli to read my blog. Today's word is "Paris Hilton".

In other news, I found a house. And I'm thinking of taking up writing again, maybe there is something in my head except random thoughts that I can for into a coherent text. I even bought a notebook to keep track of my thoughts throughout the day, chances are it'll be left with the two pages of (pompous, witty-looking and ridiculously mysterious) introduction in it. But what the heck. I'll keep you (or should I say itelli) informed.

Should I even bother? I wonder...

August

2006-08-25T07:23:00.000Z

I΄d really like to be writing something profound and meaningful in this post, but there are three things that prevent me from doing so:
a) I΄m on holiday, so why bother?
b) I΄m homeless (again, yes, I know..)
c) There΄s a series of books on the bookcase behind me entitled "The History of Mankind". Honestly, I could never top that one up.

See yall later...

I read the news today, oh boy...

2006-07-31T15:54:00.000Z

Nothing here. Just a reminder of how trivial our life can be in comparison to everything else in the world.

Something here though. A good friend of mine has given me the opportunity, freedom and responsibility to express myself freely on whatever I want in his excellent (and quite esoteric) blog. This allows me to go over the restrictions I've placed on myself in terms of what goes into my blog.

See, think and judge for yourself. Always.

A Day in Life

I read the news today oh boy
About a lucky man who made the grade
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to laugh
I saw the photograph
He blew his mind out in a car
He didn't notice that the lights had changed
A crowd of people stood and stared
They'd seen his face before
Nobody was really sure
If he was from the House of Lords.

I saw a film today oh boy
The English Army had just won the war
A crowd of people turned away
but I just had to look
Having read the book.
I'd love to turn you on

Woke up, fell out of bed,
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup,
And looking up I noticed I was late.
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke,
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream

I read the news today oh boy
Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire
And though the holes were rather small
They had to count them all
Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.
I'd love to turn you on

Maybe

2006-07-24T15:48:00.000Z

"Fresh place for the evening to gather your thoughts"...
Is this what I really need? Quite possibly. You see, things occurring around us cn have a dramatic effect on the processes of thought and feeling. I'm not referring to the obvious ones (i.e. "I'm stressed, I can't think"), but for something quite a bit more longlasting. Intellectual pollution.
It's kind of like your mind (or soul, or whatever, will not go into details now) is a house on the side of a road. It starts being all nice and clean and empty, and then you move in and start filling it up with stuff, memories, people, emotions, chairs (I often feel as I have the need to go into my mind's living room, light up the fireplace and sit on a nice leather armchair I keep close by and either have my eyes wander around there, reflecting on souvenirs from places and people long gone, or just looking out the window into the surrounding world, feeling safe and calm). However, no mind can be unaffected by their surroundings. Some environments can be nice and calm, kind of like having a house in the country, where the passing of time brings with it other creatures to nest in the cracks of the walls and on the roof, and ivy that wraps the house around and transforms it into a mystical place. Other houses seem to be built on busy streets, where the pollution of passers-by dulls the colour of the house, etches away the plaster and, eventually, finds its way inside, into your sanctuary and makes you feel uncomfortable in your own mind.
I shall not say which of the two different environments is the best, as they are just different. And we all know that, living on a busy street may be stressfull and tiring and harmful, but it is also an exciting and self-renewing experience. Also, the ivy might look nice, but it will eventually eat its way through the walls, plus there's no one around you in your little quiet place to interact with. Both places have pros and cons and, luckily, some people's minds best resemble motorhomes, which can be moved around at will (though not always at their owner's will).
The thing is, sometimes you just need to stop working for a while, and deal with your house a bit. You need to. You go out on a morning or an afternoon, and you inspect your house on all sides. You look for cracks, dirt, plaster peeling off, damp patches, and then go about refreshing your house, in which you can then feel more content living. You refresh your house, you refresh yourself, You refresh your mind, you refresh your life.

A fresh place for the evening to gather your thoughts...
I wonder.

Interesting

2006-07-19T14:38:00.000Z

I find it very interesting that Life has its own little way of producing practical problems to obstruct the deep processes of thought and contemplation. It always seems to happen that way, and you find that the path of creativity, imagination and intellectual quest is suddenly missing a bridge somewhere along the way, and you plunge bak into the depths of triviality, where you have to wait for an unknown length of time in order to build back your strength and your motivation to ascend again where you know you belong. And all this journey you have done, all this struggle to reach halfway between the stars and the gutter, suddenly seems like a pointless and futile attempt, doomed to fail from the very beggining, like Daedalus trying to fly with clipped wings. It's like, in a metaphysical way, we are always bound by intellectual gravity, a force that constantly pulls us down into the lowest levels of a human state of mind. It is a torment, a pre-determined battle between everyday life and higher states of mind, with an outcome determined by the shear strength, persistence and repetition of common events which detract our attention, which stop our ascend and inhibit our climb towards something higher.

I was evicted from my flat yesterday.

Interlude

2006-07-14T20:59:00.000Z

Quiet. In my head. Music is on, but there is silence in my head. There is calmness in my soul.
I am pleased with my evening. Wishing you the same.

Salvation, Part I

2006-07-14T14:15:00.000Z

Today, I shall be discussing salvation. Not in the religious context, mind you, but rather in the spiritual, day-to-day-soul-anxiety way. And if this sounds a bit ambituous, and you are filled with doubt and repulsion by my attempt, keep in mind that I don't really care what you think, and we'll all be ok.
So what am I talking about? What, according to my own definitions, is salvation?
I think that, by and large, we are all discontent with certain aspects of our life. Things don't always go our way, people around us affect us with their emotions and actions, and we find ourselves responding to that with mixed feelings. It rarely seems clear what will come out of anything, and if it does, it's usually just wishful thinking. I think it's plain to understand that, if everything turned out to be how we wanted, everyone would be happy and I wouldn't even be talking about salvation. In reality, there's always a multitude of things happening around us that will cause us discomfort, concern, grief, anger etc. Wondering where this is going?
So far, there are two (and a half) approaches to releasing ourselves from this. The first one is to try and change some things around us (to whatever extent we can), and try hard to create a better world for us. The second approach is to try and change ourselves in order not to mind the negative things, or at least so that we are able to let the positive aspects of life dominate our souls, thus feeling bliss. The half approach is, quite simply, not to give a damn about anything. That's all very nice, but does it work? Does any of these theories actually work? Have people really ever achieved happiness through any single (or any combinations) of these approaches.
You guessed it. The answer is "We don't know".
There's a good reason for that, and that is that people really want to achieve happiness, they want to be liberated from their problems, they really, really do. With all their hearts, and all their souls, they do. And this means that they are willing to believe that someone has actually achieved happiness, that someone, somewhere has really been happy, content, care-free, you name it. To accept that no one has done it is to accept defeat and a life of (potential) misery, where the lack of satisfaction will be an ever reoccurring theme comin g back to haunt and hunt them. Us. Whatever.
Is there no answer then? Is there no hope? Is there no end to this?
To put it simply, no. It is hard to compress such a huge issue into one sentence (let alone one word), but not as hard as you think. See, from my point of view, there is a fundamental flaw in this thought process. There is a very basic aspect of nature, mind, spirit, religion, anything, that has been left out. It's like trying to feed your hunger without knowing that it is the lack of food that's causing it.
I think "hunger" is a very good word for what I am trying to describe here. Hunger, yes, but in a spiritual way. It is the need to feel complete, to finally have what makes you happy, to achieve what you want, but...
Since I'm running out of time here, I'll wrap this up by saying this. To me, salvation is not happiness, it's not something that you eventually reach. Salvation is the realisation that we are ever changing beings, with ever changing souls, always moving, evolving, changing, progressing, growing, learning and forgetting, loving and hating, suffering and being happy. It is the ability to experience all this, it is the experience itself that fullfills our souls and gets us going. It is the journey to Ithaki that counts.
But if you think that there is a hole in the column of the truth I am presenting, you are absolutely right.

This is not over yet.

Summer thoughts

2006-07-12T11:15:00.000Z

There are some beaches where the waves are very infrequent, but when they do come, they are huge and overwhelming, and the only thing you can do is just look at them in awe and get swept away.
There are other beaches, however, that have waves breaking onto them all the time, only these waves are smaller, constant, and when they go they are replaced byt he next ones. These beaches are quieter, nicer, more relaxing, and you can have a really good time on them.
All my life, I've been walking on beaches of the first kind, where the waves would just leave me breathless, where the sights were amazing, where the roar of the sea was too deafening to notice anything else. And I loved it. But you cannot swim in such sea, it's too overpowering. And you cannot pay attention to what's happening around you, because everything else is too small by comparison.
I am on a different beach now. I can swim in the sea. I can enjoy the sunshine. I can pay attention to my surroundings. It's calmer. It's relaxing.

But God, I so miss the roar of the waves!
Please forgive me.

Funny. But not "ha, ha" funny.

2006-07-10T16:04:00.000Z

Life's a funny thing, isn't it?
It seems to go on regardless of what you want, need, care for, dislike, ignore etc. It's just life, and it controls itself, not bothering to pause for explanations, breaks, time off or anything. And all we ever do is try hard to catch up with it.
I'm not talking about life in general (the usual "oh, life is so complicated, why can't people just get along" etc). I'm talking about our own personal life. My life your life. Their life. Our own little Master and Commander, holding the controls of what we do and what we can have. It's like we're just passengers, enjoying a ride with the driver called "My Life".
Now, before you start saying about how finally, I have been revealed before you for the pseudo-romantic that I am, please keep this in mind: I'm right.
Ha! You never saw that one coming, did you?
Here's the thing. You can try doing a lot of things in your life, and they might or might not work out how you expected. You want one thing, you need another, and you end up getting something else. And then you keep on complaining how your life is out of control, you wish you could change it, blah, blah...
I am providing an alternative to that. Your Life is not out of control. Your Life is in control. You also cannot change Your Life. Your Life has a mind of its own. You can try to influence its decisions and actions, but at the end of the day, it makes its own decisions.
So, instead of trying to inforce things onto Your Life, struggle to make it work the way you want it to, try a different approach. Consider yourself to be in a relationship with Your Life. This means that a) you cannot always get what you want and b) you can get some things, but only if you put your thoughts through in such a way that will make you both happy.
Try to learn what Your Life wants, needs, and is happy with. Then, try to find a compromise that suits you both. In that way, perhaps things can be a bit easier on both of you. And maybe, just maybe, you can learn to enjoy living with it.

Good luck!

Night time

2006-05-27T23:09:00.000Z

"Briiiing the booooys back hooooome!"

Pink Floyd blasting through my speakers, as I'm all alone in my (soon to be ex) flat. There are some obvious advantages at having a place of your own...
Anyway, have just been sorting through my photos. Having gone digital a couple of years ago, I must have... around 10 gigs of photos on my hard drive.
To those of you who will start saying how, with digital, photographs stop being special, I have this to say: No.
See, the ease (?) by which you can recall old pictures, review them and create new ones out of them is unsurpassable. It has been some time since I took some of the pictures I'm looking at tonight, and I was surprised to see how different I feel like making them look, based on my current mood. And yes, messing about with photos on your computer IS part of the art of photography (my definition is not to simply capture what you see, but also to depict the emotions underlying the photograph or the photographer - it's the difference between strict realism and everything else in painting). So, with effectively the same raw materials (initial picture), one can produce an almost endless range of different images, each addressing different aspects of a theme/mood.
That's all for tonight, nothing too profound.

You got off easy this time

Here I go again

2006-05-25T20:19:00.000Z

Well, I'm moving. Yet again.
I'm really getting tired of this, it's really not something I'm looking forward to. Even though my current place isn't exactly the best (well, far from it, but could be a hell of a lot better too), it's been the flat that I've stayed at the longest ever since I started living on my own. That must be... 10 months now. Wow.
I feel like I should've bought myself a caravan (or trailer house, for the Americans out there) and lived in it, and every few months just relocate. Alas, I have chosen the painful way of moving in and out and in and out and so on, so on..
I mean, come on, in the past two years I've stayed in (counting in my head) 5 different places. Statistically, that means I move out of a place after less than 5 months. I've known (heard of, at least) people that have stayed in hotels for longer, and I've definitely known someone who's spend more time in a youth hostel than I have in a proper flat.
Every single time, put my whole life in boxes and move somewhere else. Once I'm there, I don't even unpack most of my stuff, as I know I'll be moving out again shortly.
Speaking of which, my new flat is only going to be for the summer.

Great.

Do you know?

2006-05-22T17:28:00.000Z

Do you know how happy I get when you post a comment on my blog?
No?
Well, neither do I, as I'm the only person posting on my blog.
Which brings me to the point... Chances are, nobody is ever going to read my blog, unless they're my friends and I tell them about it. Interestingly enough, my friends already know how I feel or what I'm thinking of, and would therefore have no reason to read my blog.
The only chance that anyone is ever going to read my blog then is (except by accident, but that doesn't really count - not to offend the random viewer, but you know) for me to tell my friends and then fall out with them, or not make contact anymore.
To summarise, the only chance that other people will read my blog is if I'm lonely.
I bet you didn't know that...

Just thinking

2006-05-17T19:45:00.000Z

Well, it's kind of late to still be at work, but here I am. It's raining outside (Scottish summer on its way, right?), and I'm feeling quite moody and tired. Been working all day, will be working later on tonight as well.
I'm just thinking...
Is it really worth it? All of this? I mean, being in some country other than your own, having to put up with crappy quality of life, away from friends and family. You know what I mean. And if you don't, good for you. Honestly.
Byt yes, I'm just thinking. How would my life have been had I stayed home? Would it have been as bad as I had imagined it to be before I left? Is leaving everything behind to chase something really woth it?
Granted, I did what I wanted leaving. That's all really fine, but it's been two years now (almost), and I'm starting to lose my drive towards... what I thought I wanted? What I wanted not knowing how things would turn out?
I've never liked regreting things in my life, and (perhaps for that reason) I'm not going to say that I regret ending up where I am now. It's just that when it's the end of May, it's raining and it's cold outside, and most of the things and people you care about are out of your reach, you can't help it.
That's all for now. Just thinking...

Intro

2006-03-28T15:23:00.000Z

Well, this is NOT a post to describe the reason for this blog. It is NOT a justification of my actions. It is NOT an explanation on what drove me to do this.
It is simply my first entry