March 2004 Archives

While a continuation of the TV show is unlikely, showing the WB and Fox that there is a strong demand for quality television may have some effect on future programming. And perhaps it will encourage suits to fund TV movies, DVD series or other outlets for Angelverse stories.

I have no idea what made me investigate this, but I seem to be experiencing bouts of nostalgia. Or maybe it's a 'I bet you can find this online' vibe.

My first calculator was a Commodore 776M. A gift, as always, from my grandfather. My second was the TI-25. They were compulsory and could be bought through school.

I thought my TI-25 was the coolest thing ever, even if I had very little use for it. I think the battery lasted 15 years before it started leaking. I kept it for many years after that, eventhough it was dead, just because I liked the feel of it in my hand.

• Datamath Calculator Museum
• Vintage Calculator

When Job, guitarist of 'Lawn', asks the audience to be quiet because, you know, it's a quiet song, he does so with the confidence of a seasoned performer. Not the kind of thing you expect from a support act in a tiny club. Not in front of a crowd that's already shown considerable acceptance of the band eventhough they're there to see the main act 'Sophia'. I'm impressed.

{ Lawn, Tivoli - de Helling, Utrecht }

A lot of people around us are dressed in dark red colours. We can't figure out why. Perhaps it's some thing fans of bands do, some quirk like The Mission fans who called themselves 'Eskimos' or the early online community of U2 fans who took to wearing tags with the name of their mailing list written on it.

Or it could be they're dressed in red to go along with the Fire-engine themed 'disco' that's planned after the gig.

I didn't know 'Sophia', but I knew their predecessor, noise-mongers the God Machine. They had impressed me as a young band, having made the decision to live and record in London rather than stay in their native America. I remember that the death of their bassist came unexpected and that I felt so sorry at a time that a band that had seemed so promising would meet such ill fate.

Robin Proper-Sheppard, the God Machine and Sophia's front-man, nearly gave up music after his friend died, but in the end decided he could not live without it. He looks like a young David Brent with a little Sean Penn on the side. When he's on stage pre-show to set up some girls, fans, comment "Oh there he is!", adding with a certain air of disappointment, "He's not even wearing performance clothes..."

Care to guess who this is?

I've been online 10+ years. I just registered my very first .nl domain.

Ooooh, scary...

I had never read any Ferlinghetti before, but I think I like him.

The Dutch Queen Mother, Her Royal Highness Princess Juliana passed away early on Saturday, 20 March 2004. She died in her sleep at ten to six in the morning.

Despite her abdication in 1980, despite not being much of a Royalist myself, I always thought of her as our real queen. She brought our Royals closer to the people, seemed headstrong yet kind and always slightly mad, like a proper monarch.

Like a lot of women, I have a thing for shoes. But strange as it may sound, I think I inherited this particular obsession from my father.

Growing up in WWII he did not have any shoes, so he developed a fetish in later life. My parents would, and I believe they still do, fly down to Lisbon for the weekend to buy shoes. Shoes are cheaper in Portugal.

Ever few weeks my father, a rather conservative man with 15+ pair of shoes -- can you imagine? -- will line up his collection and he will clean and polish them all. I never did pick up that part of his habit.

There are 30+ pairs of shoes in my closet right now. A few years ago, I threw out a lot of older ones, but kept enough so as not to make me nervous. I've stopped buying new pairs regularly, mainly because most of my money goes on computer stuff and music. But lately I've felt the old itch coming back.

It's taken me a while, but I've finally sussed that I've no need for music 24/7 and definitely not in my ear when I'm on the go. I got this lovely little iRiver 128mb (MP3, WMA player with FM radio) iFP-180T last year to aid me in writing my book. I used it to listen to U2 concerts while commuting - a great way to save time when it was in need of some. But I haven't used it since I finished the book. Like my iBook, this thing should be in the hands of someone who appreciates it.

(Specs.) (Price.) Yours for 75 Euro. Or make me an offer.

"Why are bloggers mostly straight white men?" Danah asked back in January -- I missed it then so I'm only answering now.

My gut reaction (not necessarily my most thought through or politically correct response) when I saw that question just now: "Because they never marry the women they can talk to, but the ones they want to shag."

Which says nothing about the 'white' factor. I did mention it wasn't my most thought through response.

George Michael's Older (1996) is in my Top 10 favourite albums. So there. Now that that's out of the way let's tackle the long-awaited new album.

'Precious' won't make my top 10 because it's not really an album. It's a collection of songs that goes on a little too long, has two old singles on it and sounds just a tad dated. So it's good old fashioned George Michael schtuff then? Yes. 'Amazing', the single, has grown on me, 'My Mother Has A Brother' is the touching stand out ballad, but it's the 7 minutes and 36 seconds long dance floor dark horse 'Precious Box' that I've been playing on repeat. This despite the fact that it sounds like a theme tune for a mid-90s TV show about the hard-core dance scene in, I don't know, Sheffield. Yes, it's got under my skin, as George himself sings in this tribute to... what? Satellite TV? You tell me (lyrics). At the end of the album, George bids the business that comes with music farewell. Here's to many many future downloads. He may be 'Through', but he's not finished.

Unbelievably, my sorry, lethargic mood was lifted by being in the company of friends and their three kids today. (I do believe hell just froze over.) We picked up the 6-year-old from school -- there I was, mingling with the mumsy crowd, because she'd specifically requested I come get her. The 3-year-old, who had on a previous occasion told me I wasn't welcome, now agreed to have me stay for dinner as long as I didn't sit in her daddy's chair. The 7-year-old plonked his feet in my lap. He nearly tipped over my scalding hot tea, but sweetly apologised and later ran a quiz during dinner: "Who fights windmills?", "What's the planet closest to the sun", "Who do I like to tease?". I had fun, despite being kept away from my new toy.

First impression of said new toy: The cradle... um, rocks. Wish the PDA itself was made of the same dark blue see through material. The GUI is intuitive -- I haven't resorted to the manual yet. I haven't yet worked out the handwriting recognition, but the keyboard thingy works fine. Got a bluetooth / dial-in connection up within 5 minutes.

Things I've done over the last couple of days.

Clicking around on the Japan Today website, I got this error. Should I ring the authorities?

I got my first camera, an Afgamatic 2000, when I was 10, in 1973.

I still remember how the feel of it in my hand and how it felt to press the release. It came with a slinky chain, which you could get your skin caught up in, and an odd little foot to stick flash bulbs on.

It was a present from my grandfather. He gave it to my mother, but I think he secretly wanted me to have it. He probably couldn't justify buying me something that expensive. In any case, I used it a lot and nobody told me I couldn't. There was a lot of picture taking in our family anyway. I used it till it broke, sometime in the mid 80s and kept it for a long time after that. I just couldn't part with it and hoped it would mend all by itself.

When I was a little older I bought a Practica B 200, the only camera I could afford at the time. It came with a 50mm and a 150mm tele. It didn't last very long, the electronics in it broke and it started draining batteries. But I used it to take pictures at school, mostly of teachers, for an entirely illegal magazine we ran called Plons ('Splash'). It was a gossip rag with completely fabricated stories. We photocopied it on the school's only xerox, in the principle's office. I also used it to take pictures of sports events at school. Unfortunately, I didn't take a lot of pictures of my friends with it.

Then came my Olympus OM 10, bought second hand some time around 1985. I had several lenses with this one, an 80-200 zoom, a wide-angle, a 50mm, a 70-150mm. All my early concert photography was done with this one and I used it to take portraits of my classmates in college.

I had a number of 35mm point-and-shoots next to the OM 10, a wonderful Samsung which broke way too soon. I then upgraded to their newer model - it wasn't half as good as the old one. I also picked up a second hand Sigma, my first auto-focus SLR, but it never worked properly and drained batteries. I have a lot of problems with electronic equipment in general -- sometimes I blame it on my being very static.

A few years back I got the Canon EOS 300 and it made me wish I had invested in a proper SLR sooner. Despite the fact that I've been taking photographs since I was 10, I've never been very good at it. The Canon made me take better pictures, I learned to play with depth of field, the images were sharper... I read up a bit on photography too, that helped.

Then came the digital cameras - my first one bought on a whim during lunch break when I was very bored and dissatisfied at work: an Olympus C2000. Fabulous camera, I wish there was some way to upgrade it from its 2.1 megapixels. I still have it, cannot get myself to sell it. The Canon Ixus (bought from some extra money I got around my 40th) I use now is lovely because it feels nice and is so easy to carry, but it's a bit limited compared to the C2000.

I've been bothering people with my lense for thirty years. Why? Because it gives me something to do while everybody else shows off their social skills.

My iBook has left the building. I'm happy to say it's found a home with a true aficionado and a very nice bloke too. I am going to miss the little bugger, the iBook SE (graphite) was very sexy indeed.

Sorry to the many folks who contacted me since I put the ad up -- I'm amazed at the interest in this 3,5 year old machine -- but I chose the 'first come, first serve' method, rather than the highest bidder. Because money, as we all know, is unclean and not something we wish to discuss for too long.

Now for my next sale: my Wacom Volito.

When my Wacom Graphire II 'broke' a few months ago (it was the pen that stopped working properly) I foolishly bought a new tablet rather than replace the pen. Wacom's Volito is their bottom end solution and it shows. It lacks precision, 'feels' heavy in use. It's not meant for daily usage. After a few months I gave in and ordered a new pen for the Graphire. It arrived yesterday. So now I'm stuck with a spare tablet.

The Volito is good for trying out the idea of a tablet and for people who just want to use it once every while, to draw. It's not good enough to replace a mouse.

If anyone's interested in it drop me a line before I put it up for sale elsewhere.

A recent media enquiry has made me wonder why there are no European equivalents of Television Without Pity. None that I know of anyway.

TWOP is a dedicated TV recap and discussion site, with a high level of snark. The episode recaps are as bitchy as they are informed and insightful. The discussion is intense and immediate. People rush to the boards straight after an episode has aired.

It really is a place for devout fans of TV shows only. In my experience, only the biggest fans can be as tough on the thing they love as people are at TWOP. It's not for the casual viewer.

I find TWOP almost unamerican in its unabashed critcism and sarcasm. I love it most of the time. That's why I wonder why there are no European equivalents, haven't we always done sarcasm better? Americans in general don't seem prone to such bite, bitterness and bile and are better known for their unfailing enthusiasm.

Am I missing something?

We weren't the only ones in the country who'd decided to go see the Alphonse Mucha exhibition at the Kunsthal in Rotterdam. It is a venue entirely unsuitable to large capacity crowds. This made our experience of the work of Mucha less enjoyable than it might have been had we had more space to move in.

I think I want a PDA (Instead of the damn iBook I can't seem to get rid off. Anyone interested in a SE 'shell' type ibook? No, I didn't think so either.) I don't need one, but having a phone that is a modem, has bluetooth and infrared just begs for a gadget to go with for that lovely internet everywhere sensation.

I know nothing about these things and the fact is I'm not going to be using it much for anything else but the calender and online stuff.

I found this handy page that explains most of what I wanted to know, but I am open to your suggestions.

Here are my criteria:

(I accidently posted this instead of keeping it a draft -- but the title should say enough about what I thought of this film which won a crazy amount of awards at every festival on the planet... perhaps it's the New Zealand effect? )

This Amazon Listmania list called Books You've Got to Read Standing Up makes me feel a whole lot better about my strange infliction:

I prefer to do my reading either standing up, or lying down. Except on public transport, where I can read in any kind of position.

Reading while standing up includes walking, which can be dangerous. It's something I picked up from my father, who read while walking the dog. And that one time he came to one of my tennis matches and he having no interest in sports.

I suppose the crux of the matter is that I have forgotten how to sit down and relax at home and stay seated long enough to read. Not with the ever-looming presence of the computer in my front room.

As I glance around me on public transport, I am the only person who is reading while fully upright. (In fact I am the only person reading a book at all. Papers, magazines, yes. But no books. It's a wonder authors make a living at all.)

Do you, or do you know anyone who reads vertically?

Wired magazine interviews Neil Young, internet entrepeneur:

Greendale is Young's latest album, DVD, livetour, opera, website, movie...

He wants to run the next Greendale tour on biodiesel...

I hope Mr Diva wasn't too troubled this morning as a result of our spicy meal at Tempo Doeloe ("one of the two best Indonesian restaurants in Europe" -- says who?) here in Amsterdam last night.

I was particularly pleased with the service - outstanding for Amsterdam standards. Flawlessly addressing the Diva in English, myself in Dutch. Some of the dishes were unbelievably hot - my tummy's a little sorry for that. Quite taken with their ... was it beef, was it pork? With aniseed, anyway.

Sorry, no photographic evidence. We were simply too busy talking.

What was the person who invented the so-called 'brainstorm' thinking?

These sessions are supposed to free the mind, but the whirlwind thoughts of others spoken out loud just cloud my vision.

All alone, in the quiet, that's where my ideas find fruit. Solitude breeds clarity.

I'll only fit into my own space.

Joseph O'Connor is Sinead's brother. Let's get that out of the way. I'd previously read two of his books. Cowboys and Indians, I think, and possibly The Secret World of the Irish Male, both of which I cannot recall a single word from. Now I'm fifty pages into his latest, Star of the Sea (USA) and I know it's likely I'll read this one again.

The book feels like a classic, made up of bits of ship log, recollections, poetry, letters to and from emigrants, newspaper columns and illustrated with etchings.

It's the story of the passengers on a ship, the Star of the Sea, that sails from Ireland to New York in the winter of 1847. On board are refugees from the potato famine, an Anglo-irish Lord and his family, a budding novelist, a maharaja and a murderer. Even before the ship sets sail, one or two unfortunate passengers die of hunger, others succumb to disease on board, all carefully noted in the ship's log by her captain.

While set in the past, you feel a more recent history inevitably foreshadowed in the thoughts and actions of the men and women aboard the ship.

The language is rich and Irish as are the characters, and O'Connor knows all their voices. I can't wait to see what happens to these people.

Staying up all night to watch the Academy Awards to post the results to the job website before any other site in the world (I checked all the big ones, seriously, we had it first.) isn't worth the incredible hungover feeling that dominated the day after.

Somewhere I lost time. In bed 6am. Woke up 3pm, struggled for 4 hours, went back to bed and didn't wake until 7.30am the next day with a mild migraine and the lingering memories of a nasty nightmare.

In which several ex-friends and parents outdid each other trying to humiliate me. Thankfully, I don't remember quite enough of the dream to know which sore point exactly they were putting pressure on. But the one friend wouldn't look at me and said I talked too much. And the other parent laid bare my non-existent love life.

It felt bad. Probably not as bad as Bill Murray (wearing Helmut Lang) must have felt -- having sat through 10 times of '... and the Oscar goes to... Return of the King' (NOT the best film in the trilogy by miles) only to see his one chance of holding the golden statue pass on to that little upstart Sean Penn. And to have Billy Crystal rub it in in front of millions: "But we still love you, Bill."

Unadventurous fashion, dull speeches. A very ugly mix of nervousness and greed.

And Renee bloody boring Zellweger.