Gave myself a dose of the jinx today with my NOT want towards work. Train was late on the way to work and I came THIS close on the local station to saying fuck the money and walking home and calling in sick.
Not that I'd have been paid for it. I signed a contract where my work is poorly paid, sick leave isn't covered, I get no bonuses at all and I still have to give notice that I'm going to take time off. I wouldn't stick with it if it were not for the poorly pay. I need every last cent. Grrr!
Anyway, late, unimpressed and slightly hungover (the three day kind of hangover - you know, the slow ache in the pit of your stomach and full body realisation of the punishment you've recently been giving it) at work to find a heavy schedule of work and bullshit meetings interrupting the productivity process.
So I stayed late to finish up and complete my precious 'billable' hours. And leaving late from work, I find that the rail network is still in flux and I get to wait another 30 minutes going nowhere. I tell you some Mondays just ain't worth waking for.
--
Fortunately, I've not let the work and transport issues impede my life-o-solo. And I made good on my promise to hang out with JJ and book with him a boys weekend away. That's done now and I'm home blasting Hurt out of the surprisingly loud little speakers I ordered off Amazon in a rash display of my earning potential. The trip that's lined up should be fun. It is going to be cheap enough and happily sandwiched in the Friday after 4pm to Sunday midnight slot of NOT interrupting my 'billable' hours.
--
JJs got a set of scales at the flat. The digital kind, one tap to turn it on, large LCD screen etc. etc. which appeals to my gadget needs. It says that I weigh a lot less than I thought, especially given all the bloody beer I've ended up drinking in this place. I'd not trust the scales, except other users seem to think they are bang on (maybe we are all delusional). If they are right I've never been less substantial than I am right now!
I think I'm mirroring this insubstantiality in many facets of my life right now.
...
11 July 2006
10 July 2006
grumble
I really do NOT want to go to work today!
*grumble, grumble, mutter*
Have the house to myself for the next week, so aim to surf the internet in peace and write the occasional post. Keep a lookout...
*grumble, grumble, mutter*
Have the house to myself for the next week, so aim to surf the internet in peace and write the occasional post. Keep a lookout...
29 June 2006
Break
Walking home from the train, I got snuck up upon by my afternoon nemesis. Yes, I'm being stalked by a deaf 100 year old paedophilic ice-cream pusher. How do I know he is deaf I hear you ask? Well you might assume that wrinkly old fuckers made a bad impression on me once, and that I'm bringing every last one of my anti-old-people stereotypes to bear on him; hence he is old, paedophilic, toothless, wrinkled, worthless, deaf etc. etc. But that is not entirely the case.
No this malicious fucker, is deaf because of his modus. He sneaks up with his ice cream on unsuspecting children and plays them the moving tune of "come get a snow-cone" in a Gary Glitter-esque grooming kind of way. Every-freaking-day!
And judging by the VOLUME that the bastard now plays this tune, I'd suspect that the last vestiges of his senile hearing have long since vanished, blown away by the MEGAPHONE styled speakers BLASTING the oft'licked, never beaten tunes.
Given this, you may well ask how this could possible sneak up on me. I'll explain...
It all started in Florence, Italy, this Sunday passed. Awaking from a drunken slumber, the Sunday resolved into a 35+ degree clear sky day. The only pressing engagement? A swim in the villa's pool, a leisurely lunch and a relaxed return to London via Bologna where the cheap flight advocates Ryan Air fly from... Bologna? Hardly. At 70 kms distant, Bologna, Fiore can hardly be called B O L O G N A!
It started at about 2pm with a 45 minute drive to the Florence Station, thanks to the handy get-to-and-fro hired car the organisers of our little Italian soiree had hired. It was efficient, air-conditioned and on time. It didn't get any better than that.
Que Florence Stazione Centrale (actually is called something else but my Italian's limited, so bear with me). Sunday. We had no tickets. There seemed to be thousands of others in the same position. Fuck...
It took an hour and a half, three ques, multiple swear words and a few free Nesteas (Limone flavour) to work out that the next available train was the only non-EuroStar inter-city at 6.30. That meant arrival in Bologna at least an hour and a bit later, leaving us preciously short of time to traverse the 70 or so kms I've previously mentioned between the city and the CHEAP airport... Needless to say that the overbooked train packed with Italians, sans air conditioning (on account of the fact it was broken), got us in late, too late for the 10 euro a ticket for a last-bus-to-cheap-airport bus. Fuck...
A quick internet mission dispelled the option of aborting the cheap flight in favor of another , easier to get to cheap flight. They didn't exist. In fact I can think of ways of hemorrhaging money cheaper than the prices of some of the alternative tickets that were optioned for us in our quick search. That left us the taxi option. And that would have been fine, it was air conditioned, it was fast, it was so fast in fact it clawed its way back in the past to make up for some of the train's lateness. It also cost the earth. Fuck...
And to help the ongoing saga, our arrival at the check-in counter, just before closure, was met with helpful PA announcement that we'd better clear security asap. Hurriedly we were patted-down, our bags were scanned and we rushed to the waiting room only to find a helpful LCD screen at the gate flashing a very unsettling "Delayed". Fuck...
The knock on effect was comical. Our plane didn't land to pick us up till well over an hour late. That meant that we didn't have a change in hell of catching the last Stansted Express. Which meant that we'd be taking the bus, a helpful alternative given the news rushing around the other waiting passengers that the M-whatever-the-fucking-number highway to London was closed due to an accident. But that ended up being OK cause we were SO late that Stansted Airport itself decided to shut itself down for maintenance 10 minutes before our updated arrival time was due to land there. So we got diverted to Luton. Luton? Yeah, well I've got no idea where that is either! Fuck...
To cut a long story shorter that the actual 15 and a half hours it took us to get home, we did--get home. It was late. Or early. Depends on your perspective I guess. Either way I had to get up FAR TOO SOON after falling asleep to go to work. I haven't caught up yet. In fact I'm in a daze, and it is precisely that daze that allowed the ice-cream truck to sneaky-sneak up on me. Fuck...
No this malicious fucker, is deaf because of his modus. He sneaks up with his ice cream on unsuspecting children and plays them the moving tune of "come get a snow-cone" in a Gary Glitter-esque grooming kind of way. Every-freaking-day!
And judging by the VOLUME that the bastard now plays this tune, I'd suspect that the last vestiges of his senile hearing have long since vanished, blown away by the MEGAPHONE styled speakers BLASTING the oft'licked, never beaten tunes.
Given this, you may well ask how this could possible sneak up on me. I'll explain...
It all started in Florence, Italy, this Sunday passed. Awaking from a drunken slumber, the Sunday resolved into a 35+ degree clear sky day. The only pressing engagement? A swim in the villa's pool, a leisurely lunch and a relaxed return to London via Bologna where the cheap flight advocates Ryan Air fly from... Bologna? Hardly. At 70 kms distant, Bologna, Fiore can hardly be called B O L O G N A!
It started at about 2pm with a 45 minute drive to the Florence Station, thanks to the handy get-to-and-fro hired car the organisers of our little Italian soiree had hired. It was efficient, air-conditioned and on time. It didn't get any better than that.
Que Florence Stazione Centrale (actually is called something else but my Italian's limited, so bear with me). Sunday. We had no tickets. There seemed to be thousands of others in the same position. Fuck...
It took an hour and a half, three ques, multiple swear words and a few free Nesteas (Limone flavour) to work out that the next available train was the only non-EuroStar inter-city at 6.30. That meant arrival in Bologna at least an hour and a bit later, leaving us preciously short of time to traverse the 70 or so kms I've previously mentioned between the city and the CHEAP airport... Needless to say that the overbooked train packed with Italians, sans air conditioning (on account of the fact it was broken), got us in late, too late for the 10 euro a ticket for a last-bus-to-cheap-airport bus. Fuck...
A quick internet mission dispelled the option of aborting the cheap flight in favor of another , easier to get to cheap flight. They didn't exist. In fact I can think of ways of hemorrhaging money cheaper than the prices of some of the alternative tickets that were optioned for us in our quick search. That left us the taxi option. And that would have been fine, it was air conditioned, it was fast, it was so fast in fact it clawed its way back in the past to make up for some of the train's lateness. It also cost the earth. Fuck...
And to help the ongoing saga, our arrival at the check-in counter, just before closure, was met with helpful PA announcement that we'd better clear security asap. Hurriedly we were patted-down, our bags were scanned and we rushed to the waiting room only to find a helpful LCD screen at the gate flashing a very unsettling "Delayed". Fuck...
The knock on effect was comical. Our plane didn't land to pick us up till well over an hour late. That meant that we didn't have a change in hell of catching the last Stansted Express. Which meant that we'd be taking the bus, a helpful alternative given the news rushing around the other waiting passengers that the M-whatever-the-fucking-number highway to London was closed due to an accident. But that ended up being OK cause we were SO late that Stansted Airport itself decided to shut itself down for maintenance 10 minutes before our updated arrival time was due to land there. So we got diverted to Luton. Luton? Yeah, well I've got no idea where that is either! Fuck...
To cut a long story shorter that the actual 15 and a half hours it took us to get home, we did--get home. It was late. Or early. Depends on your perspective I guess. Either way I had to get up FAR TOO SOON after falling asleep to go to work. I haven't caught up yet. In fact I'm in a daze, and it is precisely that daze that allowed the ice-cream truck to sneaky-sneak up on me. Fuck...
18 June 2006
LOST, Cricket.
Caught up with the final episodes of LOST Season 2 a week or so ago, and am pleased to report that there is enough 'hanging' to make me want to catch up with the Season 3 when is airs later this year. In fact the final cut scene was for me the most interesting of the season. Though undoubtedly it will create yet another season's worth of material to explore and un-resolve...
I'm not sure why LOST is 24 episodes long easch season. It doesn't need to be. It should be shorter, and give better pace to the action. Like I've said before the slow-motion montages should be cut and and lo the season could be dropped to a more managable 20 episodes or less..
Speaking of long losses, played a game of cricket for the first time in about 12 years. It was a work organised 20/20 game. We lost. I batted (scored 13 - lucky for some) and bowled (I opened an unrewarded 4 overs for 22 runs). In all I was a 9 run deficit for the team. Games as long as cricket shouldn't have statistics. All that time and I amounted to -9. Silly game. It did make me thirsty for a G&T. Awfully brittish...
I'm not sure why LOST is 24 episodes long easch season. It doesn't need to be. It should be shorter, and give better pace to the action. Like I've said before the slow-motion montages should be cut and and lo the season could be dropped to a more managable 20 episodes or less..
Speaking of long losses, played a game of cricket for the first time in about 12 years. It was a work organised 20/20 game. We lost. I batted (scored 13 - lucky for some) and bowled (I opened an unrewarded 4 overs for 22 runs). In all I was a 9 run deficit for the team. Games as long as cricket shouldn't have statistics. All that time and I amounted to -9. Silly game. It did make me thirsty for a G&T. Awfully brittish...
02 June 2006
broken links
Sorry, have been away -- an enforced absence due to the bloody computer failing to maintain stability and a coherent registry file. Wasn't exactly the perpetual "blue screen of death'', but it was a terminal issue that is ONLY just resolving itself; that is if the bloody Windows Update does its stuff and installs stuff instead of crashing. Helpfuly the MSN messenger icon has appeared (I wonder if through a successful update) which is odd given that the registry file corrupted trying to install MSN a couple of weeks ago.
Anyway, this combined with the fact that the NEW JOB (now over a month old) won't let a) personal cell phones b) private web browsing c) private e-mail and d) spare time (I'm perpetually busy doing NOTHING) I feel as if there are MANY more broken links out there that I need to reinstall.
Slowly folks, slowly. First I gotta stop talking like a bloody computer!
Anyway, this combined with the fact that the NEW JOB (now over a month old) won't let a) personal cell phones b) private web browsing c) private e-mail and d) spare time (I'm perpetually busy doing NOTHING) I feel as if there are MANY more broken links out there that I need to reinstall.
Slowly folks, slowly. First I gotta stop talking like a bloody computer!
13 May 2006
Pay dirt...
yes, the pay is dirt, but at least the dirt came through, in its meager trowel sized shovel, today.
and with it i'm off. yes, 'tis sal's dirt-h-bay next week and to celebrate we are off to italia. yay! first continental excursion is afoot. will write post the event to tell you just how much fun it all was. i'm looking forward to good coffee and pesto. fyi the location is cinque terre wherever the feck that is (poor sal had to organise her own travelling birthday this year!).
and that reminds me, a year ago on the 7th of may, we left NZ. fuck me time flies. this time last year we were in Bali, heading for Flores, drinking arak, sweet&nasty arak...
quick shout out to the NZ folk who will gather in my absence this weekend at Rumpletron. stiltskin!
have a bottle of piper-heidsieck (a perk from bar work) to drink in celebration of the upcoming holiday, so i'm off to sozzle. wishing you all well.
and with it i'm off. yes, 'tis sal's dirt-h-bay next week and to celebrate we are off to italia. yay! first continental excursion is afoot. will write post the event to tell you just how much fun it all was. i'm looking forward to good coffee and pesto. fyi the location is cinque terre wherever the feck that is (poor sal had to organise her own travelling birthday this year!).
and that reminds me, a year ago on the 7th of may, we left NZ. fuck me time flies. this time last year we were in Bali, heading for Flores, drinking arak, sweet&nasty arak...
quick shout out to the NZ folk who will gather in my absence this weekend at Rumpletron. stiltskin!
have a bottle of piper-heidsieck (a perk from bar work) to drink in celebration of the upcoming holiday, so i'm off to sozzle. wishing you all well.
05 May 2006
I got paid!
Thank the sweet-sweet capitalistic Lord, I got paid this morning! I might just have to celebrate by drinking most of it...
Lost Season 2 Episode 12
For want of not revealing MASSIVE spoilers I'll just ask this wee question.
wtf?
wtf?
22 April 2006
Lubricated
Well currently felling as though communication is divine (pigphone - sadly all google searches for the old party site have long since vanished) and am mentally well lubricated because of My Best Friend's chat that has just concluded and in which games of Rock Paper Scissors were played over the distance of half the world (wtf?) and that was also fuelled by a whiskey or two. It is after 2pm so hey, what the hell.
Anyway I thought I'd get back on the blog and type random shit. Last day of unemployment. Shit.
Am listening to The Fragile by NIN and am reminded by my earlier post of the Neuromancer film preparative work that I carried out in my head many moons ago. I was hoping to get Trent to do the music, but well, seeing as it was a theoretical exercise anyway decided that he was on board anyway. So it was great to think about the music for Neuromancer the movie a la NIN, and then it quickly became a compilation album with Neuromancer themed music that I put out on my own record label under some fucked up DJ handle like Lupus Wonderboy or some such something.
Daydreams ARE free!
Anyway I got it down to a two-disc compilation. First disc appropriately titled 'The Sprawl' would kick off with the excellent NIN instrumental 'A warm place', replete with its wasp hums and atmospheric build up and would then lead straight into 'Eraser'. The shot for the credits that opened with it (sadly cliched) are already penned in a notebook somewhere and play in my head whenever those two songs play side by side. Second disc notable tracks on the 'Freeside' (fuck I'm a geek) CD would be The Nomad's version of 'For the Love of It' which has this beautiful build-up that I always equate with Case's departure from Morocco to wake plugged into a terminal in space with hypoderm's in his arm and drum'n'bass piping LOUD through headphones, his heart only just having survived the flat line...
The other notable, is David Holmes 'Don't die just yet' which for many many many reason is SO appropriate for Armitage's death scene. The sonar ping just fits the scene so well and the atmosphere of the music is totally tragic mirroring the way that Case reacts.
And this is the mental space that I go to when I'm having fun and thinking of HOME. It is scary that stuff like this, unrealised and creative and so meaningful (to me), only ever exerts itself when I feel connected to the world and my place in it. That is exactly why I love Neuromancer. It makes me feel connected to this earth. I have no idea why. And I guess that is why I love coming back to it whenever I've done something that reassures my faith that I'm not about to fly off the face of this world, inconsequential and void.
And of course I'd be thinking NONE of these thoughts at all if it weren't for alcohol. Don't even get me started about that. I'm for another dong. Probably won't even remember any of this. That is the devil.
--
"Don't die.." is playing in the background and soaring like it was meant to in its stuttered climaxes...
Anyway I thought I'd get back on the blog and type random shit. Last day of unemployment. Shit.
Am listening to The Fragile by NIN and am reminded by my earlier post of the Neuromancer film preparative work that I carried out in my head many moons ago. I was hoping to get Trent to do the music, but well, seeing as it was a theoretical exercise anyway decided that he was on board anyway. So it was great to think about the music for Neuromancer the movie a la NIN, and then it quickly became a compilation album with Neuromancer themed music that I put out on my own record label under some fucked up DJ handle like Lupus Wonderboy or some such something.
Daydreams ARE free!
Anyway I got it down to a two-disc compilation. First disc appropriately titled 'The Sprawl' would kick off with the excellent NIN instrumental 'A warm place', replete with its wasp hums and atmospheric build up and would then lead straight into 'Eraser'. The shot for the credits that opened with it (sadly cliched) are already penned in a notebook somewhere and play in my head whenever those two songs play side by side. Second disc notable tracks on the 'Freeside' (fuck I'm a geek) CD would be The Nomad's version of 'For the Love of It' which has this beautiful build-up that I always equate with Case's departure from Morocco to wake plugged into a terminal in space with hypoderm's in his arm and drum'n'bass piping LOUD through headphones, his heart only just having survived the flat line...
The other notable, is David Holmes 'Don't die just yet' which for many many many reason is SO appropriate for Armitage's death scene. The sonar ping just fits the scene so well and the atmosphere of the music is totally tragic mirroring the way that Case reacts.
And this is the mental space that I go to when I'm having fun and thinking of HOME. It is scary that stuff like this, unrealised and creative and so meaningful (to me), only ever exerts itself when I feel connected to the world and my place in it. That is exactly why I love Neuromancer. It makes me feel connected to this earth. I have no idea why. And I guess that is why I love coming back to it whenever I've done something that reassures my faith that I'm not about to fly off the face of this world, inconsequential and void.
And of course I'd be thinking NONE of these thoughts at all if it weren't for alcohol. Don't even get me started about that. I'm for another dong. Probably won't even remember any of this. That is the devil.
--
"Don't die.." is playing in the background and soaring like it was meant to in its stuttered climaxes...
21 April 2006
NZ Called
Whoopee!
NZ called, sounded fantastic, made me miss them and then told me to buck up my 'oh woe is me' ideas about life the universe and everything. So now I am charged with enthusiasm for the new job and London and everything. But then of course she spoiled it by signing off with a "come home before Feb '07" comment. Conflicting advice there Acting Manager! Sort that shit out before the worker bees mutiny.
Oh and instead of your gratitude journal, I've decided on a gratitude journ-cal, daily entries along the lines of:
Cal rocks the party, Oh she rocks the party,
Cal rocks the party, Oh she rocks the party,
etc., etc....
--
You know what?
Cal rocks the parteeeeee!
--
And special shout out the Captian Kes whose e-mail (in response to a whine) brightened my day immensely.
And to Matt (c) who doesn't read this but will be chatting with me tomorrow thanks to google!
And generally being unemployed WITH purpose. Life is all good.
--
Finally I agree that NZ is the place and I will be there soon enough. Till then I'm off to make the most of the UK and beyond.
NZ called, sounded fantastic, made me miss them and then told me to buck up my 'oh woe is me' ideas about life the universe and everything. So now I am charged with enthusiasm for the new job and London and everything. But then of course she spoiled it by signing off with a "come home before Feb '07" comment. Conflicting advice there Acting Manager! Sort that shit out before the worker bees mutiny.
Oh and instead of your gratitude journal, I've decided on a gratitude journ-cal, daily entries along the lines of:
Cal rocks the party, Oh she rocks the party,
Cal rocks the party, Oh she rocks the party,
etc., etc....
--
You know what?
Cal rocks the parteeeeee!
--
And special shout out the Captian Kes whose e-mail (in response to a whine) brightened my day immensely.
And to Matt (c) who doesn't read this but will be chatting with me tomorrow thanks to google!
And generally being unemployed WITH purpose. Life is all good.
--
Finally I agree that NZ is the place and I will be there soon enough. Till then I'm off to make the most of the UK and beyond.
20 April 2006
Pooh
...to Lost Season 2 Episode 19.
Pooh! And not a cool Pooh like a honey loving fellow neither!
Though confirmation of a Jin/Sun conflict is of interest...
--
I need to sleep but just can't quite be fucked.
--
Have been boozing. Am quite wasted. In a very lucid and awake kid of way.
--
Can't wait to hear from NZ. Come on NZ. Call! I'll be sober 10pm NZ time...
Pooh! And not a cool Pooh like a honey loving fellow neither!
Though confirmation of a Jin/Sun conflict is of interest...
--
I need to sleep but just can't quite be fucked.
--
Have been boozing. Am quite wasted. In a very lucid and awake kid of way.
--
Can't wait to hear from NZ. Come on NZ. Call! I'll be sober 10pm NZ time...
19 April 2006
Sweet nothing
Just a little note, of no importance that may or may not solicit comment.
Easter is over. I may not have walked 500 miles, but I did cover 41 over the break. I intend to write about it sometime. Not now for I have to enjoy my FREEDOM - unemployment with end in sigh (I remain that way till Monday 24th).
That is all, and till then I remain your Easter themed pimped snack.
Easter is over. I may not have walked 500 miles, but I did cover 41 over the break. I intend to write about it sometime. Not now for I have to enjoy my FREEDOM - unemployment with end in sigh (I remain that way till Monday 24th).
That is all, and till then I remain your Easter themed pimped snack.
13 April 2006
Lost
Season 2 Episode 18 is a shrimp cracker of an episode despite far too much fat-man fun and frivolity. It is all getting interesting(er) and interesting(er).
12 April 2006
Good
Today is good - I have a job. Interview yesterday, offer today. 'Tis all good.*
Guitar is good, the fingers on my left hand are supple and hitting the right strings today, and my right hand is strumming up a storm. I just blitzed "Last to know" which was the VERY first proper song I ever learned on the guitar, and an old faithful in determining if the g-tar playing day will be good.
And all you people out there, maybe even reading this, are good too.
Have a good Wednesday.
* This post reminds me of the Scribe song that goes:
"...it's all good, when you come down to my hood!"
Today's favorite chords:
Am C G D as a simple progression in both open and barr.
Cm G G# D# in barr (the chorus of a Wheezer song I vaguely remember from uni days)
Bm C G in barr, the core tune of Age Pryor's "Leave it all behind"
FIN
Guitar is good, the fingers on my left hand are supple and hitting the right strings today, and my right hand is strumming up a storm. I just blitzed "Last to know" which was the VERY first proper song I ever learned on the guitar, and an old faithful in determining if the g-tar playing day will be good.
And all you people out there, maybe even reading this, are good too.
Have a good Wednesday.
* This post reminds me of the Scribe song that goes:
"...it's all good, when you come down to my hood!"
Today's favorite chords:
Am C G D as a simple progression in both open and barr.
Cm G G# D# in barr (the chorus of a Wheezer song I vaguely remember from uni days)
Bm C G in barr, the core tune of Age Pryor's "Leave it all behind"
FIN
10 April 2006
Nothing to report
Please go about your business as usual, for there is nothing of note to report here.
03 April 2006
The Global Elite
Well, well, well. I may be an unemployable chemical technologist, but I do still have the power to mingle with the global elite(tge). This weekend I had a walk on role as a wannabe bartender at a soire hosted by none other than Sir Jeremy Greenstock, who'se tge page is here, at the amazingly old/huge/plush Ditchley Park, which he is director of.
You can read more about the house here, and look at the funny formatted map of the area that has an air of Ditchley authenticity here.
That is about all the news at the moment, 'cept for the fact that I'm half way through RTB, and the fact that both the cousin's in law from Oamaru, and in laws from Sidford, descend upon us in a day or two! It'll be family all round.
I'd best go prepare for them.
You can read more about the house here, and look at the funny formatted map of the area that has an air of Ditchley authenticity here.
That is about all the news at the moment, 'cept for the fact that I'm half way through RTB, and the fact that both the cousin's in law from Oamaru, and in laws from Sidford, descend upon us in a day or two! It'll be family all round.
I'd best go prepare for them.
01 April 2006
Reading Drafts
As mentioned in earlier posts, I'm reading a draft of a book. Thus
far it is excellent, and I've just read a bit that made me want to
post this. I'm not exactly sure why. Bear with me...
--
I started reading the draft on my computer and I got to around page 60
before realising that I just wasn't enjoying reading it on the screen.
I felt guilty that this was then stopping me from concentrating on
the story, SO I wrangled a print resource, and now am the proud owner
of a book, unusually formatted yes, but a book nonetheless.
And I am totally glad that I did. Cause there is an aesthetic with a
printed page that you just can't get on screen. I'm really enjoying
just turning each page, it gives you a sense of achievement and
anticipation with every turn. And then sometimes the words on the
page play a wicked trick on you. Like just what happened to me now:
I turned the page, immediately registered the salient narrative points
(NP), and then leisurely read through the paragraphs connecting them.
And it was great cause when I got to the end it gave a me a wicked
sense of deja vu as the last salient point clicked into place. They
were:
<page start>
lead in paragraphs...
NP: I DID
linking paragraphs...
NP: THIS
linking paragraphs...
NP: RESPONSE
</page end>
I guess what I'm trying to say is that, for me and I guess all of us
out there that were trained to read pages, the page is something that
we can and we do understand. I batch process written information:
each page is a batch.
This has made me think that computerised written information
inexpertly delivers itself in batch format. As more and more
information ends up on the web or as electronic documents, I expect
our conditioned response to page-like batch information to change. And
I further think that this is interesting because most of the ebook
readers are still trying to emulate the page, when they could probably
be more forward thinking and design for the time when the page is not
the way people are trained to receive information.
If I had to guess what I think this design concept might be I'd guess
the endless scroll, though I'm uncertain if this is a byproduct of
watching the Matrix once-too-often!
--
It is also interesting cause the page layout described above is the
result of two things:
a) the writer's attempts to lay out the story in a digestible way, and
b) the computer's attempts to logically paginate that story into an
arbitrary size
These two things, over the course of a novel sized document, and
especially in terms of a draft, are in conflict. So it is almost a
fluke that the layout that affected me existed in the first place.
Does anyone else find that kinda creepy?
--
These thoughts have been brought to you in elongated non-paginated
scrolling form courtesy of RTB.
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