The Almost Daily Exploits of Me

Inspiration

2010-07-24T18:40:00.000+01:00

I sit. Pen in hand, notebook balanced on my lap. I have created a space in which to exist, to think, to be. Outside, my family talk and watch TV and carry on their lives; but here, in my space, I am alone.

Inspiration strikes like a ray of sunlight through the trees, and I cannot contain it. My mind and my hand race, each striving for the finish, my hand falling behind and my mind leaping ahead. The page fills with my handwriting.

Who knows how long I might stay like that? Maybe minutes; perhaps hours. I write until both my thoughts and myself are exhausted. I collapse into bed.

The next day, memories of my inspiration already dimmed by sleep, I revisit the notebook. I open it to the right page. "OMG I should totally rewrite Twilight!! This HAS to happen."

Screw you, Anna last night. Screw you.

Beep!

2010-07-21T23:42:00.000+01:00

Did you miss me? Did you? Oh. Well I missed you, my lovely blog and my lovely blog people! The radio silence is due to me moving house, and then having no internet for a couple of weeks. I'm going home to the Isle of Wight for a long weekend, but hopefully I'll be able to write something a bit more substantial from there!

In the immortal words of Will Smith

2010-06-28T03:31:00.000+01:00

"The weather is hot and girls are dressing less." I'm not sold on the grammar of that, actually, but who am I to question the Fresh Prince?

I can't think straight, it's too hot! I've got a couple of posts drafted that are awaiting the time my brain decides to play ball again. The way this summer has been going (and going, and going), that may be some time!

Twitter seems to be full of people who can't sleep tonight. All complaining about being sticky and uncomfortable and restless. It's the first 'proper' summer we've had since, oh I don't know, 2006? How strange to think that my blog goes back that far! In fact, tomorrow is my FIVE YEAR blogaversary. Crazy. Every now and then I go through the archives and reread old posts. It's like catching up with a girl that I'm not any more. We exchange stories, me and 17-year-old me, and I try not to let her see that I'm laughing at her a little bit. I'm sure she's extending me the same courtesy.

As first posts go, it's not at all representative of myself at that age. It's entirely school-focused - and, well, Big Brother? Dear me. Now if you want to see a post that really does represent me, check this one out! Me, leaving my work till the last minute? Heaven forfend!

Me in 2004, aged 16. My semi-goth phase. Throttling the lovely Becky.

Anyway, I could waffle all night, since sleep is apparently not an option, but I'll spare you that. Instead, here's an awesome game called Doodle God, in which you have to combine four starting elements in new and interesting ways until you have created, among other things, milk, zombies, and assassins. As always, the link will be going on the left.

Kilt and céilidh

2010-06-23T16:06:00.000+01:00

I spent the last week in Edinburgh, attending my sister's wedding and seeing the sights. I'm pleased to announce that, at the request of some very kind ladies and gents, I did indeed dance at the céilidh (pronounced kayley, it's a Scottish knees-up), at the expense of my ankle but not my enjoyment.

I'm sure photos will be going up, so you'll get to see my already-stunning seester looking radiant in her wedding dress. If that's your sort of thing. There will also be photos of my father and brother in kilts; if you're reading this, Mike, discretion will cost you.

I'm back in Cardiff now (after a pig-awful journey that was 7 or 8 hours, and 2 hours longer than it needed to be). I'm moving house in one week, so I've got to get on with packing and such, all while trying super-hard not to think of anything, because thinking makes me feel all confused and worried and I don't want that right now.

I really hope I get a dentist appointment soon... I'm so sick of this wisdom tooth being 'partially ruptured'; it's had at least 3 years to get its act together and has utterly failed to do so.

In other news, I'm going to be posting some short stories to Idle Scribe. I submitted them as university work and got pretty good feedback, so do have a read if you're interested.

Talk

2010-06-16T00:44:00.000+01:00

I wanted to curl up on the soft sofa, but the yurt is always packed. People shuffle up and perch on armchairs, always room for one more the merrier.

I sat in the tent with my hazelnut milkshake, and listened to the girls sing. It was an Irish song; close vocal harmonies, flowing up and out of them in cyan and green.

The stories were sublime tonight. A man and woman from Bristol sat or stood at the front. Him, reciting stories about Old Tom, his grandfather; her, playing vivid violet violin or her acoustic guitar, which sang in a deep sonorous blue. And the man from Bristol, oh, he built pictures so carefully, neatly alliterating the pictures in our minds. I wish, I wish, I could do that.

I am not a storyteller; I am a writer. The difference is tangible and harsh. I want to be a storyteller; I want to have the stage presence to take a roomful of adults on a journey; but I have seen my face when I speak and it is still and lifeless. I have seen my body when I move and it is awkward and girly. I have heard my voice when I talk and it is unclear and lazy; my once-sharp-cut vowels atrophied through years of misuse. I no longer talk to myself. That's where I lay the blame.

Spoken-word poetry is an art form. I have watched enough online in the past couple of days to stir up a longing in me. I want to be a performer. I am a poet, but not a performance poet. So what's it to be? Well, Anna? Are you going to sit behind your screen and write dead words for others to read? Are you going to spend your time alone? Or are you going to learn to eNUNciate! DRAmatise! emphasise! Are you going to learn to speak?

Life is a mystery, everyone

2010-06-14T03:29:00.001+01:00

Not sure what to say, really. That's never a good sign with me. Usually I either have something to say, or simply go without blogging for a few weeks, but these are special circumstances.

I'm feeling pretty down lately, for numerous and complicated reasons. If you're of a praying persuasion, I suppose you could pray for me? although I'm in two minds as to whether that actually works

Nothing is ever simple, is it.

Hope you're all well, I promise to think of something interesting to say once the blues have passed.

Where are the women?

2010-06-09T00:33:00.000+01:00

Is it so hard to have interesting, complicated female characters? Women who think for themselves? Is it so implausible that we might discuss something other than men in our free time? Ugh.

I've recently discovered something called The Bechdel Test. To pass, a movie has to fulfill these three requirements:
1) It must have at least two women in it,
2) Who talk to each other,
3) About something other than men.

Humble aspirations, you'd think. Half the world are women, surely most movies pass this test without even thinking?

Well, this video contains a list of movies that fail, I think you'll be surprised.

Yeah. They're not all pure testosterone movies. Ghostbusters? Wall-E? Toy Story, the Princess Bride, the Wedding Singer for goodness' sake! Are we that uninteresting?

Interestingly, one of the movies that passes this test is Legally Blonde. If you haven't seen it, it's about a beauty- and shopping-obsessed sorority girl who adores the colour pink. So far so blah, right? Especially given my feelings about pink. But this movie is possibly one of the most feminist mainstream movies I've ever seen. If you haven't seen it yet, UK types can watch it on iPlayer until Sunday. If you can overlook the fact that the main character has every advantage in the world (being insanely popular, pretty, and rich), it's actually pretty empowering (yes I just used that word) to see her surpass everyone's expectations and defy stereotypes. The sequel is more fluffy, but still passes the Bechdel test with flying colours.

Anyway, enough ranting from me. Todays interesting thing, although I give no guarantee that you will find it so, is the latest Nexus - an online magazine for creative writing. I've got one story and one poem in there, and I'm very pleased with it!

The peasants are revolting!

2010-06-05T16:34:00.001+01:00

Today, in Cardiff, there is an awful lot of protesting going on. The Welsh Defense League are protesting against Muslims, and Unite Against Fascism are protesting against the WDL. Taxi drivers are considering striking over the whole situation, possibly because they feel left out.

I was sat in the park reading my book, and I phoned my friend Ben to see if he was free. He wasn't. He was at "Well, sort of a riot I suppose" - said in the surprised tones of one who never expected to find himself at a riot, today of all days. I was not surprised. Ben has Political Opinions, and isn't afraid of voicing them. "The Nazis are in town," he continued, "and we don't like them." Well, quite.

I wished him luck, and went back to reading my book. Not because I don't care, you understand; I do, very much. In fact that's precisely why I wasn't there. You see, while other protesters may feel free to shout and throw things, I wouldn't. I'd be very quiet and polite about it all. In many ways, I concluded, that would be worse than not showing up at all. So I didn't.

So instead, I'm going to read up on the history of the two groups, go through the news coverage of the event, and formulate an opinion. One silly little opinion among thousands, of course, but mine nevertheless. I already know where I stand on the big issues (hint: racism is bad, mmkay?) but it doesn't hurt to do your research.

I love that Cardiff is full of people who care about these things. In fact, for the past couple of months the political graffiti artists have been out in force. Rather than the usual type of graf that gets hidden away in alleys and corners, this stuff is springing up alongside main roads; usually stencilled (quick and neat) or scrawled (angry red pen). Some of it's been up for a couple of months, but I've only just got around to sharing them, because... uh... I'm quite crap.

Loads of these are around; they were pre-election.

Also a few months old, quite poetic

Brand new, and accompanied by lots of anger and swearing. Worthy of inclusion for referencing 1984, which I only read the other week.

Similar style to "let hope rage", but different lettering.

Referring to the shops? The city?

Ending on a positive note. I know this graffiti artist has been in Cardiff for some time, but I can't quite place his characters.

No spoilers: LOST

2010-05-25T02:28:00.000+01:00

There will be reviews of the finale springing up all over the internet in the coming days. They will range from "It was AWFUL" to "it was AWESOME," but that's not what I want to cover here. I want to talk about the part it's played in my life.

One of the main reasons I'm sorry to see Lost go is that it has served as a very effective, if transparent, excuse for hanging out with people I like for many years now. My family got me into it, having decided after the first three episodes that they liked it. I'm sure that, for them, the novelty wore off several seasons ago; and perhaps I'd have lost interest too, if it weren't for Stephen.

Stephen Wills is my honorary big brother. I've known him for my whole life, and craved his approval for about as long; in fact I'd say he was pretty instrumental in inspiring my lifelong love of geeks. I knew him when he was a blond-haired little boy playing with marbles, when he discovered Sonic the Hedgehog, when he was learning to drum and getting girlfriends... I'm a couple of years younger than him, so there was quite a while when we didn't really talk, but then we found out we had Lost in common. For a couple of seasons, my brother and sister and I would go to his flat to watch it with him. Then when he moved back to Newport, and I started doing my gap year work there, I'd watch it alone with him (and believe me, if I'd known how to hit on guys when I was 19, I would have done).

I grew up and moved away, although possibly not in that order; first to Plymouth, where I was alone, and then to Cardiff. In Cardiff I met Dan X. I picked up more or less where I'd left off with Stephen; going round to see him on a weekly basis and watching the latest episode. That's continued, sometimes with more people and sometimes not, right up until tonight. It's one of the things that helped me get to know a few people in Cardiff, so I guess it's one of the reasons this feels like home now.

This obsession has fuelled many discussions with my friends, ranging from vapid soap-opera style drama conversations through to philosophy and metaphysics. I'm helping to indoctrinate my friend Ben into the world of Lost, through which he's getting to know Dan as well. It's good to know that it's still doing that.

So I suppose it's time I found something new to obsess over. Any suggestions?

Kawaii LOST - Hurley and Smokey, originally uploaded by Jerrod Maruyama.

Today

2010-05-23T00:18:00.000+01:00

Today I woke up. Today I bought a new skirt, from a charity shop: drapey and interesting, £2.99.
Today I went to the park and sat in the sun with friends.
Today I read some more of American Gods.
Today I had dinner and drank cider with friends, and played a Cardiff-based game of Monopoly that I lost and enjoyed.
Today, on my way home at midnight, I didn't so much as shiver. Barelegged and still warm in the middle of the night.

Summer days really do last longer. That's not nostalgia, that's the light. Today, there was so much light.

Copyright and the future

2010-05-17T19:05:00.000+01:00

Information wants to be free. Copyrighted information, government information, my information.
I can't locate the quote, frustratingly, but someone once said that computer memory will never get more expensive, slower, or less convenient. The world is opening up for people to share ideas, books, movies, and personal data across the world almost instantly.

To do so in the case of movies, for example, is definitely illegal; arguably immoral; but still very easy. And likely to get easier.

Did you know that copyright law, when first invented in 1709, applied for 14 years? By contrast, Paul McCartney (and thousands of other artists) hold the view that 50 years of royalty cheques aren't enough. (Please discount my opinion, but if you're not currently earning, maybe you don't need to live a life of luxury.) Most performers around today are aware that customers have the option to pirate their songs, and their responses range from the overzealous ('let's sue them into the ground as an example') to the cool ('I make this awesome stuff you might like, oh and also I need to eat.').

This blog is licensed under an Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Creative Commons license. Click on the CC license at the bottom of the page for more info.

I bring this all up because I'm trying to picture the future. It seems to me that, whether the privacy activists and lawyers like it or not, our society is tending towards total freedom of information. Everything about us will be available to anybody who cares enough to look. It will fundamentally change the nature of our society. It will change how we treat others (because we'll know we're being 'reviewed' online); it will change why we create things (because anything we write or film or draw will instantly be available to everyone); and it will change how we keep secrets (if we even have them at all).

I'm not trying to present some horrendous dystopia here; nor am I condoning illegal downloading or the abolition of copyright law. I'm only trying to sort out, in my own head, where I think the human race is going, and (accidentally, in the process) who's stopping us from getting there. If I knew no other life, would I really mind living in a world like that? I think my answer is no.

What do you think? Where are we heading?

Home

2010-05-12T00:45:00.001+01:00

I feel oddly restless when I come online. There was a time I'd go to a forum, but I've more or less abandoned those. Or I'd log in to IRC, but I don't do that any more. And since I restarted my twitter account (foolish, foolish me), there aren't many people to talk to there either. So I fire up my laptop, open firefox, and feel...

Unsettled. Unhomed.

My dissertation is going to be about home, and what that means. As a student, I move from house to house every year, so that's not home. My parents' house isn't home, not any more. Home has become something a bit more elusive, a bit less defined.

So, I suppose part of me is looking for something to get obsessed about. A website or event or group of people I can relate to, connect with, belong with. Likeminded people. Ah well, I can keep dreaming. There may well be thousands of people with minds a lot like mine, but I wouldn't know where to find them.

Who am I and what have I done with me?

2010-05-10T19:06:00.001+01:00

I have a rad dress!

My boyfriend, Gavin, had been keeping a secret from me for weeks. He insisted that I keep last Saturday free, and it wasn't until the morning that he told me why: he was paying for me to go on a shopping trip! His sister-in-law, Leonie, is an awesome lady and she was my style guru for the day. I got lots of lovely things, but I was most excited about the dress. Here is a picture of it on someone who isn't me:

It looks better on me. Sorry for the tiny pictures, these are literally the only pictures of it online as far as I can tell! I guess it's new. Makes sense, one of the girls who works at River Island asked me how it looked on. So: yay! Rad new dress!

I'm now looking for shoes to go with it (sorry guys, I'll talk about something a bit less fashion-based next time), and I'm getting hugely excited by a range Leonie introduced me to called Irregular Choice. They're very unusual. Some of them are just plain bizarre, but I am getting unfamiliar twinges of shoe-lust for some of their designs. Looky:

The best kind of weird, in my opinion. I know some of you may be thinking "Wow, she says how much she hates fashion disasters, and then says she likes these?" in which case I would formulate my reply thusly: LOOK! Look at the pretties!

So anyway I'm just going to hold my head in a bucket of ice water until I clearly see what I've become.

Ooh, I nearly forgot. Links.
River Island
Irregular Choice

Nellie the Elephant

2010-05-03T22:30:00.000+01:00

I'm rereading Unseen Academicals at the moment, by Terry Pratchett. The main character, Nutt, is obsessed with having Worth. He creates things, and he learns, and he helps, because he needs to be worthy. I understand how he feels.

I restarted my twitter account today. It was complicated - I had to change my username and details and delete that account, then start a new one with my original information. It was a bit of a snap decision, but I decided that I've let it matter to me far too much. Twitter doesn't matter, not really.

I'm relieved that I've been able to let go of that obsession with rank. I no longer care how many people read my blog, to be honest, since the only important thing for me was to write it. I wanted to prove that I could keep it up, and I've done that, by my standards.

I'm hoping that, once I've finished uni for the summer, I'll be able to spend the summer doing worthwhile things. Not spending all day on twitter; not reading dozens of blogs; but learning things, and doing things, and meeting people. That's what really matters to me. I want to practice playing the ukulele more, and I want to get better at calligraphy, and I want to read and write more. I know I say these things fairly often, but that's because it's good to remind yourself where you want to be heading once in a while.

And above all, I want to be ready for the adventures when they happen. A couple of weeks ago (I intended to write more about this, but the time has passed), I went to the beach. My friends asked if I fancied going. I was at Gav's, but dressed for adventure: jeans, trainers, everything I need in my rucksack; so I said yes, and we went.

I splashed about in rock pools, went paddling, sat on rocks, climbed into a cave, found spiral fossils embedded in the rock floor, and had maybe the best day I've had for many years. Because I was ready for adventure.
It's all very well to wait for these things to happen, but I think it's time I started doing random scary things again. Goodbye to the circus of internet drama, hello to making the most of my free time. Fingers crossed.

Fancy pants

2010-04-28T20:03:00.000+01:00

Some of you might remember my curious fascination with Wrong Jeans. For those who don't, or just want to look at bits of lady again, check the link. Well I've done a bit more hunting, and guess what! There are more Wrong Jeans out there, ranging from the sexy to the strange. Enjoy.

Not so much 'ripped' as 'carefully dissected.'

Ohhh... that's why they're called distressed...

Knees! Flaunt 'em if you've got 'em

A rare case of Doin' It Right

And, to close, What? No.

I promise to be back with some actual writing as soon as I get my essays etc. finished. In the meantime, please excuse me - I have to go kill some worms. Usually my conscience would object, but these worms are a) cartoons and b) armed, so they know what they're getting into.
Armed with weapons, not arms.
Worms with arms would be terrifying.
Worms: never grow arms.
For me.
Please.
Thanks, worms.

"Humor is the only test of gravity, and gravity of humor; for a subject which will not bear raillery is suspicious, and a jest which will not bear serious examination is false wit.": Aristotle

Life: that thing that stops one from blogging

2010-04-26T17:41:00.000+01:00

Well, the impossible seems to be happening! I'm (slowly) improving my eating habits, (mainly by snacking on bowls of cereal), getting on with my work (by being paranoid about deadlines and writing them down everywhere), and finding time to kill zombies and splash at the beach with my friends. Could be doing a lot worse! And as soon as uni ends, I'll work on the haircut-and-room-tidying stuff I've been letting slide.

My sister texted me today to say that she was trying on her wedding dress... it's really not long now, and soon I'll have a brother-in-law!

Oh yeah, about that. My sister's getting married. I've just realised that I don't actually write about a lot of life-related things on my blog, being caught up as I so often am by minutiae and trivialities instead. So, let's see, what things should you know...

I am still very much in love with my boyfriend, and have been with him for coming up to three years now. Weird.
I still live in Cardiff, and love it here, but I'm really missing home (again!)
I like Glee, and I feel no shame about this.
My twitter addiction continues unabated, having recently just passed the 10k tweets mark. In case you don't know how many that is in the grand scheme of things, it's this many: too. Too many.
Other things taking a back seat until uni finishes: Calligraphy, ukulele, photography, reading everyone's blogs. If I haven't commented on your blog in a while, leave me a comment here and I promise I'll catch up soon.

I love the website Hacked IRL. It's not quite as revolutionary as it could be, but the little graffiti / culture jamming examples it gives are pretty fun. Here are some of my recent favourites:

And here are some more pictures; unrelated, but awesome.

Elections I have survived

2010-04-23T00:55:00.003+01:00

"I don't like him. He looks like a monkey, his smile is fake, and he looks like he only pretends to like children."

Such were my erudite thoughts at the age of ten, when Tony Blair was voted in by the British public. I was only dimly aware of the whole proceeding, and that this meant saying goodbye to the man with the glasses. As I recall, Britain was slightly distracted by a dead princess at the time, but they got over that pretty fast.

For some reason they don't let you vote at ten, which is probably a good thing, or we'd all be serving under the Mighty Wizard Edmonds to this very day.

I tried cosmic ordering once. My pizza still hasn't arrived, High Wizard Edmonds.

There had been elections before that, of course; Maggie Thatcher was elected for the final time the year I was born. Hence my having no vivid memories of the fabled milk snatchery. I think I can be forgiven for not paying attention to these things when I was five, so the 1997 election was really the first time I noticed it - Glasses man versus monkey face, who will win?

Also there was Paddy Ashdown.

I do not remember this man.

The 2001 election was essentially New Labour's sequel. I don't recall there even being a discussion over who would win, and I certainly wasn't asked. This time I wish they had asked me - Prime Minister Anthony Head would have done great things for this country.

Sebastian agrees.

By 2005, I was disillusioned with British politics. Labour won again, but I didn't really care. It seemed like Blair and Bush were joined at the hip, we couldn't have one without the other, and change was a distant hope. With 9/11 still rumbling about in people's minds (or as we Brits call it, 9/11), there was a lot of noise and drama and not much risk of competition. The dynamic duo remained in the top jobs.

Blair and Bush

Prior to the 2008 political campaigns, I'd been rather unimpressed by politics, American politics in particular (I may even have made scatological references, which is understandable given the inspiration for that post). But then! Things got exciting in America. People were finally ready for Change with a capital Chuh; Obama got voted in, and for the first time I actually bothered to be 'politically aware.' I started getting itchy for an election over here. I finally cast off my voter apathy, and was all ready to make a difference, but the months rolled by and the election was never announced.

We had to wait five years for the next one. I'd occasionally ask when it was due, but nobody really seemed to know, or to be bothered by how horribly long it had been since the last one. Only five years, you might say, but from age 17 to 22 is an awfully long time - I've been at least three people since the last round.

Speaking of three people, this is the first time I can recall in which all three candidates have a fair chance at the prize. I'll try to be as impartial as I can here. Nobody likes Gordon Brown (I'm trying!), though many see him as necessary, and the lesser of two evils. David "call me Dave" Cameron seems to have polarised the nation into those who get their news from Murdoch and those who don't.

via @JonathanHaynes

Now, I was already leaning towards the Lib Dems, but I cannot stand Murdoch sticking his finger into the ear of politics and giving it a twiddle. A lot of people seem to feel the same way, and the tawdry excuse for journalism pictured above is why the #NickCleggsFault hashtag was trending on twitter today (and indeed still is). Whether that's portrayed as sarcasm or not will depend entirely on the newspaper, although the Guardian gets it.

My reasons for supporting the Lib Dems, then, are as follows: they are less corrupt. Not because they're better, or more moral - they may well be, but who can tell at this stage? - but because they've had less opportunity to be corrupted. They've been stood in the shadows for so long that nobody's bothered to buy their allegiance, and dammitall if that doesn't excite me. They're like a field that's been left fallow for years.

Will they win? No idea. Maybe we'll have a hung parliament; many say that's a good thing, though I've yet to do the research. One thing's for sure, for the first time in my memory, it's really a three horse race.

PS. From this, you might assume that I'm voting Lib Dem. Nope. I didn't get my random bit of paper off in time. They let you fill it in online, but then you have to print it off and snail-mail it to some office? WTF? So yeah, I really should have done my research sooner.

Found on Flickr 9

2010-04-13T00:20:00.006+01:00

Banksy Downtown LA, originally uploaded by Sonja Teri.

Mr Glass, originally uploaded by SiLver sKY.

Plus, some non-Flickry (but equally awesome) pics:

We don't want your kind here!

The graffiti pictures are in LA, where Banksy's documentary is premiering tonight.

Ooh, actually, while we're on photography, I thoroughly recommend This Isn't Happiness for interesting and unusual images.

Little Brother

2010-04-10T16:42:00.001+01:00

This is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside-down. Now I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how I stayed up way too late reading an incredible story.

Yesterday, while researching the Digital Economy Bill, I stumbled across mention of an ebook called Little Brother by Cory Doctorow. I knew the author's name, of course; Doctorow is something of a big noise on the interwebs, though I'd never read anything of his before. The Creative Commons license on Little Brother and the price tag (£0.00) intrigued me, so I downloaded the PDF and decided to come back to it later.

That night, I was in Gavin's spare room. Our sleeping patterns are so different (me being a student and all) that I usually bring a book with me to read until I get tired. In the absence of a book, however, I resorted to reading on my phone; PDF wasn't an option, but such is the magic of Creative Commons that it was available in loads of different formats. I ended up reading the HTML version.

For five hours.

I got wrapped up in the story: a teenage boy and his hacker friends. A government that responds to terrorism with shows of force. A prison kept secret from the public. All these elements caught me up and kept me reading, long past the point where it was just 'something to do until I got tired.' For the first three hours, I told myself that when my already-low phone battery died, I'd go to sleep; but when it finally did, I went downstairs and got my phone charger. I endured multiple phone crashes, every time patiently restarting and scrolling to where I'd left off.

At some points, I had to stop reading just to catch my breath and let my heart slow down. At others, I completely forgot where I was - I couldn't have cared less, all that mattered was the story! It's hard to classify, exactly. It's technically a dystopic, futuristic sci-fi, I suppose; but it could be non-fiction within a couple of years. That alone makes it deeply unsettling, and thoroughly in the spirit of Orwell's 1984, for which it was named.

Being the excitable little fellow that I am, I couldn't even wait until I finished it before telling the world. I announced on Twitter: "Head full of thoughts. Too excited to sleep. Damn... You KNOW when you're reading something that will change you." It's been an awfully long time since a book's done that to me.

Obviously, I can't promise that you'll react the way I did, or even that you'll like it. But I feel compelled to share it. There's a lot of information in the book about what you can legally do with it and why, and Doctorow's kindly allowed for the fact that I want EVERYBODY to read it. I have the PDF on my USB key; I will leave a copy on the desktop of everyone I feasibly can. Is he losing money on it? No, I fully intend to buy a copy, something I wouldn't have done previously. Another small victory for the new way of doing things, I think.

Read Little Brother for yourself. The link will go in my 'interesting things' sidebar.

PS I'm listening to a Podcast of the Lib Dem debate on the DE Bill, it makes for very interesting listening.
PPS For something less serious and more noodly, check out Spaghatta Nadle.

On the other hand

2010-04-08T22:35:00.000+01:00

When I was learning to write, I had a neat little system for when my hand (unused to all the complicated lettering) got tired. I'd switch to the other one. My teachers didn't notice, but I was ambidextrous until I was eight. Eventually, my mother picked up on the fact that my writing was a lot neater at some times than at others. She watched me writing, and noticed this little trait; something that hadn't seemed strange to me, and had gone unnoticed by everyone else.

My writing with my left hand was scruffy, and my writing with my right hand was neat. So my mother claims, and I suppose I should take her word for it; although as I'm mostly left-handed now (I eventually got used to all the strenuous words and settled on one hand) that seems strange.

I say 'mostly': I write, draw, and paint with my left hand. Most other endeavours - stirring a cooking pot, holding a tennis racket, lifting shopping bags - I undertake with my right.

I mention this now, because I'm starting at square one again. My boyfriend gave me a cute little calligraphy set a few months ago, and after suddenly deciding that I'm interested in typography, I've finally picked it up. But, you know, being a lefty has its disadvantages, including smudged ink and the nib being slanted in entirely the wrong direction. Oddly, I decided that the easiest way to tackle this challenge is to be right-handed for this. So I'm learning to write right from the beginning. I'm mastering an unwilling pen and a stubborn hand, and forcing them to comply, just like I did in primary school. And you know what? It's actually really exciting!

Shawna

2010-04-03T20:15:00.001+01:00

It puzzles me.
How can she be
So close to what I was?
A single voice
Of broken choice.
I'm scared for her because
I fought so long,
And went so wrong,
And she could stumble too.
And worst of all,
If she should fall,
I'd think our nightmares true.

Like me, she sees
The sky-wrapped trees
And wonders what they mean.
Like her, I saw
An open door
That promised things unseen.
And from her lips
And fingertips
I hear the words I'd use
To speak my fears,
And joy, and tears.
I think we share a muse.

Inspired by Shawna's blog.

EDIT: Alright, obviously it's time I unretired Creative Splurges. I don't really like that name, though, so I'm unretiring it at the new address of http://thiefree.blogspot.com/ Please join me there, that way I can stop poeming all over this one!

Who else? (no spoilers)

2010-04-03T19:39:00.000+01:00

A new doctor. A new body. Isn't that strange? Maybe that's why I can finally let go of Rose, and maybe now he can too. My friend Katie made the excellent point that all recent companions have been compared with Rose, and personally, I didn't warm to any of them in the same way. But now? A whole new body, a new companion, and in the words of Matt Smith: She's a ten.

Maybe that's just my thing for redheads cropping up again.

(To my American friends: I can't guarantee that the comments will be spoiler-free. Best avoid for now.)

Iambic, I am back.

2010-04-03T02:43:00.000+01:00

I made my home amidst the noise,
I wrote my dreams down small.
If truth be told now, girls and boys,
I'm blushing for it all.
For who am I to write a blog?
To think that it's worth sharing?
And are you not appalled by all
My arrogance and daring?

For five years now I've been the same,
With precious little to my name
Besides this blog - my paltry fame,
Both undeserved and fleeting.
But the fire of passion's heating,
And at last I've seen the light.
I've made a choice, and it feels right
So onwards! Upwards! To the fight.
The drums of war are beating
So it's time to have a meeting
(I hope there's sufficient seating)
And I've finally found my feeting and I'm not sure that's a word

But basically it's time
That I rediscovered rhyme.

Found on Flickr 8

2010-03-20T17:18:00.003Z

Left Turning Wool Orb, originally uploaded by tackyshack.

I love Tackyshack's photos! He's the best lightpainter I've seen on Flickr. Give the photostream a look if you're into that sort of thing.

Oh, I can't believe I forgot!

2010-03-04T22:12:00.005Z

If you haven't seen it already, here's a music video so thoroughly amazing that it deserves its own post.

Ok Go are renowned for their impressive music videos, indeed they're the main reason the band have become so well known. There's been a bit of a debacle lately over these videos, which is well worth reading. Viral vs. viewcount.