#oneaday Day 772: The Lovely(-Sounding) Bones

I dread to think how much money I have spent on headphones over the years. I never buy particularly pricy ones — I think the most expensive ones I've bought were some nice noise-cancelling Sony ones a while back, which I use when recording videos — but I do get through 'em. I'm annoyed that probably my favourite headphones of all time — a pair of Sennheiser on-ear headphones that cost me about £35 — went missing and I have no idea where, but no matter; I have replaced them a bajillion times over since.

My most recent acquisition in this department is a set of "bone-conducting" headphones. I have been curious to try this technology for a while, and as it was a nice day without being "can't breathe" levels of hot today, I thought I would go for a walk and try them out.

For the unfamiliar, bone-conducting headphones are exactly what they sound like. Rather than sticking them in or on your ear, they sit just in front of your ear on the bony bit that is there. They then transmit the sound through that bone and into the complicated stuff that is inside your ear. This means they bypass your eardrum, which has a number of benefits — most notably allowing those with hearing issues to hear things much better than through things you put in or on your ear — but for me their main appeal element is the fact that… well, they don't sit in or on your ear.

I don't like earbuds because I've never found a pair that are comfortable or that will stay in — and with how bloody tiny wireless ones are these days, I'd be terrified of losing them if I'd paid any sort of premium for them. I do like over-ear headphones, but they do make my head hot, so they're not especially practical for wearing out and about, particularly in the summer. And you just don't really seem to see on-ear headphones much these days. At least, I haven't. Maybe I just haven't really been looking.

These bone-conducting headphones I got were a cheapo pair from Amazon, because I wasn't about to pay through the nose for these if they were any sort of unknown quantity. They're wireless, have USB-C charging and Bluetooth, which is all I really needed. There are fancier (and much more expensive) pairs you can get that have on-board music storage, heavier waterproofing that lets you use them while swimming, and all manner of other features, but I figured just for now, just to begin with, something basic and affordable would be plenty.

And they are! I wore them out for a walk around the Common earlier today, and they definitely do the job. Music is audible and clear, and the fact they're not stuffed in your ears means that if you keep the volume down a bit you can still hear everything going on around you; if you turn the volume up, meanwhile, you can get almost as much immersion in the sound as with a regular pair of earphones.

Sound quality is okay. If you had a Walkman back in the day and had a pair of those over-ear headphones with the foam ear covers, the sound quality seemed roughly equivalent to a pair like that — nothing super-remarkable, a little lacking in the bass end, but perfectly adequate for most things, particularly if "listening to music" is not the primary activity on your agenda and you just want some background noise.

I'm surprised how effectively the bone-conducting method works. I was expecting it to feel weird or be somehow "unusual", but when the music's on, it just sounds like it's being piped into your ears like with a regular pair of headphones. The only real notable difference I noticed is beyond a certain volume level, you can feel the vibrations a little bit, giving a slight tickly sensation around the temples. I found a decent balance between sound quality, not being tickled and being able to hear important noises around me to be a few steps down from max volume, whereas on a lot of other headphones I tend to find myself whacking them up to max and leaving it there.

While I'm not going to go and recommend these things as a replacement for proper audiophile gear — I suspect even the more expensive models will be somewhat limited in their sound quality by the very nature of the tech — they're absolutely a great solution for having some music on while you're out and about, and they're discreet enough that you can just leave them on all the time even while you're not actively using them.

I'm definitely going to be using these a lot more, as I'm definitely (haha) going to be getting out and having a nice walk on a more semi-regular basis than I have been. Weather-permitting, of course; I suspect with how most days have been of late, I will be having a lot of evening walks rather than going in the daytime!

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 770: Motivation: the Sergeant-Major vs the kind voice

At therapy today, we were talking a bit about motivation, and how I feel like I've been struggling with it a bit of late — particularly when it comes to things like diet and exercise. One conclusion that I think we came to was that I am much more likely to be motivated to do something if I am kind to myself about it — and understanding of the fact that, while you might have grand long-term plans to achieve something that is well worth achieving, getting started will probably be quite a slow process.

To take exercise as an example, it's easy to say to yourself "I should exercise for at least half an hour at least three times a week" and then immediately feel like a failure the moment you don't manage to achieve that. (I am aware that is not very much exercise by some people's standards, but it's just a hypothetical baseline for the scenario I'm talking about here.) Setting yourself unrealistic "minimum" targets and then feeling bad when you fail to achieve them is not the way to develop long-term, healthy, sustainable habits, because you come to resent your unsuccessful attempts to live up to the completely arbitrary target you have set yourself, and end up not doing anything as a result. And with anything worth doing, doing that thing a little bit is always, always better than not doing the thing at all.

When I was talking about this, my therapist pointed out that I had a clear shift in my tone of voice. I was speaking purely in abstract terms about how my mind approaches such things, but I had subconsciously shifted to a rather stern-sounding voice (which she described as "the Sergeant-Major") when talking about not being able to meet those "minimum" expectations. And it's true; if you constantly berate yourself for not achieving something, that is, for most people, not a way to motivate yourself to achieve that thing. (It may well work for some people — I am not one of them.)

Conversely, when I think back over the times when I have had the most success getting myself to achieve something — or the times when I've been most convinced by another person to do something — it's always been when kind, gentle encouragement is on offer. A recognition of the fact that something might be difficult, at least to begin with, but a calm suggestion that I at least try something and see how I get on — and if I'm not able to achieve the Grand Target right away, that's fine! Taking a first step is still a step on the road to success, and however small that first step might be, it's better than stumbling so hard you decide the whole thing just isn't worth bothering with at all.

So this is something for me to work on. Acknowledge my successes. Take things one step at a time, a little at a time. Track my progress to celebrate my achievements, not to measure up how close I am to an arbitrary target that ultimately means nothing to anyone but myself.

Because, frankly, I can do that. Look at the post number on this post. Contemplate the fact that this is the third time around on this train, and I have successfully been motivated to do that day after day. This is exercise for the mind. Exercise for the body can be achieved in a similar way. One day at a time, a little at a time, until you wake up one day and you've achieved something that is important and worthwhile to yourself. Others may not recognise your achievement in the same way, and that's fine! It doesn't matter. So long as you have achieved something that you, yourself, find fulfilling, you have succeeded. And you can build from there.

To quote Soul Blazer, which I finished recently (and wrote about! and made a video about!): "Like good sleep comes after hard work, good rest comes after an honest life." I'm not planning on reaching "rest" any time soon, of course — touch wood and all that — but I do, honestly, want to ensure that I have no regrets. And living that honest life comes by taking things one step at a time, recognising your achievements every step of the way.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 769: Sample CDs and sonicfunkstars

I finally got around to doing something I've been meaning to do for ages today: (re)install my myriad CDs of music samples so I can have a play around with something like ACID Music again. (I don't even know if the copy of ACID Music I own still works, but it's worth a go, surely.) I say I got around to it. I got around to starting it. Because it's been a slow process.

Pete naps while waiting for a slow disc reader to do its thing.

There are a couple of reasons this has been a slow process. Firstly, I'm using a cheap-ass USB DVD drive, which I think is knackered. It's developed that particular trait that cheap-ass and knackered technology does where just breathing anywhere near its USB cable causes it to disconnect and then reconnect again — which, when you're talking about a storage device and attempting to get media off it, is not ideal.

Secondly, these CDs must be more than 20 years old. This is part of the reason I'm looking forward to having a play with them again: any music created with them will be so gleefully anachronistic that it will be an absolute delight. Back in the early 2000s, when I first got them, they may well have sounded clichéd. But now! Now they will just sound dated and stupid! And I live for dated and stupid.

The CDs in question were part of a range of packs that the "eJay" label put out, ostensibly (I guess) as an option for those who wanted to move on from the super-fun but rather simplistic Dance, Techno and Hip-Hop eJay sample sequencers, each of which came with a bunch of their own samples. These ones, meanwhile, covered a wide variety of different styles, including various forms of dance, house, techno, hip-hop, trip-hop, alternative, grunge, pop, industrial and many others. It always used to be a great joy putting mismatching samples together to see what happened, and I'm sure that's going to be even more fun now a lot of these "genres" don't really exist any more — at least in the same form as they did in the early 2000s, anyway.

Originally, when I first got these CDs, my school friends and I had a loosely organised collective known as "sonicfunkstars", which is still my Xbox Live Gamertag to this day. We made a bunch of silly (and not-so-silly!) tracks between us, and I get nice fuzzy feelings of nostalgia when I listen back to them. What's that? You want to hear one? Well, I think that can probably be arranged.

This is Txtr's Thumb, which I specifically composed to irritate the piss out of anyone with a Nokia mobile phone. Which was absolutely everyfuckingone at the time I made this. Its impact is somewhat diminished today — unless you have specifically set your phone up to make Nokia noises, which is a possibility, if you're one of those weirdoes who doesn't have your phone on silent at all times — but it does have a thumping beat that I was pretty pleased with back in the day, and still enjoy now. Bonus points for the unnecessary, pointless and nonsensical "lyrics". Baby. Baby! Everything, baby.

More? More.

This is Let's See Your Todger, which is composed almost entirely out of sound clips I recorded on my MiniDisc player of a Theatre Group rehearsal at university. If that doesn't give you some idea of how early 2000s we're talking… well, there you go. Also, sex noises (which weren't actually sex noises, but we thought they sounded like sex noises), which are funny.

One more, go on then. I should probably assemble all these onto a proper page at some point.

This is Good Times, which was an attempt to create the cheesiest-sounding thing possible with the samples I had available. We were into our cheese, we were, while we were at university, so I wanted to pay homage to that in my own way. It even features multiple Boyband Keychanges, just for added fromage factor.

That's a little taste of sonicfunkstars for you. At some point, as I say, I'll pull all this stuff together and archive it properly, along with the stuff I worked on with a pal during teacher training under the name Angry Jedi. Yes, indeed, the source for the original URL of this blog. But I think that's probably a tale for another time at this point.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 768: Sketchin'

I've been meaning to get back to doing stupid little doodles on posts for ages, but have just never… well, to be honest, I just haven't really been bothered to. Best to be honest about these things, and it's been nice seeing the stock images that kind and talented people from around the world have made freely available on Pexels, which you can access right from WordPress. But today, I thought I might as well actually use the fancy S-Pen that is stuck in the bottom of my phone, and so I did a tiny bit of research, found an actually pretty good-seeming free drawing app for Android (no more leeching off ClipStudio Paint's free trial) and just doodled a very quick thing for today.

Yeah, I know. Hardly worth making a big song and dance about, is it. But I tried to analyse why I fell off doing doodles on this site in the first place, and it was because I think I was trying to do a bit too much too soon. I thought that if I got a fancy graphics tablet and started faffing around with a fancy piece of software, then some sort of latent artistic ability would suddenly emerge and I would be able to produce something truly amazing, immediately.

Of course, it doesn't work like that. Not only does producing things that are genuinely amazing take time and effort, everyone also has their own distinct ways of working that they find most comfortable. For me, that has always been stupid little stickmen with oddly expressive faces. And so, I think for the immediate future at least, the stupid little stickmen with oddly expressive faces are back for now.

The thing I've always liked about doing the stupid little stickmen with oddly expressive faces in the past is that they make me think a little bit about what I've just written. I wouldn't go so far as to say sketching a companion doodle for a post makes me really reflect on things in any great depth, but it does at least make me think about how — and if — it would be possible to get the general vibe of the post across using a quick and dirty doodle.

Often that takes the form of a stupid joke. Back when I did three-panel comics on this blog — which I know at least one person enjoyed, but no-one else ever mentioned, so I stopped doing them just in case I was actually embarrassing myself with them — there were even some running storylines that went along with the blog posts, and sometimes the blog posts and the comic storylines would feed off one another in various ways. That was always pretty fun, actually, but like I say, outside of one once-regular commenter who I haven't seen for a long time (I hope you're well, Jud!) and my wife Andie, who bought me a large canvas print of one of my comics that still hangs above our bed, no-one ever really mentioned them, and I had no great designs of being "a webcomic" or anything anyway; it just seemed like a fun thing to do, and I had a copy of Comic Life on my Mac, so things just sort of went from there.

When you have your own site, though, I think it's important to make your own little mark on it somehow. I mean, obviously you already do that if you're writing things on it, but we are creatures that respond well to obvious visual stimuli, so if the overall look of the site helps get someone's personality across, so much the better, I say. I have tried to do this to a certain degree with the use of the Atari ST's system font for headlines — I tried putting the whole site in it once, but several commenters said it was difficult to read, and it probably was — but nothing beats a bit of scrappy artwork from someone who doesn't really do visual arts.

I've told the story of why I like drawing expressive stickmen many times before on this blog, but for the benefit of those disinclined to go searching through the archives, it stems from, as so many things do, my time at school.

I did pretty well for myself at secondary school. What eventually turned out to be an autistic spectrum condition (though I wouldn't know that until several decades later) meant that I kind of thrived in the structured environment where I was always learning things. But I wasn't, like, the school swot or anything. I had a mischievous streak, which was brought out of me by my friends — and particularly my good friend Edd, who I sat with in many different lessons.

Edd and I liked to doodle. We would doodle all sorts of things, all the time. It was one of our favourite activities — though we knew not to do it anywhere that we might get in vaguely "serious" trouble for. No drawing on desks, no defacing school property, and no doodling on our exercise books that the teacher would mark. (I must confess, however, that during one especially memorable Year 7 Humanities class, my other friend Daniel Blyth and I went through an entire History textbook and drew at least one dick on every single page. My favourite was the one that was poking out of a Roman water gourd, inexplicably shouting "I SCREAM!")

No, Edd and I would doodle on paper that we would specifically bring in for that purpose, or our "Rough Books", which I know I have talked about multiple times on this very site, so I won't tell that specific story again. But anyway. Given the opportunity to doodle, we would take it. And one of the things that we loved doodling was stickmen doing stupid things.

One of the earliest things we did with stickmen began in German lessons, which were so boring we eventually came to the conclusion that was some sort of temporal disruption around the Modern Languages department. (I successfully freaked several of my friends out by using the "countdown timer" feature on my snazzy Casio digital watch to make it look as if time was indeed running backwards.) We livened things up with "The German Stickmen", which was a four-panel comic in which two people would argue about something really stupid in German in the first frame, the second frame would devolve into them yelling "Nein!" "Ja!" at one another multiple times, the third frame would always be one of them shouting "ACHTUNG!" (like in Wolfenstein 3-D, see) and drawing some form of (usually explosive) weapon, and the final frame would inevitably involve some form of extreme violence or, most commonly, a mushroom cloud.

Over time, our ambitions for the stickmen became more elaborate. We'd already "created" (and I use the term loosely) the characters Edlock Holmes and Watson as a result of our shared enjoyment over the point-and-click adventure games The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes: The Case of the Serrated Scalpel and Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis, and when we went on holiday to Gran Canaria together, we produced an epic-length stickman comic, drawn in extreme haste and with no real care, called Fate of Thingy. This thing took on a life of its own and was rewritten multiple times, and I still have it somewhere — though I think it's missing one or two pages. The intent, you see, was to do a "rough" version of the comic using stickmen, then when we got home we'd do a "proper" one. I did, indeed, start doing a "proper" version, at one point, but we both decided we liked the stickmen so much they would become the canonical versions of Edlock Holmes and Watson. As Fate of Thingy continued to expand across multiple parts, all further development was in stickman form — and continued to be on the bright yellow legal pad Edd had acquired from his mother's workplace, until we ran out of that and had to start using bog-standard notebook paper.

So yeah. Stickmen are important to me, as ridiculous as that might sound. I have an intense, nostalgic and emotional attachment to them. And thus I think they should continue to be an important part of this blog. I will, therefore, from hereon, endeavour to provide you with a stupid little doodle to accompany each post (except when I really can't be bothered). Is that enough of a commitment for you? Well, tough shit, because it's all you're getting.

Nein!
Ja!
Nein!
Ja!
ACHTUNG!

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 767: Why I continue to write in an age of AI

I read a good piece earlier that got me thinking: why do I continue to tap out words here, day after day, in an age where those odious "Generate with AI" buttons are ubiquitous, whether you want them or not? (Even here in my own self-hosted version of WordPress, I cannot escape the "Improve with AI" button that I have never, ever clicked, even out of curiosity.)

close up photo of a pencil — Photo by Poppy Thomas Hill on Pexels.com

It's a fair question. Over the course of the last eighteen years, I have written 3.35 million words on this site across 4,642 posts. (Okay, technically a chunk of those were originally posted on my now-defunct blog on Patreon, but since that effectively took the place of this site while it was active, I am counting them.) I could stop at any point. In fact, I have stopped on multiple occasions. And yet something keeps bringing me back. And, moreover, every time I come back, the absolute last thing on my mind is to get the lying, lake-boiling plagiarism robot to "write" something for me.

Because why would you do that? If you want to write, just fucking write. Generative AI isn't "democratising" the creative process, as some people argue, because the creative process was democratised the moment everyone could afford writing implements and things to write on. Moreover, if you get the stupid dumbass robot to regurgitate some vapid garbage on your behalf, you have not written that. You do not deserve any credit whatsoever, even for "engineering" the prompt. You are a lazy, feckless idiot who does not want to do something creative; you want to fill the world with more content that no-one actually wants. To quote a memorable Reddit post I saw once in response to someone like this: "best of luck on something literally no-one, including you, will read."

"Oh, but it helps for resear-" Shut up. Shut up. It demonstrably gets things wrong a statistically significant proportion of the time, thereby making it completely worthless for research by its very definition.

"Oh, but it helps for brainsto-" Shut up. Shut up. What you are talking about is the creative process. Brainstorming is part of it all! The creative process doesn't start the moment you start typing, writing, recording or using your tools. It starts the moment a little light goes on in your mind and you have a vague idea that you want to make something. It starts the moment you get a flash of a character you want to construct. It starts the moment you get the hint of a melody. It starts the moment you read something else that inspires you to want to write something on the same subject — as I am doing right now.

I do not want generative AI. I did not ask for generative AI. I have no use for generative AI. And I think people who rely on generative AI to conjure some shit up out of a vague prompt rather than writing things themselves are, as previously noted, lazy, feckless idiots who have no interest in genuine creativity. They do not care about the quality of their eventual output; all they care about is that they have produced content. Consistency of content is key! Churn it out like a good little drone! Doesn't matter if it's good or not, so long as it gets engagement!

(Aside: I will begrudgingly admit that generative AI does have some potential use cases, but only as part of a human-led workflow and only if it is not being used as a means of attempting to replace the skills and knowledge of a real person. Even then, I can't help but feel there are other, less damaging ways to achieve the same thing — often with better results. And, indeed, many things that are now labelled as "AI-powered" are, in fact, not generative AI-based — they are just using "AI" as a supposedly fashionable buzzword, apparently blissfully unaware of the growing distaste for anything labelled "AI", when what they actually mean is "computer-controlled" or "based on machine learning". The auto-accompaniment mode on the Yamaha keyboard I used as a child would probably be labelled "AI" today when it is nothing of the sort.)

I often find myself thinking about all this, considering that I write something on this site every day as the result of a self-imposed but only loosely enforced challenge — and part of that challenge is to just write something, regardless of if it ends up being any good. At no point do I feel like I am creating content, because I am not doing this for anyone other than myself, and I am certainly not doing it for "engagement". I am doing it because I enjoy it; because I find it a helpful means of expressing myself; and because, occasionally, it allows me to form a connection with another person, when something I have written resonates with them, for one reason or another.

This website has over 3.5 million words on it, but not a single one of them has come from a machine. Not a single one of them has been written out of a desire to create content. Every one of them has come out of my brain because I wanted to write them, because there was something I wanted to express, because there was something I wanted to remember or because there was something I wanted to process. This may seem like a stupid, pointless website to the casual observer, but to me, it is immeasurably valuable.

If I had sullied even the tiniest bit of it with generative AI, it would no longer be mine. And yes, I'm aware that by the very virtue of it being On The Internet, it has probably already been ingested into one or more of the AI models out there. But I'm not taking it down or giving up on this valuable means of self-expression, because fuck you, Clammy Sam Altman and Wario Amodei, that's why.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 766: Verify your age

There's a meme going around on Bluesky today where you write "verify your age" and then post something in text or image form that you remember from Times Past™. In the absence of anything particularly interesting happening today, I thought I would do a bumper crop of these in one post. So prepare to verify my age! With, apparently, a lot of things about the phone. That wasn't deliberate, but it just worked out that way.

a vintage telephone — Photo by fotokirisci on Pexels.com

Answering the phone by giving your phone number to the person who just dialled it. This is one of those things that, when I was young, my Mum gave the impression of it being really important. I always felt weird doing it, but we continued doing these even after phone numbers got longer. "Great Gransden [xxx]" became "[xxx][yyy]". (Numbers censored so you don't phone my parents, who are still at the same house and phone number.)

Answering the phone at home with a "script" to determine who is calling, please? If I felt awkward reciting digits to a mystery person before I knew who it was, I felt really awkward acting like a receptionist. I wonder how much feeling obliged to do this as a kid has contributed to my general distaste for using the telephone today.

Having a phone number that, excluding area code, was three digits long. Yep, really; we had an area code that was five digits long, and a phone number that was three. During my childhood, this changed to a different five-digit area code with a "1" as its second digit, and which covered a wider region, and a six-digit phone number.

Being able to accurately dial a full-length phone number using a rotary phone and not panicking halfway through that you're not sure if you pulled the "9" around far enough. The phone in our hall was a rotary one. While I never really liked having to use the phone, dialling it was pretty fun. If you like mechanical noises, I encourage you to go play with a rotary phone, as it makes some very good sounds.

Being able to remember at least five phone numbers that were not your own. At some point, I could remember my own phone number, my Nan B's phone number (but not my Nan D's), my friend Matthew's phone number, my friend Edd's phone number and the phone number for my school. And possibly some more. Now I can just about remember Andie's mobile number… plus my parents' phone number, which is the same as it's been for nearly 50 years (and used to be "mine" also) so that one's kind of cheating.

Having a phone that actually rang, like, with a bell, not an electronic beeper. Again, the hall phone had a proper ringer and dear Lord it was loud. Heaven help you if you were standing next to it when it rang. Interestingly, every so often I do think I hear a proper ringer phone somewhere — I believe they might use them in places like construction sites still, as that piercing ring can be heard from a mile off.

"Going on the computer" being a discrete activity rather than the default behaviour. Get home from school, do homework, have dinner. Then, if I had been "good", I could maybe "go on the computer", as long as my Dad wasn't using it for anything. I feel like we lost something when we plugged ourselves into our PCs semi-permanently — and definitely when we effectively started carrying around a tiny PC in our pocket.

Sweet treats costing less than a pound each. There was an ice-cream man who came to our school every lunchtime — I assume (hope) he had some sort of special arrangement with the school — and he sold cans of drink for 30p, and "2p sweets" for… well, you know. (You could buy a bag of 2p sweets, too. I don't think we got screwed over with those.) Nowadays you'll pay a quid or more for a can of Coke, and the same again for a basic bitch chocolate bar. Don't even get me started how a "quick trip to the shops for some snacks" can end up costing £40 or more these days.

Going to a newsagent and coming out with something paper that you can read. I'm not even sure we have a newsagent anywhere near us any more. There's a pathetic little "Magazines" section in our local Sainsbury's, but it's nothing compared to the glory days of my Mum getting pissed off at my Dad for standing around reading Computer Shopper in WHSmith rather than actually buying a copy. I internalised my Mum's objections and preferred to buy a magazine that I wanted to read; it was much more fun reading it at home at my own pace.

Going out of the house to be with people who shared an interest. While I'm eternally sorry that I'm just a little bit too young to have been able to enjoy the phenomenon of "Computer Clubs" and "User Groups" in the early days of the 8-bit micros, when I was a kid I did have things that I went to each week and enjoyed, along with my peers. Cub Scouts was probably the highlight of these; that was an interesting time where I learned a lot of things that I probably otherwise wouldn't have found out about, had the opportunity to go (extremely heavily supervised) camping, and just generally had a pretty good time. I know that "interest groups" for grown-ups do exist, but I don't really know where to begin looking for them these days — particularly with all the dogshit information that is out there on platforms like Facebook these days. I miss the simplicity of your parents just knowing that there's a Cub Scout pack in the next village over, and wouldn't you like to join it, your friends are going to join!

So there you are. That's my age. I hope you enjoy it.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 763: My brain has melted

It's been unbearably hot again today. The thing I hate the most about unbearably hot weather is how lethargic it makes you in both body and mind. It has cooled off a fair bit now the sun has gone down, but my brain is still in a semi-liquid state, meaning it is proving enormously difficult to make myself do anything, even if the anything I choose to do is enjoyable.

skull with brain — Photo by Sami Aksu on Pexels.com

(That said, I'm here, aren't I? So maybe it's all starting to solidify again a bit.)

Patti, being a black cat with a fairly dense coat, has been suffering a bit in the heat, I think. She has taken to spending most of the day in what we call her "hole" — a little bit of the catio that attaches to the cat flap in the back of the house, and which is now a nice shady spot because Andie has put a bunch of seedling trays on top of it. She seems fairly content when she's in there, and she's up, about and active when the worst of the day's heat has passed by, so perhaps she just has the right idea — sleep through the worst of the heat and get up to cause mischief as the sun starts to set. And yes, she's getting plenty of water and the opportunity to cool off in the air conditioned bedroom whenever she wants.

Oliver, meanwhile, has been just fine. He's very much back to his old self: full of energy and mischief, and putting across the distinct impression that he doesn't even know what the word "sad" means. I am glad. I was concerned that his experiences living rough for three weeks might have traumatised him in some way — and perhaps they have — but he certainly seems to have adjusted back to life with us perfectly well.

The only real change we've seen in him — aside from all the weight he had lost when we first found him, which he's mostly put back on again now — is that he seemingly wants to be near one or both of us the vast majority of the time. He doesn't necessarily have to be interacting with us directly — sometimes he just wants to sit on the floor in the hallway near where we're working, or lying on the floor in the spare room next to my study, knowing that I'm there. He also follows me around the house even more than he did previously, which is adorable, but I do worry that one day I will trip right over him!

Andie is also suffering a bit, as she's on some medications that make it difficult for her to regulate her temperature, which I'm sure you can probably appreciate are not ideal to be taking in the middle of a heatwave. I am… kind of sort of OK, aside from the melty brain predicament I described at the start of this post. I often catch myself just sort of staring into space, wanting to go and do something fun, but having great difficulty mustering up the energy and enthusiasm to do so. Still, acknowledging that I am doing this thing, much like I acknowledge elements of my self, thoughts and feelings in therapy, is a helpful step towards breaking out of that cycle and going to do something.

The next challenge I need to tackle is exactly what to spend the remainder of the evening on. I could play some more Soul Blazer, or some Final Fantasy XI, or some Rhythm Paradise Groove, or some Star Fox, or…

Oh dear. I think my brain melted again.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 757: Nothing works any more

One of the most common refrains of people who discuss the topic of enshittification is that so much stuff related to tech just flat-out doesn't work any more, and no-one seems in any great hurry to fix it — particularly when all the actually knowledgeable engineers have been replaced with "vibe-coding" cunts.

a person holding up a laptop with a broken screen — Photo by Beyzanur K. on Pexels.com

Here is a list of tech-related things that, through no fault of my own, have occurred in the last week:

My Windows 11 PC inexplicably took twenty minutes to start up. There does not appear to be anything actually wrong with it. It has had every scan, virus check, hardware tweak imaginable run, and has had Windows completely reinstalled multiple times. Once Windows starts, it is mostly fine, with the following exception:
When browsing the Internet, occasionally both Firefox and Chrome will just… stop doing anything, to such a degree that they prevent the rest of Windows from doing anything. Checking logs indicates that nothing is particularly happening on the CPU, memory, storage or network front whenever this happens, it just… happens. Firefox does it marginally less than Chrome did, thus I have switched to Firefox.
When using my computer to browse Nextdoor, which is a site that eventually paid off during our search for Oliver, scrolling down more than about a screen and a half will cause the entire website to completely shit the bed, moving its sidebar to the middle of the screen before snapping you back to the top of the feed you were attempting to scroll through.
When using my phone to browse Nextdoor, a post where someone said the bin men had just been and not taken their bin remained at the top of my feed for the entire three weeks that Oliver was missing.
My keyboard just told me it had "low battery" despite being plugged in. I unplugged it and replugged it in and now it claims to have 98% battery.
My keyboard doesn't charge while plugged in if I don't have the Razer software running.
My mouse can have its wireless signal blocked by a packet of crisps.
My PC game controller sometimes requires turning on three times before it's actually turned on.
The Bluetooth on my work PC refuses to turn on despite showing as being present and working.
When listening to YouTube videos while falling asleep, at least 8 times out of 10, the app will randomly close itself for no apparent reason in the middle of a video.

It's frustrating that, when you're someone who takes good care of their tech — as I always have been — stuff just… fucks up after a while for no apparent reason. My woes with Windows on my living room PC are a longstanding issue that I am at my absolute wits' end with; I am getting perilously close to installing Bazzite and being done with Windows, particularly now I no longer need to work on this machine. Oddly enough, I have had zero Windows-related issues with my work mini PC, other than the Bluetooth problem, which may well be hardware-related.

I just miss the time when you bought something that was expensive and fancy, that it worked, and it continued to work for many years after you spent lots of money on it. Still, I knew that age was long past all those years ago when I updated my iPhone 3G to the latest iOS and it became completely unusable. I still went and upgraded to an iPhone 4 like a big mug, though, didn't I? Twat.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 752: What do the police even do any more?

I am someone who grew up with what I would describe as a healthy sense of respect for the police. I have never run afoul of them — the most "negative" encounter I have had with them was when I was about 18, driving my Mum's car around at about midnight, having been to visit some friends, and I got pulled over to be asked "is this your vehicle, sir?" to which the answer was, of course, "no, but I am insured on it." I wasn't speeding or driving dangerously, so I guess I was just stopped as some sort of random check or something.

However, in more recent years, I have come to somewhat lose faith in the police as a whole. I would go so far as to question what on Earth they are actually doing any more, having been in situations where a police presence would have obviously been quite helpful — mostly antisocial behaviour in the street, and particularly little scrots racing obviously stolen motorbikes around the area — and not seeing anything actually worthwhile happening.

I always used to enjoy watching shitty television like Police Interceptors, particularly when I am away from home, like I am this evening for the monthly trip to the office. But nowadays I just find them frustrating to watch, not because of the interesting things you see the cops in the show doing, but because of the inevitably disappointing follow-ups that inform you that despite all the hard work of the officers on the ground in a particular case, nothing of any actual note really happened to the people who deserved either some sort of consequences or some justice for what had happened.

Take the episode I caught part of this evening. A significant portion of the episode consisted of the police discovering a strange house that had seemingly been sitting empty, but which a local had seen some suspicious-looking individuals apparently breaking into. Upon arrival at the scene, the investigating officers found a machete case and what seemed to be some bloodstains on the floor. Once the armed police unit had been called in for backup, they investigated the house and discovered that it was not so empty at all; it, along with its next-door neighbour, which had had a hole punched through the wall to connect the two, was being used as a cannabis farm, with plants worth over half a million quid on site.

As part of this investigation, the plants were seized, as you might expect, and some fingerprints were found that you would think might lead to some further investigation. However, the programme made the disappointing announcement that after all that, "no further action was taken".

Look, I get sometimes that it's not possible to bring people to justice for their crimes — and that police dramas on the television, where the noble officers always get their man, are not at all reflective of reality. But quite often it feels like after a token "visible" effort has been made — while the cameras are on, in the case of a show like Police Interceptors — then something causes "the police", collectively, to just sort of shrug its shoulders and go "ah, well, probably wouldn't have caught them anyway" or something along these lines.

This must be inordinately frustrating for the officers on the ground who are pursuing these criminals with the hope of bringing them to justice. Can you imagine feeling pretty damn good about yourself for uncovering half a million quid's worth of drugs, and then discovering later that pretty much nothing was done about it? I can imagine that being exceedingly irritating — but unsurprising, given the amount of bureaucracy that goes into anything involving "local authorities" these days, be it teaching, policing or getting potholes fixed.

I also completely understand those who mistrust the very concept of the police on the grounds that the service continues to struggle with institutionalised discrimination, both within its own ranks and towards potential suspects. There has been outright violence and rioting in my city as a result of this sort of thing just recently — I don't really know all the details, but from what I understand, it has left a lot of people looking at our local police force in a somewhat less than complimentary light.

I'm pretty sure the residents in the area I live in are frustrated, too. There's a house just down the road from us that is very obviously one of the sources of the reckless teenagers racing around on obviously stolen motorcycles — because the obviously stolen motorcycles are parked outside the house. And it's obvious that they're stolen, because the lineup parked there seems to change on a pretty much daily basis. No-one buys and sells that many motorcycles in that short a space of time unless they are up to no good. And yet I know the police have been informed of this on multiple occasions by a variety of people, and yet nothing has been done.

So what even are they doing any more? I don't know. What I do know is that these days, I feel much less inclined to trust the police than I did in the past. And while in some ways that makes me feel a bit sad, in others I feel it's a sensible, healthy attitude to take, particularly as the world seems to be sliding inexorably towards global authoritarianism.

It's been said many times before, but we really are living in the absolute worst, most tedious cyberpunk dystopia that ever existed. We're getting pretty much all of the shit that sci-fi authors warned us about, with none of the fun stuff.

Oh well. Perhaps one day this will pass.

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.

#oneaday Day 751: Read/write access

There are a lot of things I don't like about myself, but one of the things that I have always been rather pleased with is my willingness to engage with the English language. A lot of this stems from being encouraged well at an early age, both by my parents and at school, but also a natural sense of inquisitiveness and curiosity about the use of words and language.

scattered word tiles on black background — Photo by Eleonora Vokueva on Pexels.com

I mention this because I am seeing more and more reports of a "literacy crisis" that appears to be arising, primarily as a result of "BookTok" (i.e. people on the odious short-form video platform TikTok who supposedly talk about books) and "book influencers" (i.e. people on a broader range of primarily video-based social platforms who supposedly talk about books). Most recently, the thing that has come up is some of these people complaining to authors when they come across a word they do not understand — and rather than looking that word up for themselves, using it as an opportunity to learn, they instead throw their toys out of the pram and get very mardy, even going so far as to throw around terms like "ableist". (Fuck off. Your assumption that disabled people can't read is the ableist perspective here.)

This sort of behaviour is absolutely unthinkable and unfathomable to me. I have always loved it when I learn new words, concepts or ways to express myself from things that I've read. There are turns of phrase I picked up as a child that I still use to this day, and I relish the opportunity to make use of a word that I've recently learned.

I am also more than happy to look something up if I'm not sure of it. I actually tend to find this happens more often while I am writing than reading; I'll be tapping out a sentence, and for some reason a particular word that I'm not entirely certain of the definition of will pop into my head as maybe-possibly being appropriate for the situation. Rather than shying away from using that word for fear of appearing stupid by using it incorrectly, I will look it up, determine whether or not it is, in fact, appropriate for the situation in question, and then, if possible, make good use of it. It's not out of a desire to appear "clever" or to baffle the reader with my vast vocabulary; I just find it fun and satisfying to discover new ways in which one can play with language.

I've always been like this. I started reading books that were well ahead of where I was "supposed" to be as a kid, so by the time I got to primary school I was reading things several "Levels" ahead of my peers and taking on considerably more challenging reading comprehension exercises. By the top end of primary school, I was busting out words like "antidisestablishmentarianism" and "floccinaucinihilipilification" in the morning Daily Spellings session in Class Four, and being able to correctly use them in a sentence.

I apparently once also terrified my parents by, one day, aged maybe three or four, coming down the stairs and immediately quoting the beginning of Genesis to them. In this particular instance, it was not a "reading" thing — I hadn't been secretly ploughing through the Bible in between episodes of the Mr. Men — but rather a quotation from a cartoon I had recently watched on video. I guess it's connected, though; I had found the whole "In the beginning…" speech striking, so I wanted to deliver it in my own childish way. That's still a way of playing with language, just using the spoken word and listening instead of reading and writing.

The concept of "BookTok" makes me angry. It is completely beyond me exactly how anyone thought a community of people who make short-form attention-deficit videos online were ever going to come out with anything particularly worthwhile to say about a medium that rewards taking your time and drinking things in. And the very term "book influencer" makes me bristle. We never should have accepted the marketers' insistence than "influencer" is a valid job description. It's disgustingly dystopian, particularly since "influencer marketing" is now an established part of promoting any sort of product online.

I love language. I love reading, and I love writing. It makes me by turns sad and furious that, in the space of a generation or two, we appear to be losing all respect for the written word. Just the other day, I saw someone online earnestly recommending that anyone who wanted to spend their time talking about a favourite topic should "just become a TikToker" rather than starting a blog. I bit my tongue at the time because I couldn't be arsed to start a fight, but it just made me feel weary more than anything.

What are we doing? It almost feels like a deliberate attempt to siphon all the "culture" out of society, perhaps in an attempt to ensure that none of us step out of line or express any sorts of "dangerous" opinions.

Funny, I think there are a few books about that…

If you want this nonsense in your inbox every day, please feel free to subscribe via email. Your email address won't be used for anything else.