Repost from my other blog, but I think it fits in better here.

Google is a strange phenomena. They have lots of services that one can't find by following links off their own website; one has to find out about them. This is perhaps due to most Google products being almost perpetually in beta, but still, it's an odd promotion strategy. They have some fantastic stuff, but I find it unfortunate that they've moved away from providing services that work on older, slower machines and slow connections; both Gmail and Google Documents complain when I try to run them on my parents 30 K.B./S connection, although, in fairness, Gmail does provide solutions, in the form of making older, less demanding versions of the web page available, and a simple H.T.M.L. page solution.

Still. what I liked about their strategy from the beginning was that it opened up the 'net in a new way to a whole new constituency, much as Opera does. Lots of people have older computers, and lots of areas don't have broadband; web 2.0, with it's heavy dependence on Java, Flash and soon doubtless Silverlight, is a slow and frustrating place. One of the features about Opera that I loved when I was working on a Windows 95 machine was the turn off images button!

However, I found a partial solution when I was last back in Ireland; use the mobile web in your computer browser. It has limitations, but it's a whole lot faster; Yahoo, Facebook and Opera all have mobile pages, and lots of media organisations too. Although they lack features available of the regular web pages, they're a whole lot smaller, and feature no demanding plug-ins. No (fluff)friends on Facebook, but you can read your messages and not require blood pressure medication.

So, come on all of you technologically handicapped, join me in the third world of the internet, the mobile web. Population seven million and rising.

Until the iPhone kills it :)
That's strange, my carefully embedded hyperlinks didn't work.

Cool Iris.

For those using the Firefox browser, there's a great extension called CoolIris (used to be PicLens). Basically it's a button in the top right corner that puts all of the pictures on site which are enabled for it on a giant, movable wall, which one can zoom in and out of. It seems to work with all blogger sites. It seems to automatically follow the hyperlink embedded in the 'photo to the larger version, where such exists. One can display the 'photo in three stages, the last being full screen; and there are little previews available at the bottom if one desires.

It's great for checking out the pictures on a site with-out having to click backwards and forwards all of the time, although one does lose context. I just like it, it's cool.

Please do not feed the Irishman.

I was today an exhibit in an English class.  It was an English class for immigrants; my qualifications as exhibit being that I speak English and am Irish.  It's a little strange being the exotic foreigner to a bunch of other exotic foreigners; any of them could equally well have filled that role for me when I was studying Swedish.  What does one talk about?  What makes one's country special and unique?

I whittled on about rain and our very minority native language, and our appallingly expensive and ineffective state services, the things that leap out at me.  Luckily it only occurred  to me later that our true contribution to modern culture is probably guerrilla warfare; fighting in small, independent units on lightening assaults with-out resorting to hopeless open warfare, the end being attrition.  Possibly not what one wishes to advertise as ones major achievement in the current climate, especially as it's likely that several of the students are refugees from such conflicts and are probably facing repatriation.  Perhaps best to stick with leprechauns after all....

Physics and brain power.

When I was in school, I really sucked at soccer. I realise now that the fault lay in my premise for how the world functions. I would try and work out where the ball would come and be there waiting for it. But, of course, the ball was where it was because of a struggle, a struggle that my premise, that the ball would come to a location, excluded me from. Years later, it finally dawned on me to go to the ball, and lo and behold, I became much better at the game. That is, unfortunately, a true story. I am an idiot.

I believe that it reveals a truth that has value in a wider context. There is scant evidence we shall get the lives we desire by sitting back and waiting for them to come to us.

Hmm...

The sound coming through the wall sounded distressed. Perhaps it’s owner was not being kind to it. That, the temperature (cool heading on cold with a promise of moisture and an oppressive front of harsh, white light) and Graham’s (Ethel’s) own biology had him (her) sitting on the bathroom tiles, also distressed. Many people would think it great to able to experience the effect of being on drugs with-out the hassle of procuring, ingesting and suffering side effects of same, but not Graham (Ethel). He (she) rather tended to focus on the facet that left him (her) unable to not feel as if he (she) was popping through the door in the neural attic; the fact that he (she) was here, strung out on the bathroom floor on a Friday night, freaked out by (the very interesting, nice) noise (that would undoubtedly be kind to him ((her)) later) after the trip that never was. Joy, rapture, angels take him (her) away (after first spontaneously popping into existence, of course). (Are these brackets starting to annoy you? You could always paste the file into a text editor and remove them). (Pay no attention to my misery. Go right ahead).

(Okay, fine, be like that. I’m not writing any more).

Why?

It's the question we've been asking for some time now; I personally am convinced that Nietzsche hit upon the answer, namely, whatever we make of it. You may be convinced otherwise; this is important; what is, is defined by two factors; physical being, and what we imagine. Mostly, what we imagine is fairly seriously constained by our upbringing.

I'm very lucky; my upbringing has both been very loving and very challenging on the ego; I am prepared for the total perspective vortex; I am pointless and irrelevent, and so what.

What's important, exactly? Nothing lasts. So what? Intrisic value; huh? What am I even pointless and irrelevant to?

Except for your opinion, what frame of reference is there?

This question is often fobbed off with procreation; procreation creates a new responsibilty which makes ego a selfish luxury no longer worthy of adult consideration; but this is merely passing the buck to the procreated, who may then choose to ignore the question in a similiar fashion; it's not an answer, it's an excuse for no longer asking the question.

Socrates's great discovery was that; wisdom is the knowledge that we know nothing. This is still true; one may believe in many things, for example, science, a god, evolution, space, geometry; whatever; you are still taking some-one's word for it; even if you think you have direct access to primary data, trusting that data is an act of faith in the acquisition of that data; Descartes great discovery. We have a dubious reasoning facility attempting to cope with dubious data; it's no wonder that we can't agree on anything.

Professionally tired.

We have an evening shift in work at the moment, which is providing me with a tantalizing reminder of what it was like when I wasn't tired all of the time, as it means a six hour working day instead of eight, and, better yet, not having to get up at five in the morning. Getting up at five probably doesn't represent a challenge for those who can fall asleep on cue. I'm a totally different person at the moment, with energy and enthusiasm. I suspect that I'm also doing the job better. It's a pity that it's only temporary.

I read (coincidentally) in the paper that a shoe factory that introduced shift work, with six hour shifts instead of eight, found that sick leave fell from 17% to 4%. There is something wrong when sick leave is at 17%. What must it be like for workers in China, with twelve hour shifts. I want Fair Trade marks on everything, not just my chocolate and bananas, work should not deprive one of a life.

I want... (not going to happen and, anyway, not environmentally considerate).

L.C.D. wallpaper linked to my computer... I'd start off with opening credits scene from "Mars Attacks!"... with music. Yes, my girlfriend will definitely go along with that. She can have scenes from Gladiator next week.

Silly renewable energy idea/stream of thought.

Let's burn some deserts and turn them into solar panels; dig tunnels underneath, let moisture collect, create hydrogen... start running cars on this. Sure, it'll be that easy. That's the great thing about not being burdened with a lot scientific information, I can rush to conclusions with-out being burdened with seeing the potential difficulties. Think I'll become C.E.O. in the dreamscape. I'll get paid in dream currency.

...next week, a really, really big mathematical equation.

Vascillation.

Beginning to think that my entire life is finding things that I don't need to do and doing them, instead of doing what I want to do, which is scribble. Think I might be afraid of the page. Time to move into a cave and start eating bugs, write on leaves with charred sticks. Work? Friends? Mindless internet reading? Bah!

I just took a look at my new friend's friends and I now feel really boring.

I have a myspace page that I have never maintained, never done anything with, and still occasionally get friend invites on; my latest myspace friend (will this become a new adjective?) has some really interesting looking myspace friends. I blend into the wallpaper by comparison.

I'll just have to compensate with my massive ego. Thank you Mr. Nietzsche; first you help me fill the void that religion left when it walked out the door (fill it with ego; what else can you call the instruction to create your own meaning, morality?), and now you help me stare in the looking glass, face the spectre of my blog laziness, and go "Eh". Not so much a philosophy as a way of life.

Of course, we all have to create our own meaning and morality anyway, even if passively. Massive ego is normal; natural; perhaps necessary; it's just that it's not always obvious.

No hiding. No lies.

I wonder if that's possible?

Hello Saferide played Nefertiti yesterday...

...and both they an their backing band were great. Several new songs were played, which was not the usual frustrating experience, because you could actually hear what she was singing. Very funny, bittersweet. Recommended.

Hello Saferide

Why religion is not for me.

Belief not a choice. I don't choose to not belief in a divine mover, I simply don't.

I used to be a Roman Catholic; I came to asking myself why I gave creedance to this faith over any other, for example, Islam or Buddhism, and I couldn't find an answer to my satisfation; I simply don't see any evidence that gives weight to any one belief over another; it's all anecdotal; and they do contradict each other. Once one realises this, one asks why any of them has to be true.

I don't have any answers to the big questions we have. I understand those who believe that there must be an underlieing reason to how the universe came about beyond chance; maybe they're right; I don't know.

The evidence available is existence. One makes of that what one will. For me, it's enough information for me to derive the conclusion that we exist.

Everything else is speculation and opinion.

It's 5.07 A.M. and the keyboard is clacking...

...but has it anything worth saying? Does anybody? Should we just stop talking altogether? Silent movies could back in fashion.

But there's still stuff going on the requires comment, censure. The U.S. bombing Pakistan yesterday, because, they could, because they are apparently beyond any reprisal other than disapproval; bombing in general, because it's nasty and indiscriminate; Chinese industrial labour conditions; Russian state aggression; nations going along with America's current disregard for international law, including, unfortunately, my own (Ireland); the many countries where women are second class citizens; et cetura.

It would be nice if we could all afford to shut up, but it's just not an ethically tenable position.

Property.

I think that any-one still referring to themselves as a Communist or a Capitalist is living in the past. The increasing mechanisation of industry is making worker solidarity moribund. We can't all work in service industries, can we? So, what's left? Mass unemployment? That seems to be the road we're headed down.

I heard a man on the radio saying that it wasn't the state's responsibility to provide for the people. Oh? Who is it that enforces the system that allows ownership, and provides checks that are intended to see that no-one need starve (as long as they live with-in that states borders, at any rate)? What are states foe exactly? Defence and justice, surely.

The old systems seem ill equiped to cope with a world that will require only a small percentage of the population to toil fulltime (if this is what actually comes to pass) and I think most humans need to work in order to stay healthy.

We need new solutions.

Treatises on the back of a postcard. Tyrannies need not apply.

I think I'll explore the issue in a work of fiction. Yup, that'll be a hot item at Waterstones...

Compressed time, A.K.A. the overtime phenomena

I've been working a great deal of the time lately, doing the maximum overtime allowed. It's making me extremely jealous of the free time I do have; I want to spend my free time doing what I want to do, which is, as it turns out, writing letters in cafes and going to the pictures. Hugely imaginative. It's made me realize that the internet has taken up the position that T.V. had earlier in my life; eating up huge amounts of time, with dubious return.

I think an extended bout of ludditery is called for.

Writing on mindspace.

I've become acutely aware of the limations of my mind over the years. Often my opinions are formed on the basis of as little as one sample. I think that's how the mind works; we experience, we generalise; we hear a story, we generalise; it's not possible to research everything exhaustively, we have to extrapolate.

This can result in us thinking that we know a lot more than we, in fact, know. A few times now my girlfriend has reliably informed me on points of Swedish law (she's a native Swede and I'm not) and later been contradicted by experience, literature or the relevant government authority. I frequently relate something I've read or heard via the media and am met with disbelief. Perhaps we require a greater degree of certainty than is usually possible in order to function, I don't know.

The upshot is, what information we do get becomes very important; we extrapolate it into a whole world. Friends, the media, governments, friends, books, school...

Russia wants Sweden to curtail media reports on Chechnya
(here), Californian college professors may have to start being very carefull what they say (here), we swim in a sea of advertising with but one aim, to sell, etc., etc.

So, what do you know?

Intellectual property.

A weird notion. That a person/entity can own an idea, and can leave it to their children. In America, Sonny, of Sonny and Cher fame, tried to have copyright extended eternally. Disney would always own Mickey Mouse. Presumably somebody would own The Three Musketeers, The Merchant of Venice and... the Bible! Cooool. Churches would have to pay if they wanted to do public performances. If they could prove lineage, which is, unfortunately, about as likely as a man on the Sun next year. Could happen...

Could be interesting. All of those mathematical equations could suddenly become property. Every machine and computer programme that uses them would suddenly be liable to ransom. The D.N.A. maps could remain patented forever, scientists poised to pounce on the next mutation. I might have to pay Socrates's heirs every time I don't know something. The possibilities are limitless!

Yes, yes, I know patents and copyrights are not the same (although the term "patent" is becoming broader all of the time. Once upon a time, to be a patent you had to be a substantial technical innovation. Amazon are patenting or have patented the ability to infer from purchases). I was just having fun. I doubt think eternal copyright is really on the cards. Patents only last seventeen years, and involve publishing the intimate details of your innovation.

Intellectual property is supposed to encourage and protect innovation and creativity, finitely. That's it's upside. Monopoly on an innovation or idea can hinder it's progress and diffusion. That's it's downside. It's a balancing act.

Gestalt

I had my first experience of this phenomena when I first went to college (Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy). I studied philosophy. The gists of the courses were not new to me; I had already encountered just about every idea perpetuated in the field through my book-a-day science fiction habit. (True substance abuse). They had permeated through our culture, our politics.

It's an interesting phenomena. Not too many people have actually read the texts, even people who have studied them; (a lot of course revolve around second hand critique); how do they spread? Where is the mneumetic conversation taking place? It often precedes publication. Darwin published his treatise on evolution when he did because he knew some-one else was going to publish the same notions.

Be carefull what you say on the bus...

Spleen

I was saddened when Alexander the movie received criticism for featuring homosexuality. Besides being a neanderthalic prejudice, it distracted from the many valid reasons for criticism. This is a strong contender for worst movie ever made.

I will say first that this film has a marvelous cast. But it really doesn't help. Really.

It's almost totally ahistorical, but that's standard practice. It's irritating if you know something about Alexander's life and deeds (I studied him college), but the people I feel sorry for are the ones who walk away thinking they've been exposed to an educational experience. There is a small book in explaining how wrong this assumption is. It'd write it, but it would involve watching the movie again. But the rather liberal interpretation of the available information is a side issue in explaining why this is a strong contender for worst movie ever made.

The script is dreadful. Mind-bendingly dreadful. It's deficiencies take several forms. I shall enumerate them;

1) The dialogue is actually a series of monologues. Every-one is apparently reciting excerpts from their autobiographies, or treatises on whatever is at hand, letters to whomever they are talking to, letters to the editor, political speeches, self-help manuals... It's certainly not conversation.

2) It's portentous. I sometimes like portentousness, it can lend atmosphere. Here, it lends to the tedium. The tedium doesn't need adding to, it's already oversubscribed.

3) It never knows when to stop. Anthony Hopkins has a monologue at the end that goes on for several minutes. You keep thinking it'll end, hoping, praying it will end (this Anthony Hopkins! He could probably read the ingredients of soap and make it sound interesting), and it does, eventually, but by then you slipped even further into a coma and are in no fit condition to cheer. Colin Farrell seems to spend half the movie looking off into space and holding forth at length on, oh, whatever, but always passionately.

4) It's badly written. It's a bad series of portentous monologues that never know when to stop.

Aside from the script (perhaps) the film features other flaws that inhibit it from greatness. Such as?

Pointless time jumps. I have nothing against time jumps. Highlander, Once upon a time in America, Godfather part two, Once upon a time in the West, For a few dollars more, and probably other films that weren't by Sergio Leone... Many great films feature them. But usually they follow a rationale. Usually they aren't apparently random and unconnected. Here, it's like they put a couple of reels in the wrong order.

Sins of omission. While I said that the lack of adherence to historical accuracy was a side issue, not mentioning almost any episode that might actually have been exciting or interesting seems a dubious policy. Alexander, as the posters implied, was the stuff of legend made real. (I make no moral judgement here). Does it mention the phalanx? Any of the innovative ways that he overcame apparently unassailable fortresses by looking at the problems from another angle? The political methodology whereby he kept a grip on all of the peoples behind him? The Gordian Knot? Does it hell. It does feature a couple of battle scenes, the second of which is shot in a vivid and pretty colour scheme, and both of which illustrate that he fought at forefront of his army. So that's something.

The most laughable sex scene ever committed to film. Alexander wins over his bride by making kitty-cat claw gestures and noises. There's more, but that's definitely the stand-out feature.

I could go on, but this film has already eaten enough of my life. The only thing epic here is the ineptitude. It actually made me feel nauseous.