Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Vroom Vroom, technology enters the race for real

This is fantastic, developed by Geek, silent, fast and not a hint of carbon based fuel. I just wish I could afford this car http://www.wired.com/news/wiredmag/0,71414-1.html?tw=wn_story_page_next1


Oh yes, this would be my dream car http://sfgate.com/columnists/morford/ . I am ecstatic to see something like this come out. Maybe not as ravingly ecstatic as the writer of that article. I always swore to myself- no car unless it was alternate fuel. Of course funds are a little low right now, and with prices like 80k USD- well I don't think I have enough years in my life to save up for that. It gives me a goal though, and I can take my time and save up for the next (cheaper) more refined generation.

Anyway- REJOICE, filth spewing, hydrocarbon guzzling, combustion engines are on their way out, Finally- too many years too late perhaps-we have a real revolution in the auto industry.

I just jope they achieve decent market uptake.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

We Can Save The World

Hello dear readers, are you still there? It has been a while, and aside from one person who has relentlessly badgered me about new posts, I am sure you have all given up. Ever the optimist however, I am going to assume that you are all there, salivating at the prospect of some further amazing content. I shall not ignore you, my legion of adoring readers, I shall not forsake you in your need. No, in fact I would like to run a little test, and I hope that you will become my willing test subjects.

To try and stir up some actual response from you, and, of course, to help me help you satisfy your unquenchable desire for for more content.
I am going to post a little teaser from a short story that I have been playing with. You can then let me know if your interest is piqued and if you would like to read the whole story. You can leave a comment here, or even e-mail me.

We Can Save The World
Part 1:
Double Edged

...
The whine of the propellers had changed. James unbelted, just as Andy looked back and flashed five fingers at him from the cockpit. James looked down at the carpet of green below them. Not quite a complete carpet, there were ink stains of darkness where rivers and slight clearings cracked the forest canopy from beneath. Flashes of light burst on and off streaking the darkness, and although James could not hear anything above the chopper's engines, he knew what they were.
No one had fired up at them yet, and that was a little surprising, their chopper was not exactly the latest stealth model, and surely even the most ill equiped forces as the ones engaged below would have some sort of radar operational. Perhaps they are just too busy shooting at each other . Fighting over the big bomb.
Where was it? James just hoped it was actually down there, getting decent satellite and intelligence from this jungle war was an absolute headache.
"Go!" The voice boomed in his ear, and then his right arm was yanked. He barely managed to snatch his helmet before he was whipped over the edge and caught in a dizzying spiral towards the forest. He locked his arm around his companion’s neck and pulled his knees as far up as he could.
They hit the forest floor with an audible thud, the shock of mike's impact kicking up a shower of mud and leaves. James timed it perfectly, he had had practice, and pushed off from Mike’s back in an aerial somersault, switching his night vision goggles on as he landed. Ahead of him, Mike pulled himself out off their crater, mud slipping down the smooth casing of his metal legs. “Razor Get to the prize...

Friday, July 28, 2006

Another late post

Again dear reader, again I find myself having to apologise for the lack of meaningful update, or indeed any update to the blog YOU CANNOT RESIST. In this case, of course, meaningful is being used in an entirely subjective manner.
As usual though I have an excuse, which I am sure you must be aware of; that’s right GBSOD has been moving. Spug and I have scoured Wimbledon and Colliers Wood areas, wearing our feet away under an unseemly hot sun. Neither of us really believed that England was supposed to experience temperatures above 30 degrees. In fact I am fairly certain Spug was expecting the max temp to be no higher than –5, at all times.

I am currently job-hunting, and pestering BT about our Broadband. As it is I am going to have to go and pay exorbitant amounts of a dwindling capital just to post this in a net cafe. The things I sacrifice for you dear reader.

I have to admit that 4 months ago I would never have expected to find myself queuing in a Job center for benefits, the dole. Never have dreamed of queuing for the sorts of jobs, I erroneously thought, my education would have elevated me beyond. Yes blue collars surround me.
Look at me a snotty nosed, bourgeoisie, pretentious snob! In truth I am really happy, to get the chance to see the world from another angle. An angle that most people with similar backgrounds from Zimbabwe might never see otherwise. As a white in Zim, there is a line that you can never cross, no matter how poor and desolate you are. You never quite reach the bottom of the pile. It isn't easy that’s for sure, living in zim is tough no matter what colour your skin, no matter how tanned you may have become over the generations, but there is a distinction still, a big one - if you are a honkey.

What always brought it home to me, what always made me to want to shout in frustration, was when a white haired old man, would call me, Sir, the only reason because I was born into a particular skin pigment category- no more, no less.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Happiness is...

To continue in a slightly thematic vein,

I noticed on my favourite writers blog, a list on the 10 things that will make you happy. It is mostly about writing, but, to paraphrase (and rearrange) a bit Nothing will make you happy except:
# 11- Being Happy will make you happy.

Which is a very good point, and so true.

I have another fantastic and immensly quotable quote from Heather who (responding to Catharsis) delivered the following pearls:

'There is nothing, neither good nor bad, but thinking makes it so.'
' Thinkers create their own worlds and wonder why it is that others need someone or something to follow.'

Sunday, June 18, 2006

The lesser spotted ramblings

I have to apologise, dear readers, for a complete lack of significant update since, well since the beginning. As most of you are aware though, I have been sick and rather busy. All is not lost though, unless of course all of you have all already given up bothering to check for new content. No, I am still here and ready to enrich and add meaning your lives.

I have passed all the exams for my first module and I am now one complete step closer to becoming a web designer, and the true satisfaction of a real job. A job where I may earn enough money to become a blip on the radar screens of the goblins of the dark side of the force- the market force. I will, by being able to actually buy the odd piece of over priced merchandise develop statsitical and actuarial meaning. And, quite possibly, consequently have more spam and exclusive -one time only- you will fail at life without this deal- offers thrust at me.

I have to admit, as much I dislike shopping, especially the physical act of battling through massed armies of fellow shoppers. Armed with straggling kids and ram-like oversized prams ( with turning circles not unlike that of first generation tanks). I do like to shop. No I am not a (complete) moron, I hate shopping, but in certain very specific circumstances I like to shop. I like to browse great shelves full of things I want. I say browse because actually buying anything would involve spending money. Something I currently lack.
I suppose that is part of the attraction, the desire is hightened by the knowledge that I can't have it. Yet...
I try to stay out of those siren brothels, because it it so easy under their spell to convince yourself that you can afford something, just this once, as you know a treat. It is so easy to forget, once inside, all those previous purchases. It is so easy and that the particlar idol really is, this time, the one your future happiness relies upon.
Even if each time before we found ourselves sitting staring blankly at an inanimate soulless mass produced product. The hastily torn packaging scattered around us, an impromtu pentagram, a pagan shrine to our new Happiness: and there is nothing, no epiphany. Perhaps already we think about the sequel, we need that now.

Merchandise that has been hyped, by advertising, to levels where anticipation of the 'thing' becomes a mass hysteria (like waiting for the Da Vinci Code movie- those poor misguided fools). A fleetingly tangible emptiness . For, once having purchased the 'thing' and experienced that brief rush of actualisation - finally owning what I always wanted- the 'thing' becomes its own anti-climax.

In a turn of events which, redolent of a slight hypocrisy: I have applied for a job in a well known high street retail outlet.

And I managed to get an interview.

The interview went well, well I felt comfortable during it, and afterwards I could think of no glaring faux pas that might have slipped my lips. I might even have a chance at getting offered the job. As Nix said: She will remember me and that is a good thing. Far better than being so normal and expected you fade into the background noise of normality. I just don't know if being rememberd for interesting stories about elephants and their sensitivity to chillis is going to help - in any way- in getting a job as a sales assistant in a retail store in the middle of England.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Catharsis

If my life was a movie, and there must surely be so few of us that don't - at one time or another- want to live the life of a movie character, I would have stopped watching a long time ago. Out of sheer boredom.

I say a movie character, not a movie star, becuase I think only a very few, hopefully, people aspire to become movie stars; that life of flashy emptiness. Being a great actor might be somebody's dream. But being a movie star! I can't bring myself to even imagine wanting such an existence.
That brings me back though, to the somewhat nebulous point, I can't imagine what I would want my life for, not really. I have my dreams and I have my few achievements, some of which might even be achievement enough to make more than just a mother proud. But I doubt it, and to be frank, I don't care. I don't want to feel like I need people to feel proud of me or admire me. No, as much as that might make one feel good, it is not enough, it is too ephemeral and subjective. I want something longer lasting, something that satiates my life, that great hunger, I want to admire, myself. I want avoid that feeling that might creep up on me, as I whitlle away at a plastic stick*, crouched and white haired, that feeling of sadness, failure and regret.
Failing having a completely fulfiling life, maybe I could have have something that others have attained or at least appear to have obtained... Faith. I wish I could block my snide senses whisphering and filling my head with their cynical views on this world. I wish I could forget my scientific training, and cast my interest in the material world away, like a soiled and scratchy cloak. Come, lord God, show yourself. Give me a sign.

Blind love is hard. We 'educated', 'free thinkers' might sneer and worse at those with deep conviction. We watch them walk around like moles stumbling into hard facts and, through sheer force of will, converting them into piles of fertile soil from which they cultivate further faith; and we laugh, although I think it is a nervous laugh at times. Nervous because the moles can be so destructive in their pursuit to crumble and turn all that opposes their belief, and nervous perhaps, because maybe we are missing something. Maybe we have been excluded from faith, and we don't know, we can't know, entirely if that is a good or bad thing.
Of course I am not focusing solely on religious faith here. Although in most cases it is the most extreme in all ways. Faith in technlology, faith in democracy, faith in money (capitalism as a religion anyone?)... these are some other faiths that seem at least from my limited (because life- the bitch- has trapped me within myself and I can experience only myself fully) perspective, to have arisen and in some ways supplanted much religious faith.
Why am I rambling on? Why do I feel the need to write this down and perhaps share this? I don't know. I do not intend to belie my previous statement: It is sincerley not my intent to use this in any small way as a way to gain attention, that flashy, meretricious praise from the other, from you dear reader. No, I think perhaps I write this, because I am desperate to know: What drives you?
There is a chance that what drives you may catch a hold of me, a new faith that will sweep me away with it, like it does you. Something that will make life MEANINGFUL. Something that will make MY life meaningful, something to satisfy me, or at least give me a reason for this existence.

Down with Nihilism!

*In the future it will have to be a plastic stick, because in my dystopia we will have to get a licence to use wood as there will be so few trees left.

Intro

Welcome to my domain... catch the pun? Actually that doesn't work as a pun dammit. I better fix that. I'll put that on my list of things to do, wherever that is:under the pile of study notes perhaps? It has been so long since I looked there.

You might be asking yourself, why does Nick have a blog, and if you know me a little better than that you might wonder if england has done something -strange- to me...
Yes, can you believe it? Nick, following a trend, and worse going against his ingrained aversion to the current paradigm of attention seeking, ego stroking narcsasits desperate to be different 'unique' . All those who strive to be original; making their amazing, earthshattering intellectual insights and scathing opinions known to the public simultaneously becoming cliche'.

Though I may have done it twice in one year now- finally embracing new fangled, fashionable tech, I have not suddenly developed into a not fashion conscious, commercial centric Ken barbie-doll, capatilast zombie, shell of a man. In fact fashion is still an anathema to me. Umm... Hooray?

But I have a case for my defence: Mobile phones really are useful, and besides they are so ubiquitious now that they have become part of everyday life and no one really cares if you have one or not anymore; it is just a nuisance all round if I don't have one.

As for the Blog, which I have always thought of (and still do for the most part) as the more pretensious and less committed version of getting a tattoo and nose piercing. Only more ubiquitous -and thus even less appealing- and incredibly emo. It is, however, no longer an entirely 'image garnering tool', there are some good blogs out there. For those of you interested check out my favourtite author-blog linked to the right there- 'They must need bears'. Besides I do not intend or indeed want the public gawking at my blog or oggling at tweaked pictures of myself and my fluffy pug Toto.

No, the idea behind this blog is it to keep all of you, my greatly diffuse network of friends and family connected. Connected with ME. That is of course if interest is kept up, on both sides. On yours dear reader, because I don't want to know what happens when a word crashes into another in the middle of the page and there is no reader to see it, and mine - obviously this is all about me. Wow, there goes my ego already, heel boy!

I am also harbouring a secret dream that if I set it up and you guys click like mad at the ads I can earn a bit of pocket money. But shush, don't tell google...

This may very well end up as another of my many projects that gets left chocking on the dust of some new found dream that snaps my head around as it flashes by. But it might be usefull and hopefully even mildly entertaining while it lasts, so please do visit and comment. I like invoggorating, if pretension and or nonsense filled,arguments as much as the next person, perhaps more... so lets debate.

Oh, one last thing... hopefully this will provide another reason, and outlet, for my writing. The old adage, practice makes perfect... well I think we will all agree I need some of that then.