Digital devolution

So, I'm a bit of a geek, and, as such, I'm quite a fan of most modern technology. But I have to admit that I'm baffled by the recent urge people seem to have to "digitally remaster" every goddamn thing.

Take, for example, Star Wars. The three original Star Wars movies were bloody fantastic. Great plots, great special effects (considering when they were made), great characters, sexy actors (Harrison Ford in THOSE leather trousers - yum!), the films had everything. So, how delighted was I when they released them on DVD! Very delighted, that's how much, especially since my video player had packed it in and went to electronic heaven.

But... then I started to notice that... the films weren't quite the same as they used to be. There was all this newfangled digital imagery going on. And it just didn't work. Jabba looks ridiculous now, as do most of the other freaky characters in those scenes. I mean, before, we knew they were puppets and people dressed up in foam costumes, but they were still believable. Now, they just look crap.

Same goes for digitally remastered music. Record companies have started taking these old tunes, and whacking them through a computer in a bid to make them sound "better". But, by doing so, they remove all those wonderful old scratchy sounds which are as much as part of the music as the lyrics or the tune. I'm thinking of CDs I heard recently by people like Billie Holliday and Louis Armstrong (the cheaps ones you get for three quid in Tescos - I refuse to pay more than a fiver for music).

The only time I've ever agreed with digitally remastering is on the Led Zeppelin DVD featuring the 1970 gig at the Royal Albert Hall and the 1975 gig at Earl's Court. Basically, they found a whole load of old footage, cleaned it up and stuck it on this DVD, and the result is just awesome. There were bits of the film reel that had actually disintigrated or been damaged beyond repair, but instead of trying to generate graphics, they just stuck in a couple of stills instead. The result is a fantastic, continuous concert, with some rare footage and some great shots of the band.

Other than this, I think digital remastering needs to stop. I'm a dedicated follower of the "If it ain't broke, don't fucking break it" school of thought. I understand the need to put old music and movies on new media formats such as CDs and DVDs, but why can't they just transfer it across as is?

Anyhoo, aside from that, I think that the digital revolution has triggered a devolution in the human species. The easier life gets, the more stupid we become. I used to be able to remember loads of phone numbers and do long division in my head. But now that I've got a mobile phone, I can only remember my home number in Ireland, and I can barely add two numbers together without the use of a calculator.

I almost wish that whole Y2K fiasco had become a reality. That would have been fun. People actually having to get up off their arse to switch on the radio, or change TV channels. People going outside for walks instead of sitting inside playing computer games. Proper home cooked meals, instead of microwaved crap. People actually having real conversations instead of IM'ing strangers all over the world.

Then again, if it had happened, you wouldn't be reading this blog, so I suppose it's not all bad.

Clash of the titles - Geeks V Nerds

The other day, someone (jokingly, I hope) referred to me as a nerd. And I was really, REALLY offended. And not for the reasons you may think (i.e., that being called names is nasty), but because I've always considered myself a bit of a geek, which is oh so much better than being a nerd.

In my opinion, being a geek means that you're smart, but not in a "better-than-you" way. Geeks are useful to have around, because they know how to fix things, but they're still fun to hang out with. They're a bit unusual, and have, at best, an eclectic taste in music, but are still, you know, normal. The word "geek" conjures up images of kids with long hair and black clothes, who would be cool if only they had a bit more confidence.

I consider myself a bit of a geek, because I do I do have a fondness for figuring out how to fix things (TV, stereo, DVD player, computer), and I'm bloody good at things like website design and computer programming. But I don't do them for fun. I do them when essential or when I can make money out of it. And therein lies the difference between nerds and geeks.

The word "nerd" conjures up images of a ginger kid with glasses and a crap haircut, chinos, white socks with black shoes, plaid shirt buttoned up to the top and tucked into the waistband of said chinos, calculator and pens in his breast pocket (in a pocket protector, of course), and a constant runny nose.

Nerds are also good at things like fixing computers and programming, but they do it for FUN! They ENJOY it! They do things like buy loads of cables and network their computers together so that they can play multiplayer Doom all night long, in a dark room, illuminated only by the sickly glow from their many, many monitors. They're usually quite smart, but they think that this elevates themselves above others, when, in fact, it really doesn't.

The dictionary of slang defines nerd as "An intelligent, obsessive and often socially inept person, typically thought of as boring or dull. The expression is often associated with technically minded computer users." How true.

So, in summary, geeks are cool, in a kooky sort of way. Think of people like Dana Skully in The X-Files, or Johnny Depp. You know they're awfully intelligent, but you still want to be their friend (plus they're hot). Nerds, on the other hand, should be rounded up and shot because they're smelly know-it-alls - think of people like Comic Book Guy in the Simpsons, and Bill Gates.

But that's just what I think.

Sign of the times

Usually, I spend my hour and a half morning bus commute engrossed in some book or other, trying in vain to ignore the other plebs on the bus, whilst holding a scented handkerchief over my nose in an attempt to block out the nauseating smells of modern humanity. I suppose it's my own fault for spending all my money on scented handkerchiefs instead of a car.

However, now and again I look up and gaze out the filth-encrusted window at this most beloved shitty-city, and ponder upon the objects that meet my gaze.

And I've noticed that, we are indeed a society of thicks. Below I present my exhibits, observed in England and Ireland over the past few months.

Exhibit A

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On the Dublin Bus regulatory signage displayed on all buses: "Dublin Bus Bye-Laws".

Now, I'm pretty sure that should be spelt 'By-Laws'. That's how it is spelt in every other country I've been to, and in fact, in this, our very own country too, by people who actually give a damn.

Exhibit B

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On a sign in a pharmacy window: "Form-ily known as".

That's not even spelt phonetically, for Christ's sake!

Exhibit C

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On a factory sign: "Shoe's! Shoe's! Shoe's!"

Sweet Jeebus, are they serious?

Now, I understand that the people who commission these signs probably don't care too much, or don't even realise that these shoddy signs make their company look foolish in the eyes of sophisticates like myself. But, it saddens me to think that the people who make the signs care so little about their work that they have no idea how dismal their spelling and grammar is. I mean, if you're going to start up a company that makes signs for other companies, wouldn't you at least ensure that the monkeys you hired to work for you can spell?!? That they have at least a tenuous grasp of grammar?!?!?! I would, but perhaps that's because I've been cursed with a conscience.

I thought text speak was going to be the downfall of society. This whole business of dropping vowels simply so you can cram more shit about the pizza-faced boy you snogged last night into your text to Trayyyyceeeeee. And I feared for the future of our society and our children and our English exams. But, it seems that my worst nightmare has already come true, and the thicks are already taking over.

As an English graduate, I'm horribly offended by this visual sodomy.

But that's nothing compared to the "witty" church signs I've seen ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE! Back to my exhibits:

Exhibit D

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"C h c h - What's missing? r u?"

Goddamn you!

Exhibit E

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"Feeling down in the mouth? Come in for a faith lift!"

I hope you burn in hell.

Exhibit F

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"Jesus the carpenter is looking for joiners"

Grrrrrrrrr!

What the hell is this all about? Church isn't "witty"! Church isn't "hip", or "with it"! Church doesn't even know what "it" is, for cryin' out loud! Churches are not groovy, fun places for the kids to hang out instead of doing their homework. So why are they trying to pretend they are? I can just imagine the local vicar looking up at the sign, rubbing his hands together and thinking "That'll convince the heathen bastards to come to mass!"

Silly buggers.

'Course, my favourite sign is the one that said "Long-haired freaky people need not apply". Damn right!

I blame The Spice Girls, 'Heat', and Nicole Richie

What do I blame them for? My current confusion with life.

Why do I blame them? Well, let me tell you!

1. The Spice Girls:

I think I was about 17 when I first heard "Wannabe" and, even though it was absoute crap, it sort of inspired me too. It was the summer before university, and suddenly all the tv shows, newspapers, radio stations and magazines were full of "Girl Power"! Yeah! And, me being the naive, shy little idiot that I was back then (I'm much more sophisticated, learned and cynical now), I bought it. Not the single. I mean that I bought into the whole Girl Power thing.

I thought "Here are these five great, fun, fearless, sexy women, who do what they want, when they want! Hey! I could do that too, if I dressed like a slut!" Well, I didn't dress like a slut, but I did become a lot more confident in myself and my abilities, and thought that if the Spice Girls can rule the world, then so can I, damnit! And, I don't think I'm incorrect in saying that many girls felt the same.

So what went wrong? Well, look at them now. Posh Spice - the most miserable looking bitch on the planet. Someone give her a pie before her elbow pokes your eye out! It seems that the thinner she gets, the bigger her pout and sunglasses get. Silly cow.

Look at Geri, a.k.a. Ginger Spice - I'm fat, I'm skinny, I do yoga, I don't. I eat pies, I throw up. I'm Robbie's girlfriend. No, I'm his fag hag. I got pregnant by some bloke and now Posh is my friend again 'cause she looks even skinnier beside me. I've got a face like I'm chewing a wasp. I'm ginger (need I say more?)

And the rest of them, whatever their names are... So, what does Girl Power get you? Zip! Diddly squat! Nada! Maybe a few more pounds in the bank, and a few less on the hips, but ultimately, it gives you the impression that being a woman sucks.

2. Heat magazine:

The glossy pages! The make-up and hair tips! The "celebs without their makup" photos! The fact if you lose a few pounds you're suddenly in the "eat or die!!!" category, and yet they still can't give poor Michelle McManus a break, and keep urging her to "just lose those few love handles, pet. Put down the pie. There's a good girl."

So... are we supposed to be fat or thin? What is the ideal, the 'norm'? Charlotte Church? But then you always print photographs of her with a bit of a tummy, and make snide remarks. Kelly Brook? But she's got enormous boobs, and the rest of her is just a bit too skinny. She's like Dolly Parton, only taller.

Why print shock-horror skinny celeb pics one week, and then a diet plan the next? WHY, HEAT MAGAZINE? WHY??!?!

I'm confused...

3. Nicole Richie:

I blame Nicole because, despite the fact that she looks like she's going to snap in half any minute now, part of me still admires her for her damn willpower! I'm convinced she's got anti-eating mantras sellotaped to the inside of her ridiculously over-sized glasses. She makes starvation glamourous. She makes me feel that, if only I tried a bit harder I too could be celeb-thin and have fabulous clothes and be in a Jimmy Choo ad campaign. I mean, they've hardly hired her for her figure or looks, so it must be because of her profesionalism - she's lost weight like a pro.

And, I hate her because she keeps insisting on lying to us about eating sandwiches and chips and things. Don't lie, Nicole! Lies make Baby Jesus cry!

oOo

All in all, between the Spice Girls, Heat magazine and Nicole Richie, I don't know what I should be doing with myself. Should I be ambitious and fearless? If I do, will I end up miserable like Posh & Geri? Should I be skinny or fat? How can I tell which is which these days? Should I starve myself like Nicole in order to get what I want? If I do, won't I... I dunno.... die? In about 5 years? From malnutrition?

Hmm.... Perhaps I should stop plugging into the mass media, and go read some Dickens or something...

Livin’ the dream (or Meditations upon turning 28)

Today is the eve of my 28th orbit around the sun. Like many spacemen my age, I shall celebrate by eating cake, drinking far too much wine, and having drunken sex with a stranger (they dont get much stranger than my beau). And, as many of us do on this annual day of celebration and debauchery, I've been thinking upon my years past, present and future, trying to decipher what I've made of my life so far and what's in store for me in the coming years before I shuffle off this mortal coil.

Most importantly, do I feel any older? Short answer, no. Long answer ...eh, no. I don't feel 28. I don't feel 38. I don't particularly feel like a teenager either. I don't really feel any age. I mean, what should I feel like at 28? Should the joints start stiffening up? Should my memory start to go? Should gravity be taking its toll on my bits and pieces? Should the sound of my biological clock ticking keep me awake at night?

After all, in two years time I'll be a third of the way through my life (although I am still toying with the whole live fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse idea). I'm glad to say that none of those things has yet happened. The joints are still fairly well oiled. My memory is still in good nick (relatively; alcohol-related stupidness not taken into account here). Gravity is still my friend and my lovely lady lumps are all still where they should be. As for the biological clock, I can't think of a worse punishment for me to inflict upon the world than the creation of a mini-me.

So what does 28 feel like? Should I feel like an adult? Well, I dont. I still cringe every time one of my friend's parents insists I call them by their first name. I still die of shock every time I hear of one of my peers getting married or buying a house or dropping a sprog. I overhear couples younger than me arguing about the best fridge / washing machine / insurance policy to buy and I think "Jesus, theres something really wrong with this picture". I still can't curse in front of my parents.

Should I feel accomplished at age 28? I suppose so. Many people at this point in their lives have been in their chosen careers for a number of years, and are moving up the ladder, making a name for themselves, getting that company car and yearly bonus, etc. etc. I, on the other hand, have spent far too many years farting about, doing mildly interesting jobs, dipping in and out of university, and thus am only six months into my chosen career. I'm still not sure if its the one for me, and have no idea where it'll take me in future years.

Thing is, even though I'm relatively behind in the career stakes, I've still done quite a bit in my 28 revolutions around the sun. I've travelled. I've lived in other countries. I've got a doctorate. I've had many 'interesting' relationships and jobs. I've been married and divorced, damnit! Mind you, that was a complete headfuck - more like two kids playing at mommies and daddies than a real marriage or even relationship. And yet, part of me still feels like I'm hopelessly immature when compared to my peer group. The thought of buying a house, let alone furniture, horrifies me. The thought of settling down in a nice area, close to the good schools makes me want to reach for a tequila bottle. I don't even wear skirts and heels unless I'm making a real effort on a night out, and even then I feel like an impostor because I don't think I'm nearly adult enough to carry them off.

When I was younger, I suppose that I did think I'd be terribly sophisticated by the time I was 28. Actually, I probably thought that would happen by the time I was in my mid-twenties. I didn't really think I'd make it past 27. Many of my then heroes (Hendrix, Cobain, etc.) choked on vomit or blew their heads off aged 27 - it seemed to me that they knew something nobody else did, so why on earth would I want to live beyond that age? They probably figured that from 28 onwards, life would be consumed with mortgage repayments, washing machines and cleaning baby puke off every item of clothing. Makes sense to me...

Anyways, to cut a rambling drunken story short (drinking a fine Italian wine on a Sunday afternoon - is there anything more decadent?) I suppose my overall sentiment on this eve of my 28th birthday is that I feel somehow disassociated from the whole thing. I dont feel I am destined to run the usual gauntlet of life school, marriage, kids, death. I feel I am destined for something, if not greater, then certainly different. I look forward to finding out what that is. I have a strong sensation that by the eve of my 29th revolution, I shall find myself in quite different circumstances. Here's hoping they're hot and sunny ones, and that it's your turn to go to the bar. Mine's a glass of red.

Slainte.