Friday, May 31, 2002
I'm so confused. First this from Hoopty, then this from Batgrl , and Gawd knows what else.
obviously I have not been immersed enough in my personal blogging circle. clearly this may not be such a bad thing.
I can't really tell whether people are still speaking to each other or whether it's silver pistols at dawn. I'm sure Dawn prefers the former.
anyway, I've had a good day involving coffee, work interviews, op shops, haircuts, nephews, driving in the rain, and some work writing. and now I'm going to have some free drinks.
so confused...
obviously I have not been immersed enough in my personal blogging circle. clearly this may not be such a bad thing.
I can't really tell whether people are still speaking to each other or whether it's silver pistols at dawn. I'm sure Dawn prefers the former.
anyway, I've had a good day involving coffee, work interviews, op shops, haircuts, nephews, driving in the rain, and some work writing. and now I'm going to have some free drinks.
so confused...
Wednesday, May 29, 2002
today's BlogOn
The Google search engine is more than just a way to find stuff; for some Webphiles it's a source of fun and even spiritual guidance at these multi-user, Google-focused blogs.
Googlewhack
Google released an API (application program interface) so that the computing industry could find really useful new things to do with the powerful search engine. This is what it got: Googlewhacking.
The game is custom-made for obsessive types. It involves finding pairs of dictionary words that return only one hit on Google; in other words, that pair of words occur only once together anywhere in cyberspace as defined by Google.
If you ever wondered just how focused and competitive your average geek could be, this site will open your eyes to the full, slightly frightening truth.
Users - anyone who wants to play - can record their "whack" and a short comment in the "whack stack". It's in the comments that the game really happens; boy geeks try to pick up the girl geeks, users barrack for their home towns, and the weird name combinations are given weirder punchlines.
A few examples from the 70,000 whacks so far: "matricidal chortling" brings the note "she won't think it's funny" from Nick and Derek; "mongolic cinematographer" brings the unkind comment, "PRC cameraperson" from Kit Carson; Alison Brown posts "exfoliated ixodid" asking, "did it have hair anyway?"; and Hess Effect downplays his or her success with "hairbrained frivolousness" by saying, "Got it! But it's unimportant..."
For serious time wasters only.
Google Press
Google's own directory to media mentions, the Google Press site averages about one new mention a day. Its archives stretch back to 1998, when it was launched to rave reviews.
Choice quotes extolling the search engine's virtues decorate the page. If you surf into the "Zeitgeist" area, you'll find a list of the most popular and fastest-growing search phrases of past years or the current month; the mums of German-speaking Web users will be pleased to know that "muttertag" was term number one last Mothers' Day.
The Google Blog
Not written by an employee of the Google Corporation, the Google Blog records everything from the release of new versions to the special logos Google puts on to mark such events as Halloween, Christmas and St Patrick's Day.
It can point you to new tricks for finding what you seek, and to sites where expert developers are discussing their Google projects.
Author Aaron Swartz has some credibility with the company; he recently got a tour of their offices, duly documented with his digital camera and posted on the blog.
Ask Google
How many angels will fit on the head of a pin? 40,400, according to Google.The aim of Ask Google is to phrase questions in a way that allows the magic search engine to give a strictly numerical answer.
By searching the millions of sites indexed by Google, this site has proved forever that love is more likely to be free (588,000 results) than expensive (44,700), and that Mark Twain (420) is more kitsch than Jack Kerouac (345).
The Google search engine is more than just a way to find stuff; for some Webphiles it's a source of fun and even spiritual guidance at these multi-user, Google-focused blogs.
Googlewhack
Google released an API (application program interface) so that the computing industry could find really useful new things to do with the powerful search engine. This is what it got: Googlewhacking.
The game is custom-made for obsessive types. It involves finding pairs of dictionary words that return only one hit on Google; in other words, that pair of words occur only once together anywhere in cyberspace as defined by Google.
If you ever wondered just how focused and competitive your average geek could be, this site will open your eyes to the full, slightly frightening truth.
Users - anyone who wants to play - can record their "whack" and a short comment in the "whack stack". It's in the comments that the game really happens; boy geeks try to pick up the girl geeks, users barrack for their home towns, and the weird name combinations are given weirder punchlines.
A few examples from the 70,000 whacks so far: "matricidal chortling" brings the note "she won't think it's funny" from Nick and Derek; "mongolic cinematographer" brings the unkind comment, "PRC cameraperson" from Kit Carson; Alison Brown posts "exfoliated ixodid" asking, "did it have hair anyway?"; and Hess Effect downplays his or her success with "hairbrained frivolousness" by saying, "Got it! But it's unimportant..."
For serious time wasters only.
Google Press
Google's own directory to media mentions, the Google Press site averages about one new mention a day. Its archives stretch back to 1998, when it was launched to rave reviews.
Choice quotes extolling the search engine's virtues decorate the page. If you surf into the "Zeitgeist" area, you'll find a list of the most popular and fastest-growing search phrases of past years or the current month; the mums of German-speaking Web users will be pleased to know that "muttertag" was term number one last Mothers' Day.
The Google Blog
Not written by an employee of the Google Corporation, the Google Blog records everything from the release of new versions to the special logos Google puts on to mark such events as Halloween, Christmas and St Patrick's Day.
It can point you to new tricks for finding what you seek, and to sites where expert developers are discussing their Google projects.
Author Aaron Swartz has some credibility with the company; he recently got a tour of their offices, duly documented with his digital camera and posted on the blog.
Ask Google
How many angels will fit on the head of a pin? 40,400, according to Google.The aim of Ask Google is to phrase questions in a way that allows the magic search engine to give a strictly numerical answer.
By searching the millions of sites indexed by Google, this site has proved forever that love is more likely to be free (588,000 results) than expensive (44,700), and that Mark Twain (420) is more kitsch than Jack Kerouac (345).
a colour scheme selection page that may be useful for site redesigns. or deciding what colour to paint the shed in the backyard. and so on.
scratch that hotel. "The walls go up 7 feet on a 9 1/2 foot ceiling".
no way I'm leaving my computer/leather jacket/anything in there
there had to be a catch...
no way I'm leaving my computer/leather jacket/anything in there
there had to be a catch...
a startlingly honest set of reviews of New York flophouses
"The sorriest of over 250 hotels we have visited in New York. Management wouldn't show us rooms for reasons that became abundantly clear."
"The sorriest of over 250 hotels we have visited in New York. Management wouldn't show us rooms for reasons that became abundantly clear."
I don't know whether to be pleased or really p-d off.
my work computer can play CDs!
all this time I've been drowning out annoying work noises with annoying radio noises and online sites that crash my browser, when I could have been typing away to the sweet grooves of The Whitlams or some nice non-distracting instrumental thing.
another blow for offlineness to add to the fact that I've decided to buy my air ticket from a real travel agent instead of travel.com.au for only $40 more, in order to get some service, and that I really quite like the market over services like greengrocer.com.au
still, it would be much harder to research places to stay in New York and rental houses without the lovely Web.
have I mentioned we have to move out so building can start? it's more like a four-week deadline now, which is positively relaxing after that two-week scare.
my work computer can play CDs!
all this time I've been drowning out annoying work noises with annoying radio noises and online sites that crash my browser, when I could have been typing away to the sweet grooves of The Whitlams or some nice non-distracting instrumental thing.
another blow for offlineness to add to the fact that I've decided to buy my air ticket from a real travel agent instead of travel.com.au for only $40 more, in order to get some service, and that I really quite like the market over services like greengrocer.com.au
still, it would be much harder to research places to stay in New York and rental houses without the lovely Web.
have I mentioned we have to move out so building can start? it's more like a four-week deadline now, which is positively relaxing after that two-week scare.
Tuesday, May 28, 2002
if anyone out there has an opinion on the Bowery Whitehouse hotel, do let me know before I give them my money.
Sugar Hill hostel was good last time, but I'd kind of like a private room. and being in Harlem has both upsides and downsides.
Sugar Hill hostel was good last time, but I'd kind of like a private room. and being in Harlem has both upsides and downsides.
Monday, May 27, 2002
and my coming across this site on keeping your teenage children "pure" straight afterwards is a complete coincidence.
don't ask how I found this: a site in praise of spanking, paddling and flogging. I think they're serious.
even on your birthday, a sock crisis can strike. and a sock crisis can literally colour your whole day - lack of black socks means red socks means red shirt, and I didn't want to wear a red shirt because I want to wear the purple leather jacket Andrew bought me in Dublin.
apart from that, 36 is going OK, so far.
my dreams last night incorporated black and white photos of myself as a child, and my Dad trying to do too many things at once, while I warned him that he should concentrate on one thing at a time. which is nothing to do with my father, you understand. when I woke up (to the really loud radio news, too early - I may have the day off but Andrew didn't), the names of people - children - I went to school with were in my head. and not the ones I was friends with. random smelly boys and shy or snobby girls whom I never really "got".
it's a lovely day. stretches, a bike ride, a big brushing of a squirming fluffy dog, and now I'm off to try to book my BlogCon trip.
apart from that, 36 is going OK, so far.
my dreams last night incorporated black and white photos of myself as a child, and my Dad trying to do too many things at once, while I warned him that he should concentrate on one thing at a time. which is nothing to do with my father, you understand. when I woke up (to the really loud radio news, too early - I may have the day off but Andrew didn't), the names of people - children - I went to school with were in my head. and not the ones I was friends with. random smelly boys and shy or snobby girls whom I never really "got".
it's a lovely day. stretches, a bike ride, a big brushing of a squirming fluffy dog, and now I'm off to try to book my BlogCon trip.
Sunday, May 26, 2002
my workplace is annoyingly noisy on Monday mornings; it makes it hard to get the gears grinding again.
so went looking for some blockout noise. I thought Virgin Radio might be funky. no. it was exactly like the sad baby-boomer talky-talky FM stations we have over here, but with a British accent.
you don't need a link. feel free to suggest a decent online station, though. Heavy is good, but it keeps crashing my browser.
so went looking for some blockout noise. I thought Virgin Radio might be funky. no. it was exactly like the sad baby-boomer talky-talky FM stations we have over here, but with a British accent.
you don't need a link. feel free to suggest a decent online station, though. Heavy is good, but it keeps crashing my browser.
Saturday, May 25, 2002
Friday: a day of funerals.
First thing in the morning - and by that I mean 5 am - I was up out of bed, or at least my body was, showering.
At 5.30 I was in the car, moving at a consistent 10 per cent above the relevant speed limit, heading north with my nephew in the passenger seat.
The first 1 1/2 hours were strange - there was a fog across the road and very few other cars on the highway, and I felt more like I'd been driving all night than that I'd just got out of bed.
By 8.00 we were driving through the valley around Myrtleford, a lowlands-of-the-high-country place that is probably actually heaven - fertile soil, a broad river, snowy mountains around it. At 8.30 we were in Myrtleford (300 ks from Melbourne) having coffee, and by 9.15 we'd discovered that the charge against my nephew (the result of a small teenage incident at the local pub) was in fact so minor that it had been dismissed automatically and we needn't have come at all.
D'OH!
Driving back, we found that every channel on the radio seemed to have been taken over by the funeral of Alec Campbell, probably the last Gallipoli soldier to die anywhere in the world. Eventually I found some doof-doof music somewhere and we made it home. That was 600 ks before lunch.
I had a cup of tea and a couple of bites of food, farewelled nephew, got back in the car and drove as fast as I could out into the hills, where I barely made it for the start of my husband's grandfather's funeral.
Pa - Herb to his mates - was almost 90 and died at home earlier this week. He was a lovely old thing, very kind and well-spoken and as an ex-engineer, awfully meticulous with everything. The church at Emerald, where he worshipped, was a lovely plainish white-painted weatherboard, and I stood next to an opaque window in a glow of sunlight through the service, squashed in beside Andrew.
The moment I'll remember is singing Psalm 68 - "Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven" - one that I knew from childhoold church going - with maybe 80-100 people behind me singing it too. It wasn't the words or the music that got me - it was Andrew's aunt putting her full opera-singer oomph into the notes, lifting the whole mass of sound up a level. I remember thinking what a lovely celebration that was of the gifts Pa had left behind, one of which was his kids, and in this case the voice that Andrew's aunt has (opera singer is not a metaphor - it's what she does for a living.)
So all that was as OK as it could be; then we drove into town for a meal (total ks about 700 by now) and in the City Link tunnel Big Brother took over my radio to warn me of delays ahead, which in my dazed state I found very freaky.
Now, Sunday morning, I am still tired out from it all. we had a wonderful meal with some good friends last night - they have the kind of home that makes your body drop its tension when you walk in the door. I'm trying to do some work, thinking of a bike ride, trying not to think of the where-will-we-live question (yesterday = checking out rental places) and staying warm. Winter is coming.
First thing in the morning - and by that I mean 5 am - I was up out of bed, or at least my body was, showering.
At 5.30 I was in the car, moving at a consistent 10 per cent above the relevant speed limit, heading north with my nephew in the passenger seat.
The first 1 1/2 hours were strange - there was a fog across the road and very few other cars on the highway, and I felt more like I'd been driving all night than that I'd just got out of bed.
By 8.00 we were driving through the valley around Myrtleford, a lowlands-of-the-high-country place that is probably actually heaven - fertile soil, a broad river, snowy mountains around it. At 8.30 we were in Myrtleford (300 ks from Melbourne) having coffee, and by 9.15 we'd discovered that the charge against my nephew (the result of a small teenage incident at the local pub) was in fact so minor that it had been dismissed automatically and we needn't have come at all.
D'OH!
Driving back, we found that every channel on the radio seemed to have been taken over by the funeral of Alec Campbell, probably the last Gallipoli soldier to die anywhere in the world. Eventually I found some doof-doof music somewhere and we made it home. That was 600 ks before lunch.
I had a cup of tea and a couple of bites of food, farewelled nephew, got back in the car and drove as fast as I could out into the hills, where I barely made it for the start of my husband's grandfather's funeral.
Pa - Herb to his mates - was almost 90 and died at home earlier this week. He was a lovely old thing, very kind and well-spoken and as an ex-engineer, awfully meticulous with everything. The church at Emerald, where he worshipped, was a lovely plainish white-painted weatherboard, and I stood next to an opaque window in a glow of sunlight through the service, squashed in beside Andrew.
The moment I'll remember is singing Psalm 68 - "Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven" - one that I knew from childhoold church going - with maybe 80-100 people behind me singing it too. It wasn't the words or the music that got me - it was Andrew's aunt putting her full opera-singer oomph into the notes, lifting the whole mass of sound up a level. I remember thinking what a lovely celebration that was of the gifts Pa had left behind, one of which was his kids, and in this case the voice that Andrew's aunt has (opera singer is not a metaphor - it's what she does for a living.)
So all that was as OK as it could be; then we drove into town for a meal (total ks about 700 by now) and in the City Link tunnel Big Brother took over my radio to warn me of delays ahead, which in my dazed state I found very freaky.
Now, Sunday morning, I am still tired out from it all. we had a wonderful meal with some good friends last night - they have the kind of home that makes your body drop its tension when you walk in the door. I'm trying to do some work, thinking of a bike ride, trying not to think of the where-will-we-live question (yesterday = checking out rental places) and staying warm. Winter is coming.
Wednesday, May 22, 2002
BlogOn
Call them online appreciation sites, even Web shrines, or perhaps fanzines; just don't use the g-word.
U2
Irish superband U2 has spawned a rash of fan sites; U2 Log is a good starting point, with links to the best of the rest, if you call a site where you can dress naked caricatures of band members the best.
The log itself is full of outrage against anyone who dares diss lead singer Bono, and updates on the smallest details of photo shoots and concerts around the world.
This blog's been going for almost two years, fuelled by the energies of three writers from three countries (Australia included), several contributors, and a generous interpretation of U2-ness in their selection of links.
So if you've ever wondered whether your biorhythms are compatible with Bono's, now's your chance to find out.
Aussie Music Fan
"I am Andrew Bowie. Excitement," reads the first post in this blog, run by - you guessed it - an Aussie music fan.
"This page is to be my soapbox for gig reviews, music rants and self gratification," 24-year-old Bowie goes on.
Mostly this takes the form of his writings about Melbourne shows, from sonicanimation at the Hi-Fi Bar to Gomez at the Palais.
But there's the odd left-fielder, like a link to a site proving that digital music can have visual images hidden in the sound files.
He even scores the odd e-mail interview with local acts, like Melbourne's Pre-Shrunk.
Bowie has his own band as well, with, of course, fans: "Big fleas have little fleas/Upon their back to bite 'em..."
Elenath
Is there anyone out there in blogland who hasn't taken sides on the Legolas/Aragorn debate?
If so, get thee to Elenath, where you'll read more than enough about their respective merits, not to mention the radical Elijah Wood theory held by an active minority. You'll also learn not to call him Legolas: it's "Orli" (for actor Orlando Bloom).
Elenath serves as a kind of chat room for its 18 or so female members, who download their day's news, with obligatory passing references to their chosen character.
These blogs come not singly, but in sets, or in blog parlance, cliques, also known as Web rings, which you can follow around the many, many Lord of the Rings fan sites on the Internet.
There's one ring Tolkien didn't think of.
Black: Women of colour who love n'sync
Fans of the boy band n'sync come in all colours and both genders, it seems, but if you're not female, of colour and properly obsessed, you can't blog here.
There are (at last count) 41 members of this blog, with eight main writers, all happily nattering away about the images on their own sites, where Justin's singing right now, who's off to Mexico and what they think of each other's fan fiction.
Side topics include why gym class sucks, barracking for the African-American contestants on the TV show Survivor and whether they agree with interracial relationships. But it's pretty much all about the boys in the band.
Call them online appreciation sites, even Web shrines, or perhaps fanzines; just don't use the g-word.
U2
Irish superband U2 has spawned a rash of fan sites; U2 Log is a good starting point, with links to the best of the rest, if you call a site where you can dress naked caricatures of band members the best.
The log itself is full of outrage against anyone who dares diss lead singer Bono, and updates on the smallest details of photo shoots and concerts around the world.
This blog's been going for almost two years, fuelled by the energies of three writers from three countries (Australia included), several contributors, and a generous interpretation of U2-ness in their selection of links.
So if you've ever wondered whether your biorhythms are compatible with Bono's, now's your chance to find out.
Aussie Music Fan
"I am Andrew Bowie. Excitement," reads the first post in this blog, run by - you guessed it - an Aussie music fan.
"This page is to be my soapbox for gig reviews, music rants and self gratification," 24-year-old Bowie goes on.
Mostly this takes the form of his writings about Melbourne shows, from sonicanimation at the Hi-Fi Bar to Gomez at the Palais.
But there's the odd left-fielder, like a link to a site proving that digital music can have visual images hidden in the sound files.
He even scores the odd e-mail interview with local acts, like Melbourne's Pre-Shrunk.
Bowie has his own band as well, with, of course, fans: "Big fleas have little fleas/Upon their back to bite 'em..."
Elenath
Is there anyone out there in blogland who hasn't taken sides on the Legolas/Aragorn debate?
If so, get thee to Elenath, where you'll read more than enough about their respective merits, not to mention the radical Elijah Wood theory held by an active minority. You'll also learn not to call him Legolas: it's "Orli" (for actor Orlando Bloom).
Elenath serves as a kind of chat room for its 18 or so female members, who download their day's news, with obligatory passing references to their chosen character.
These blogs come not singly, but in sets, or in blog parlance, cliques, also known as Web rings, which you can follow around the many, many Lord of the Rings fan sites on the Internet.
There's one ring Tolkien didn't think of.
Black: Women of colour who love n'sync
Fans of the boy band n'sync come in all colours and both genders, it seems, but if you're not female, of colour and properly obsessed, you can't blog here.
There are (at last count) 41 members of this blog, with eight main writers, all happily nattering away about the images on their own sites, where Justin's singing right now, who's off to Mexico and what they think of each other's fan fiction.
Side topics include why gym class sucks, barracking for the African-American contestants on the TV show Survivor and whether they agree with interracial relationships. But it's pretty much all about the boys in the band.
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