Up the Wall

25 November 2011 at 11:45 pm (Education, Insight, People, Plinky Prompts, Rants, Relationships, Self, Wellbeing)
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I'm generally a laid-back girl, usually opting for the path of least resistance. That is the reason that the few things that drive me crazy really push me to the border of certifiability.

Stupidity 2

Actually, come to think about it, there are only two real things that drive me crazy – two major things that branch out into smaller instances, but we're looking at the big picture here.

The first is a lack of personal space and time. I need a corner, if that's all I can get, to build my book fortress and call it mine, with nobody messing with it. Sharing everything really makes me suffer. My old workstation, which I couldn't customise because someone else would be sitting there next shift, made me twitchy. Now I'm putting up with dodgy chairs instead of the comfy sofas, all for the bliss of having my computer desk as my exclusive territory.

Personal time may or may not be associated with my personal space. I really need some time alone each day, away from any kind of responsibility, to read or listen to music and decompress. That's either a half-hour sprawled on the bed with a book after the young one is tucked in, or a bimble to the supermarket with my mp3 player on, or, if I'm really lucky, a wander about town while shortstuff is at school. I become cranky and snappish if I don't get it, particularly long-term, as it tends to happen when we're visiting with my mother, who doesn't understand 'doing nothing time'.

The other thing, which makes me see red and gives me opportunities to exercise my self-control (not always successfully) is human stupidity. I used to spend considerable lengths on time on Yahoo Answers, and the sheer amounts of ignorance and idiocy spouted there were staggering. From the 'Catholic vs Christian' dichotomy to the father who was worried that his newborn daughter would become a lesbian if she breastfed, I would invariably end up debating ways to give that gene pool a good bleaching.

Now I'm on other debating communities, and some of the opinions I hear expressed there make me nearly foam at the mouth. I want to give some of the consistently WTF? authors a good shake (until their teeth rattle) and find out which planet they fell out of and if they maintain any link at all with reality. Just like the claim that public school-quality pizza is a full balanced meal. The stupid… it burns!

And then there's also the cunning stupid, when people attempt to pull a fast one and then wonder why I call them out on it. Like Jerry Springer guests. The bigger the jackass, the louder the bray.

I'll be looking for the latest edition of the Darwin Awards soon. And if I ever find any evidence that the stupid is contagious, watch me go all Ellen Ripley on the morons unfortunate enough to be within range. Really.

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A Slice of Unreality

7 November 2011 at 10:07 pm (Art, Entertainment, People, Plinky Prompts, Rants, Self)
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Why do they call them reality shows? They're all about bunches of people put into unreal circumstances in order to display unreal behaviour.

ballroom

You want a reality show, grab a pair of binoculars and settle to watch your neighbours. Just keep in mind that it won't cut it as an excuse when the cops come in. Fair warning.

It shows that I don't like reality shows, doesn't it?

In fact, I don't get them. I don't see anything real about such shows, beyond the fact that they're largely unscripted. Real people don't shut themselves in houses with a bunch of strangers and no contact with the outside world, don't allow themselves to go to the loo on national prime time television, and don't display their bitchiest selves, trying to trip up their fellow inmates and kick them off the show.

Or they shouldn't. I suspect I'm witnessing Big Brother-esque behaviour in the workplace and wherever groups of people congregate in general. But enough with digressing.

I won't be trying out for a reality show any time soon. I despise the 'accidental housemates' affairs, and a lot of the more acceptable ones have age, skill or celebrity limits that I don't meet. Assuming that I could, though, I'd definitely line up for a chance to go on a dance show. I'd love to audition for So You Think You Can Dance, though, even if I were young and skillful enough again, I suspect it would be more of a challenge than I could possibly manage. I watch Strictly Come Dancing compulsively, and although I wouldn't dream of pulling an Alesha Dixon (minor celebrity wins the show and becomes major celebrity), it looks like a lot of work – which doesn't scare me – mixed with tremendous fun.

Yes, I think dancing would be just the thing. Judged on skill and work rather than (lack of) character, and not trailing cameras on me every minute every day. Come to think about it, I can still do Strictly. I just need to rake up some more celebrity points. Big deal!

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Beam Me Over

20 January 2011 at 12:21 pm (Family, Rants, Travel)
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Transporter technology is around the corner, they say. I only hope the first steps are not like on those very early Star Trek episodes.

I’ve never been the kind of person who enjoys travelling. I like being in other places well enough, but the actual travelling part, the means of transport, tickets, delays, cancellations due to weather conditions, lost luggage… just no. I’d leap for a transporter as soon as it was done being beta-tested, I kid you not.

I understand that teleportation isn’t going to be like clicking your heels and finding yourself at the office, and I expect fares are going to be like those of airlines, at least to start with, but I don’t mind either of that. (Well, I do mind the price tag, but one can’t have everything in this life, so I can live with it.) I assume that transporters would replace flying first: they would be the perfect alternative, with minimal environmental footprint. I don’t care when ground travel would be replaced; there’s something soothing about train or bus trips. But not having to drive all the way to Heathrow the night before, spend the night at one of the airport hotels, arrange for long-term car parking and spend half a day around airports (few places can be more boring than airside lounges) and in the air… yes, please. Although I suspect the first transporters would be located in airport facilities, that would change soon… and even before then, I’d have the choice of the half-hour ride to Stansted.

Such technology would allow me to skip over to Athens in the blink of an eye. Even with the terminals being at airports, it would take a couple of hours to get from my home to my mother’s, not a whole day and night (or most of a day, if I’m willing to go the fast and uncomfortable way). I could receive an emergency call and make it there at a decent interval. I know that’s a grimmer prospect than a holiday, but my biggest fear since I moved away is that my mother might need me, and I will be too late getting there to offer it.

So yes, transporter technology for the win. Scrap those jetpacks and flying cars, ye Real Scientists! There are more useful things to figure out about moving first!

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No More Heroes?

19 January 2011 at 9:18 pm (Music, People, Rants, Reading, Religion, YouTube)
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Hugely, obscenely misunderstood song. It’s not about nihilism and ‘the age of heroes is past’. It is about calling for more heroes, for a way out of mediocrity. ‘Whatever happened to the heroes?’ If your English is not good enough to understand the words, don’t critique.

Excuse the fit of pique; I recently came across a series of articles on rock music collected from a Christian youth magazine I used to read. I hadn’t seen them in a few years, and only came across them on my last visit home, while sorting out books to take back with me. I remember reading them when I was a teenager and being rather unconvinced. As an adult, I can fully grasp the extent of their bias and ignorance, and both are monumental. Really, proof that one should leave well alone if they don’t know their subject well enough. Ignorance is no excuse for misinformation. (Yes, I know it happens all the time, but don’t get me started along that track.)

The heart of the matter, however, is that people need heroes. Rather, they need role models, and in the absence of heroes, they’ll opt for antiheroes or villains. So, whatever happened to the heroes in the 21st century?

The short answer is: we’ve grown closer to them, and they no longer seem larger than life, like they used to. With the media covering every corner of the planet, it is easy to find out nearly everything about those who are everything one wants to be, and that makes them appear just human, regardless of their glamour levels. It’s hard to imagine legends of divinity about someone that you know even where they stop for coffee.

It’s not the heroes’ fault if they fail to fill the boots we prefabricate for them. It’s up to us and what we want from our lives. If you want 15 minutes of fame and aim to go on Big Brother to get it, you should be prepared to bitch and whore for attention, and eventually to be shoved aside when the next crop comes up. If you want to be Sir Alan Sugar when you grow up, be prepared to be treated the way he treats his apprentices on the way. We all have a big goal, but it doesn’t matter when we reach it, or even if we reach it at all. What does matters is the how; the journey there and the choices we make along the way. Because the goal is one moment and the journey is, you know, one’s life.

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Only Boring People Get Bored

7 January 2011 at 9:18 pm (Entertainment, Internet, Rants, Reading, Roleplaying, Work, Writing)
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Yeahno. We don’t live in a Hollywood action movie.

I remember seeing the sentiment on a Radio Times coaster: ‘I refuse to be bored because I’m not boring.’ At the time, I agreed with it. Later, I got to thinking more on it, and I was no longer so sure.

You see, everyday life is boring. There are thrilling events for everyone, bigger and smaller ones, those that carry us away willy-nilly and those that we may miss if we’re not observant. But they are the exceptions, not the rule, and there’s plenty of downtime in between. There’s tons of opportunity to be bored at work, or doing chores at home. Boredom is a thing of the mind, and one doesn’t need to be idle in order to be bored. Go do housework, and you will know what I mean.

So it’s obvious that having a boring job doesn’t make you a boring person – only a bored person. I’m not sure how the fallacy arose, but I can imagine it being a creation of the entertainment business; a gimmick to sell more ‘exciting things to do or see’. The Radio Times occurrence certainly supports such an assumption. I shudder to think what we would be like if we were stimulated all the time. Watching kids at a birthday party and, more importantly, at home right afterwards, can give you an idea. We’d blow our fuses in no time.

There’s not much one can do for boredom on the job. I used to go for the evening shifts in the office, when all I had to worry about, from halfway into the shift onwards, was the odd phone call, and got tons of writing done in the quiet hours; during the daytime open hours, workload could fluctuate wildly, and I couldn’t get away with anything fun while I had to be on call. Household chores can be made bearable with music – there’s no reason I can’t scrub and sing or shimmy at the same time!

The internet is another matter altogether, though. One would think it’s impossible to be bored while on the net, not with the tons of places to be and things to see/watch/listen to. This is largely right, although the extent depends on what everyone likes doing on the net. I’m not really into games or streaming shows; most of my time is spent on Elliquiy and WEaT, writing and socialising, and there are definitely slow times – when the writing muse, mine or my partners’, is not cooperating, or when nobody is around to talk to. In such cases, reading is once more my rescue. I don’t like reading on-screen, though I can do it for short periods of time, but the Kindle, or any physical book or magazine lying around (and there are many of those!) can oblige.

Come to think about it, boring people, whatever their flavour, are not good with words – they don’t read, don’t write, don’t have anything to talk about. Words, going in or coming out, one’s own or others’, are always a way out of the bog.

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