Kapitano

The Big Day

There's a familiar pattern, which cognitive psychologists know all about.

1) Decide to do something.
2) Make some preparations.
3) Realise it's a terrible idea.
4) Feel compelled to go through with it anyway.
5) Convince yourself it's a good idea, somehow.
6) Do the thing.
7) Realise again it really was a terrible idea.
8) Convince yourself it was a success after all, or if you can't do that,
8a) Blame someone.

It works on an individual level, but also with families, workplaces, and entire nations. The royal wedding gave us lots of examples.

Nationally, it looked like this:

1) The world's in recession, our mid-eastern allies are all being topped, and everyone hates the government - what we need is a big state occasion. Something sentimental, nationalistic and happy - something shiny to distract the little people. How about a royal marriage? It worked last time.

2) Find a royal with a girlfriend, and persuade them to get hitched. Announce it, and wait for the nation to rejoice.

3) Realise the public don't much care. They're not even using it as an excuse for a street party.

4) Hide your annoyance at the plebs.

5) Get the independent, objective media to push the wedding hard. Solid coverage for a month. Hopefully, a few weeks of being told everyone's ecstatic about the wedding will persuade everyone they are ecstatic. Waive the rules on organising street parties, hoping it'll motivate people to have them.

6) Have the wedding. Make it look really plush and don't mention the cost - or that anything else is happening in the world. Find a dozen crazy people who camped out in London to see the procession, and interview them incessantly as vox pops.

7) Grit your teeth to make the best of a bad deal.

8) Continue the blanket coverage, now in retrospect. And/or,

8a) Blame the politically correct student radical types for spoiling it for everyone else.

Here's how it affected my life:

1) My street has an annual party - with barbecue, raffle, and a few dozen people trying to remember each other's names from the previous party. The organising committee - chaired by my esteemed father - were thinking of not bothering this year. But seeing as there was an excuse this time, they decided to go ahead.

2) Put invitations through all the letterboxes. Dig out the home made wine.

3) Note the growing list of names who had other things to do on that day - including two who'd been asked to unblock a relative's drains that day.

4) Decide it's more trouble to cancel than to press on. Don't explain how.

5) Get some cheap plastic flags and patriotically decorated paper cups - just to make it royal themed.

6) On the day, turn up, eat too much, drink too much, and make light conversation with virtual strangers.

7) Take home most of the food and have it for your evening meal.

8) Say things like "That went as well as could be expected" and "At least it didn't rain".

And so, on the occasion of whatshisface marrying whatshername, here's a picture summarising everything it meant to me:

Computers are good at repetitive, mindless tasks. The kind that require great precision and patience but no imagination or choices. Exactly the kind which humans are no good at, and make working life unbearable.

Half the point of technology is to do away with that kind of drudgery. The other half is to help us do the things we did beforehand, but faster, better, or just more.

All of which is a bit odd really, because most of the things we do sitting at a computer are repetitive, mindless tasks that require great precision and patience but no imagination or choices.

The tedium of adding up a column of figures with a pencil has been replaced with the tedium of typing in a much longer column of figures, which are magically totted up by the spreadsheet.

If only there were some program which could watch you do some thankless task on another program, once, then do the same thing, much quicker and without errors for a thousand iterations, while you go and do something interesting. Probably on another computer.

Well, there are such programs. And while they can't transcribe your handwritten notes or turn them into the polished prose of the novel you're trying to write¹, they can record your keyboard and mouse actions, help you fine tune them, and play them back in a loop.

The one I use at the moment is called Axife Mouse Recorder, and it's free demo. I can't register it to get the full version because...the company I'd register with is long bankrupt. But it's still one of the most popular programs of its kind because, frankly, it's very good and most of the competition² is rubbish.

There are a few good alternatives though. vTask is much more configurable, and its free little brother TinyTask (also in portable version) is great for quick-and-dirty task automation³.

I'm going to be looking at the Jitbit Macro Recorder, to see if its longer feature list and user friendliness are enough to make me switch from my trusty but crippled Axife demo.

Jitbit, incidentally, have an innovative marketing strategy, whereby if someone with a blog reviews their program, the blogger gets a free personal-use licence for it. Good idea isn't it?

Now, I'm working on a project at the moment where I've got 466 text files containing numbers describing the shape of different sound waves. Each wave has 1778 points, and I need to open each file in turn, transcribe every point into another program, then save the result, and move onto the next file.

I've recorded a script in the Axife program, and the first screenful looks like this:

Now here's the same series of operations, recorded in JitBit Macro Recorder:

Both programs can record mouse movements, mouse clicks and keyboard activity, but for both I've recorded only the latter two. In effect, the mouse pointer will jump instantly to wherever it's needed, and any actions like selecting text, copying and pasting are done with the keyboard.

I've also edited the scripts so the delays between keypresses are much shorter than humanly possible - though I need to introduce delays occasionally for things like filesaving, so the computer can keep up.

Removing (or not recording) mouse movements and minimising delays means one wave takes about six minutes to transcribe - and all 466 should take about 40 hours.

At a rough calculation, it would take me about 1000 hours, working nonstop to do the same thing the old fashioned way. That's not just a bigger task - without automation I wouldn't even consider trying.

The other thing to notice is: I've put loops in the scripts. The most important one is a single copy-and-paste from a line in Windows Notepad to a corresponding point in Propellerhead Reason, looped 1778 times⁴.

So, what are the things I prefer about Axife, what do I think is better in Jitbit...and what's missing (so far) from both?

The Axife display is neater, more compact, better thought out. The delays don't take up a whole line, and the mouse click details easier to interpret as a gestalt.

The basic script editing facilities are the same between the two - move, cut, copy, paste, change event type and change co-ordinates. But Jitbit has a load of extra things you can do.

You can open and copy files directly, switch between windows and wait for them to close before moving to the next event - though unfortunately it doesn't seem to work with DOS windows, so you can't run a series of batch files in a row.

You can launch websites, play macros within macros, pause to ask for user input and perform various clipboard operations. All things I wouldn't use often, but it's good to have them.

But here's the big one. Your macro is no longer limited to doing the same thing over and over again - it can branch. It can make decisions - if a file exists, if the clipboard contains certain text, if a process exists or a window's in focus, if the user inputs this string but not that string....

You've actually got a simple programming language, which means you've got the option of a complex, context sensitive macro. With some ingenuity, you can even make it pick up on whether something's gone wrong - so it'll exit instead of trying to copy from the same non-existent window until you stop it.

There's other things too. If the button you want to click has moved, there's a 'Smart-Rec' feature to find it. You can put labels and comments in your script - useful because all but the simplest get very confusing.

Which leads me to thoughts of what could be better. When you look at a raw, newly recorded script, it can be baffling - even though you've just done the operations which it shows. Does this mouseclick refer to this window or that one? Is that click a window focus or a data selection? Is that copy operation the one for the third block of data, or the filename? Is this where the loop should end?

It would be much easier if I could press a hotkey while recording, type in a label to describe what I'm about to do, then press the key again, and continue⁵. A kind of writing notes in the margin to yourself, for when you come to the editing.

Some macro recorders have little to recommend them except the ability to do arithmetical operations on data before pasting it. Strangely, Jitbit can't do that, so I'm left pasting data into Windows Calculator or Excel, then copying the result. On this point the similar vTask pulls ahead in the race.

Finally, it would be a lot neater to have the option to display common keypress sequences as operations. Instead of four lines showing 'Hold CTRL', 'Hold X', 'Release X' and 'Release CTRL', just have a line showing "Cut". Even reducing 'Hold Enter' + 'Release Enter' as 'Enter' would help readability and reduce clutter.

In principle, you could make your own shortcuts like these with the 'Goto' or 'Play Macro' commands, but I'm looking to make macros quickly, not spend hours on workarounds to make them tidier.

So, have I been persuaded by Jitbit's Macro Recorder? I think I will use it, but not exclusively. TinyTask is still good for taking a few seconds to make basic macros, Axife occupies the middle ground, and if I'm working on a complicated procedure involving several different programs in sequence (my personal record, by the way, is seven) then Jitbit's Macro Recorder will be invaluable.

¹ At least, not until laptops come fitted with robot arms for turning pages and moving webcams around. If they ever do, your computer will be able to read you bedtime stories from a real book.

² It's a crowded market. A quick google search gives the high end products like Ranorax Recorder and WinAutomation, plus dozens of basic free or shareware ones like Mouse Recorder, Advanced Key And Mouse Recorder, and Mouse Recorder Pro, and autoclickerextreme - which probably wins the prize of Most Ambiguously Suggestive Name.

³ I've got an old tower PC with an even older video capture card, plugged into Film 4 on an old Freeview box - recording...old films. I tried for a week to get the PVR software to work properly - now I've got ShutDownExpert running two EXE mouse control scripts - one to activate VirtualDub to start recording, the other to stop it. It's clunky, but unlike the software designed for the task, it works.

⁴ The screenshots for this review were converted to JPG using photoshop...automated in Jitbit's program. While I poured another cup of tea.

⁵ I don't know of any programs which do this, but it would seriously help the editing process.

Nox

I don't believe dreams mean anything - except in the general way they reflect your attitudes and life experiences. They're just a grab bag of half formed ideas and feelings floating around in your memory, loosely tied into a sequence of events.

A kind of screensaver for when your operating system is in standby mode. Put it another way. Dreams can have significance, but not signification.

In the dream I was in some sort of institution, with Dickensian architecture but modern (though underfunded) facilities - it provided care for children who'd been abandoned or abused. I didn't work there and I wasn't a child but everyone who worked there knew me.

There were two young children, both boys, age about 9 to 11. I somehow took to caring for them - essentially babysitting. But it was night time, and the rooms, stairs and corridors of the institution were dark, so I couldn't seem them very well.

And because I couldn't see them, I couldn't be sure they really were human children. I spoke with them and we conversed, I did what I could to make them safe and comfortable. I carried them around from room to room, even carrying one to the top floor for a medical checkup. The doctors there knew me and greeted me as they went about their rounds, appreciating that I'd taken the trouble.

But in the dim light and silhouette, one of the boys looked like...it looked like I was carrying around a stack of old, heavily bound books. And the other...looked like he might be a small hairy animal, possibly a dog, or a chimpanzee.

They both spoke like children, and that's how I treated them. I loved them, and cried when I thought we might be separated and maybe they come to harm. I was always carrying one in one arm, and holding the hand of the other as we walked - sometimes swapping. We hugged closely as we moved around the rooms and stairs.

I'm not sure whether they had names, but the emotional connection was intense - full of concern and, well, love.

Then daylight came, and I could see clearly. Both were what I'd thought and hoped - normal, healthy, happy children. The 'dog' boy was absorbed playing alone on a pile of beanbags. The 'books' boy was chatting and relaxed with three friends his own age. I spoke with him, but it was now awkward, because the night had passed and he didn't need my help anymore.

They didn't want to hug, or be carried around, or even talk. They had no trouble letting go of their dependence on me, and though I was relieved that I could now see they really were what I wasn't sure I'd been taking care of...I didn't want to let go of them.

And that's when I woke up.

No, dreams don't mean anything. And to prove it, when I went back to sleep, trying to continue the dream, I was now an invisible observer, watching a frustrated investigation into some kind of bureaucratic coverup which involved 'losing' the boy's records.

Oh, and the investigator was...Captain Jean Luc Picard. Bald, starfleet suited, and with a nice line in righteous speeches. The bureaucracy offices were all futuristic rounded white cubes and the data storage computer looked like a giant metal cactus.

I'm quite sure none of that meant anything.

Less than 100

Some films are more praised than enjoyed - think Citizen Kane, The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, and probably everything by Charlie Chaplin.

Others are more referenced than watched - The Thomas Crown Affair, Tron, possibly Dr No...and The Human Centipede.

Full title The Human Centipede: The First Sequence, it's the first in a projected trilogy of escalatingly gory films united around one idea: Mad scientists kidnap young innocents to surgically attach them mouth-to-anus in series. In other words, it's about being forced to shit in each other's mouths.

Now I've finally watched it...and I'm not sure what to make of it.

The plot is fairly straightforward. Two American valley-girls (Lindsay and Jenny) are touring Europe when their car breaks down in the middle of a creepy forest in the rain at midnight. So as is traditional, they go searching for an isolated house with a telephone.

The house is owned by a wealthy retired surgeon (Josef Heiter) who specialised in separating conjoined twins - but now has the opposite surgery in mind. He rohypnols the girls, euthanises a previously kidnapped trucker because his 'tissue is incompatible' with theirs, and goes out to kidnap another tourist (Katsuro).

Lindsay makes a failed escape attempt, prompting Heiter to decide she should be the middle section. The youngsters wake to find the surgery completed, and a leering Heiter.

The good doctor tries to housetrain his new pet, which he obviously intends to replace and upgrade his previous experiment - his beloved deceased 'three dog' - but he's constantly frustrated.

Katsuro the front section is furious and violent, the two girls keep Heiter awake all night with their crying, and Jenny at the back starts to die from blood poisoning. Then the police arrive asking questions, and after he tries and fails to rohypnol them, they return with warrant and guns.

As if Heiter's plans couldn't fall apart anymore, the centipede escapes and incapacitates him. There's a standoff, but Katsuro decides this is his punishment for the dishonourable way he's treated his family, and he cuts his own throat. Then Jenny dies, leaving Lindsay trapped in the middle between two corpses.

The police return, and Heiter kills them but not before one of them fatally shoots him. The End. Lindsay will presumably be found by more police later.

So what kind of film is this? A low budget horror flick that trades on a squicky premise and suggestion much more than gore - certainly. A wannabe cult classic - probably. A dark comedy - given the way Heiter is constantly frustrated by his creation and events, arguably.

Director Tom Six says it's a comment on fascism and the second world war - with the nationalities, language barrier, and of course pointless Nazi experiments. That makes sense, but it's not terribly deep.

The Human Centipede is actually a very silly film. The touted '100% medical accuracy' is bunk, the plot isn't nearly as much as a breakaway from tired horror cliches as the director likes to claim, as satire I think it's shallow and as horror it's neither disgusting nor disquieting.

David Cronenberg created much more unease in Shivers with a less obviously revolting premise, and if you like politics with your horror, Clive Barker probably does it better.

There were a few ideas I found interesting about the movie, though.

Most mad scientists in movies have some psychological reason for their actions, even if it's just curiosity. But Heiter has no motive that adds up. If he just wants a new three-dog, why doesn't he get more dogs? If he's just a sadist, why is he indifferent to death and irritated by signs of suffering? If the centipede is a proof-of-concept project, what does he hope to develop it into - besides the equally pointless twelve-person centipede promised in the (now completed) second film?

It's been called torture porn, but there's a difference. 24 was torture porn, as were the Saw movies, but in these cases we're supposed to root for the torturer - which is one reason they're so worthless. Here the sympathy is all with the victims, and their fightback.

The film's effective lead is Katsuro - he's the only main character to consistently fight against Heiter, and he's the only one to get a big speech. But he's introduced late and dies early. Plus, he speaks only Japanese - while the girls speak only English and Heiter English and German.

When the centipede escapes, Katsuro stabs Heiter in the leg with a scalpel, meaning Heiter is rendered unable to walk, only crawl - just like his creation. He's now a monopede.

The girl's only shows of affection come when they're holding hands in tearful comfort after the joining.

Katsuro may have the mouth (in the sense of both shouting defiance and eating) but Lindsay has the brain of the composite creature. In the escape, it's mostly her who has the ideas, which she communicates by pointing. There's an obvious parable about communication and co-operation there if you want it.

So that's what I think is the kind of movie this is. A loose collection of interesting ideas and nice filmic touches, held together by nothing more than...being stitched together in a row.

In the Midcourse of Our Life

I'm sorry, I seem to be having a midlife crisis. The kind with faintly nonsensical but obsessive regrets, that could lead to tedious rambling blogposts if I let it.

I'll try to shake off the emodaddy thing, but in the meantime, here's some music - from my latest synthpop squeeze, Foretaste:

Not Happy, Not Clappy

After a fortnight of feeling more rubbish than usual, a week of painful peeing, two hours in a hospital waiting room, and half an hour of tests, I now know two things.

The good news: I almost certainly do not have a venereal disease.
The bad news: I almost do certainly have diabetes - and may have had it for years.

Okay, not all the tests are back yet, but it fits. Age, family history on both sides, weird patterns of lethargy and hunger, results of the urine-sugar test and the, uh, opportunistic infection which is currently smothered in anti-fungal cream.

I'll know more in a few days, but it looks like my attempts at a sensible, healthy diet are set to become a little more urgent.

Oh, and if you see me turning into one of those bloggers who write about their own health problems for the pleasure of people with the same condition, tell me, so I can shoot myself instead.

I See Fields of Dream

MJ asked that I review The Best of WC Fields. Considering that it was the one I wanted to see least - including the option I forgot, The X-Files: I Want to Believe - I'm treating it as a history homework assignment.

There's three films coming in total to less than an hour and, well....

The Golf Specialist

A manipulative cheating wife goes golfing with a rich-looking older man (Fields), while her thuggish and (justifiably) suspicious husband looks for her. You can predict the rest of the plot already can't you?

Except that isn't what happens. Instead, we get fifteen minutes of Fields trying to play a shot, while his dimwitted caddy persistently distracts him with increasingly surreal noises.

Then the police arrive and arrest the golfer. The End.

Oh, other things do happen. A manipulative little girl with a voice like an air raid siren with adenoids fails to get 'charity' money out of him. The hotel desk clerk is probably gay, and there's a rolling contortionist.

But none of it amounts to a story - just a loose bundle of set-piece jokes. Which is...fine. I liked the police's list of crimes:

The Dentist

This is a sketch set in a dentist's practice, right? An incompetent dentist gets high on his own laughing gas, or a patient tries to do the surgery himself while the dentist's back is turned, or there's a stream of bizarre patients.

Um, no. Because this is a golf-playing dentist, and when he's not doing it, he's talking about it at work. There may be a theme to this 'best of' collection.

Eventually, a woman with toothache arrives at the surgery.

We get the obligatory racist joke - "I don't believe in doctors. The doctor down the street treated a man for nine years for yellow jaundice, then found out he was a Jap." - followed immediately by one which, anachronism aside, has a surprisingly modern form:

Dentist: Can I use gas?
Patient: Well, gas or electric lights.

A man in the waiting room overhears the woman's cries of nervousness, plus an industrial drill outside, puts two and two together, and decides he doesn't need treatment that badly.

Fields drills a second woman's tooth with sawing, grinding, howling sound effects...and is interrupted by his daughter who wants to marry. He locks her in an upstairs room, and her angry stamping on the floor makes the surgery ceiling start to fall in.

Fields asks his patient "Have you ever had this tooth pulled before?", and proceeds to pull...and pull.

A man with a beard provides the challenge of locating his mouth...then we rush outside and we get a rather sudden romantic ending.

The Pharmacist

Fields won't let his daughter eat at the table because she chews gum...so she eats the canary and coughs up feathers. Oh...kay.

A customer shows how some political categories haven't changed:

Fields: Can I interest you in a stamp?
Customer: Yeah gimme a stamp.
Fields fumbles with the stamps.
Customer: No, give me a purple one.
Fields: I'm sorry we don't have any purple ones. I could paint one for you?
Customer: I don't want a painted one. A person hasn't got any rights in this country any more. The government even tells you what colour stamps you've got to buy. That's the Democratic party for you.
Fields: I've written to Washington about it?
Customer: What do you want to write to Washington for? he's dead.

The customer buys a single stamp and wants to pay with a hundred dollar bill. He gets the stamp on credit...and a free ming vase with every purchase.

The mob and the police start shooting at each other, and hiding under the counter as his stock is destroyed by bullets, Fields takes a phone call complaint about the late delivery of some cough drops. The End.

I think WC Fields works best if you treat him as the nominal protagonist of a feverish dream. Just let it wash over you. You could try watching his films while stoned - it won't make them seem like there's a coherent plot, but it won't matter that there isn't.

Most of the jokes are based on repetition and/or people misunderstanding what's going on. Just occasionally, it even made me laugh.

Krapitano

I feel like crap.

I've got one of those low-grade persistent illnesses, my latest employment prospect just went down the U-Bend when the employer turned out to be full of crap, there's crap on TV and I just turned down an offer of oral sex because, the way I'm feeling, my contribution would be a bit crap.

So what can I do but sit and watch a crappy movie while munching on crappy junk food? Ah, but which movie? This is where you come in. I've got five films to chose from, and I'm asking you to chose one of them for me to watch...and review for you in my next post.

Here's the crapfest:

* Anatomy of a Psycho - A film I know absolutely nothing about, except that someone thought it worth putting on youtube, together with classic crap like Robinson Crusoe on Mars and The Brother from Another Planet

* Fight Club - Crap about bullshit-masculinity in bullshit-crisis.

* The Evil Dead - I thought this was a satire on how empty and crap our lives are, as shown by the zombies in the shopping mall. But apparently that was a different zombie flick.

* The Human Centipede - A film which is basically about...living on with other people's crap.

* The Best of WC Fields - A crapilation of short Crap-and-White comedy films.

Over to you, my gentle readers. Choose my crap.

(I've just got to, uh, visit the bathroom first.)

In No Sense? Nonsense!

Some time in (I think) 1980, Phil Collins had some chords and a drum pattern, but no vocals to go over them. So he played the first chord on a piano and sang the first thing that came into his head: "I can feel it coming in the air tonight".

It didn't mean anything at the time, but was a springboard for suggesting other lyrics, and even made it into the finished song. People are still getting married to it today, which show you how little attention usually gets paid to song lyrics - it's about a failed relationship.

Still, people are getting married to "Every Breath You Take", which is about a stalker, and to "Moments in Love" which...I don't think is about anything at all.

Phil Collins has now officially retired to be a father, Sting was last heard being atrociously sampled by P Diddy, and I've seen Anne Dudley conduct a full orchestra in the ambient classic she wrote 25 years earlier. And I still don't like writing lyrics.

Sometimes it's a matter of finding a singable melody and trying to forcefit an intelligent sentiment into it. And sometimes it's a matter of having a page of notes and trying to find a melody to fit them into. Annie Lennox uses the latter method, and the Black Eyed Peas use the former, though they don't bother with the intelligence part.

But a lot of songs I listen to are in languages I don't understand. And this one gave me an idea to avoid spending a day banging my head against sentences till they fit a rhythm. It's in German, und Ich spreche nur Deutsch genug zu Kraftwerk Worte verstehen.

So instead I've spent a day writing a program (which I'll post as a comment) to make random sort-of-german words, sorted by syllable count. My not-language is called Doitschish because it's Deutsch...ish.

Here's a selection from the first run:

Words with eins syllable: Ech, Prif, Zo, Push, Az,

Zwei: Avach, Drazeis, Eshon, Auba, Roshta

Drei: Kluzutchai, Undentach, Aukodi

Veir: Reshkotchinteul, Akaupoiplen

Fünf: Jekauveulueusctitsch, Vandunginushez

I think they look quite...smart and efficient. There's a much simpler Polynesian alternative, and (who knows?) maybe an English version in the pipeline.

So now I can avoid worrying about meaning at all, and one more form of writers block is circumvented. Just don't ask me to try rapping in it.

It's Not What You Think

At college I struck up a friendship with a fellow eccentric. One afternoon we skipped classes and went on long, long rambling walk - with lots of philosophical chatter and the promise of a cup of tea at the end.

After about two hours, the last twenty minutes on a winding maze of side streets, we came to a block of flats. We went in through the gate, walked to a door...and stood for ten seconds staring wordlessly at each other.

Eventually he said, "What's the matter? Have you forgotten your key?"

I blinked. "What? Why should I have a key?"

"This is where you live isn't it?"

"Um, no. I thought it was where you lived."

"So...why did you come here?"

"I was following you."

"But I was following you."

"Oh. Where are we?"

"I don't know."

A year ago I knew someone in the same line of work as myself - ESL/EFL teacher. Like most TEFLers, he into travel, cheap living, red wine and cannabis resin. Laid back, bohemian, and not terribly knowledgeable about his subject.

And also, like a lot of TEFLers, a bit vague on which countries he'd taught in at what time, and completely unreliable in getting me information he'd promised on golden job opportunities.

He went away suddenly, having found a last minute vacancy - as often happens - in Barcelona. After less than a month he phoned a mutual friend in a panic, saying he'd been mugged in the street and all his money taken - and he didn't like to ask, but could our friend lend a hundred pounds into his bank account, which he'd pay back in a week when he got paid. This our friend did.

After two weeks, there was no sign of repayment and no contact. And he wasn't answering his phone - though that wasn't exactly unusual.

Then another mutual acquaintance spilled the beans. He hadn't been mugged, hadn't lost his money, probably wasn't even in Barcelona...but was rather into harder drugs, enough to tell lies to get the money for them.

Losing a dozen friends for a hit or two obviously didn't bother him. At least, not as much as missing the hits would have.

I slightly knew a lady who worked as a freelance cleaner. I also knew a man whose house was a mess - which he was vainly trying to clear, some time after the death of his wife.

So I suggested that he give the lady a wad of cash to do the work, because he had money but no time, and she was short of work. He thought it was an excellent idea, and soon all the rubbish was thrown away and all the books and papers were in neat piles.

Today I discovered something. When she said she was a freelance cleaner, she'd actually said 'carer' and I'd obviously been wearing my cloth ears that day. She says she utterly, utterly despises housework, and only did it out of sympathy because the mess was obviously the result of grief over his wife.

Except I'd known the couple for several years...and the house had always been a tip.

Oops.

Um. Sorry.

Bash Wednesday

A combination of mild illness, mild depression, mild lack of focus and mild not-having-much-to-blog-about...means I haven't had much to say for a week.

So NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) joins NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and FebAlWriMo (February Album Writing Month - FAWM) on the list of month-long creativity-based projects with impenetrably abbreviated names that I'm just not very good at. There's also NaSoAlMo (National Solo Album Month) to be added to the list in November.

I have to say I'm not too impressed with the NaBloPoMo community - seeing as there doesn't seem to be one. But if I want to read faux-introspective poems about having a personal relationship with Jesus, I now know where to go.

Anyway, I'll copy my NaBloPoMo posts here and backdate them...and continue trying to bash ideas together until they turn into pop songs.

Just as soon as I find the right settings for generating snare drums from high-pass filtered two-level white noise. And iron out the bugs in the algorithm for germaically morphophonemic nonsense lyrics.

Yes, there's three things I'm very good at:

* Obscure technical projects
* Starting stuff
* Promising to do things
* Being distracted

(Not so good at counting.)

But first, it's time to squeeze a lemon over a circle of batter, as is traditional.

NaBloPoMo: Sick Beat

Whenever you plan to do something over several days or weeks, include some slack for sick days.

You don't know when you'll have that bad cheese sandwich, or contract a 24 hour headcold, but the chances are you will, and your timetable will get thrown off.

And that's the advice from my sickbed today. [Cough cough].

NaBloPoMo: Let There Be Drums

If creation is all in preparation then...I'm good at preparing.

The drums are synthesised, their EQ settings and variations set and defined, their reverb settings similarly set and defined, as are their decay parameters plus their individual and group compressor settings.

In other words, the drums are all taken care of. It might take 10 seconds to come up with a beat, but it takes a day to get the knobs twiddled the way you like them, so the beat doesn't sound like porridge. Unless you want a degree of porridginess, for a 'live sound' or you want a few instruments to make a thick sound a la Portishead.

Odd how painting buffs understand the difficulty in getting the right colour, but music buffs think the colours of sound come automatically and magically. I think most snobbery is inverted.

It takes months to make a pop song in the studio - and most of that doesn't involve the band. Sometimes it involves a session band re-recording the bits the band couldn't get right - which has been known to be most of the song - and sometimes it involves hundreds of minute adjustments to timing and frequency of samples.

The Beatles used to record their early albums live. They'd write the song, practice it a few times, go into the studio and press 'record'. Which leads to the question of whether or not their greatness (assuming you believe in the greatness of The Beatles) is in spite of, or because of, their early albums sounding like demo tapes.

I'm all for a little tasteful imperfection in music. That's why I set some of the parameters to vary semi-randomly but subtly within limits. A perfectly autotuned singer doesn't produce an inherently good or inherantly bad sound - just a perfectly autotuned one, and all the criticism of T-Pain for using autotune is a criticism of T-Pain's way of using autotune, as opposed to his use of it at all.

Except for those who criticise any use of autotune, who're just silly. And inverted snobs.

I don't personally get why The Beatles were (and are) loved so much. Probably because I was born in 1972 and not 1952. I'm sure most of those born in 1992 don't get what made the Eurythmics or the Pet Shop Boys exciting - or even interesting - in the 80s.

There were plenty of musos who objected to the 'cold, soulless' sounds of CDs when they first appeared. They genuinely thought hiss, crackle and distortion was part of the way James Brown should sound - as though his band came with hiss and crackle built in.

There were also those (including modern bands like The White Stripes) who thought analog tape gives a 'warm' sound. As indeed it does - by the interpolation of harmonic partials by saturation, soft knee compression, low frequency red noise in the background, and more extra frequencies created by wow and flutter in the drive mechanism.

The Brown fans were like those who see an old painting after cleaning and declare the dirty version they saw for decades was better - because that's the version they'd got used to. And the analog fans pretend not to know you can get the same effects, but usefully controllable, digitally.

Digital recreations of analog imperfections really are better than the real thing. Provided you're not in a nostalgic mood, of course. I used to work with warm analog tape. Most of the time, I wanted less of the warmth and more of the clarity.

So anyway, I have drums. Tomorrow...I shall have instruments.

NaBloPoMo: You Don't Want to Do It Like That

"Learn from my fail." - Failblog Site

Here's my quick list of things I do, which I know I shouldn't, when trying to be creative. Three bad habits to avoid.

1) Force it. If you've got no inspiration for the words, but you need some words before you go any further, then staring at the screen until your head starts to bleed in the hope the drops of blood will spell a genius line...won't work.

If you've been trying to do something for an hour, and it's just not working, then doing it for another hour probably won't help.

2) Permature perfection. The lyrics you use when constructing the song don't need to be the final ones. A simple dumb bassline can stand in for the killer one you haven't quite worked out yet, while you're working on EQing the drums.

And if you're recording the guitar part, you only need a rough mix - or a guide track - not something close to the finished product.

If all you've got is a rhyming couplet, sing that until you need more. If you've got a hihat you don't like, use that one till you're in the mood for tweaking hihats. Or...don't program the hihats yet.

3) Skip sleep. I'm a night owl. I often work best at four in the morning. But if I go to bed at five and wake up at nine, I will be rubbish for the whole day. And if I can scrape together the will to write something, it will be rubbish.

If you skip sleep, you might get two good hours done - and lose all of the next 24. It's bad economics.

The reason I had to hastily cobble this post together instead of presenting you with the fruits of my creativity is...I stayed up all last night failing to find inspiration, and as a result, was an uncreative zombie the whole day. I will now sleep, even though I'm not tired, so I can hopefully make something tomorrow.

NaBloPoMo: La La La

I can't waffle.

When there's nothing to say, I find it extremely difficult to say anything. And when there is something to say, it's usually one sentence.

As someone who's trying to be a blogger and a songwriter, this is a problem. Here's what I have to say on the great issues of our times:

* Love: It you like it, fine - I don't have the patience.

* Sexuality: Everything human is coloured by it, but no one knows just what it is.

* Television: We only watch it because we like to confuse it with reality.

* Religion: The wishful thinking of the oppressed, usurped by the oppressors. Creationists are cretins.

* Prejudice: A need to scapegoat converging with willful ignorance.

* Obama: Bush Junior Junior (with education).

* Lady Gaga / Justin Timerlake / Michael Jackson: Not important enough to get emotional about.

If you think this post is just waffle, then I stand corrected. But I've spent the last 48 hours trying to write rap lyrics (because my singing voice isn't very good at the moment), and coming up with a dozen couplets that Eric B might write before breakfast - before throwing in the bin.

I just don't have anything I want to communicate at the moment - I just want to write a song.

But there is an alternative which has been kicking around my head for a few months now: Phonetics. In the late 70s, David Bowie experimented with abandoning words as such, instead just using vocal sound. I think I can be a little more systematic.

My background in linguistics gives me enough knowledge of phonetics and morphophonemics to put together a 'pretend language' - a series of rules about vocal sound concatenation which result in 'words' and what sounds like a human language, but with no grammar and no meaning.

Here's a verse:
Ma, 'o, zu
Ko, xo, yoku
Neku, neku, to'u
Ketu'apu!

It's a simple, Polynesian-like system where each syllable is consonant-vowel, and odd-numbered syllables are stressed - giving a trochaic metre.

I come up with the melody, then use a little program to generate the syllables, fitting them to the tune.

Hey, why force yourself to say something when you've got nothing to say, just because you need a vocal line?

The system is called Zilo (from the first two syllables it ever produced), and I'll probably talk some more about it tomorrow.

NaBloPoMo: Intro

"I wanna be a rock star" - Nickelback

When I was a child, I thought I wanted to be a pop star. Then I thought about it, and realised I wanted to be a musician, which is completely different.

Then I thought about it some more, and realised I didn't want to play a musical instrument - I wanted to be a composer. Then I thought about it some more, and decided I wanted to mess around with anything which made a noise, turn it into a different noise, and record the result.

So I suppose what I really wanted to be...was Brian Eno.

Or Alvin Lucier, Arnold Schoenberg, Luigi Russolo, John Cage, Delia Derbyshire, Robert Moog, Ralf Hütter and Trevor Horn. Or Alex Patterson.

But then I turned twenty-something, life got in the way, and I haven't done much music since. I spent a while waiting for life to stop getting in the way, but now that I'm in my late thirtysomethings, that strategy doesn't look like it's going to start working any time soom.

Patience may be a virtue, but I'm not feeling very virtuous anymore. So I'm going to record an EP over March, or at least try, and blog about it.

Oh, My Word

NaBloPoMo is National Blog Posting Month. The idea is simply to pick a topic, and make a blogpost once a day or more - on their site and/or your own - on that subject. The 'main event' is in November each year, but it runs every month.

They give you an optional theme for each month, and this March it's "In a Word". I don't have a single word to describe why I got the impulse to participate, but I've had trouble finding anything to blog about lately, and I've had zero success in putting together any music. So NaBloPoMo seemed a good opportunity to push myself in both.

My month-blog is here, and I'll mirror the posts here, together with any actual music I manage to come up with.

So far, after the first day I can report I've come up with a dozen dull rhyming couplets and some generic beats. So right now the word is: Uninspired.

The Mass Debate!

It's often said "Never enter a battle of wits with an unarmed man". But I like to think there's a footnote which runs "Except for practice, or curiosity, or because you've got nothing better to do...or you just really want to because it gives you a perverse pleasure".

And where better to do it than the home of witless battles, youtube comments. But as the bishop said to the actress, it's probably too long for one session, and there's a chuckle at the end.

Theaccousticaddict: Lol, i never said Jesus was God, Jesus was and still is the son of God, that's why God spoke while Jesus was being baptised, he said "This (Jesus) is my beloved son in whom i am well pleased". God clearly specified Jesus as his son. God is Lord, but only through Jesus can we get to him, only through Jesus can we be saved by the grace of God, why? Cos Jesus is the intercessor between man and God he paid the price salvation on the cross of Calvary and defeated death.
Kap: Congratulations, you've just rediscovered the Aryian heresies - the first big theological punchup of christianity. Actually the fudged solution was that god and jesus are 'of the same substance'. Later the holy spirit, not jesus, was given the job of intercessor.
So I'm afraid you've got the creed wrong, and you're actually a heretic. Bad luck.
[I was actually thinking of the Russian Orthodox position when I wrote that. Most of the European and American positions are less worked out.]
Theaccousticaddict: The holy spirit is our comforter not our intercessor, Jesus alone is our advocate and intercessor and the bible is quite specific about this fact. I think it would do you good if you studied the bible well rather than spend time believing in some "creed" that was developed not according to the word of God, but according to tradition. It looks as if you need a bit of schooling with issues in the bible. The holy spirit is not an intercessor, but only a comforter for the sons of God.
Kap: Actually in most forms of christianity it's Mary who's the intercessor. The bible is obviously not specific about the role of the spirit, as the spirit is an extrapolation of a single passage which, after 150 years, led to the father-son pair being expanded into the trinity we know today. You may indeed have read the bible but you don't know much about it.
Theaccousticaddict: well that's not what the bible says a true Christian adheres to the bible and anything apart from that is unchristian and not according to the word of God.Catholics base their mode of worship mostly on tradition rather than the word of God, they pray to saints and Mary instead of the true God. Mary is not an intercessor, she did not pay the price for that on the cross, Jesus did and Jesus alone is our advocate
Kap: So the protestant superstition of the magic sky daddy is more in accordance with a book of fairy tales than the *catholic* superstition of the magic sky daddy. Big deal.
Theaccousticaddict: I dont know what a "Magic sky daddy" is, maybe its one of your fantasised characters, but that is not scriptural neither is that Christian, so i have nothing to say to that. true Christian adheres to the bible, whether you are a protestant or not, it doesn't matter, what natters is adhering to the word of God. I dont know what you mean by "A book of fairy tales", i only know of the bible which is the word of God, stop confusing the bible with your fairy tale stories.
The bible is quite very specific about everything there is to know. We are spiritual beings, and we must live our lives according to the will of God as we will one day give accounts for our deeds. I dont know what you mean by "The role of the spirit". Right from the beginning, Jesus was the son of God and still remains the son of God, yes the trinity is made up of father,son and holy spirit, but that does not mean they are one being or entity.
Kap: Yes, the bible specifically says there are dragons and unicorns, bats are birds, insects have four legs, the world is flat, animals can talk, people come back to life, people fly, and human parthenogenesis is possible.

Theologins have added that jesus existed before he was born, there's a shadowy third 'spirit', and the three both are and are not the same thing in different aspects. Theologins are good at fudging.
[We'll rejoin this thread soon, but first a sideline....]
Theaccousticaddict: Listen, you have no idea what you are talking about. Catholic faith is based on tradition, a true Christian abides and adheres to the bible. Matthew 3;17 clearly specifies how God refers to Jesus as "His beloved son in whom he is well pleased with". Before you decide to proof me wrong, try studying the bible first, i,ve been a Christian all my life and i clearly understand what the bible is saying. Jesus is the son of God and God is our father which art in heaven.
Kap: The tradition changes constantly to suit the church. If you knew the history of your own faith you'd realise that. The term 'son of god' originally signified any (male) member of the Israel tribe. Misunderstanding this, theologins thought it referred to Jesus the prophet being the adoptive son of god, and then to him simply being the result of the divine impregnation of Mary.
Theaccousticaddict: I dont base the way i worship God on tradition, but on the holy word of God. Anything out of that is unspiritual, unchristian and unholy unto our God in heaven. There are so many false religions out there as well as false prophets and wolves in sheep clothings who are out there to confuse the mind of the masses from the path of light. If you want to know about God, then adhere to the word of God, the world will only just confuse you.
Kap: [The holy word of god]...as interpreted and institutionalised in, um, tradition. One of many traditions.
You're like someone who learned one version of a folk song in childhood, and on finding there are variations, insists that theirs must be the true one. Because it's the best. Because it's the one *they* learned.
Theaccousticaddict: No, not on tradition, but by the holy word of God. Traditions are man made, the word of God is life. You are clearly misinterpreting the bible.
Kap: Ah, so you admit that the bible has to be interpreted to be understood. Interpretation (and mistanslations) become traditional. You are following one tradition, claiming it as the only correct interpretation. All the other sects do the same thing. Simply asserting that your tradition isn't a tradition just isn't good enough.
Theaccousticaddict: There's only one true interpretation for what the bible is saying. "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth", in what other way can that be interpreted to mean anything? the bible is clearly specific of its messages so i dont get what you are moaning about. You have no reason for not worshipping God, you are doing the same sand things your kinds do, and that is try to come up with all little and flimsy excuses to support your course, well you have no excuse so get over it!
Kap: I have no reason for not worshipping a small stick either - except that I have no need for superstition. You seem angry that others don't have the same needs as you - an odd position for someone secure in his faith.

In the beginning 'Elohim' created the land and sky. Elohim is plural, and female - you claim your god is neither. What was the order of creation? There's two irreconcilable account in Genesis. You call this 'clearly specific'.
Theaccousticaddict: No reason? well he created you in his own image, he gave you life, without him you would not exist so therefore, you owe your existence to him and therefore must worship him. Yet, out of love, he still gave you the freewill to chose whether to worship him or not. Most people might say "I created you, so you must worship me" but God out of love gave us freewill to chose.

You have nothing important to say, you just repeat after me.
Kap: So your reasoning is: I should believe god created me, because I should worship him, because he created me.

And I should believe in hell, because if I don't...I'll go to hell, which is a terrible threat, if I believe in hell.

And you should believe in the invisible gun pointed at your head, because if you don't, it will fire. So why don't you believe in the gun, Mr Accoustic? I'm telling you it's there, and you have the same reasons for believing in it as you do in god.
Theaccousticaddict: No, whether you believe God created you or not, it changes not the fact that he did actually create you, there's nothing you can do to change that fact except be used to it. He created you and therefore deserves your worship. Whether you believe in hell or not, it does not change the fact that it is real. You just keep twisting things to suit your point.
Kap: And whether you believe in the the flying spaghetti monster or not, he still sees you with his meatball eyes.

If you can provide any reason to believe beyond your repeated assertion, it's about time you did so. If you can't you must by your own thinking join every religion which has ever existed - or ever could exist.
Theaccousticaddict: Now you are trying to talk about God from an academic perspective instead of from a spiritual perspective. You cant learn about God by going to school, you learn of him by reading and understanding his holy word. The truth is right there in our faces, the door is open, its our choice to either remain outside or walk in. Jesus is the son of God, the only one ever who died and ressurected from the death. He is Lord and none can be saved except through his grace.
Kap: Jesus is unique. No one else rose after three days and will return again, and he is the only path to truth.

Apart from Osiris. And Isis. And Prometheus and hundreds of other religious figures with near-identical biographies. Check the dead sea scrolls for stories about many mythical figures which eventually coalesced into jesus.

Then check out the contemporary accounts of jesus' life. That should be easy, because there aren't any.
Theaccousticaddict: lol, Isis never died and ressurected, that is all pure myths. If you read the true history of Isis very well you,d realise that Isis never died, rather he merged with the son god Ra. The evil ones have twisted these myths to be identical with Jesus cos (1), they want to confuse the minds of the masses from the truth, (2), they want people to believe that the story of Jesus is a myth alongside these mythical characters. Read the real stories of Isis and Osiris.
Kap: Oh I see, there's a massive anti-christian conspiracy to discredit jesus, dating from 2-4000 years before he was supposedly born. Perhaps you think I'm part of this massive conspiracy, together with every single folklorologist in the world.

Or maybe the jesus story is the conspiracy, created to discredit Isis by 'the evil ones'. It's equally plausible, given the evidence.
Theaccousticaddict: You are not part of the conspiracy, but you,ve been brainwashed and denied the truth by these conspiracies. The story of Jesus i no conspiracy, its been supported by texts which are not biblical. Am asking myself why am wasting my time responding to your flimsy excuses.Listen to yourself, why would the "evil ones"create a story of salvation, hope and eternal life filled with bliss, no death and happiness? think before you speak.
Kap: You argue because your belief can't stand on its own - you need to find evidence because faith isn't enough.

There are no extrabiblical texts which mention a jesus of nazareth. The one paragraph in Josephus is a later insertion. The gospel of barnabas is a (bad) fraud. The gospel of thomas is a collection of quotes and miracle stories from over the 2000 years before jesus - most of which reappear in the synoptics with character names changed.
Theaccousticaddict: obviously there's an anti Christian conspiracy, there always was right from the beginning, that's why Satan made Adam and Eve sin cos he hated God and hated God's creation. He has also strived to destroy God's name and image right from then till now, pulling men to become his servants and rewarding them with worldly riches, fame and fortune.
Kap: Interesting that Satan seems to be winning the war. Especially as he's fooled 99% of all the christian groups into following the wrong interpretation.

You have given no reason to believe any of your claims, beyond asserting they're clear in the bible, and when they're not, Satan's obscured them, conveniently for you.
Theaccousticaddict: we pull men to God so that they might have eternal life not so that they might be rewarded with worldly riches, fame. The bible clearly specifies these things as vanity, "What shall it profit a man if he gains the world and looses his soul". You have no idea what you are talking about.
[And now, we return to the subject of, um zoology.]
Theaccousticaddict: No, the bible says nothing about 2Unicorns", that's another lies. Yes, the bible talks of mighty dragons, and that's a fact cos what the bible refers to as dragons are what we call "Dinosaurs" today. The bible does not say that the world is flat, again, another lies. Yes, God made Baalam's donkey talk, he created the whole universe so making an animal speak would be piece of cake fro him. Yes Jesus died, and came back to life, after which he ascended into heaven.
Kap: So dinosaur co-existed with humans...and then god erased all the evidence and made the world look like there were millions of years between the two. Because...well, he enjoys telling pointless lies. And punishing those who believe them.
Theaccousticaddict: Yes dinasours co existed with man, there are drawings of life dinosaurs on caves, rocks by ancient civilizations and its clear that they co existed. I dont know why you think dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans just cos some radiometric machine told you so, so lame.
Kap: So on the one hand there are cave drawings showing animals, which people who can't tell a psittacosaurus from an apatosaurus try to interpret as dinosaurs. And on the other, the most consistent and proven long-term dating technology in the world.

Only a creationist could take such pains to be so stupid.
Theaccousticaddict: Listen, the carvings were of dinosaurs, not like anything we,ve seen today, real life dinosaurs. That alone is sufficient proof that ancient civilization lived and co existed with these creatures. You can say otherwise, but that's just cos u re ignorant. Well your equipment may be the "most consistent and long term dating technology" but (1) that is your opinion and (2) it still does not change the fact that its answers and results are based on probabilities, not factual truth.
Kap: So you don't grasp what probability is - no surprise. And saying over and over again "These are pictures of generic dinosaurs" doesn't make it true.

There were 9000+ dinosaur species. Link to a picture of a painting or carving, and identify the species, explaining why it couldn't be any animal known by science to exist at the same time as early humans.
Theaccousticaddict: probability is not factual, its just almost like a presumption, there's no specific conclusion. The carvings showed real lived dinosaurs including the T rex and the rest of em, you are just ignorant based on the lies you,ve been fed with.
Kap: If probability theory didn't work, astronomy would be impossible. There would also be exactly zero point in taking a census every few years.

Show us the pictures. Link to to evidence that the Flinstones is a documentary.
Theaccousticaddict: Probabilities are not facts, simple as that. Facts are specific, probabilities aren't.
[Back and forth like this a few times]
Kap: A probabilistic estimate of the time the dinosaurs died out is around 65 million years. Let's say the estimate is out by a truly massive amount, much much more than has ever happened before - say 10 million years.

Lets say the evidence for humans is also out by the same amount. There's still 10.8 million years between the two. Even if you exaggerate the error of radiometric dating beyond any plausibility, you still can't put humans and dinosaurs in the same timeframe.
Theaccousticaddict: Well that estimation is wrong sir. I have witnessed occasions were radiometric testings has provided a variety of results for one test. That is no truth, truth is not based on estimation.

Again, i need proof from you that the universe is billions or even millions of years old.
Kap: The existence of Hubble pictures, combined with the Michealson-Morley experiments on the speed of light prove the age of the universe.

You say truth is not based on estimation. Go to your bible and count the estimates. You are confusing precision with accuracy - an elementary confusion when talking about statistics.

If you have any evidence that 'that estimation is wrong sir', post it. Together with evidence that cave paintings show dinosaurs.
[Ommitted rather pointless discussion of whether the bible outsells the Quran, and if it does, whether that indicates that it's all true.]
Theaccousticaddict: Tell me how the world looks like the dinosaurs and man are millions of years apart. What evidence do you have for this claim? and please dont refer me to some "radiometric" dating, that's not real and accurate facts, its based on probabilities. I have proof that dinosaurs and man co existed, there are human drawings of variety of dinosaurs on rocks, caves and even drawings of men hunting down these creatures.
Kap: You're forbidding me from using using radiometric evidence, because you think probabilities don't exist or something. Okay, look at the geological evidence. Dinosaurs in one set of bands, hominids in a higher set, laid down later.

You on the other hand have...some stick figures hunting some buffalo-like round things.
Theaccousticaddict: Am not forbidding you from using radiometric evidence, am just against you posing it as factual evidence when they are nothing more than information based on nothing more than probabilities. Now maybe ancient civilization did not really know dinosaurs like we do, but they co existed with them, hunted them and used them for food, all these evidence is recorded in carvings and drawings and that is sufficient for the wise man.
Kap: Show us the evidence.
Theaccousticaddict: Show me the evidence that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans. Dont tell me anything about radiometric crap, give me believable evidence. No one was there, so for you to be so certain of this thing, then which means that you have evidence beyond reasonable doubt that you are right. Its amazing how you are in a blind faith without realizing.
Kap: I have given you the evidence - fossil bands. You ignored it because it was inconvenient. Address the issue or admit you can't.
Theaccousticaddict: fossil bands?? REALLY?? so fossil bands supercedes real evidences left by human beings?? and how the hell does fossil bands prove that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans? cos to me it doesnt.
Kap: Then you don't understand the most elementary geology.

Oh, and you have yet to back up your claim of 'real evidences left by human beings'. Please do so, if you can.
Theaccousticaddict: i wanted to prove to you that dinosaurs and man co existed, and i did so by showing you the evidence of man's drawing and carving of dinosaurs on caves and rocks.
Kap: You have claimed this mysterious evidence exists. You have not shown the evidence. For the forth time, where is it?
You also have to show that what you claim are dinosaurs could not be drawings of animals already known to exist at the time. So far you've proven nothing beyond your own capacity for repeated baseless assertion.

No more prevaricating. Provide the evidence. Now please.
Theaccousticaddict: what re u talking about? we are talking about spirituality here not physical matter. Ok, what evidence do you have to show that love, hate, jealousy etc exists?

Please stop asking physical proof for things that are of a spiritual nature, it only shows you have no idea what spirituality is.
Kap: We are talking about dinosaur bodies and human bodies, living at the same time. Bodies are matter. Whether or not spirits and even emotions exist, bodies are corporeal. You are making claims about the corporeal universe. Stop trying to dodge the issue. Substantiate them.
Theaccousticaddict: Humans and dinosaurs lived together, that's a fact. spirits exists, like a bottle preserves wine, so does the body preserve the soul which is our spirit.
Kap: If it's a fact you should be able to show us the proof.

For the fifth time, please do so.
Theaccousticaddict: Jesus existed before he was born, that's fact. He always existed, he just came in form of man to die for our sins, after which he ascended back to heaven, to where he had always been before.
Kap: There is nothing in the bible to suggest any of that. You are imposing extra-biblical traditions onto the text.
Theaccousticaddict: humans and dinosaurs did really co exist.
Kap: How difficult can it be for your to find a link to some of this evidence you claim exist? Are you really unable to find something in AIG or a similar wingnut site? An article by an expert, some jpgs of the cave paintings, a youtube clip?

I've now asked you six times to substantiate your claim that cave paintings show dinosaurs and humans lived together. You say there's lots of evidence. Where is it?

After twenty four hours, he did something amazing. He posted a link to some evidence. And here it is!

I know. I'm as blown away as you are. A plesiosaur, which was a sea-dwelling dinosaur, badly drawn onto a muddy blob which might once have been part of a cave painting. Not a caveman painting from about 32,000 years ago - an Anasazi painting, from 400-1800 CE.

I never thought I could be overwhelmed by how underwhelming something is. But then I met a creationist.

Una Palone Blanca

The writer James Baldwin was a black man who grew up with virulent racism in America's deep south in the 1940s.

His novels were my teenage introduction to gay literature - and almost surreptitiously to African American literature. I'd recommend it to everyone.

His journey out of the mental scarring of his Harlem childhood was difficult, but one moment in it seems revealing. He'd casually chatted with a stranger in a car park, and later in the day...was amazed when he couldn't remember whether the man was black or white.

Actually I'd always doubted the story - Baldwin was a writer after all, and anecdotes are almost always exaggerated.

But today...I was waiting for a friend outside a pub. I looked in and saw someone sitting in our customary place - or at least their teeshirted arm.

I spent several long seconds trying to work out whether the arm belonged to my friend, thinking it was probably too thin, and the hairs too long, and the nails didn't look right. Then I remembered.

The arm belonged to a white guy, and my friend is black.

This could just be Kapitano having a senior moment. But if not, I hereby christen it a Baldwin Moment.

The moment when you realise the whole race and skin tone thing had completely slipped your mind.

Lessons

You know there's something wrong with your life when you find yourself thinking, "I ought to do something different - because I can't make an interesting blog post out of what I'm doing."

What I've been doing is:

* Failing to get my laptop to crunch 840,000 numbers for a vaguely defined music tech project. Or rather, failing to find a way to do this in less than a solid week.

Instead, I spent a week trying to make it take less than a week.

I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere.

* Spending quite a lot of money trying to find a cheap bargain in mobile phones. I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere.

* Failing to make some idiots on youtube understand, well, anything actually. Least of all that they're idiots. I'm sure there's a...well, anyway.

Here's one scintilating exchange, on the subject of George Takei's wedding:

Zailaach: lol who the cares about this fag's wedding, Shatner is the one and only star of the Star trek ok he's the one who made that show so cool not that faggot, Shatner's soooo right now that he's close to death he should find a peace in his life but instead he's so revengeful talking sht about Shatner 40, 50 yrs later like come on !!!

Kap: Obviously *you* care. Enough to find references to it on youtube, and post some idiot spleen. Odd how so many homophobes can't stay away from gay stuff.

Zailaach: shut up u fag messed up brain dead sob

Kap: Yes, you *really* can't stay away. What is it about manlove that makes you come back again and again? And dropping those little asyntactic blobs of rage in comments.

Zailaach: omg would you leave me alone with your fagging little **** stars n shit, wtf is wrong w you retard bitch? leave me alone what a lunatic!!!

Kap: Why should I? Every time you dribble into your keyboard you confirm my original point, and your excuse for a brain goes a little further into meltdown - which is vaguely entertaining to watch. You obviously can't cope with anyone talking back, which may be why you seem never to have learned anything, ever.

Zailaach: go fuck your dog or your boyfriend's asshole or whatever you usually fuck! loser! you know you're going to hell right? with your lil stars and your dick n poop all over it eww haha your nasty! well I hope god bless you Mr. Psychopath, I've nothing to say, say whatever you wanna say idontgiveafuck TATA

Kap: In other words..."Look at me! Look at me ignoring you! Everybody look at how I don't care what you think!"

Apart from that, your growing scatological obsession is, um, interesting. It seems to vary inversely with your grasp of grammar. Perhaps you would care to post a *third* comment about how you're not going to post any more comments?

Regrettably my corespondent did not comment further. But he did leave a charming and insightful message on my profile page:

you must be a liberal lunatic who just sits on his ass probably wayy too gay and lazy to work, lives on welfare, and from the sound of his comments definitely a drug dealer or some sort, I honestly feel bad for you, what a sad way of living, Get a job and be useful instead of stealing my tax money and be pathetic have a good life !!!!

This has been a selection of my hate mail.