You Can Only Watch If You Already Know What Happens
This is interesting and a bit weird. The Malaysian film board have decreed that only Christians can watch The Passion of The Christ.
Those wacky Malaysians. They're in the Commonwealth, you know.
I mention this only because it's my last day at work, and I'm going to try not to think about the Commonwealth too much after this.
Friday, July 30
Wednesday, July 28
Tuesday, July 27
Continuum 2004
I went up to Leicester over the weekend to attend Continuum, a gaming convention focused on Call of Cthulhu and Glorantha (not that I know a thing about Glorantha).
In the interests of me not having to type much, I'll cut and paste something I wrote elsewhere.
It was my first residential con, and really was rather good.
My only complaint is that it was sometimes possible to find yourself wandering around with not much to do. This was, admittedly, at least mostly my fault.
I'd say it would be a good idea to have the films running a lot of the time, so that people could go and chill, but then those films were very, very loud.
As it was, I spent a reasonable proportion of my idle time propping up the bar next to some hack from Dulwich.
I played GB Steve's Hellboy game on Friday night. I was a bit worried about that one, as I've never read any Hellboy, but it was great fun as it turned out. And I won a prize, which surprised me. Thanks, Steve! Two prizes, actually.
On Saturday, I played two games of Call of Cthulhu. Firstly, Camp Sunny (for which, again inexplicably, I won a prize. Go me.) - a rather fun story about students on holiday. Part of problem was that we were pretty pissed most of the time, so not really in any fit state to solve a mystery. It's a miracle any of us escaped. I hear other groups achieved a TPK.
The second Cthulhu game, on Saturday night, was the multi-group "Hesitation, Deviation, Repetition". I cannot even begin to describe how deliriously good this was. It was an excellent concept, which took advantage of the conditions that you can only achieve at a convention. I believe it was Paul Fricker who wrote that one, so well done him.
I can definitely blame Fricker for introducing me to the card game Falling, which (now that I think of it, much like his CoC scenario) is an excercise in mounting panic. I shall not dwell on the joys of trying to play Fluxx very late at night after a few beers.
On Sunday I was in Disaster '74. I played the hotel doctor, and basically just spent my time posturing, trying it on with the ladies and admiring myself in the mirror. Oh, and doling out pills. And not really knowing what to do in the event of a medical emergency.
Someone said I played a very convincing soap-opera doctor. There's a backhanded compliment if ever there was one.
Monday morning, bright and early (the curtains, remember), I breakfasted, handed my room key to a woman I can only hope really was the residence manager and strolled down to the station. Very impressively, it only took me an hour and a half to get from the platform at Leicester to my office in London. Not bad.
I went up to Leicester over the weekend to attend Continuum, a gaming convention focused on Call of Cthulhu and Glorantha (not that I know a thing about Glorantha).
In the interests of me not having to type much, I'll cut and paste something I wrote elsewhere.
It was my first residential con, and really was rather good.
My only complaint is that it was sometimes possible to find yourself wandering around with not much to do. This was, admittedly, at least mostly my fault.
I'd say it would be a good idea to have the films running a lot of the time, so that people could go and chill, but then those films were very, very loud.
As it was, I spent a reasonable proportion of my idle time propping up the bar next to some hack from Dulwich.
I played GB Steve's Hellboy game on Friday night. I was a bit worried about that one, as I've never read any Hellboy, but it was great fun as it turned out. And I won a prize, which surprised me. Thanks, Steve! Two prizes, actually.
On Saturday, I played two games of Call of Cthulhu. Firstly, Camp Sunny (for which, again inexplicably, I won a prize. Go me.) - a rather fun story about students on holiday. Part of problem was that we were pretty pissed most of the time, so not really in any fit state to solve a mystery. It's a miracle any of us escaped. I hear other groups achieved a TPK.
The second Cthulhu game, on Saturday night, was the multi-group "Hesitation, Deviation, Repetition". I cannot even begin to describe how deliriously good this was. It was an excellent concept, which took advantage of the conditions that you can only achieve at a convention. I believe it was Paul Fricker who wrote that one, so well done him.
I can definitely blame Fricker for introducing me to the card game Falling, which (now that I think of it, much like his CoC scenario) is an excercise in mounting panic. I shall not dwell on the joys of trying to play Fluxx very late at night after a few beers.
On Sunday I was in Disaster '74. I played the hotel doctor, and basically just spent my time posturing, trying it on with the ladies and admiring myself in the mirror. Oh, and doling out pills. And not really knowing what to do in the event of a medical emergency.
Someone said I played a very convincing soap-opera doctor. There's a backhanded compliment if ever there was one.
Monday morning, bright and early (the curtains, remember), I breakfasted, handed my room key to a woman I can only hope really was the residence manager and strolled down to the station. Very impressively, it only took me an hour and a half to get from the platform at Leicester to my office in London. Not bad.
Friday, July 23
Finito
The magazine has been "put to bed", as we like to say in the business (because it makes us feel clever). Apart from checking the printer's proofs, its all done and dusted - I for one am quite happy about this. Editing the whole issue has been an interesting experience. What was required of me in terms of production, writing and that sort of thing wasn't too different to when I was just the news editor. But when you're overseeing the entire issue, what's different is the overall tenor of your attitude towards the publication.
The things that I was required to actively undertake were well within my abilities, but what produced the stress was that I was never entirely convinced - right up until they arrived - that the articles and photos people had promised me would turn up in time. What if nothing turned up at all? What would I do then?
Some things didn't get delivered, as it happens (University of the West Indies, I'm looking at you). There are some stop-gaps and ommissions in the final product but overall it looks as it was intended to from the start.
Thanks to the capable services of Chris the design guy, it looks damn good, too. Chris really does know what he's doing - and when you've seen the raw text of an article and its later iterations, you can spot the tiny things he's done that really make the layout look good.
That's pretty much it for me here in Gordon Square, then.
An August spent largely in libraries beckons, with the THES and China after that.
Here is a PDF of the cover, with "hilarious" spoof headlines.
The magazine has been "put to bed", as we like to say in the business (because it makes us feel clever). Apart from checking the printer's proofs, its all done and dusted - I for one am quite happy about this. Editing the whole issue has been an interesting experience. What was required of me in terms of production, writing and that sort of thing wasn't too different to when I was just the news editor. But when you're overseeing the entire issue, what's different is the overall tenor of your attitude towards the publication.
The things that I was required to actively undertake were well within my abilities, but what produced the stress was that I was never entirely convinced - right up until they arrived - that the articles and photos people had promised me would turn up in time. What if nothing turned up at all? What would I do then?
Some things didn't get delivered, as it happens (University of the West Indies, I'm looking at you). There are some stop-gaps and ommissions in the final product but overall it looks as it was intended to from the start.
Thanks to the capable services of Chris the design guy, it looks damn good, too. Chris really does know what he's doing - and when you've seen the raw text of an article and its later iterations, you can spot the tiny things he's done that really make the layout look good.
That's pretty much it for me here in Gordon Square, then.
An August spent largely in libraries beckons, with the THES and China after that.
Here is a PDF of the cover, with "hilarious" spoof headlines.
Wednesday, July 21
Dilbert Is A Documentary
Fun and games. Macs suck. Lah-di-dah.
The meeting of one of the academic fellowship programmes here at work is on today, for which I did the promotional activity - press releases etc. - back in February or March. Apparently, they've had a record number of applications.
I remain unconvinced that this is a result of my uncanny ability to write a glorified advert and email it to newspapers.
Fun and games. Macs suck. Lah-di-dah.
The meeting of one of the academic fellowship programmes here at work is on today, for which I did the promotional activity - press releases etc. - back in February or March. Apparently, they've had a record number of applications.
I remain unconvinced that this is a result of my uncanny ability to write a glorified advert and email it to newspapers.
Tuesday, July 20
This Is Good
This Isn't London is a catalogue of made-up facts about London. It's a bit of fun, as Keith Barret might say.
I finished that speech, by the way. Not great but serviceable. The point is, I want to not get the job because the money isn't enough or the other applicant is better, not because I couldn't even manage to write a trivial few words about top-up fees.
This Isn't London is a catalogue of made-up facts about London. It's a bit of fun, as Keith Barret might say.
I finished that speech, by the way. Not great but serviceable. The point is, I want to not get the job because the money isn't enough or the other applicant is better, not because I couldn't even manage to write a trivial few words about top-up fees.
Friday, July 16
Thursday, July 15
Life: like Tower Bridge
It goes up and down. Or has for the last week anyway.
I'd have described it as a rollercoaster, but I've never been on a rollercoaster, so I couldn't reliably guarantee that this week has been like one.
I found out on Monday that my current job is finishing at the end of this month (see the sweary post). I was a bit miffed. I am still a bit concerned about possibly not having much in the way of money.
Or not being able to pay the rent. That would suck as well.
So anyway, this week so far:
Monday - no job in August (bad)
Tuesday - interview for internship at the Houses of Parliament (good)
Wednesday (1) - considered Parliament gig wouldn't pay enough (bad)
Wednesday (2) - letter arrived for me at home, which my mum then read to me over the phone. It was job description for a position as a PR officer in Brussels (good)
Thursday - a bit desperate, added a "gissa job" request to the end of an email I was sending anyway to the foreign editor of a newspaper that I know. He just phoned and said he'd see what he could do, especially with reference to me being in China (good)
I think the weight of the first bad bit is still leaning the scales heavily in that direction, but things aren't as entirely negative as I thought at 3 o'clock on Monday afternoon.
It goes up and down. Or has for the last week anyway.
I'd have described it as a rollercoaster, but I've never been on a rollercoaster, so I couldn't reliably guarantee that this week has been like one.
I found out on Monday that my current job is finishing at the end of this month (see the sweary post). I was a bit miffed. I am still a bit concerned about possibly not having much in the way of money.
Or not being able to pay the rent. That would suck as well.
So anyway, this week so far:
Monday - no job in August (bad)
Tuesday - interview for internship at the Houses of Parliament (good)
Wednesday (1) - considered Parliament gig wouldn't pay enough (bad)
Wednesday (2) - letter arrived for me at home, which my mum then read to me over the phone. It was job description for a position as a PR officer in Brussels (good)
Thursday - a bit desperate, added a "gissa job" request to the end of an email I was sending anyway to the foreign editor of a newspaper that I know. He just phoned and said he'd see what he could do, especially with reference to me being in China (good)
I think the weight of the first bad bit is still leaning the scales heavily in that direction, but things aren't as entirely negative as I thought at 3 o'clock on Monday afternoon.
Tuesday, July 13
The Sweary Post
OK, normally I try to keep the language here civilised because, well, I think my Mum reads this, and also because vulgarity is the last resort of the inarticulate motherfucker.
In this case, however, I am deeply fucking hacked off.
As some of you may know, I was reluctantly persuaded to stay on for an extra month doing what the feminists called 'shitwork' trying to market the Association's moronic fucking database, which (to be fair) is pretty fine as databases go but probably won't sell much given that they decided to give it away for free to 96% of the predicted market. Nice going, guys.
So, anyway, having agreed to stay on for the extra month (id est, August) I didn't go looking for any work or whatever for that time, because I knew that the month's pay would cover my rent and air fare to China.
However, yesterday, I was very nicely informed that they didn't have the money to pay me, so I'm finishing at the end of this month. Well, thanks a fucking bunch. now that I have no money whatsoever coming in for amonth, and a month to run on my contract for the house, where am I going to get my rent money from? Or the for the bills?
It wouldn't be quite so bad, but this was the fucking gang of feckless bastards who only two months ago were slinging around phrases like "Oh, we can find £20,000 without too much trouble." Can you? Can you indeed, you troupe of shitweaselling fuckmooks?
Fuck it. I'm going to ask very nicely to be paid up to a month from yesterday, since otherwise there's no fucking way I can cover the rent.
Fucking fucking fuck.
I've got a job interview this afternoon, and there's suddenly an awful lot more riding on it than there was before. And even if I get it, I'm still going to be strapped for cash until mid-October when it starts.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
OK, normally I try to keep the language here civilised because, well, I think my Mum reads this, and also because vulgarity is the last resort of the inarticulate motherfucker.
In this case, however, I am deeply fucking hacked off.
As some of you may know, I was reluctantly persuaded to stay on for an extra month doing what the feminists called 'shitwork' trying to market the Association's moronic fucking database, which (to be fair) is pretty fine as databases go but probably won't sell much given that they decided to give it away for free to 96% of the predicted market. Nice going, guys.
So, anyway, having agreed to stay on for the extra month (id est, August) I didn't go looking for any work or whatever for that time, because I knew that the month's pay would cover my rent and air fare to China.
However, yesterday, I was very nicely informed that they didn't have the money to pay me, so I'm finishing at the end of this month. Well, thanks a fucking bunch. now that I have no money whatsoever coming in for amonth, and a month to run on my contract for the house, where am I going to get my rent money from? Or the for the bills?
It wouldn't be quite so bad, but this was the fucking gang of feckless bastards who only two months ago were slinging around phrases like "Oh, we can find £20,000 without too much trouble." Can you? Can you indeed, you troupe of shitweaselling fuckmooks?
Fuck it. I'm going to ask very nicely to be paid up to a month from yesterday, since otherwise there's no fucking way I can cover the rent.
Fucking fucking fuck.
I've got a job interview this afternoon, and there's suddenly an awful lot more riding on it than there was before. And even if I get it, I'm still going to be strapped for cash until mid-October when it starts.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
Friday, July 9
Chinese Education - Is It An Oxymoron?
This, from Elliot Bougis, pretty much sums up the frustrations I had when I was studying in Beijing.
"I can tell you firsthand the amount of time kids -- little kids, middle kids, big kids -- spend poring over books is mind-boggling. Trust me, if you thought the USA dumbed kids down by "teaching to the test," the Taiwanse education system makes us look like a bunch of Greek-speaking, beard-stroking, finger-raising peripatetic philosophers in the Stoa.
Myopia is a fitting metaphor for the Taiwanese, and presumably larger Asian, theory of education. Students perpetually miss the forest for the trees because education has been reduced, by and large, to the calculus of academic performance. Creativity is, at best, a diversion among my students and, at worst, a distraction. Know the questions you'll be asked; don't waste time thinking about what questions need to be asked. Know what the right answer is; don't consider why the right answers matter.
There is no more awkward and stultifying a moment for me as a teacher than just after I've asked a class to "come up with" their "own ideas" and to "be creative" only to hear a uniform reply: utter silence. But hey, maybe the Taiwanese know some secret I don't; maybe the sheer brute effort put into scanning books and trudging through drills really does produce brilliance. But considering Chinese Mandarin had to *borrow* the word "logic" from European languages, I'm skeptical."
This, from Elliot Bougis, pretty much sums up the frustrations I had when I was studying in Beijing.
"I can tell you firsthand the amount of time kids -- little kids, middle kids, big kids -- spend poring over books is mind-boggling. Trust me, if you thought the USA dumbed kids down by "teaching to the test," the Taiwanse education system makes us look like a bunch of Greek-speaking, beard-stroking, finger-raising peripatetic philosophers in the Stoa.
Myopia is a fitting metaphor for the Taiwanese, and presumably larger Asian, theory of education. Students perpetually miss the forest for the trees because education has been reduced, by and large, to the calculus of academic performance. Creativity is, at best, a diversion among my students and, at worst, a distraction. Know the questions you'll be asked; don't waste time thinking about what questions need to be asked. Know what the right answer is; don't consider why the right answers matter.
There is no more awkward and stultifying a moment for me as a teacher than just after I've asked a class to "come up with" their "own ideas" and to "be creative" only to hear a uniform reply: utter silence. But hey, maybe the Taiwanese know some secret I don't; maybe the sheer brute effort put into scanning books and trudging through drills really does produce brilliance. But considering Chinese Mandarin had to *borrow* the word "logic" from European languages, I'm skeptical."
Wednesday, July 7
Friday, July 2
Passport to the Pub
Now this is what anthropology should be about.
A research council has undertaken a properly scientific investigation of British pub etiquette, with surveys and everything.
"All of the rules of pub etiquette are based on five basic principles: equality, reciprocity, the pursuit of intimacy, a tacit non-aggression pact and a prohibition on taking things too seriously."
Now this is what anthropology should be about.
A research council has undertaken a properly scientific investigation of British pub etiquette, with surveys and everything.
"All of the rules of pub etiquette are based on five basic principles: equality, reciprocity, the pursuit of intimacy, a tacit non-aggression pact and a prohibition on taking things too seriously."
Kicking Ass & Taking Names
Not the name of a band, though it should be. I recently got taken to task (and, happily, sided with) in an online discussion, for suggesting that it is better to give someone the benefit of the doubt regarding their motivations if they take an action with which you disagree.
The very phrase "online discussion" should have been a warning klaxon there to run, hide and not get involved. As Alice said, I always give myself such very good advice, yet I very seldom follow it.
Anyway, on the same-ish subject, this from Mark Shea:
"I have long ago abandoned the Magic Bullet School of Explaining the Scandal. I don't think there is a "The Explanation" for it. I think there are lots of contributing factors: clericalism, gay mafia, fear, bishops who think like bureaucrats instead of like shepherds, and much much more.
"But one thing that has disturbed me has been the number of people who, at bottom, don't seem to really believe in grace or mercy. People, in fact, who habitually tend to regard mercy as weakness and charity as stupid softness. I shouldn't be shocked, of course. I'm the one that continually says that it is the Church's teaching on mercy, not sex, that is the most offensive and obnoxious item in its entire corpus of teaching. And I frequently get letters from readers remonstrating with me to take a Minimum Daily Adult Requirement attitude to mercy, telling me it's "wrong" to forgive people who have not directly harmed me (but not wrong to sit in judgment of such persons), urging maximalist approaches to the death penalty, constantly looking for ways to excommunicate, exclude, condemn, kick ass, and take names."
Not the name of a band, though it should be. I recently got taken to task (and, happily, sided with) in an online discussion, for suggesting that it is better to give someone the benefit of the doubt regarding their motivations if they take an action with which you disagree.
The very phrase "online discussion" should have been a warning klaxon there to run, hide and not get involved. As Alice said, I always give myself such very good advice, yet I very seldom follow it.
Anyway, on the same-ish subject, this from Mark Shea:
"I have long ago abandoned the Magic Bullet School of Explaining the Scandal. I don't think there is a "The Explanation" for it. I think there are lots of contributing factors: clericalism, gay mafia, fear, bishops who think like bureaucrats instead of like shepherds, and much much more.
"But one thing that has disturbed me has been the number of people who, at bottom, don't seem to really believe in grace or mercy. People, in fact, who habitually tend to regard mercy as weakness and charity as stupid softness. I shouldn't be shocked, of course. I'm the one that continually says that it is the Church's teaching on mercy, not sex, that is the most offensive and obnoxious item in its entire corpus of teaching. And I frequently get letters from readers remonstrating with me to take a Minimum Daily Adult Requirement attitude to mercy, telling me it's "wrong" to forgive people who have not directly harmed me (but not wrong to sit in judgment of such persons), urging maximalist approaches to the death penalty, constantly looking for ways to excommunicate, exclude, condemn, kick ass, and take names."
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