Facebook's recent evolution mirrors the evolution of lots of other software, including websites: here's what happens
- someone gets a great idea that makes something easier and/or generic, which was otherwise difficult and/or specific
- it becomes a success because it does exactly what it says on the tin and the users build a consistent mental model of how it works. the people who developed the idea do a good job because they're the ones who use it, so they know what works
- the marketeers see an opportunity: but because they have a mindset that sees money and markets, they add features and increase complexity to the point where the mental model is becomes inconsistent and opaque to the end user, mainly because it's not the end user's needs that are being met, but the needs of ambitious people in the business
- people start complaining and looking for alternatives
- then someone gets a great idea that does just what it says on the tin and provides a consistent, non-annoying experience. the first company then collapses
they're also going against one of the most basic rules of the web: it's a road, not a train on rails. the user is in the driving seat and they can choose to follow any path they like. Facebook is in some ways attempting to put the user on rails, with more limited and pre-defined options, rather than simply a set of signposts they can follow if they wish. that's a big failure and many, many other sites have suffered, because the basic rule of the web is one of active user choice. i reckon that in a boxing match, Marshall McLuhan would trounce Zuckerberg every time :)
i don't care whether facebook survives or not: but it does surprise me that they haven't learned from the mistakes people have made in the past. however, i can tell from Google's evolution that they have learned this lesson: that's exactly how they took a massive market share from Altavista in the late 90s.
btw: does anyone remember Altavista? it was once the search engine everyone used :)
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
The Hunter - a story
"I think there's one just down the road, dear." I'm sure she used that sardonic tone to irritate me. It's a matter of seconds if you want to get a good score and she knows how seriously i take it. If she could get her eyes off that handheld, with its incessant stream of inane gossip...ah fuck it. Thats' where she got the tip, no doubt. I rushed out onto the balcony.
There he was: two blocks down, in the Harper building, looking out from the open platform on the 23rd floor. I could see him without binoculars or the scope on the P22. Jumping platforms aren't strictly legal, by the way, but the landlords always found a way around that by putting a few bins there and making up something about them needing to be open because of the smell. This was going to be a tough shot: the sun reflects off those windows at this time of day. I'm a serious player so I don't use that auto-filtering crap and a self-aimer like a lightweight. It's a matter of honour and nobody in the main Ladder (yours truly is now in 79th place and rising) would be caught using one. Good points to be had here.
I shouldered the P22 and took a closer look. Male, underweight (I'd say a BMI of about 32) and ready to go, by the looks of things. He'd got the usual twitches and tics and he must have hit hard times because there's no shortage of Averin and it was only about 30 creds for a week's supply, unless you'd been mixing it with Zero-Cola. They say the high's good, but what goes up, must come down, and when your intake rises tenfold every two weeks, I reckon it would bankrupt most ordinary people within a year. So you stop...and when you do, most people end up jumping. There are other ways, of course, but at least this way, you go out quickly and your loved ones get some creds. We always have a whip-round and while it's not compulsory to contribute, nobody who wants to be taken seriously on the Ladder would dream of not helping out. It helps the sport, after all.
The polariser on the scope kicked in and cut out the reflections. Here he goes...to the edge: I took up first pressure. I'll take him when he's level: i reckon about 20 feet of lead. Too high and he's too easy a target, too low and someone else will get him. Some people buy their way to a good score by renting apartments on the lower levels, which means plenty of time, but there's no artistry in that. Anyone with the money can get a south-side low-level in the Valleys - Christ knows there are enough empty offices, after the computers took over the trading floor. Money and the right connections can get you a weapon with all sorts of fancy automatic shit but there's no art in that. Manual is where's it's at: anything more than an aimer and you won't get any kind of rank, but it's mostly about self-respect. That's why it's important to get a flat shot rather than a high or low one: it's about the angles. While the jumper's high up, they're a small target, for sure, but they're not crossing your field of vision very fast and you've got plenty of time. Likewise with the low ones, except for the time - and anyway, someone further up will get them first, if they're any good. A flat shot gets you a better score (and more respect) than anything else: they're moving fast past you and even the best aimbot would be no use because you can't keep up. That's where the real skill lies. You've got to shoot on instinct.
Of course you could always use a smart round - well, we all do, but not that kind. The kind of smart flechette the military uses that can go round six corners, through a concrete wall, and into a target's neck without even spraying blood on their pillow would do the job, for sure. Anyone could do that. The only approved round is a Hawking round and that's that. Anything else and we'd be either half-arsed or shut down right away. All it does is disintegrate within a metre of anything that isn't made of flesh and moving fast. They say it was that wheelchair guy who figured out the principle - I'm damned if I know how they work - but we couldn't do this if they didn't do that. There'd be no windows in the Manhattan Valley blocks and the sport would not exist. We're on the edge of illegal as it is but nobody has ever been successfully prosecuted for shooting someone who'd just jumped to their death. Even so, if it weren't for a bit of pressure from the landlords, who live quite nicely on the rents they can get downtown for defunct office buildings, we'd be fucked and there'd be no ladder. I'd have to go back to hunting deer a couple of times a year, and to be honest, i never liked the exercise and the cold.
He was moving to the edge: it couldn't be long now. I could see the usual blank stare they get when the Averin wears off but God only knows what's going on in his head. The arms and shoulders were twitching and I could see him sway back and forth as I held first pressure. There's no laser on this sight but it's 220 yards to that platform. I knew the settings by heart for all seven I could see from my balcony. Zoom out with a frame-in-frame. I don't know if my heart can take this kind of excitement much longer...
Small frame: there he goes! He was a falling silhouette against the mirror glass and there were a couple of cracks followed by self-destructed puffs of dust as a couple of noobs had a go and missed. It was too early for my main rival Bucky: this guy was mine, for sure. I let one go - only one - as he passed the eleventh and i saw him spin with the impact. The spin continued for a few milliseconds and then he was free game for the rest: they'd waited too long, as usual. Fucking losers...anyway, before he hit the ground, there wasn't much left. They wouldn't get the score. I was already uploading the vid to the Ladder and this one was mine. Bucky wasn't there, but this was a classic, so even if I don't advance, I'll get the kudos. The angle of the sun made for a really good sequence and it'll confirmed as a matter of course. One of those dumb fucks on the forum will start bleating about saying prayers for his immortal soul, but we have to tolerate the fuckers because they help keep our guns legal. I just wish they'd shut up.
She was still sitting reading that celebrity crap while she chatted on Twype. At least she had the good sense to let me know one was ready but then again the widget i'd put on her handheld would snitch if she'd known and hadn't said.
Oh well...back to work. I switched the machines off auto and there'd been no alerts, probably because Indonesia was still fast asleep. Working from home is one of the perks of being a drone pilot.
==========
The Hunter is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
There he was: two blocks down, in the Harper building, looking out from the open platform on the 23rd floor. I could see him without binoculars or the scope on the P22. Jumping platforms aren't strictly legal, by the way, but the landlords always found a way around that by putting a few bins there and making up something about them needing to be open because of the smell. This was going to be a tough shot: the sun reflects off those windows at this time of day. I'm a serious player so I don't use that auto-filtering crap and a self-aimer like a lightweight. It's a matter of honour and nobody in the main Ladder (yours truly is now in 79th place and rising) would be caught using one. Good points to be had here.
I shouldered the P22 and took a closer look. Male, underweight (I'd say a BMI of about 32) and ready to go, by the looks of things. He'd got the usual twitches and tics and he must have hit hard times because there's no shortage of Averin and it was only about 30 creds for a week's supply, unless you'd been mixing it with Zero-Cola. They say the high's good, but what goes up, must come down, and when your intake rises tenfold every two weeks, I reckon it would bankrupt most ordinary people within a year. So you stop...and when you do, most people end up jumping. There are other ways, of course, but at least this way, you go out quickly and your loved ones get some creds. We always have a whip-round and while it's not compulsory to contribute, nobody who wants to be taken seriously on the Ladder would dream of not helping out. It helps the sport, after all.
The polariser on the scope kicked in and cut out the reflections. Here he goes...to the edge: I took up first pressure. I'll take him when he's level: i reckon about 20 feet of lead. Too high and he's too easy a target, too low and someone else will get him. Some people buy their way to a good score by renting apartments on the lower levels, which means plenty of time, but there's no artistry in that. Anyone with the money can get a south-side low-level in the Valleys - Christ knows there are enough empty offices, after the computers took over the trading floor. Money and the right connections can get you a weapon with all sorts of fancy automatic shit but there's no art in that. Manual is where's it's at: anything more than an aimer and you won't get any kind of rank, but it's mostly about self-respect. That's why it's important to get a flat shot rather than a high or low one: it's about the angles. While the jumper's high up, they're a small target, for sure, but they're not crossing your field of vision very fast and you've got plenty of time. Likewise with the low ones, except for the time - and anyway, someone further up will get them first, if they're any good. A flat shot gets you a better score (and more respect) than anything else: they're moving fast past you and even the best aimbot would be no use because you can't keep up. That's where the real skill lies. You've got to shoot on instinct.
Of course you could always use a smart round - well, we all do, but not that kind. The kind of smart flechette the military uses that can go round six corners, through a concrete wall, and into a target's neck without even spraying blood on their pillow would do the job, for sure. Anyone could do that. The only approved round is a Hawking round and that's that. Anything else and we'd be either half-arsed or shut down right away. All it does is disintegrate within a metre of anything that isn't made of flesh and moving fast. They say it was that wheelchair guy who figured out the principle - I'm damned if I know how they work - but we couldn't do this if they didn't do that. There'd be no windows in the Manhattan Valley blocks and the sport would not exist. We're on the edge of illegal as it is but nobody has ever been successfully prosecuted for shooting someone who'd just jumped to their death. Even so, if it weren't for a bit of pressure from the landlords, who live quite nicely on the rents they can get downtown for defunct office buildings, we'd be fucked and there'd be no ladder. I'd have to go back to hunting deer a couple of times a year, and to be honest, i never liked the exercise and the cold.
He was moving to the edge: it couldn't be long now. I could see the usual blank stare they get when the Averin wears off but God only knows what's going on in his head. The arms and shoulders were twitching and I could see him sway back and forth as I held first pressure. There's no laser on this sight but it's 220 yards to that platform. I knew the settings by heart for all seven I could see from my balcony. Zoom out with a frame-in-frame. I don't know if my heart can take this kind of excitement much longer...
Small frame: there he goes! He was a falling silhouette against the mirror glass and there were a couple of cracks followed by self-destructed puffs of dust as a couple of noobs had a go and missed. It was too early for my main rival Bucky: this guy was mine, for sure. I let one go - only one - as he passed the eleventh and i saw him spin with the impact. The spin continued for a few milliseconds and then he was free game for the rest: they'd waited too long, as usual. Fucking losers...anyway, before he hit the ground, there wasn't much left. They wouldn't get the score. I was already uploading the vid to the Ladder and this one was mine. Bucky wasn't there, but this was a classic, so even if I don't advance, I'll get the kudos. The angle of the sun made for a really good sequence and it'll confirmed as a matter of course. One of those dumb fucks on the forum will start bleating about saying prayers for his immortal soul, but we have to tolerate the fuckers because they help keep our guns legal. I just wish they'd shut up.
She was still sitting reading that celebrity crap while she chatted on Twype. At least she had the good sense to let me know one was ready but then again the widget i'd put on her handheld would snitch if she'd known and hadn't said.
Oh well...back to work. I switched the machines off auto and there'd been no alerts, probably because Indonesia was still fast asleep. Working from home is one of the perks of being a drone pilot.
==========
The Hunter is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
Sunday, 19 June 2011
why i don't like this ad
i recently had an altercation on a social networking website - you can guess which one - about this advertisement:
some people assumed that i was offended by it, but in fact i was more disturbed than offended: disturbed by the way otherwise intelligent people could be manipulated, as that's what advertising is - often very clever manipulation
it seems to appeal to women in the same way Nuts magazine and the like appeal to some men: and it seems to me that women who fall for the appeal of the man in it are basically the same type who whoop and slaver in the front row of a Chippendales performance. what surprises me is that the woman i fell out with would be one of the first to condemn mags like Nuts and Loaded but is somehow unaware of how she's fallen for the same 'sex sells' trick, just with her as the target audience. she'd posted it on her wall and when i challenged her about the sexist attitude within it - sexism in women towards men - she defended it on the grounds that it was a parody of sorts. that's one reason why it's so clever and effective: it packages a poison pill of attitudes to sexuality and body image in a pretty sugar coating
and then there's the use of images, which are cleverly juxtaposed with the text in order to sweeten the pill. it's a fact that images are much more effective than speech or text when it comes to getting a message across: a picture tells a thousand words, as the saying goes, and those words can be deceiptful and manipulative in just as high a degree as a cleverly constructed text. the difference in this case is that while text and speech can be reflected upon and dissected easily by most, a video image is delivered within a timeline which enables some clever manipulation via juxtaposition and less obvious signals. in this case, a body ideal is sneaked in beneath the critical faculties by the use of some very clever video effects which, on their own, would be very appealing, if it not for the fact that the point of this whole thing is to sell Old Spice (which i happen to like very much, by the way...and always have, ever since i used to nick a splash of my dad's when i was young).
the attitude within it, designed to get under the radar of otherwise sensible people's critical faculties, is pretty much overtly stated in the first part: be dissatisfied with yourself and/or your husband. the irony of the narrative and imagery mask this by making it look as if it's not projecting a certain kind of image. it's very clever. the marketing and advertising companies don't employ psychologists at high rates of pay for nothing!
am i the only person around here who can see the problem? we've got generations of women who know and understand how damaging the projection of similar female images can be to especially girls and young women. am i the only one who can see that the marketing of cosmetics and suchlike to men is taking a similar path? as the Story of Stuff creator Annie Leonard puts it so well: "Advertising basically says 'You Suck'" and how better to create that deep dissatisfaction with one's own body image than to bombard people with sexually appealing images of something unattainable? i'm 52 and grew up in a world where marketing wasn't anywhere as clever as it is today. these days, many people actually find ads entertaining (and it's no surprise, as there's often more money spent on the 30 second ad than on an hour's TV). maybe one day, they'll get people to enjoy the taste of arsenic on their cornflakes?
eating disorders are on the increase amongst men and boys. anyone who has had eating disorders at close hand knows what suffering and pain they cause and my heart goes out to anyone who suffers from one, either themselves or in their loved ones. i'm not saying that this kind of imagery is the sole or even the prime cause of such problems, but it's part of the picture and the problem too. dissatisfaction with one's own body is probably the most common factor in eating disorders
the woman who posted this on her wall wouldn't approve of something which used similar female imagery, even if it's wrapped in something which is supposedly humorous. she seems to have fallen for it anyway. i find that as depressing as when i hear of young women getting into porn and lapdancing believing that it' an expression of their own empowerment. commodification of sex, which surely is one of the greatest and most beautiful expressions of love and tenderness (and which can also be a great healer) disturbs me deeply: and that, to me, is what this is about too. i find this unhealthy on so many levels
i know that this is only a simple and hurried look at something which is more complex: hopefully we can continue the discussion and i can become wiser along the way
btw: i'm far from being prude, as anyone who knows me well will tell you. i feel that sex is most at home within a sphere of intimacy...
some people assumed that i was offended by it, but in fact i was more disturbed than offended: disturbed by the way otherwise intelligent people could be manipulated, as that's what advertising is - often very clever manipulation
it seems to appeal to women in the same way Nuts magazine and the like appeal to some men: and it seems to me that women who fall for the appeal of the man in it are basically the same type who whoop and slaver in the front row of a Chippendales performance. what surprises me is that the woman i fell out with would be one of the first to condemn mags like Nuts and Loaded but is somehow unaware of how she's fallen for the same 'sex sells' trick, just with her as the target audience. she'd posted it on her wall and when i challenged her about the sexist attitude within it - sexism in women towards men - she defended it on the grounds that it was a parody of sorts. that's one reason why it's so clever and effective: it packages a poison pill of attitudes to sexuality and body image in a pretty sugar coating
and then there's the use of images, which are cleverly juxtaposed with the text in order to sweeten the pill. it's a fact that images are much more effective than speech or text when it comes to getting a message across: a picture tells a thousand words, as the saying goes, and those words can be deceiptful and manipulative in just as high a degree as a cleverly constructed text. the difference in this case is that while text and speech can be reflected upon and dissected easily by most, a video image is delivered within a timeline which enables some clever manipulation via juxtaposition and less obvious signals. in this case, a body ideal is sneaked in beneath the critical faculties by the use of some very clever video effects which, on their own, would be very appealing, if it not for the fact that the point of this whole thing is to sell Old Spice (which i happen to like very much, by the way...and always have, ever since i used to nick a splash of my dad's when i was young).
the attitude within it, designed to get under the radar of otherwise sensible people's critical faculties, is pretty much overtly stated in the first part: be dissatisfied with yourself and/or your husband. the irony of the narrative and imagery mask this by making it look as if it's not projecting a certain kind of image. it's very clever. the marketing and advertising companies don't employ psychologists at high rates of pay for nothing!
am i the only person around here who can see the problem? we've got generations of women who know and understand how damaging the projection of similar female images can be to especially girls and young women. am i the only one who can see that the marketing of cosmetics and suchlike to men is taking a similar path? as the Story of Stuff creator Annie Leonard puts it so well: "Advertising basically says 'You Suck'" and how better to create that deep dissatisfaction with one's own body image than to bombard people with sexually appealing images of something unattainable? i'm 52 and grew up in a world where marketing wasn't anywhere as clever as it is today. these days, many people actually find ads entertaining (and it's no surprise, as there's often more money spent on the 30 second ad than on an hour's TV). maybe one day, they'll get people to enjoy the taste of arsenic on their cornflakes?
eating disorders are on the increase amongst men and boys. anyone who has had eating disorders at close hand knows what suffering and pain they cause and my heart goes out to anyone who suffers from one, either themselves or in their loved ones. i'm not saying that this kind of imagery is the sole or even the prime cause of such problems, but it's part of the picture and the problem too. dissatisfaction with one's own body is probably the most common factor in eating disorders
the woman who posted this on her wall wouldn't approve of something which used similar female imagery, even if it's wrapped in something which is supposedly humorous. she seems to have fallen for it anyway. i find that as depressing as when i hear of young women getting into porn and lapdancing believing that it' an expression of their own empowerment. commodification of sex, which surely is one of the greatest and most beautiful expressions of love and tenderness (and which can also be a great healer) disturbs me deeply: and that, to me, is what this is about too. i find this unhealthy on so many levels
i know that this is only a simple and hurried look at something which is more complex: hopefully we can continue the discussion and i can become wiser along the way
btw: i'm far from being prude, as anyone who knows me well will tell you. i feel that sex is most at home within a sphere of intimacy...
Thursday, 6 January 2011
random ramblings...
if this is rambling, i need some new boots
======
Fret Level 5
i'm burning all my credit cards to stay awake
the broadband has gone mouldy
a whole pack of sanity towels is blocking the road
but there's drugs to lock us up
and prisons to keep us sane
hooray
i've bought lots of nothing at a very good price
people who value nothing will buy it
i'll borrow some more from the bank
of the last river on earth
where i'll phish your identity
take that
next week there will be timebombs
and incendiary pauses
and all the words you can ever eat
so let's imprison some tourerists
in a maze of twisted logic
last orders please
i'm waiting for last year's great sensation
to arrive on the back of a cataclysm
i apologise for not being afraid
tesco value and the x-factor should fix it
and a raised fret level too
bye bye
======
Fret Level 5
i'm burning all my credit cards to stay awake
the broadband has gone mouldy
a whole pack of sanity towels is blocking the road
but there's drugs to lock us up
and prisons to keep us sane
hooray
i've bought lots of nothing at a very good price
people who value nothing will buy it
i'll borrow some more from the bank
of the last river on earth
where i'll phish your identity
take that
next week there will be timebombs
and incendiary pauses
and all the words you can ever eat
so let's imprison some tourerists
in a maze of twisted logic
last orders please
i'm waiting for last year's great sensation
to arrive on the back of a cataclysm
i apologise for not being afraid
tesco value and the x-factor should fix it
and a raised fret level too
bye bye
Monday, 3 January 2011
and some more...
...poetry. it just keeps coming out. don't ask me how, i don't know
============
shellfishness
and there i was, openhearted but wound-up and bewildered
when it came, that...that scalding emotional lavaflow
vomited from some dark, blinding place bleached black
it's there but you give it no name
your something-something
you shocked me
i'm a bit of a first-timer
every single time
i don't know what to do
there's hurt in all directions
and something in me closed up hard and brittle
and i don't know what to do
we're so shellfish
we drift at the mercy of the sea
until we find a rock to cling to
a place to let life flow through us
to stop wanting and start having
whatever life the tide brings
we keep ourselves in a hard shell
until its safe to open up
that sounds all wrong
i really should say
i'm so shellfish
i drifted at the mercy of the sea
and now i've found a rock to cling to
a place to let life flow through me
to stop wanting and start having
whatever life the tide brings
i kept myself in a hard shell
until it was safe to open up
i'm such a coward
with these things
but i'm trying
we need clean water to thrive
if it's gritty we get all clogged up
and stop growing
it takes a lot of effort to clean all that crap out
and you feel really dirty inside
but there is a bright side
it does produce the odd pearl
and my shell's shut tight
and i still don't know what to do
and i'm sorry i'm so busy
i'm in a good place
and it feels really sad but
i'm not where you are
and i don't really know where i'm going
and our paths might not cross
but i have to go there
and if i didn't, i wouldn't be me any more
and you don't want that
so i have to go
and i'm so sorry
my love
============
shellfishness
and there i was, openhearted but wound-up and bewildered
when it came, that...that scalding emotional lavaflow
vomited from some dark, blinding place bleached black
it's there but you give it no name
your something-something
you shocked me
i'm a bit of a first-timer
every single time
i don't know what to do
there's hurt in all directions
and something in me closed up hard and brittle
and i don't know what to do
we're so shellfish
we drift at the mercy of the sea
until we find a rock to cling to
a place to let life flow through us
to stop wanting and start having
whatever life the tide brings
we keep ourselves in a hard shell
until its safe to open up
that sounds all wrong
i really should say
i'm so shellfish
i drifted at the mercy of the sea
and now i've found a rock to cling to
a place to let life flow through me
to stop wanting and start having
whatever life the tide brings
i kept myself in a hard shell
until it was safe to open up
i'm such a coward
with these things
but i'm trying
we need clean water to thrive
if it's gritty we get all clogged up
and stop growing
it takes a lot of effort to clean all that crap out
and you feel really dirty inside
but there is a bright side
it does produce the odd pearl
and my shell's shut tight
and i still don't know what to do
and i'm sorry i'm so busy
i'm in a good place
and it feels really sad but
i'm not where you are
and i don't really know where i'm going
and our paths might not cross
but i have to go there
and if i didn't, i wouldn't be me any more
and you don't want that
so i have to go
and i'm so sorry
my love
Saturday, 1 January 2011
this just in...
...from somewhere. i wrote it in about half an hour and i have no idea where it came from
===========
Sharing The Fire
the fire and love
bring us together and keep us warm
let's come closer and see the firelight
in each other's eyes and dazzle our hearts
that would be great
but it's not always like that
the spark of love needs dry, well-chosen tinder
must be sheltered from the wind, the rain and the cold earth
kindling must lie waiting and the heart must glow bright
as the breath feeds it
don't light your fire on a rocky spot
the rocks will crack angrily and hot splinters burn
cold wet spots bore it to death with a bottomless chill
a kindly place where the soul and nature rests is best
feed your fire with good timber
too green, and it gives no heat
too weathered and the flames die fast
learn to recognise the good stuff
don't worry about the hard work
cutting and gathering
listening and giving
in time, you will grow stronger
and it will warm you just as well
others will come to share your beautiful fire
let them tend it too
there are many ways to tend it
and you'll never know them all
share it well
you get warmer, not colder, when it's shared with a friend
a stranger knows it as the greatest gift of all
and will bring you blessings
there may be times when fuel is hard to find
or your fire dies from lack of attention
don't worry
you'll know better what to expect
don't rush
dark embers can burn and reawake
if the hearth is still warm
and they like to do it
when you're looking the other way
life is for living, don't dwell
do what you love
fire and love are very alike
they need the same things and live well together
but they're not the same, oh no
fire is a good servant, but a bad master
with love, it's the other way around
===========
Sharing The Fire
the fire and love
bring us together and keep us warm
let's come closer and see the firelight
in each other's eyes and dazzle our hearts
that would be great
but it's not always like that
the spark of love needs dry, well-chosen tinder
must be sheltered from the wind, the rain and the cold earth
kindling must lie waiting and the heart must glow bright
as the breath feeds it
don't light your fire on a rocky spot
the rocks will crack angrily and hot splinters burn
cold wet spots bore it to death with a bottomless chill
a kindly place where the soul and nature rests is best
feed your fire with good timber
too green, and it gives no heat
too weathered and the flames die fast
learn to recognise the good stuff
don't worry about the hard work
cutting and gathering
listening and giving
in time, you will grow stronger
and it will warm you just as well
others will come to share your beautiful fire
let them tend it too
there are many ways to tend it
and you'll never know them all
share it well
you get warmer, not colder, when it's shared with a friend
a stranger knows it as the greatest gift of all
and will bring you blessings
there may be times when fuel is hard to find
or your fire dies from lack of attention
don't worry
you'll know better what to expect
don't rush
dark embers can burn and reawake
if the hearth is still warm
and they like to do it
when you're looking the other way
life is for living, don't dwell
do what you love
fire and love are very alike
they need the same things and live well together
but they're not the same, oh no
fire is a good servant, but a bad master
with love, it's the other way around
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
The Night Before Christmas (sort-of)
i wrote this a week or so ago with the intention of performing it at Glastonbury Assembly Rooms yesterday night, where we had a great Winter Solstice Community Gathering. i didn't though: i hadn't taken the trouble to learn it - and i think reading on stage is really naff. anyway, it's to the meter of The Night Before Christmas. i hope you enjoy it
==============
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
just one creature was stirring - he was clicking a mouse
the flatscreen was glowing, for political geeks
found the holes in the cover and out sprang Wikileaks
but this christmas was bleak, Dad had just lost his job
over joining the union, and not shutting his gob
and his sister the student, protesting the cuts
got beaten with truncheons, no if and no buts...
so no presents this year, not festive and jolly
some dickhead had stolen their tree and the holly
and mistletoe, well, he'd tried it for weeks
but the girls at his school just don't go for geeks
but this won't be a tale of intrigue and scandal
or the crown of a holy tree lopped by a vandal
whose currency was an exchange of pure ire
aimed perhaps at an ex-mayor whose arse is on fire
and it won't be about all the crap you can buy
while the soap on the telly brings a tear to your eye
or the turkey you stuffed and are eating for dinner
or some bloke in a dress telling you you're a sinner
our geeky friend loaded his weapon of choice
a laptop computer that gave him a voice
not a riot, he thought there's a cleverer way
and it's just like a game...and i like to play
so he got on a chatroom and with a few clicks
he found out how to pull off some pretty neat tricks
bombarded some websites with masses of data
so for everything else there's...bye! see you later
his low orbit ion cannon blasted like hell
the targets he aimed at wobbled and fell
but he wasn't alone. there was a knock at the door
who could it be? and at half past four?
a man and a woman was what he saw there
the woman was pregnant, the man had white hair
no sleigh and no reindeer, no stocking and orange
but the king of the geeks - it was Julian Assange!
he said 'hello mate, i know how this looks
but the motel is full and they think i'm a crook
so now we're reduced to asking a stranger
cos no way is my kid being born in a manger!
but Julian! he cried, you're arrested for rape!
he replied, with some things, i'm an ignorant ape
i fell for her charms, but i should have known better
cos one leak i don't like is a broken french letter
look on the bright side, he said, it's a mess
but for once in my life, i've got an address!
and people now know i'm a red-blooded male
and i'm discovering all of the leaks in that jail!
so he opened the door and invited them in
i don't care, he thought, if they say it's a sin
he's my hero, he thought, and he might have his faults
but no way should the bastards have dragged him to court!
he gave them his bed and made them some tea
and they talked about what it might mean to be free
of the burden of debt and the misery caused
by the bankers who dictate our government's laws
and the mess we're all in, when it's amply apparent
that things only get better when it's all transparent!
stuff the lies and deception and disinformation
and the horrors committed 'neath the flag of this nation
where the good people try to be good to each other
while some others cash in and would sell their own mother
if it suited them. and they talked until late
when suddenly Julian said 'hey, this is great
but i've work to do. i'm not one for slacking
let me borrow your laptop, and i'll do me some hacking
so Julian sat up and put things in order
while the Three Wise Men got detained at the border
no baby was born, no need for a doctor
no star in the sky, just a black helicopter...
when our geeky friend woke the next day, they were gone
did he dream it all up? no, he couldn't have done
the note on the desk was real, and the chair
had a sweaty bum-print, and a lot of white hair...
and later that day, well what a surprise!
a courier van full of parcels arrived
full of presents and food, and a christmas tree too
it was clear that someone had sent it, but who?
so he looked at the note that he'd brushed to the floor
it said 'thankyou mate' and, what was more
'merry Christmas to your dad and your sis and your mother
but mostly to you, for helping a brother'
'the gifts are all paid for, so don't lose any sleep
i hope they're the right ones, and nothing was cheap
my bank account's frozen, so i couldn't pay
but those tax-dodgers Vodaphone sent some my way. hey hey!'
so merry Solstice and Christmas and Hannukah too
we're just here for the love and the peace and it's true
that while we may be in a small spot of bother
there's nothing that can stop us being good to each other
==============
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
just one creature was stirring - he was clicking a mouse
the flatscreen was glowing, for political geeks
found the holes in the cover and out sprang Wikileaks
but this christmas was bleak, Dad had just lost his job
over joining the union, and not shutting his gob
and his sister the student, protesting the cuts
got beaten with truncheons, no if and no buts...
so no presents this year, not festive and jolly
some dickhead had stolen their tree and the holly
and mistletoe, well, he'd tried it for weeks
but the girls at his school just don't go for geeks
but this won't be a tale of intrigue and scandal
or the crown of a holy tree lopped by a vandal
whose currency was an exchange of pure ire
aimed perhaps at an ex-mayor whose arse is on fire
and it won't be about all the crap you can buy
while the soap on the telly brings a tear to your eye
or the turkey you stuffed and are eating for dinner
or some bloke in a dress telling you you're a sinner
our geeky friend loaded his weapon of choice
a laptop computer that gave him a voice
not a riot, he thought there's a cleverer way
and it's just like a game...and i like to play
so he got on a chatroom and with a few clicks
he found out how to pull off some pretty neat tricks
bombarded some websites with masses of data
so for everything else there's...bye! see you later
his low orbit ion cannon blasted like hell
the targets he aimed at wobbled and fell
but he wasn't alone. there was a knock at the door
who could it be? and at half past four?
a man and a woman was what he saw there
the woman was pregnant, the man had white hair
no sleigh and no reindeer, no stocking and orange
but the king of the geeks - it was Julian Assange!
he said 'hello mate, i know how this looks
but the motel is full and they think i'm a crook
so now we're reduced to asking a stranger
cos no way is my kid being born in a manger!
but Julian! he cried, you're arrested for rape!
he replied, with some things, i'm an ignorant ape
i fell for her charms, but i should have known better
cos one leak i don't like is a broken french letter
look on the bright side, he said, it's a mess
but for once in my life, i've got an address!
and people now know i'm a red-blooded male
and i'm discovering all of the leaks in that jail!
so he opened the door and invited them in
i don't care, he thought, if they say it's a sin
he's my hero, he thought, and he might have his faults
but no way should the bastards have dragged him to court!
he gave them his bed and made them some tea
and they talked about what it might mean to be free
of the burden of debt and the misery caused
by the bankers who dictate our government's laws
and the mess we're all in, when it's amply apparent
that things only get better when it's all transparent!
stuff the lies and deception and disinformation
and the horrors committed 'neath the flag of this nation
where the good people try to be good to each other
while some others cash in and would sell their own mother
if it suited them. and they talked until late
when suddenly Julian said 'hey, this is great
but i've work to do. i'm not one for slacking
let me borrow your laptop, and i'll do me some hacking
so Julian sat up and put things in order
while the Three Wise Men got detained at the border
no baby was born, no need for a doctor
no star in the sky, just a black helicopter...
when our geeky friend woke the next day, they were gone
did he dream it all up? no, he couldn't have done
the note on the desk was real, and the chair
had a sweaty bum-print, and a lot of white hair...
and later that day, well what a surprise!
a courier van full of parcels arrived
full of presents and food, and a christmas tree too
it was clear that someone had sent it, but who?
so he looked at the note that he'd brushed to the floor
it said 'thankyou mate' and, what was more
'merry Christmas to your dad and your sis and your mother
but mostly to you, for helping a brother'
'the gifts are all paid for, so don't lose any sleep
i hope they're the right ones, and nothing was cheap
my bank account's frozen, so i couldn't pay
but those tax-dodgers Vodaphone sent some my way. hey hey!'
so merry Solstice and Christmas and Hannukah too
we're just here for the love and the peace and it's true
that while we may be in a small spot of bother
there's nothing that can stop us being good to each other
Thursday, 25 November 2010
the story of an 'abandoned' police van
you might have followed the media coverage of the students demonstrating all over the country yesterday:
here's one of the images that was widely used: as you can see, it looks like a bunch of masked hoodlums out for a bit of 'bovver'. however, i think things are not what they seem. it may be that some young people smashed up a police vehicle: but why was it left there? where are the other vans? why was it left unattended right in the path of a demo?
ever been fishing? i think this van was left as 'bait', in the same way that, during the G20 business last year, about the only shopfront not boarded up on the demo route was - guess what? a branch of RBS, who were profligate gamblers of the worst sort, before they were bailed out with squillions of our quids. smashing up banks and police vans makes for good pictures in the Daily Mail and the rest of the 'yellow press'
anyway, here's another pic of the same van:
in the Guardian, this was originally captioned something like "Protesters try to stop a ploice van from moving", since changed to the more accurate "Students in London try to stop a police van from being attacked". the young people in this picture probably know what any sensible activist knows: that violence tends to alienate the very people you've got common ground with. that's why the road protestors in the mid-90s were almost never violent: they stood their ground, often with a struggle, but didn't use violence in the process. eventually, even the right-wing the press couldn't keep printing crap about them - the lies didn't work, and the protestors gained widespread sympathy, including in arch-Tory organs like the Telegraph and, believe it or not, Country Life.
anyway, here's the picture that really caught my eye (and not just for the obvious reasons):
five pretty young women pose for the camera with their fashion accessories in perfect order. what was the demo to them? did it turn into their chance for catwalk fame? they're not exactly dressed for a demo on what was a chilly day - and i wonder if they've brought their make-up with them?
is this what demos have become? has Big Brother come out of the house and done a mind-meld with his namesake, who lives among the securocrats?
i'm wondering whether to be happy or depressed about this last image. are they showing that they're empowered and making their own decisions, including looking good on a demo? or have they swallowed the oxymoronic 'celebrity culture' blue pill and intent on getting noticed? is the demo just another photo-op? i'm still wondering
well, at least they took the trouble to turn up instead of staying at home with a copy of Elle. and hats off to all the young people who got off their arses - i'm pleased to see that they're not the bunch of depoliticised, feckless, drunken twits parts of the media will have us think they are
here's one of the images that was widely used: as you can see, it looks like a bunch of masked hoodlums out for a bit of 'bovver'. however, i think things are not what they seem. it may be that some young people smashed up a police vehicle: but why was it left there? where are the other vans? why was it left unattended right in the path of a demo?ever been fishing? i think this van was left as 'bait', in the same way that, during the G20 business last year, about the only shopfront not boarded up on the demo route was - guess what? a branch of RBS, who were profligate gamblers of the worst sort, before they were bailed out with squillions of our quids. smashing up banks and police vans makes for good pictures in the Daily Mail and the rest of the 'yellow press'
anyway, here's another pic of the same van:
in the Guardian, this was originally captioned something like "Protesters try to stop a ploice van from moving", since changed to the more accurate "Students in London try to stop a police van from being attacked". the young people in this picture probably know what any sensible activist knows: that violence tends to alienate the very people you've got common ground with. that's why the road protestors in the mid-90s were almost never violent: they stood their ground, often with a struggle, but didn't use violence in the process. eventually, even the right-wing the press couldn't keep printing crap about them - the lies didn't work, and the protestors gained widespread sympathy, including in arch-Tory organs like the Telegraph and, believe it or not, Country Life.anyway, here's the picture that really caught my eye (and not just for the obvious reasons):
five pretty young women pose for the camera with their fashion accessories in perfect order. what was the demo to them? did it turn into their chance for catwalk fame? they're not exactly dressed for a demo on what was a chilly day - and i wonder if they've brought their make-up with them?is this what demos have become? has Big Brother come out of the house and done a mind-meld with his namesake, who lives among the securocrats?
i'm wondering whether to be happy or depressed about this last image. are they showing that they're empowered and making their own decisions, including looking good on a demo? or have they swallowed the oxymoronic 'celebrity culture' blue pill and intent on getting noticed? is the demo just another photo-op? i'm still wondering
well, at least they took the trouble to turn up instead of staying at home with a copy of Elle. and hats off to all the young people who got off their arses - i'm pleased to see that they're not the bunch of depoliticised, feckless, drunken twits parts of the media will have us think they are
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
FIT officer loses his hat
Student Demonstration Time:
i respect these kids: they've really got their shit together, as you can hear from the chants
i respect these kids: they've really got their shit together, as you can hear from the chants
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Captain SKA - Liar Liar
Captain Ska says:
Dark days have arrived in Britain. The coalition government and their toxic flotilla of cuts are ruthlessly hacking away jobs, damaging vulnerable lives and chipping away at the very fabric of our society. We cannot afford to stand by and let this country sail towards a future of inequality.
Fear Not! Captain SKA and his ship have arrived to fight this coalition, but more crew members are urgently required, there is strength in numbers.Pass this video on to other potential shipmates.
and now for the amazing Henry Rollins on a similar subject:
Dark days have arrived in Britain. The coalition government and their toxic flotilla of cuts are ruthlessly hacking away jobs, damaging vulnerable lives and chipping away at the very fabric of our society. We cannot afford to stand by and let this country sail towards a future of inequality.
Fear Not! Captain SKA and his ship have arrived to fight this coalition, but more crew members are urgently required, there is strength in numbers.Pass this video on to other potential shipmates.
and now for the amazing Henry Rollins on a similar subject:
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