Bored of the dance...

I hate dancing more than I can possibly explain. I hate doing it myself, which I can’t anyway, but I loathe and resent the necessity to try. I hate watching other people do it. I hate the way it breaks up conversation. I hate the slovenly mixture of sexual exhibitionism, strutting contempt and repellent narcissism that it involves. I hate it when it is formless, meaningless bopping and I hate it (if anything even more) when it is formal and choreographed into genres like ballroom or schooled disco. Those cavortings are so embarrassing and dreadful as to force my hand to my mouth.

... and ...

I think less of no one for loving to dance. I am fully aware that, from the most polished society to the most, hem, savage, it is what humans do more than writing, ball games, praying, knitting, riding, singing even. They dance in the mornings they dance at nights, they dance in their trousers and they dance in their tights. The whole world dances. Except Stephen and a few others. So do believe this. I am not in any way, not in ANY WAY scornful of those who dance, I am merely describing my allergic response. I am allergic to champagne as it happens, and this has given me a very healthy and natural distaste for it. I could describe the loathing and fear I have of the drink, but it would in no way implicate champagne drinkers. So let it be with Terpsichore and her art. I am allergic to it, but I do not despise those who are not. I can’t go so far as to say that I envy them, but scorn and derision? Absolutely not. Just don’t ever look for me on the dance floor.

Stephen Fry - Bored of the Dance

Couldn't have said it better myself (except for the bit about champagne - I love champagne).

Representation

I have been eligible to vote since 1996. I find it interesting that for the very first time in my voting life, I will be represented at a national level by a government that I actually voted for. For the first time in my adult life I can safely say that the majority of my fellow Australians feel the same way that I do on the issues that matter to me.

I have spent 11 years in the wilderness, out of touch with society. It's nice to be back :)

Chicks really do dig pink

At least, according to this article on The Economist (Sex, shopping and thinking pink).

Puts those brochures below into perspective I guess.

Boys versus Girls

Two identical pieces of advertising copy. One of these was addressed to me and one of these was addressed to my wife. Guess which one is which?

Merlin Mann: Inbox Zero

Merlin Mann is one of my favourite people I have never met but know a lot about. He's a productivity guru who is the creator of the productivity site 43 Folders and is also my favourite regular contributor to the MacBreak Weekly podcast (I don't own a Mac, but want to).

Recently Merlin gave a presentation as part of Google's regular Tech Talks series on one of his favourites - Inbox Zero. Inbox Zero is about how to efficiently process large volumes of email to keep things under control and your own sanity in check. Inbox Zero borrows heavily (and unashamedly) from David Allen's Getting Things Done process.

If you find you're buried under email and other things and you have a spare hour, it might be worth your while to check this out. It's really interesting.

The Communist Party

My wife bought me a bunch of t-shirts from Threadless [1].

Here's the first one, "The Communist Party", in hoodie form.

[1] Disclaimer: that's a Street Team link, meaning if you buy anything after following the link, I get credit towards more t-shirts. And I really want more Threadless t-shirts.

Timekeeper

For the first time in over a year, I have started wearing a watch again.

I got tired of using my mobile phone as a surrogate watch, which isn't a useful solution in situations where my phone is switched off (which happens more often than I first thought it would).

I own three watches and up until yesterday morning, all three of them needed new batteries. Now only two need new batteries (they also need new watchbands, but one step at a time). I didn't have to spend any time at all deciding which watch I was going to resurrect first. The watch above was given to me on my 21st birthday by a group of my university friends so it has great sentimental value to me.

After all this time, wearing a watch feels weird. I'm still not used to the extra weight on my wrist or the scraping noise it makes when it hits the desk while I'm typing. I have lost a bit of weight since I last wore it so it is still a bit loose on my arm. I am sure I will adapt.

Life how it used to be lived. The return of Main St?

I used to love the idea of urban sprawl with everyone having their own slice of land. These days, I wish there was more urban infill. I feel like so much community is missing in my personal interactions and I wish I could create opportunity for me.



Superkul is a Canadian architectural firm that turned a run down residence and returned it to its original shopfront/residence glory and added a third floor into the bargain. There are some great pictures of the setup on Treehugger.

Bring it on, I say. Main Streets rock.

One of these ones is not like the others

I spotted this ad in this morning's Canberra Times newspaper. I just had to laugh..

It's a bit difficult to read but it says:

• In store signing with Australian adult movie stars
  
• Pole dancing and lingerie shows
  
• Penthouse and Hustler showbags worth $120 for only $25
  
• 24 booth adult movie arcade
  
• Sausage sizzle
  

And we join together today ...

One of my friends recently announced his engagement, which is good and exciting news which makes both me and my wife quite happy to hear.

If you're reading this, Dave, I reckon you need a pair of these for the wedding...

8 prong connector originally uploaded to Flickr by janabrevick.

Counting with fingers

Apparently, boys with the longest ring fingers relative to their index fingers tend to excel in maths, at least according to Science.

Not sure what this says about my hand, but I did fail Maths in Grade 12. My ring finger looks pretty long to me. I can't say I'm convinced...

Found via /. [permalink]

Quick! Or the bunny gets it!

Fred's about to experience some serious problems. You've got 60 seconds to perform life-saving surgery.

Your time starts.....NOW!

http://www.10mg.nl/ (requires Flash)

Found via Boing Boing [permalink]

What I did on a sunny Sunday morning

This morning was some of the most beautiful, glorious hammock weather I have seen in Canberra in months. It could possibly be the last such day until the end of winter (some time in September!).

How did I spend such a magnificent morning?

Reading this. Inside at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, pencil in the other.



12 job applications for some positions within my Division at work. I got sucked in to being on the selection panel because I didn't have any good reason to say no (much like jury duty, I guess). I gave my manager the opportunity to pull me out of this by saying that I could only do it pending his approval.

His response? "I guess we all have to be good citizens and do our corporate duty" (once again, much like jury duty).

Go corporate citizenry. Woo.

Simple can be best...

This site just made me smile the whole way through (it doesn't take long).

Found via Signal vs. Noise [permalink]

Addicted to glove..

One of my favourite pastimes is interchanging the words "love" and "glove", particularly in relation to pop songs. It's fun. You know you want to try it...

This headline really made my day on Saturday.

Ouch. It hurts.

Yesterday I managed to jam a sharp piece of plastic deep under my left thumb nail. This morning it hurt so much I had to battle to do the buttons on my shirt up using only one (some how, and I'm not sure how, I seem to use my left thumb quite heavily in the button-doing-up process, which doesn't make much sense when I think about but there you are).

I have now developed a deeper appreciation for using slivers of bamboo under the fingernails for "information gathering". It really hurts and leaves behind very little splatter to clean off the walls.

Starry Starry Bamboo Mandala Originally uploaded by brainsik. Used under a Creative Commons license.

So it is true after all

Germinating apple seed_1
Originally uploaded by smperris.

Ever since I was told as a little kid that if I ate an apple core, an apple tree would grow inside of me, I've eaten the cores of green apples (the cores of red apples are black on the inside - taste fine but look ick).

Yesterday, while I was munching away on a tasty granny smith apple, I happened to see this little seed.

I didn't eat it. Perhaps I should have. A tree in me would have been pretty cool.

If you say so.

The brand? Holeproof.

Trim the sails, the wind has gone...

Ever had an idea, kicked it around with a friend for a while, decided it was worth chasing and discover someone else has already had it?

It can be, well, somewhat deflating.

That's cool. Life is full of good ideas. Maybe the next one...

(No, I'm not sharing the idea, but rest assured it was a cool one. There may still be hope in another form. One day.)

Edit: btw, post 1oo! Wow, has that taken a long time.

Tip? I’ll give you a tip…

I don’t think anyone would argue that airports operate within a financial system that is a universe unto itself. It is probably only a matter of time before they start charging people for the air that they breathe inside the terminal (and I shudder to think what sort of margin they would be adding on top of that as well).

At the end of our recent holiday, we found ourselves in the departure lounge with a little bit of time to kill. The Boy needed to be breastfed and my wife was really thirsty (breastfeeding will do that to you). Since I had forgotten to fill up a water bottle and pack it in our carry-on luggage, it fell upon my shoulders to find a suitable replacement.

It was not long until our scheduled boarding time so I needed to find somewhere close with quick service. Casting my eye about, I chose a nearby store. Now, I use the word “store” in a not so much loose as liquid sense. The facility was a large bank of open-fronted refrigeration units where you perused and selected your chosen product, and one small check-out manned by a bored looking assistant.

After choosing a 750ml bottle of water, I was stunned to discover that the going rate in this dislocated economy was $4, more than twice what I would pay for this product in most supermarkets. However, as it was my fault we had to buy anything in the airport anyway, I gritted my teeth, took my karmic lumps with internal good humour and fished out the coins to pay. It was while I was paying for the bottle that I encountered something that really made me question just what it is that gets put into the water supply.

Prominently placed on the counter was a bowl with some coins, adorned with a sign communicating one simple word that is still burned into my occipital lobe – TIPS (and yes, it was in all caps, too). The rage seethed and bubbled deep within as part of my brain transmitted with full power over the entire telepathic spectrum with quiet fury: Not only did I select the bottle and physically transport it myself to the front counter and then pay well over twice what it is worth, but YOU WANT A FREAKING TIP? FOR WHAT? THE “SERVICE”?

Of course, making a scene is not my thing (deep down inside I’m just a spineless coward, like all the other sheeple) so I just quietly sighed (well, maybe not that quietly) when I found out that water now costs $4 and walked away.

You know what baffles me more than anything else? There were coins in the bowl. Either the proprietors of the kiosk have such a low opinion of people that they think that by chucking a few coins in a bowl, peer pressure will out and people will tip if they think the person in front of them in line did, OR, people actually have felt obliged to tip the staff in thanks for being gouged in an extraordinarily lazy manner (points for style, I guess).

I’m not sure which one is worse…