London Film and Comic-Con 2011 (7,8,9 July)

***My extremely timely thoughts on this! (This post was saved as a draft ages ago)

I had heard that there was a Comic Con in London a while ago but never got round to looking in to it. It was apparently not high profile enough to be newsworthy, even within geek circles. A few weeks ago though I chanced upon an advert for it in Empire magazine mere days before it was scheduled to start. Needless to say, I made time to attend!

As predicted, it was a relatively low key affair but there was enough to see and experience to make the trip worthwhile. There were several stages set up, with the main one featuring talks and QA sessions with actors such as Brent Spiner, Christopher Lloyd, and Karen Gillan of Doctor Who fame. The snippets of talks that I caught were the typical QA affairs where you learn nothing surprising or new. Brent Spiner - whose session I caught the most of - was very lively and engaging and drew a large crowd.

There were other smaller stages featuring talent shows, auctions, and demonstrations of costuming and film fighting (among others). The majority of the floorspace in the hall was taken up by myriad stalls whose purpose was to sell you stuff. 'Stuff' ranged from toys and comic books through to prop replicas and movie memorabilia.

There was a large area dedicated to celebrity autograph acquisition, an activity in which I did not partake (don't see the point, especially when prices seemed to start at £10 for the lesser known 'stars'). There were a few relatively big names present that set geek pulses racing, such as the aforementioned Spiner, though the biggest draw by far was Christopher Lloyd, who commanded long queues the whole time I was there. There were also photo booths tucked away in a couple of places where you could have your photo taken with your chosen celeb (for a price, of course).

I was struck by how many, umm, less well known celebrities were around. I felt a little sorry for some of them sitting there, expectantly or morosely waiting for an autograph hunter to come along. I suppose for some of these guys the convention tour is an important part of their livelihood. It does reek of desperation, but then again, there must be some kind of market for this to make it worthwhile for these guys to show up.

The remainder of the floor space was taken up by workshop areas teaching things like comic book art styles (for instance). There were a few random attractions there as well, such as the sixties Batmobile and the Delorean from Back to the Future, as well as a Nintendo area where games were being demoed.

The one element that really made the event were the crowds, who turned out in droves. True to form, most of the audience was young and male but not as massively skewed as I had imagined based on most observable geek demographics! The hall was fairly crowded throughout (and a little stuffy as a result) and most people seemed to be enthusiastic and having a good time. There were many people in costume, including the serious cosplayers, which really enlivened the whole place and elevated it beyond the typical bland trade show type event.

I'm not sure I'd attend this again as it is very commercial in nature and much of it does not appeal to me beyond the level of curiosity (which has now been sated). Having said that I did enjoy the 4-5 hours I spent there and would recommend it to the geeky and the curious.

Hands On (Part 4) - Blood, Guts, and Wool

Continued from here, here, and here.

"Ammi, I have something to tell you. You're not going to like this." he almost whispered.

He nodded at the sheep with an air of familiarity and, after taking a deep breath, stated loudly and with affected confidence, "That sheep is staring at me because...  we have a history."

Taken aback, she too stared at him; his eyes were now transfixed by the pure white and woolly mammal before them. She glanced furtively at the sheep, which seemed equally transfixed by him. She looked from sheep to man and from man to sheep, and from sheep to man again, but already it was impossible to say which was which, so similar were their expressions and demeanour. A wave of nausea passed through her. "What do you mean [you fucking worthless cocksucker]?" she asked tentatively, half afraid of the horrors the answer would surely hold.

She noticed him cringe slightly and realized she'd had another uncontrolled outburst. "Please, please, please try to reign yourself in, just this once. This is really hard for me to say," he said huskily, his voice now bereft of false bravado. She nodded slowly, but both of them knew she couldn't control the outbursts any more than she could control the beating of her icy heart.

Not the real outbursts, at any rate.

What her son didn't know was that she milked her condition for all it was worth, dropping f-bombs with reckless abandon, safe in the knowledge that everyone would attribute it to Tourette's. She could sense, however, that this was a profound moment, and that her son was about to bare his soul. While swearing like a sailor had a soothing effect on her, she resolved to withhold any controllable expletives for the time being. Being somewhat responsible for his tormented childhood, she owed him that much, even if he was a fucking worthless cocksucker. "I'll try listening for once", she thought.

"You see, it's all clear to me now. Every second of my existence, every choice I have made, every seemingly random occurrence that has driven me down this one path instead of a myriad others, has led me to this moment." He paused, and then, maniacally, barked "This... is... DESTINY!" as his right leg kicked forward uncontrollably. He then paused once more, took another deep breath, and started recounting his sorry tale.

"I first met Fluffy eight years ago when she was just a lamb. This was when I spent the summer with pervy old Uncle Trendy in England", he began. Her mind reeled - FLUFFY? The word - nay, the NAME - reverberated in her mind, dulling her senses and drowning out the now nostalgia tinged drone of her son's voice. Fluffy. Fluffy. Fluffy. She could no longer look at his face. Nausea took hold again.

Her eyes flitted down and locked on to his hands, which were now firmly attached to the steering wheel by his vise-like grip. Oh, those hands, those tender hands. She despised almost everything about her son, but those hands - surely their perfection was proof of God's existence? She felt herself drifting away into what she called her 'serene space', an imaginary alternate reality where her son was a guitarist rock God who could make sweet sweet love to his guitar with those tender hands, a reality in which he had won the heart of a horny groupie.

Her serene space was unashamedly romantic and perfect, cheesy even, but so what? Reality was full of the mundane, like pullovers, and sheep, and pullovers with sheep on them. The serene space was bliss, its single disturbing aspect the fact that she invariably placed herself in the role of the horny groupie. While this disturbed her, it did so only slightly, and certainly not as much as she felt it ought to. Not enough for her to keep it a secret, at any rate.

Her son droned on, but now there was also a paradoxically palpable excitement to the drone that drew her out of her serene space and back to reality.

"By this point, my heart was beating fast with the fear and excitement coursing through me! I saw Fluffy then for the very first time, and in that moment, in that perfect moment... I no longer needed proof of God's existence!"

Dizzy, she tuned out for a moment, and when she tuned back in - "... need you to understand that my love for sheep isn't the issue here. The thing is, the military were experimenting on them, changing them, and the things Fluffy could do, they transcended my wildest dreams! It's wrong, but it felt so right!"

"I can't listen to this anymore [you sick wanker]!", she screamed. Her hollering was so loud that it almost drowned out the explosion. Almost. Fluffy had ceased to be fluffy or anything else for that matter, having been unceremoniously turned into a shower of blood, guts, and wool. The atmosphere was saturated with blood, leaving the world shrouded in a hellish red mist. Paralyzed by the sight, neither of them could so much as breathe. It was in that eerie moment they saw a figure walking towards them, Reservoir Dogs style, through the bloody haze.

The figure soon became recognizable. "In-[fucking]-conceivable!", she muttered. It was....

Over to N now.

Wisdom of the Crowds?

I've been hunting for a new mobile phone - having lost my old one - and have discovered, to my chagrin, that finding something that hits that sweet spot between price and functionality isn't as easy as I'd hoped. I'm not one of those people who is happy with a basic mobile that just does calls - I actually use some of the nifty little utilities like calendars and to do notes (a decent screen makes using these things easier as well!), and I like having a camera in my phone (hey, it's come in handy on several occasions!), so I have some basic requirements.

The thing that I've found off-putting is that every time I read a review for a phone, the comments section or the user submitted reviews are often all over the place. Once you read a few, you learn that the phone has great / mediocre battery life, has a good / crap screen, has an excellent / rubbish keypad, etc... it's amazing, because after reading such verbal diarrhea you end up being less sure about the damned thing than when all you had were an image and the specifications to go by! The fact is, user reviews or reviews by the masses seem to only be good at identifying when things fall into extreme categories - i.e. things that are either brilliant or absolutely rubbish. Things that fall into the grey area in between those extremes tend to have reviews so all over the place that they are often next to useless.

And then there are the so called 'expert' reviews, which are fairly good at presenting the facts but sometimes forget that certain products are targeted at consumers who aren't too concerned with having the best of everything. So, all too often a reviewer will talk about a low or medium end phone and criticize it in the way a guy who drives a Porsche might criticize your Toyota - these reviews will usually have pearls of wisdom like 'for a little bit more you could do better!'. Sadly, that argument applies to pretty much anything; while I'd surely like to get the best of the best, the constraints of this little thing I like to call reality dictate that I settle for something optimal. Unfortunately the genius advice of the type given by some spoiled reviewers is, like the wisdom of the crowds, quite useless when applied to reality.

Having said that, I'll still take the informed expert opinions over the peanut gallery ones nine times out of ten! At least real reviewers tend to be relatively literate!

Privacy of Your Mobile

I lost my mobile phone a while ago; fortunately it was several years old and a little battered, so I wasn't especially aggrieved by the loss [I was of course furious with myself and vowed to never wear the offending trousers, which don't have pockets nearly deep enough, again]. This may sound odd, but the thing that concerned me most was the data on the phone. The thought of some stranger going through my stuff was a little unsettling, and the possibility of that information being exploited concerned me. I needed to know how bad the damage was, so I wrote down a list of things on my phone that could be considered personal, sensitive, and private.

Now, I'm generally very careful when it comes to privacy and the like, so I was pleased and mostly unsurprised to find that there wasn't much on there to be worried about. There were photos, but all were inconsequential (yeah, I always delete the salacious ones!); I had notes and to do items, all inconsequential; I had some low priority passwords stored on it, but those were in an encrypted 'safe' application protected by a strong password. The phone book was mostly basic, I didn't have any details on most people besides their name and number, though for some people I had foolishly entered address and other details as well. Text messages were also a bit worrying because I couldn't remember what was there - plenty of frivolous personal stuff, but what about my SMS banking messages? Did the new possessor of my phone know my bank balance and account number? After mulling it over I felt fairly confident I hadn't used the service in a while.

The point of all this is, a mobile phone is an item easily lost that can potentially contain a load of information about you and people you know that you might not want in someone else's hands, if only because of the creepiness factor. Full names with birthdays, addresses, work details, and a few pieces of other personal info gleaned from text messages, and who knows what some unscrupulous person could do? Improbable perhaps, but still, not impossible. I'm relatively cautious, so I shudder to think about how much info the average person keeps on their phone that could be exploited!

Despite having been cautious, I'm still more than a little disappointed with myself for slipping up in a few areas. A phone is here today but might be gone tomorrow; it's the type of thing that can be lost in an instant in all manner of situations. So, from now on I've decided to adopt an absolute worst case scenario mentality and not store personal info on my phone unless absolutely necessary. Because, well, you can never be too safe... and besides, thinking about it, did I really need all that stuff on there in the first place*?

* Of course, it has to be stored somewhere, and this is something I've been pondering for a while now. Online storage makes information accessible anywhere with net connectivity (which is becoming increasingly ubiquitous), and you'd only have to worry about the reliability of the service provider and their privacy policy. Local copies on a personal computer are also relatively safe, though, imagine if someone stole your computer and looked through the contents of the hard drive?

Hot or Not?

This has been bugging me of late. I've seen it mentioned on several message boards and blogs that Sarah Palin is hot, often jokingly implying that this alone would get her votes despite the fact that she is woefully unqualified in virtually all other respects.

Erm, what? Has the hotness bar really fallen so low, or is there some kind of weird conspiracy to cement at least one 'positive' attribute with regard to this woman? Alright, she's fairly attractive, but why do so many people insist that she's hot? It does not compute!

(As an aside, Tina Fey is hot, despite the passing similarities between the two.)

Urinal Etiquette

I find it rather disturbing to frequently witness grown men undoing their belts and pulling down their pants when doing their business at a urinal. Seriously, it's just disturbing. And yes, I'm fairly certain it's not because their equipment is that unwieldy.

I think some people didn't get the memo about the usefulness of zippers.

Greatest Match Ever?

(Image from Wikipedia)


I finally got around to seeing the much talked about Wimbledon final between five time defending champion Roger Federer and third time (consecutive!) finalist Rafael Nadal. It has been hailed as one of the, if not the, greatest tennis matches ever played. I can't claim to have seen more than a mere handful of the great matches from tennis history so I'm not really qualified to comment on its relative merit, but as far as I'm concerned it is undeniably a classic. Right from the opening point the game is competitive, and the whole match is populated by lengthy rallies full of powerful and accurate groundstrokes.

It ended up being the longest men's final in Wimbledon history, justifying the pre-match hype where it was talked up as a historic confrontation by virtue of the caliber of the two players and the records that were at stake. Plus, it was seen as an unofficial battle for the crown of Number 1 player in the world and possibly an end to an era of tennis dominated by Federer. I'd say that in terms of being momentous and dramatic it is certainly the best match that I have ever seen; a true event match if ever there was one. But... but I'm not convinced that the tennis on display was the greatest ever.

Again, I may not be qualified to comment, but as a point of comparison I also recently watched the '93 Wimbledon final between Pete Sampras and Jim Courier. Now, this one isn't - as far as I'm aware - hailed as a classic, but the tennis was still exciting and varied. There were big serves, serve volleying aplenty, rallies, passing shots, drop shots, smashes, half vollies and even the occasional lob! Contrast this with the Nadal-Federer match, in which despite the excellent quality of play every point seemed to follow a very predictable pattern of hitting from the baseline. Five sets worth!

Don't get me wrong, it was a terrific match, and the quality of play was tremendous. I'm just a little sceptical about calling it the greatest match ever, at least in terms of the tennis that was played. The greatest match in terms of significance to the game and resultant drama, perhaps... I just think the media and commentators have a tendency to blow things out of proportion at any given opportunity, and it's a little early to name this one 'greatest ever'.

Checking the Time

It's been almost a month since my last post! Frak!

Sticking with the temporal theme of that opening sentence, I'm going to spend the rest of this post discussing my watch, which came into my possession just recently. I'm talking about the watch not because it's some ridiculously expensive timepiece that deserves a blog post dedicated to the fact that it adorns my wrist - it's a Casio with dual analogue and digital displays, and I think it's pretty cool - but because it's the first watch I've worn in nigh on half a decade.

The reason for this is fairly mundane - when my last watch (also a Casio, one that I had for over 11 years) broke, I decided that my mobile phone was sufficient for telling the time. During the last five years, whenever I needed to know what the time was I fished my mobile out from my pocket. Sounds inconvenient, but minor inconvenience is something you get used to pretty fast, plus I often found myself using oft unused alternative time sources like wall clocks, my computer's time display, and even other people's watches! After doing this for a while, I convinced myself that I'd never need another watch again.

This is not the first time I have been completely and utterly wrong (in truth, I've lost count!). My new watch was given to me as a gift, and I was initially quite sceptical about having it - after all, it was unnecessary! But after only a few hours of wearing the damned thing I realized how wrong I had been all those years. How the frak did I get by without a watch all that time? It's so easy; when you need to tell the time, you simply raise your arm a bit and glance downwards. Even a monkey can do it!

By now you may have gathered that I'm a fool at best, and perhaps even a retard. But folks, retarded or not I encourage you to relegate your cellphone to the status of call making device and let watches do your timekeeping for you! Even if wearing one means you end up silently cursing yourself every time your arm bumps into or grazes against something; routinely inspecting my watch for scratches seems to be my new weird idiosyncrasy!

A bizarre random post to end the blogging drought, one that promised to be about a watch but which ended up being about the act of wearing one (Christopher Walken was, sadly, unavailable). Hopefully the next post will be less nonsensical, and won't be such a long time coming!

Quantum of Solace - Proposed Theme Song

Genius...

Classics in Lego

This is just too awesome to not post. Classic photos recreated with Lego.

How Wude!

As Jar Jar Binks might put it. In a situation that felt like the beginning of something Kafkaesque, I was accosted by a saleswoman at the supermarket trying to push samples of some bloody biscuit. I hate these promotional people, so much so that when I see them standing in an aisle I'll reflexively pull away and return to that aisle later, when the coast is clear. This is partly because they can be nagging, irritating assholes, and partly because they sometimes look so desperate that I feel bad telling them I'm not interested.

Anyway, to get back on track, today as I'm heading for the cheese rack I see her out of the corner of my eye, waiting to pounce; it's too late to turn back without looking like a chump, so I change course slightly to walk in a wide arc around her. To a sane human, this ought to be a clear sign that I don't want biscuit samples, but this crazy woman just darts in front of me and starts telling me about this promotion. Politely as I can, I say no thank you, I'm not interested, and start to walk away, but she moves those first two steps with me and says, quite impudently, that I should just try a sample. I repeat, slightly more firmly, no thanks... and then it happens. The non smile she was supposed to be wearing disappears faster than Iraq's WMDs, her face turns as rigid as Skeletor's, and she gives me the coldest, freakiest glare one would hope never to behold in the dairy food section.

This supermarket Medusa's icy stare holds my upper body transfixed, unable to look away even as my legs continue walking, probably making me look like some kind of strange sideways walker or a deleted scene from 'The Exorcist'. She may have been the spawn of the Devil or Cthulu, looking at me as if my rejection of those biscuits was the greatest sin since the Original (TM). And then I finally tear my eyes away and scurry off to where the cheese is, out of sight of her accusing visage. I manage to later sneak back past her while she's busy accosting other customers.

AAAHHHH! My point is, can't a guy buy some cheese in peace anymore without having to go through this sort of bizarre, unnerving, and wholly unjustifiable treatment? How freakin wude!

A dog that's not for life

Holy shit. There's a dog rental service. I'm not sure why I'm surprised to be honest, but somehow the fact that this is really real is just... too much! Yes folks, you can rent dogs for walking and absolve yourself of all the real fun and responsiblity of having a canine companion in the first place! What possible satisfaction can one get out of this? Isn't this like dog prostitution or something?

Most hilarious is the woman who cycles through dogs depending on the occasion, probably in the same manner in which she cycles through shoes. Yet another stark reminder that there are sad sacks in the world desperately in need of a clue. I mean seriously, renting animal companionship to fill some kind of void in your pathetic life or as a status symbol? WTF?

What next, rent a baby? ...For all I know, it's already here.

Scotoma

A scotoma is "an area or island of loss or impairment of visual acuity surrounded by a field of normal or relatively well-preserved vision". In other words, a blind spot. And yours truly developed one a few weeks ago. My vision looked something like this:



Though, not as bad as in that picture. I had a light grey spot, not a black one. Thankfully, it's all but gone now thanks to the medication I was on (I'm still on some eyedrops and vitamins), but I have to confess it had me freaked out for a while there.

It appeared without warning one evening - it was the end of a particularly tiring day, and I sat down at my computer only to discover that everything was horribly blurred. I was marginally concerned, but put it down to tiredness and went to bed. It was, as I had hoped, better the next morning. In fact, I thought it had disappeared completely, but then I noticed that it was still a little difficult to read and that sometimes people's faces appeared blurred. Also, my eyes felt strained all the time. I still couldn't couldn't pin down what the real problem was, as it just seemed like slight irregular blurriness; I could still make things out clearly when I focused hard enough. Being the fool that I am, I thought I'd give it some time to go away on its own before seeing a doctor.

About a week later, I figured out what it was by chance. Incredibly, up to this point I hadn't tested each eye individually. Well, actually, I had but not with text. When trying to read with my right eye, I noticed that letters were horribly blurred. After a little experimentation, the grey spot suddenly stuck out like a sore thumb! When I blinked a black spot stood out for a fraction of a second before my eye apparently compensated for it (marvelous, eh?) and turned the spot grey. It was especially conspicuous when looking at white. Naturally, I googled the phenomenon and learned that it was called... a scotoma! At this point I was a little worried because it appeared that scotomas could be associated with all kinds of things - multiple sclerosis, tumours, brain injury - and some scotomas are apparently incurable. Needless to say, an urgent appointment with an eye specialist followed.

Have I mentioned that I'm paranoid? Probably. As you can imagine (or probably can't, actually), all kinds of nightmarish scenarios ran through my head, even though the rational part of me knew that, apart from the symptoms, I didn't have a clue about what was wrong. What if I needed surgery? What if it was permanent? Such were the thoughts that overwhelmed my fragile psyche. I'd rather lose a limb than an eye, or so I told myself while sitting outside the doctor's office. Actually, I still believe that - except for my right arm, which is quite useful (I know this last comment leaves me exposed to a very obvious joke, but so be it). After an interminable wait, it was finally my turn to see the doctor; following a brief examination using high powered lenses the doctor informed me that there was a swelling in my eye that was probably stress related, and that I should take the prescribed medication and take it easy for a while. I assured her that I wasn't stressed, but she seemed skeptical of my claims. Having dwelled on the notion for a while now, it occurs to me that perhaps I was fooling myself, because even though I don't have nearly as many problems as a lot of other people, I spend way too much time worrying about the ones I do have (and sometimes about ones I don't have). So it is entirely possible that I am, in fact, stressed.

Long story short, the medication alleviated the blurriness and strain within a few days, and the scotoma itself faded away to almost nothing after a couple of weeks. It seems to be all but gone now, though I have to continue treatment for a few more weeks. During my follow up visit I was assured by the doctor that it wouldn't recur and was also reminded once again about the importance of relaxing. Which is easier said than done!

Ah, the vicissitudes of life. I can't wait to see what curveball comes my way next. Actually, strike that - I can wait. I can wait a very, very long time, as a matter of fact...

THIS... IS...

SHHPARTAAAAAAAAAAA!!! Well, maybe not, but it's 300 posts since I started this blog in May 2006. And what better way to celebrate this significant number than by kicking someone into a bottomless pit while screaming at them in a Spartan Scottish accent?

Mercury Falling

I have a CFL bulb hanging over the top of my bed. When I lie on my back it sits right in the centre of my field of vision, suspended a few feet up and swayed slightly and ominously by the air currents created by the room's ceiling fan. The bulb is attached to a socket that literally hangs from a wire, as there is no proper fixture in the ceiling. I wonder sometimes whether the damn thing might fall on to my face; a CFL is after all heavier than your typical incandescent, and who knows how strong that socket and wire are?

And when I read articles like this one, I am reminded of the fact that these bulbs present more dangers than the usual glass shards when they break, because they contain tiny amounts of mercury. As the article points out, the EPA has a fairly involved set of instructions on what to do if a CFL breaks. It may be overkill and erring on the side of caution, but the paranoid part of me (i.e. most of me) would still freak out if one of these things broke, particularly if it smashed into my face! AAAAAAAAAGGGHHH, the mercury, it BURNSSSS!

And while the environmental and economic benefits of CFLs are clear, the possibility that we are trading in one problem for potentially another one down the line is worrying, especially if there is no good way to dispose of the darn things for most people. Despite this issue the consensus seems to be that the trade off is still well in favour of CFLs, but it just goes to show that there is no panacea. Unless those LED bulbs start to pan out...

Meanwhile, I'm going to get back to watching that confounded bulb sway to and fro. Only now I'll also wonder about the mercury getting into my bloodstream in addition to the whopping pain of it falling and striking me and the lacerations that the breaking shards of glass will bring with them.

Sleep

Been busy of late, with matters both professional and personal, foreign and domestic, and consequently haven't blogged much. One thing I can say after the last few days is that sleep is, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest thing ever. EVER. I slept 9 hours last night, another 3 hours during the day, and I'm still sleepy. If I just close my eyes now... Sweet blissful sleep... Have merc!

How can something so simple be so satisfying? It's a shame you have to sacrifice your time, and consequently your life, to get it. If one could just compress time while sleeping somehow... Hmm... time to get back to the lab Igor!

[comic book thought bubble] must... stay... awake! [/comic book thought bubble]

I must have some kind of massive sleep deficit I'm making up for... Maybe it's... zzzzzz....

Anonymous is for real

I saw this video recently where a group called 'Anonymous' claimed that they would destroy the Church of Scientology - that pseudo religious cult that seems way more evil and harmful than regular religions. I thought this was just a practical joke of sorts, but it turns out that these guys mean business. This Newsweek article offers some insight into the group (warning: there's a picture of Mad Tom Cruise in the article that may be harmful to your psyche), which has apparently been around for a few years and has a membership numbering in the thousands. And yesterday the groups members took to the streets in front of various Scientology centres around the world in peaceful protest. The BBC article's photos indicates that the protesters wore Guy Fawkes masks to protect their identities, creating a scene somewhat reminiscent of the climax of the excellent 'V for Vendetta'. Intriguing. It seems that 'Anonymous' started off their campaign last month with some illegal activities against Scientology but have now shifted to more civilized methods. I don't know if any of this will be effective, but I hope they succeed with their goals. And stick to legal activities.

People who break your stuff

Maybe I'm overly cautious, or maybe I'm just an asshole (probably both), but I tend not to lend stuff to people. And by stuff I mean stuff that can be easily broken or damaged... like DVDs. I'll admit it, sometimes I even lie about having stuff that people might want to borrow. Why, you might ask? Experience tells me that, apart from a few who are reliable and trusted, most people that borrow your stuff act like it's some freebie piece of junk they can use to play fetch with their dog. Or do something even more destructive with. I've had stuff of mine never returned or returned in an unusable state more often than I care to remember.

What I hate even more than getting something back like this are the lame excuses people come up with. I once lent a 'friend' a CD many years ago, which he returned in a really bad state - the thing was scratched like it had been taken back to medieval times and used as a shield in a jousting tournament. Needless to say, it didn't work anymore. My buddy was nonchalant and said it wasn't his fault as he had lent it to his cousin, who was probably the guilty party. His cousin! Well that made everything better, didn't it? Because when I lent it to him, I obviously meant for him to integrate it into his personal lending library! I guess it's a more original reply than the usual 'it must have been like that when you gave it to me' routine. Then there was that time someone ERASED over my VHS copy of Street Fighter the Movie - is there no decency???

Is it really that hard to not destroy things that other people have trustingly given you under the assumption that you won't treat it like you'd treat a Jar Jar Binks fan at a Star Wars convention? What the hell is up with people? I tend to be organized and take care of my stuff without tossing them here and there; I take even better care of things I've borrowed, because whoever gave it to me was doing me a favour, and it's the least I can do to repay their generosity.

So as a result of these bad experiences, these days I'm more miserly than I used to be. Whenever I do lend something to someone, I always make it explicit that I expect it back in good condition, meaning I don't expect the borrower to give it to their retarded brother-in-law to use as a teething instrument.

Yeah, I just needed to rant.

Outdoor Education

And by Outdoor Education I mean stuff like Outward Bound, which a lot of people have heard of. Having recently gone on such a programme, I can attest that it was indeed a ton of fun and lived up to expectations. The one I participated in involved a few team based activities on the ground - crossing a bunch of barrels and getting the team through a 'web' - that were followed by the fun stuff that involved strapping on a safety harness and performing activities a fair few feet above ground. Like crossing a stream on an elevated metal wire, or climbing a fairly high pole.

You end up doing stuff you wouldn't have imagined doing; granted, there is a safety wire, but truth be told until you experience the safety wire in action and realize that you're perfectly safe, it's still unnerving. After the first fall (actually, hardly anyone ever falls, but some events require that you be lowered with the safety wire), you gain enough confidence to move without constantly wondering what it feels like to fall from 20 feet up. The amazing thing is how virtually everyone ends up participating, even the people you would have doubted at the outset (like the relatively old or obese).

As for the educational aspect of it, yeah there's a bunch of stuff about how important teamwork is and the usual yadda yadda. Honestly though, the team building that takes place is not that much different from what happens when you play a sport. It's a load of fun and I guess you bond with your co-workers to an extent. As to how far it goes towards improving team work and work flow at the office... I remain to be convinced. A worthwhile experience though, leeches, stumbling around in the dark, fumbling around inside a tent, and all. Maybe for some groups it ends up having a long term effect on their work environments, and is genuinely 'educational'; for me, it was a perk, and a fairly good one at that.

Liquid Crystal Displays

I'll never buy another CRT based display. Ever. Unless I become destitute and can't afford anything better. My crummy old 17" CRT monitor decided to betray me yet again (it has its moods) by tinting the picture in yellow, permanently. Needless to say this was an unacceptable state of affairs; staring at a monitor teary eyed is generally not recommended, although it does happen often enough when I read those overly polite, cold, heartless, rejection e-mails. Sniff. But I digress! Instead of getting the old thing (it's not even that old) repaired, I decided an upgrade was in order, and got myself a nice shiny 19" widescreen LCD monitor. Did I mention it was shiny?

Long story short, I love it. It's no secret that I consume a lot of movies and tv shows (no really, I do!), and watching them on an LCD display is a revelation. I had no idea how dark and blurry and indistinct stuff looked on my old monitor! Now it's bright, vivid, and vibrant, and the picture is bigger thanks to the larger size and widescreen aspect ratio. The aspect ratio also allows for more screen real estate in general, which is great for reading webpages and stuff like spreadsheets, though a lot of websites are designed with a fixed width (like this blog!) that leaves half the screen wasted blank space. Text looks razor sharp, and pretty much everything just looks more vivid and pleasing to the eye.

Pros:

• Flat panel takes up little space


• Lightweight


• Lower power consumption


• Superior picture in general


• Aspect ratio better for movies/TV shows and desktop


• Easier on the eyes (subjective, and I'm not sure if there's any solid medical evidence to corroborate this assertion)


• Looks much sexier than a CRT (not that I'm superficial enough to care... Awww, who am I kidding?)

Cons:

• Expensive (costs 50%-100% more than a CRT)


• You could end up with dead pixels (I almost had a heart attack when I saw what I thought was a dead pixel, only to realize that it was dust on the screen)


• Picture quality limitations - Fixed optimal resolution; contrast range not as good as CRT - blacks are not as deep; limited viewing angle


• Could have an uneven backlight (like mine, which has a contrast gradient from the top to the bottom of the screen) - virtually unnoticeable though, unless you fixate on it (which is generally true for dead pixels as well, depending on where they occur)


• Lifetime not as long as a CRT, though I believe the backlight can be replaced once it fails.

That sounds like a lot of cons, but truthfully the pros outweigh the cons. Even with the uneven backlight, and even if there were dead pixels, the improved picture quality (despite the other drawbacks), screen real estate, reclaimed desk space, and power savings make it a worthwhile upgrade. Prices will continue to fall, and these will be par for the course in the average PC set up within the next 10 years, if not sooner. For people like me whose lives revolve around sitting in front of a computer screen (I can hear obesity, diabetes, and heart failure knocking on my door already), it's a no brainer.