2480: Too Much Information

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I listened to Dave Gorman’s audiobook Too Much Information the other day. I’ve been a fan of Dave Gorman’s intelligent comedy ever since I first saw his shows The Dave Gorman Collection and Googlewhack Adventure.

Gorman is a comedian who likes to use facts and evidence to back up the things he is talking about. In The Dave Gorman Collection, in which he travelled around the world seeking out other people called Dave Gorman, he took photographs of every meeting and recorded all manner of stats about his journey. In Googlewhack Adventure, in which he sought out people who had authored Googlewhacks — two-word search terms for which there is only a single result on Google — he again took copious notes and documentary evidence of his journey.

Too Much Information is one of Gorman’s most modern works, taking a look at the modern world and the sheer amount of noise we have to put up with on a daily basis. As you can probably imagine if you’ve been following me for a while, this sort of thing is right up my alley.

Gorman covers a variety of topics throughout Too Much Information, including beauty adverts with hilariously poor survey results in the small print at the bottom of the screen — one product had just 47% of its (admittedly small) sample agree that it was worthwhile — and misleading newspaper headlines. He also looks at how misinformation can spread throughout social media, and has a good rant about some of his favourite bugbears, such as “greatest hits” albums that have all-new tracks on them, and services such as Spotify assuming that we always want to be sharing everything we do with the rest of the world, even if it’s listening to The Wombles.

Too Much Information resonated with me a great deal, and it’s a book well worth getting hold of in one form or another. It worked well as an audiobook, as the whole thing is written in Gorman’s trademark “storytelling” style of comedy, which lends itself well to being recorded, but I can see it working just fine on paper, too.

While you’re on, if you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing Dave Gorman’s past work, do take the time to check out The Dave Gorman Collection, Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure and his most recent series on Dave, Dave Gorman’s Modern Life is Goodish. It’s a style of comedy that, so far as I’m aware, is unique to Gorman, and it’s particularly entertaining for those of us who enjoy facts and figures to go along with our funny words. His “Found Poems” in Modern Life is Goodish, constructed entirely of Internet comments sections, are particularly entertaining, and a good reminder of what a bizarre and ridiculous age we live in these days.

1796: Read Me a Story

Since I was getting really quite frustrated with my daily commute to and from work — there is no good time of the day where you can set out and head back without getting caught in a traffic jam with seemingly no cause — I decided to try something a bit different with my audio entertainment for said journey.

Rather than listening to the radio, with its same five adverts and playlist of approximately twelve songs, or the same albums on my phone over and over again, I decided to listen to some audiobooks.

I’ve listened to audiobooks a few times over the years, most recently when I was in the habit (that I should probably get back into) of taking a long walk most days. They provide a good accompaniment to tedious activities like walking or driving, and I’ve found they’ve had a positive effect on my mood overall, even when the M27 is at its most frustrating. The fact that I can tune out the fact I’m moving at approximately 15mph on a road designed to be travelled along at 70mph+ and instead concentrate on an unfolding narrative is pleasurable, and getting to spend more time immersing myself in a story becomes nice rather than frustrating.

The audiobooks I’ve been listening to most recently belong to a genre I haven’t read a lot of in the past: crime fiction. I can’t remember how I first came on to the Kay Scarpetta series by Patricia Cornwell, but I’ve been enjoying them so far: I’m currently about a third of the way through the third book.

For the unfamiliar, the Kay Scarpetta series follows the eponymous heroine, the chief medical examiner for Virginia, and her obligatory “buddy” cop Pete Marino. The two have an enjoyable working relationship and rapport with one another, Kay being rather sensible for the most part — with occasional lapses in judgement and a tendency to attract the main villain of each book to cause some sort of dramatic final confrontation in the closing chapters — and Marino being brash, outspoken and not always entirely tactful.

The stories are interesting when compared to other crime fiction I’ve encountered — be it in books, on TV, in games or in movies — in that the main focus isn’t on the police investigation, the work of an agent on the case or a private investigator. Rather, Kay is essentially a civilian, albeit one with access to information about the corpses that show up in each novel that the public would probably rather not know about. This doesn’t stop her ending up embroiled deep in the mysteries, however, and indeed it’s usually her actions that, if they don’t outright solve the case altogether, certainly put into motion a chain of events that draws the main villain out of hiding (and usually into Kay’s bedroom) in order to be caught and/or killed.

They’re formulaic and somewhat predictable at times, in other words, but they’re filled with interesting characters, and the narrator for the audiobook versions, one Lorelei King, does an admirable job at putting on unique voices for the different characters — even if all her “male” voices tend to end up sounding terribly serious about everything they say… or perhaps this is a side-effect of Cornwell’s male characters?

Anyway. I’m enjoying the experience of listening to audiobooks, and I’ve been enjoying discovering a series of entertaining crime novels in the process. There’s plenty more where that came from, too, so I should be kept reasonably sane on my journeys to and from work for the immediate future, at least…

1530: 50 BC

Over the intervening years since leaving home, I’ve either discarded or left behind a lot of the trappings of childhood. But one of the things that has constantly travelled with me is my modest collection of Asterix books — by no means complete, not by a long shot, but consisting of a number of adventures I occasionally like to revisit.

For those unfamiliar with Asterix — I’m not sure how well known it is these days — it was (is?) a series of full-length comic book stories based in the era of the Roman occupation of Gaul, circa 50 BC. Originally composed by French duo Goscinny and Uderzo and subsequently translated into a variety of different languages around the world, the stories combine a certain degree of real-life ancient history with material that is played purely for laughs to ridiculous effect. Central to all the stories are the eponymous protagonist Asterix, a cunning Gaul who is usually entrusted with his village’s most important matters, and his overweight, somewhat dim friend Obelix who fell into a cauldron of magic potion as a baby and was consequently blessed with permanent superhuman strength.

The books range from relatively small-scale adventures in which Asterix and his friends defend the village from the Roman encampments that surround them to grand adventures that see the indomitable Gauls heading off to places such as India and the Middle East. Elements of sci-fi and fantasy — usually in the form of magic — are incorporated into some of the later books, but the emphasis is always on vaguely plausible but ridiculous situations that poke fun at modern society through the lens of ancient Roman times.

A particularly identifiable characteristic of the English translations — I can’t speak for the other languages — is the sheer number of utterly cringeworthy puns used throughout, usually in the form of character names. Asterix and Obelix are pretty self-explanatory, but they’re joined by village chief Vitalstatistix, druid Getafix, blacksmith Fulliautomatix, fishmonger Unhygienix, bard Cacofonix and numerous others. The female Gaulish characters have similarly unsubtle names — Vitalstatistix’s wife is called Impedimenta, for example — as do the Romans, who usually have amusing Latin names of some description. One story features a centurion called Cumulo Nimbus, for example, while another features an athletic legionary called Gluteus Maximus.

The books are filled with visual gags, too, not just in the panels’ artwork, but in elements such as typesetting and fonts, too. An Egyptian adventure in which Asterix and friends visit Cleopatra, for example, features a number of sequences in which Egyptian characters “speak” in hieroglyphics, for example, while in Asterix and the Great Crossing, which sees Asterix and Obelix initially accidentally discovering America and subsequently coming into contact with some Viking explorers on the way home, the language barrier between the Gauls and the Vikings is represented by the latter adding stereotypically “Scandinavian” punctuation to the things they’re saying. It’s a visual equivalent of the TV series Allo Allo representing characters speaking in different languages through different accents, essentially.

What I’ve been most surprised about on this most recent revisiting of the few Asterix books I do own is the fact that they hold up very well despite, in some cases, dating back to the 1960s. Not all humour ages terribly well and indeed there are certain elements of the Asterix books that clearly come from a, shall we say, somewhat unenlightened age, particularly when it comes to depictions of people of non-white races, but to be honest, there’s a certain appeal to the fact that the early books in particular just don’t give a toss about political correctness and end up being often darkly hilarious as a result.

I’ve never got around to expanding my collection since leaving home, but I’ve now read the few Asterix books I do own so many times to know them pretty much inside out. Perhaps I should look into getting some of the ones I’ve never read — if these ones hold up well enough, then it’d be a pleasure to read some completely new ones that I don’t know at all.

#oneaday Day 995: Cultural Victory

Can you have too much culture? Can the sum of human creative endeavours add up to too much for someone to take in?

Well, first of all, those are two different questions. The answer to the second one, at least, is “yes”; the former? I’m not so sure.

We’re already at a point where there is so much Stuff in the world it’s impossible to keep on top of it all. Whatever media you’re into, be it books, movies, TV shows, music or games, there’s enough Stuff out there to keep you entertained probably for the rest of your life in just one of those formats, let alone if you, like most people, spread your time between several. Even if you spend your time focusing entirely on one genre within a single medium, you’ll never get to the bottom of the pile. You’ll never “finish” culture. You’ll never see everything there is to see.

Depending on your outlook, this is either a fantastic thing or incredibly depressing news. For many, there’s a degree of “shame” over not having caught up on things that are supposedly “canonical” or “essential” for everyone to have read/seen/played/whatever. The very term “pile of shame” (from which the Squadron of Shame takes its name) is used to refer to one’s backlog of entertainment that has been purchased but not consumed — or, in some cases, the definition is stretched a little to include Stuff that the owner of said pile intends to consume at some point in the future, but perhaps hasn’t quite got around to just yet.

With books, it’s fine. Books are passed down from generation to generation; republished and republished. Today, we can keep a book alive forever by converting it to a digital format and scattering it to the four corners of the Internet. Sure, you lose some of the joy of turning paper pages and that distinctive musty smell they have, but at least the important bit — that’s the work printed on those pages, lest you forget — is immortalised. You can read it on your computer; on your tablet device; on your e-reader; on your phone. You can annotate it and share your thoughts with other people around the world in an instant. Books are just fine.

Music, too, has proven itself to be pretty timeless over the years — for the most part, anyway. Throughout history there has been plenty of “disposable” music, but the true greats endure for years. Look how long the works of Bach and Mozart have lasted — people are still listening to, performing and studying these pieces hundreds of years after they were first composed. In more recent years, look at how the music of artists such as Elvis Presley and the Beatles is still interesting and relevant today. In very recent years… well, it remains to be seen which artists (if any) will leave a lasting legacy on culture, but there will almost certainly be some. (And if there’s any justice, it won’t be anyone who has ever won or been involved with The X-Factor.)

Movies, too, have become increasingly timeless with the improvements in technology over the years. While once a movie only lasted as long as the medium on which it was physically printed, now, like books, we can archive and keep movies forever. Sure, some moviemaking techniques now look antiquated and are unpalatable to modern audiences, but those truly interested in the full history of the medium can trawl back as far as they wish and see how it has developed.

Games, though, are arguably a bit more tricky, as they have an inherent “expiry date” due to the numerous proprietary technologies involved. While emulation technology is getting better all the time, it’s still not perfect, and the legal grey areas surrounding it make it something that some people prefer to shy away from altogether. When you consider “PC” games, too, there’s even titles that are ostensibly on the same platform that will no longer run on more modern technology. Fortunately, there are places like GOG.com who aim to keep these titles alive for modern audiences, but eventually even their remastered, tweaked versions will “expire” as technology makes the next big leap forward. What happens when computers become wearable and we don’t use TVs any more? Will we still be able to play classic titles designed for the flat screen?

With all this, it’s easy to wonder how you can possibly get through all those things that you’re “supposed” to watch/read/see. The answer is surprisingly simple: don’t. Accept the fact that you’re never going to read Great Expectations; you’re never going to see Citizen Kane; you’re never going to listen to anything by The Smiths; you’re never going to get caught up on the Assassin’s Creed series. Cherry-pick the stuff you’re interested in, finish what you start, and don’t feel obliged to jump in to things just because they’re brand new and everyone is talking about them right now. Get to them when you have time to appreciate them rather than rushing through them in the ultimately futile attempt to feel “relevant”.

Crucially, enjoy (or at least appreciate) the culture you consume, whatever medium it’s in. Your tastes are your own, and no-one has the right to try and change them. People can share their own opinions, sure, and these may help sway your thoughts one way or the other, but ultimately your feelings about the things you like and dislike are entirely up to you. There’s no “correct” opinion; no gold standard of cultural awareness you need to aspire to; no “checklist” to complete. The sooner you recognise this fact, the sooner you can get on with working your way through that “pile of shame” — because there’s some great stuff in there that you haven’t discovered yet. And the stuff that is shiny and new right now will still be here in a few years time.

Take your time. Enjoy it. It’s the least you can do for the people who have invested their time, money, blood, sweat and tears into entertaining you.

#oneaday Day 729: Stop SOPA, Read Books

So apparently a bunch of the Internet has blacked itself out in protest against the insanity that is SOPA. It’s a move that I fully support and endorse, as SOPA is a piece of crap that, while (arguably) well-intentioned, is completely impractical with the digital world we take for granted today.

That’s all I’m going to say on the politics of the matter for the moment, since there are plenty of other commentators out there who can doubtless discuss it in much greater detail than me. As a Brit, too, I’m not someone who will be directly affected by the law, but as we all know by now, the proposed measures will have a knock-on effect that could throw the whole online world out of balance.

What I wanted to talk about was how Wikipedia’s blackout has affected the stupid people of the world. Not sure what I’m talking about? Give @herpderpedia a follow on Twitter and you’ll quickly see what the problem is.

Wikipedia is an excellent and useful resource, of that there can be no doubt. But the level to which people have come to rely on it is perhaps a little worrying. To some people, it’s almost as if Wikipedia is the only source of information. (People who think this are probably the same people who believe that Facebook is “the Internet”)

There are, however, many more sources of information in the world than Wikipedia. Many more sources of information in the world than the Internet, for that matter. (Engage Old Fart mode) When I was at school, we had no Internet. Imagine that, you teenage morons! No Internet! If I got a bit of homework to “research” something, then I had to pick up an actual book and look through it. I had to know my alphabet well enough to look stuff up, and I had to know how to spell the thing I was looking up. Dark times? Not really, it was the norm; we accepted it. When the Internet came along, it was a source of information in addition to the knowledge we had in books, not a replacement. When I presented that homework to the class, it was written in my own words, showing my understanding. It wasn’t a printout from Wikipedia.

And yes, when I worked as a teacher, on more than one occasion (more than ten, in fact) I received homework from students who thought that I wouldn’t recognise a printout from Wikipedia. It showed absolutely no understanding on their part besides the most basic of net-savviest — an important skill in today’s society, for sure, but not what I was looking for with the assignments in question.

Technology breaks. Open forms of media are unreliable. Every so often someone will come along and want to censor things. I’m not saying books are immune to these issues, but at least you can still read them when the power goes off.

SOPA sucks. Fortunately, it looks like it might not get through — though we’re still a long way off victory at this time. Instead of bitching about not being able to cheat at your homework, try opening one of those dusty old books on your shelf and looking up the thing you want to know more about.

Magic, isn’t it? Knowledge without electricity. Who would have thought it?

#oneaday Day 723: The Escapist

Escapism is cool, and an important and valid method of keeping yourself sane.

There are, of course, many means of escapism, and different ones are more or less effective for different people.

There’s the escapism of a child giving life to the inanimate lumps of plastic they own. Without a child, they’re just potential, models, things to be looked at, without life. Add a child (or, more specifically, someone still in possession of their childish imagination) and something magical happens — those objects come alive, engaging in battles to save the galaxy; heroic adventures; or even just a normal day in a normal street.

Then there’s the escapism of a good book. Good readers also have one of the most important qualities of a good creative writer: that active imagination again. But it’s partly also down to the writer to create a convincing world, compelling characters and a reason for the reader to commit part of their life to staring at tiny print on paper, e-ink or an LCD display. You know a writer’s done their job properly if you can hear the characters’ voices, see the places they’re in, picture the things they’re doing. And as a reader, your interpretation and mental imagery might not be the same as the writer (or indeed the person who designed the book’s cover) — but that doesn’t make it any less valid.

There’s the escapism of interactive entertainment. Instead of passively observing an unfolding story, you become a part of it. It doesn’t have to be an explicit narrative as such — a long game of Civilization tells a story just as much as a chapter of Heavy Rain. The meaning the player chooses to assign to the experience is what makes interactive entertainment special.

There’s the escapism of film. Increasingly designed as memorable spectacles these days, a good movie plunges its audience into darkness before casting them into a whole new world. It could be a world of giant robots; of CIA agents; of lads on a pulling holiday. For those couple of hours, though, the outside world ceases to matter.

There’s the escapism of a good TV show. When you find a show that resonates with you, you want to stick with those characters, to find out what makes them tick, what they want, what they find challenging. You cheer for their successes, feel bad when they encounter adversity. And given the amount of time you spend with the cast of a TV show over an average run of a moderately successful show these days, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that the cast might feel like “friends” by the time you’re through.

And there’s the escapism of music. Music is a powerful imaginative stimulus, but again it means different things to different people. For one person it might stir up dormant memories. For another it might encourage them to close their eyes and picture themselves in a whole new situation. For yet another it might have an emotional impact that reflects the things that are weighing on their mind at that moment in time. And for others still it might inspire them to push forward, to do their best, to power on through and do that extra set at the gym, or put in that extra bit of effort at homework.

All this isn’t even getting into what it means to be a creator as opposed to a consumer of all the above media, either.

The fact is, the world can be, at times, a bit of a sucky place. Having something comforting to escape into, whatever form that escapism might take, is important. No-one likes to feel trapped, so even if it’s only for a short while, escape into something awesome and return to the real world refreshed, invigorated and ready to tackle any challenges it might want to throw at you.

And if you don’t have anything like that? Then you need to have more fun.

#oneaday Day 595: Life Expectancy

I forgot to blog about a book I read while I was away in Germany, and that is Life Expectancy by Dean Koontz, recommended to me by one Jeff “Feenwager” Parsons. Such was the impact that said book clearly had on our Jeff, if you happen to have him on your Xbox Live friends list and then start reading this book, you’ll likely have the same reaction as I did.

But anyway. Enough about Jeff and his Gamertag — what about the book?

It was a great read. It helped a great deal that the book was narrated by a likeable character who was honest about when narrating things which took place at different times didn’t quite make sense — how could he possibly remember what was happening when he was born, for example? In fact, the whole cast of the book was made up of strong characters, from our protagonists to some of the more minor people who had a role to play in the story.

The structure was interesting, too — for those unfamiliar with the novel, it’s centred around one Jimmy Tock, who entered the world just as his grandfather departed it. Said grandfather came out with a series of chilling predictions on his deathbed, which Jimmy’s life then begins to revolve around. We join the tale after four out of the “five terrible days” have already taken place, so there’s some tension as Jimmy narrates the events, but we at least know that he’s going to be all right — until we reach the last one, that is.

Jimmy, it has to be said, is a bit of a joker and there are at least two occasions in the novel where he outright lies to the reader only to come back with the literary equivalent of “lol jk” at the start of the next chapter. Unreliable narrators are one thing, but having a narrator who outright lies to you is a new one on me. It elevated the prose somewhat above the usual fare you get with first-person narration — it was more like someone actually talking to you. Pretty cool.

I enjoyed the novel a great deal, in other words — and I’m consciously trying not to give away any spoilers here. It was a thrill ride that kept me interested from start to finish. I’d never read anything by Koontz before, but my good experience with this piece is enough to make me interested to try some of his other stuff.

As always, if anyone has any recommendations along those lines, do feel free to let me know.

#oneaday Day 592: Little Miracles

I finished another book… well, ebook today. I shouldn’t really make that distinction because a book’s a book whatever medium it might be “printed” on — or perhaps it might be more accurate to say “a novel’s a novel”.

Anyway, I read a second book by Giselle Green as I rather enjoyed Pandora’s Box, despite its slightly convoluted ending. Also, like Pandora’s Box, it was only 99p on iBooks. I’m all for the bargain hunting, especially when I’ve just blown a large chunk of cash on the deposit for the house I’m writing this to you from.

Anyway. Little Miracles tells the story of Julia and Charlie, and their young son Hadyn. Julia is a stay at home mother, having given up a career, while Charlie is a plastic surgeon who does charity work, particularly with African kids whose faces have been disfigured by a disease I can’t remember the name of.

A short distance into the book, Hadyn disappears. (That isn’t a spoiler — it’s plastered all over the novel’s blurb as the central premise of the story.) The remainder of the tale explores Charlie and Julia’s different attitudes towards the tragedy as they attempt to come to terms with the possible death of their son.

Structurally it’s very similar to Pandora’s Box, jumping back and forth between the dual perspectives of Charlie and Julia, both of whom are well-defined, interesting characters with their own backgrounds which come to light throughout the course of the story. And, like its predecessor, it’s in possession of a somewhat frustrating ending, albeit for slightly different reasons.

This doesn’t diminish the fact that it’s once again a highly readable book based on in depth explorations of Charlie and Julia in particular — but through them we find out plenty about the supporting cast, too. Ironically, the only character who doesn’t get fleshed out much is Hadyn, but since he’s under the age of two there’s only so much you can say beyond “he likes his cuddly elephant called Bap-Bap.”

It’s a well paced book — perhaps slightly too long if I’m honest — and eminently readable. Green’s prose flows well and she has a skill for writing in markedly different voices when narrating from the perspectives of different characters. By the end of the story, Charlie and Julia are like old friends — a good way to be given the lengthy journey the reader is expected to take with them. Both have their own tragic flaws, and both come to terms with the situation in their own way. It’s interesting to “watch” — though at times frustrating as you will the pair of them to communicate more.

All in all, though, it was an excellent read and one I’m glad I took the time (and the vast expense) to read. While it won’t appeal to those who need a little more sex/murder/explosions in their novels, it’s a compelling tale that tugs at the heartstrings without being overly melodramatic.

#oneaday Day 572: Book ‘Em, T and the MGs… No Wait, That’s Wrong

I read a book over the course of the last couple of days. I like reading a lot, though I haven’t made a lot of time for it recently — it’s something you very much have to be in the right mood for, especially given the length of a lot of modern novels.

I’m glad that I’ve got back into it, though, and I have technology to thank for it — I have now officially read a whole eBook (or iBook if you want to be pedantic about it) on a portable device (my iPhone) and discovered that it’s a not altogether unpleasant experience. In fact, it’s actually rather convenient — it’s a lot easier to get comfortable when reading in bed holding a phone whose pages won’t flop all over the place or fall out if you lie in a weird position, lighting isn’t a problem with a backlit screen (unless you’re in the bright sunshine, but I generally prefer to read indoors) and, crucially, you don’t have to remember where you put the book down in order to carry on reading because you probably have your phone with you anyway. (It’s also nice to be able to see how many pages are left in a chapter without having to do that “flicking forward while carefully trying not to look at any of the words on the page in case there are OMG SPOILARZ on them” thing.)

The book I read was called Pandora’s Box by an author called Giselle Green. It was apparently the debut of this author, who has since been referred to as “the British Jodi Picoult”. I’ve heard Picoult’s name before but am not familiar with her work, so I was coming into this pretty blind, but the concept sounded intriguing, so I downloaded the sample (which turned out to be substantial enough to get me hooked, and then the full book was only 99p anyway) and got reading.

The story resolves around 40something mother Rachel and her 14 year old daughter Shelley. Rachel’s life is a bit of a mess — her husband’s left her, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing with her life and, most importantly, her daughter has a debilitating (and conveniently non-specific) disease that may or may not be something to do with MS. Despite this, she manages to remain upbeat and strong even in the most adverse conditions — her wheelchair-bound daughter, meanwhile, is mature, headstrong and stubborn.

Unfolding from the perspectives of both Rachel and Shelley, the story tells the tale of the days leading up to Shelley’s fifteenth birthday — the day Shelley has decided that she is going to take her own life in order to be free from the pain and suffering she witnessed a friend with the same condition go through a year earlier. It’s a tale based largely around characters, and Green creates some distinct, memorable personas to take us through the narrative. Rachel and Shelley themselves both have their own private issues which they let the reader — and sometimes no-one else — in on. But the supporting cast are strong too — Rachel’s obnoxious ex-husband being a particularly prominent example, being a character you really want to take a swing at at the first available opportunity.

It’s a real page-turner — the story unfolds at a good pace throughout, and each chapter is short enough to make you think “well, maybe I’ll just read on a bit…” before noticing that you’re actually halfway through the whole thing. It’s not perfect, of course; remaining spoiler-free, I’ll simply say that the ending is a little contrived, being made up of a series of events that are all a little too convenient given the realistic nature of the rest of the book. And the supposedly central theme — that of the titular “Pandora’s Box” (in this case being a box of knick-knacks and memories from Rachel’s eloping mother) and the Miseries within — is perhaps a little underused, or perhaps even inappropriate. Rachel is forced to come to terms with some past “evils” which had been left buried for many years, and Shelley is the catalyst for her eventual revelations, but the theme seems a little “forced” and I feel the story would have been better without this particular angle.

Minor gripes aside, the book was immensely enjoyable and I’m keen to have a look at Green’s other work — if this was her debut novel, perhaps she hones her craft to a finer point in her later titles. We shall see!

#oneaday, Day 217: “Book? LOL!”

I forget the exact circumstances of when I came across the quote in this post’s title. It may have been on some form of social networking website, or dating site, or something like that. But it was a good few years back now.

The context of the quote was in one of those sections you get on pretty much all online profiles that asks you to list your favourite music, films, TV shows and books. This person’s favourite books were listed as “book? lol”.

That struck me as rather sad, but perhaps a little unsurprising given the general attention span of most people these days. Why sit down with a book which delays gratification and requires active use of the brain when you can be immediately bombarded with information via TV and the Internet?

It’s an age-old argument of course, and one which has probably been running ever since every new information-giving technology came along. However, it seems particularly ironic in the context of the Internet, given that much of it is, in fact, text. Sure, there are pretty pictures and buttons that fart when you click on them and pornography, but it’s still fundamentally built on text. You’re reading text right now. Is your head hurting yet?

The fact that everyone has a voice on the Internet is one of those things that is debatable as to whether it is a Good Thing or not. But as part of having that voice, everyone has the opportunity to give their thoughts and expand on them as much as they want to. The sad thing is, though, in many cases, people don’t feel like they have the time to read (or write) a full, well-considered argument. Instead, they denounce it as a “wall of text” and choose not to read it.

It happens in video games, too. A friend of mine once said that he couldn’t get through Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney because there was “too much reading”. It’s a game about a lawyer. I’m not sure what else he was expecting.

As a writer, as someone who crafts language and bends it to my will in the name of pretentiousness, self-expression, catharsis and humour, this is sad. The English language is a powerful tool that can say many things. As, indeed, are other languages. But it seems that for many these days, the priority is for quick, snappy, “efficient” communication. And sure, there are situations in which this is entirely appropriate. But I say that shouldn’t be the norm. People shouldn’t be afraid to speak their mind in as much length as they wish.

My mind is particularly drawn to the early days of the Squadron of Shame. Long before we started producing our podcast, we ran lengthy discussion threads on a variety of games on 1up.com’s Radio forum. We’d started as a result of one of the 1up Radio features, so that was our spiritual home. Many of the people who populated that forum were articulate sorts who agreed with my thoughts above, so there were plenty of like-minded individuals there who enjoyed taking part in our discussions and posting their own “walls of text”.

But one day, the Powers That Be at 1up decided that it would be a great idea to merge all the forums into “Games” and “Not Games”. This meant that lengthy, in-depth discussion threads from groups such as the Squadron were crammed into the same space as “OMG HALO IS BETTR THAN KILZONE”. Naturally, this led to problems. In one of the last discussions we had on those boards—on the subject of the peculiar PS2 game Psi-Ops—the posting was almost immediately derailed by a particularly notorious troll who posted “OMG FUCKING MASSIVE WALL OF TEXT” in giant red letters. Said “wall of text” was maybe six or seven paragraphs long and was interesting to read, but as soon as troll boy showed his face, the discussion went off track, not helped by many people (including myself) rising to his bait.

It’s a pity that to some people the desire to speak in detail, at length and to produce a coherent argument is seen as a negative thing. Personally I would have thought that a forum—by its very nature an asynchronous method of communication in which people can take their time to consider their responses—was the ideal environment in which to have these lengthy discussions. But apparently not.

This is perhaps an unnecessarily negative picture, of course. There are still people who read books. There are still people who like to post more than five words at a time. There are still people who don’t decide to ignore all the rules of spelling, punctuation and grammar “just because it’s the Internet”—who came up with that stupid idea, anyway? It’s just a pity that, at times, they seem to be declining in number.

Oh well. If you read through all that, you can count yourself amongst the élite!