Monthly Archive
Browsing entries posted on January 2007
Broadcast your voice
*Paid Post*
These past couple of years have seen an explosion in the amount of user-generated content on the Internet. Instead of being passive consumers of media, web users are now creating their own videos, making their own music and recording podcasts.For videos, there’s Youtube offering hosting and bandwidth for free, but so far there hasn’t been a service that offers podcasters the same benefits. That’s where MyPodcast, offering Free Podcast hosting and bandwidth, steps in.
Besides solving the problems of hosting and bandwidth (which is the real killer for those who host their own podcasts), MyPodcast also provides a free software for novice podcasters. There’s even a possibility of earning money through this, as every listener you get will earn you a certain amount of revenue.
Membership, hosting and bandwidth is free, and storage and bandwidth are unlimited. MyPodcast offers a hassle-free, all-in-one system to get you started on broadcasting your opinions.
Books - The New Mind-Altering Drug
Have you ever read a book that totally messed with your mind, tied your brain in knots while you tried to hold on to the thread of the storylines, and finally when you were finished, made you go “What?”
You’ve just read a Christopher Priest book. He’s the genius behind “The Prestige”, which I think was the best movie I saw in 2006. I haven’t read the original novel yet, but when I’m done with Catch-22 and have some free time, that’s next on my list.
So what qualifies me to talk about Christopher Priest, if all I’ve done is watch the film adaptation of his book? Ah, this is where it gets a bit deja-vu. Several years back, I read a book review that greatly intrigued me. The storyline revolved around a pair of twins, and it promised a twisty ending. I love twisty endings. I rented the book from a local shop, and proceeded to have my mind irrevocably altered. The book was The Separation, Priest’s most recent work.
So it was quite a surprise to me to find out that I had had some previous experience of Mr Priest’s work, while I was researching The Prestige on Wikipedia. I’ve decided I rather like his stuff. It’s challenging, and smart, and sticks in your mind long after you’ve returned the book. (I rarely buy books.) I highly recommend this author if you want to experience alternate realities, and don’t mind existing in a strange depersonalized state where the world around you doesn’t seem quite real any more.
He will make you question yourself, and the answers don’t come easy.
Thumbdrives for Valentine’s Day
*Paid Post*
Thumbdrives have become the new mass-market, “can’t live without it” gadget. Seriously, do you know anyone who uses a computer but doesn’t have a thumbdrive? What’s more, people have multiple thumbdrives nowadays, and sometimes you have 2 people with identical drives. Then the problem of mistaken thumbdrive identities arises. My mum gets around it by sticking name labels on her drives, but why do that when you can have personalised, engraved thumbdrives?
I’m so taken with these thumb drives. Apart from the range of colours offered, the stylish metallic casing gives it a more elegant air. And with free engraving, this utilitarian gadget becomes a personalised gift. Oooh, imagine engraving a romantic message, then filling up the thumbdrive with memories of your relationship! A 21st Century missive of love! And if you want to keep it only for your beloved’s eyes, the thumbdrive comes with security software so you can password-protect your data. USB 2.0 compatible, but of course!
The drives come in 512MB, 1GB, 2GB and 4GB variants, with free engraving for all.
The picture is so cute I have to put 2 of them up.
Welcome back, nerd.
I do believe my inner mugger is surfacing.
I don’t want to go out on the weekend. Apart from a short excursion to a specific place to buy a specific item, I really don’t want to go out. I want to stay in my room and read. Not just pleasure reading, either, but academic readings. I want to find out how humans evolved brain mechanisms. I want to know the theories of personality. I am curious about those “cute” studies which turn up ever so often in social psychology.
I don’t want to have fun. Or rather, I’ve made studying my recreation. My brain is humming along like the top-of-the-line processor it used to be. When you have so much computing power, it’s a waste to only use it for mundane tasks and frivolous whims. I want to overclock!
Instead of being distracted by other possible activities (watching TV with the dudes, watching dancers at practice, general stoning and time-wasting), I am sitting down and reading. More than that, I’m thinking. No mere input of information, this. I can feel my rusty critical-thinking and ideas module creaking back into life.
All this frenetic activity is probably triggered by 2 impending presentations next week, for which I still haven’t done the readings, and the knowledge that my weekend is fully taken up by band, choir and DnD. If I don’t read now, I’m going to regret it later! And if I don’t read faster, I’ll never finish in time!
Nothing like a good deadline to imbue one with a sense of purpose. And panic. I must admit, I’m rather enjoying this. It’s better than a sense of aimless ennui, at any rate.
Singer/Songwriter Awards
*Paid Post*
Being in a band and a choir, I’m naturally drawn to music competitions, even if only as a spectator. Us bandies obsessively watch “Rock Star: Supernova” the same way that Chinese aunties chase after their Hong Kong drama serials. And of course we enter a few competitions along the way, both for the exposure and experience as well as the very real prizes. Musicians are constantly broke, you know. The pursuit of our dreams and passion doesn’t come cheap.
The Singer/Songwriter Awards are organised by We Are Listening Ltd. It’s an ongoing, global contest where original songs of any genre are performed by their composers and submitted for judging by an international panel. They’ve just released the list of winners for 2006, and the winning songs are available for voting and download by the general public. Apart from the featured winners, there are also some podcasts available for download on the site, sorted by genre. It’s a great way to diversify your musical library - for free!
We Are Listening song contest winners
The winners will be flown to London for a recording session at Sphere Studios with producer Steve Williams, who has apparently worked with the likes of Sting, Eric Clapton, and Seal. Apart from that, up-and-coming artistes will have the headaches of distribution, licensing and promotion handled by We Are Listening. Other prizes in this contest take the form of album mixing and mastering, CD duplication, and a radio promotion campaign in that largest and most difficult of markets, the United States. That is a seriously sweet deal, in my opinion. It’s like a struggling songwriter’s dream come true. For a look at previous contest winners and where they are now, click on “Success Stories“.
This actually sounds like a really cool competition that I’d recommend to my bandmates. There’s an entry fee of 15 pounds sterling, or about 30 US dollars. That’s it, we’re off to polish up our original composition for submission!
Deluded
Despite the better clothes, funkier hairstyle and overall room improvements, I have to admit I’m still the geek I always was. And the people around me never tire of reminding me of such.
I’m still a nobody in hall, and even less of an entity outside of its red bricks. In the band, I’m very flatteringly referred to by the #1 as “the #2 vocalist”. I don’t think I’m even that high in the pecking order. Probably a couple more rungs down, because even the guitarists can sing better than I do.
I’m the #2 in DnD, but I know it was never meant to be my position. I was Plan B, the contingency that came into effect when the boss’s first choice backed out of DnD. Well, I didn’t want to be #2 anyway. I wanted to be the head of a subcomm, which would put me at #3 in the hierarchy, and not the sole #3 either. But that was what I wanted. I know several people out there probably resent me for the sheer dumb luck that landed me in a position above theirs. If they think I’m power-tripping, then so be it. This is probably one of the few aspects of my life where I’m not deluded as to the actual perception of my position. No one cares about #2. I am the man in the box, and if you’ve seen The Prestige, you’ll know what I mean.
Some days when I’m feeling really good about myself, or I’ve pulled off a rare accomplishment such as walking down the corridor without tripping over my own feet, I proclaim that I am cool, and that I rock. And those who are with me roll their eyes at this bald-faced lie, and tell me again that I’m deluded.
But I don’t believe it, not really. I wish I did. I wish I really believed I was capable of coolness. No one has ever said “Lynn rocks”, and no one ever will, and this isn’t a request for someone to do so. Lynn doesn’t rock. I might roll, though, and at the rate I’m gaining weight, one day I might actually do so, down the slope from Central Library. But I don’t rock.
I like cars and gadgets and football. Does that make me a butch?
I like puppies and makeup and pretty clothes and the colour pink. Does that make me a bimbo?
I shall just declare my status as geek. Not geekette, not geek goddess, just geek. I like taking things apart to see how they work. I love tinkering with electronics. I enjoy spending my weekends in the library. I think good grammar is sexy, and proper pronunciation of words irresistible. And it’s not just the size of your hard disk, it’s how you use it.
There wasn’t anything wrong with the old Lynn. I just thought I’d try out some new third-party applications, but they’re making the system unstable. Time to do a System Restore. Less flash, less fancy-shmancy fade-through effects, but more efficient processing, and generally easier to live with since crashes will happen less frequently.
It feels like rediscovering a lost love.
Procurement is the path to happiness
It was a good day as far as getting lovely new stuff goes.
I headed down to the guitar shops at City Hall to look for a magazine. The magazine wasn’t available, but the proprietor had a MUSE concert poster up in his window. So I just asked offhand if he still needed that poster. He very graciously and carefully peeled it off the window and gave it to me, still in pristine condition. So if you ever need to buy music books, song sheets, or music-related magazines, head to Excelsior/Peninsula basement and look around for a bookshop opposite Gordon’s Toy Store or something like that. The boss is really patient and helpful, and because of his kindness, I have a poster that the concert organiser was selling at a ripoff price of 10 dollars!
Now that I needed more space to display my prize, I reorganised the doggie pictures I bought from Ikea. They’re now displayed on a black mounting board - all the better to display them on, since it delineates the borders more clearly.
I really like the look of my room now, it’s cosy with the candles and lamp, and has a cute/funky vibe to it with the pictures and poster and my anime shitajiki on the closet door. My noticeboard has become a display area for brand tags from the clothes I buy, as well as the wristband from ZoukOut. The magnetic whiteboard is home to Bridget Jones, Spider-Man, and Josh Hartnett, while MUSE and Hoobastank look over me as I type. And through it all, my pink Hidamari nodder keeps on nodding indefatigably.
On the way out, there’s a new addition to the red brick wall. After my Bah! monster poster was removed, I replaced it with another, and I have a new DnD doortag proclaiming my status as vice-head. Haha, kembang sendiri.
The only thing I don’t like about my room right now, and this is a very recent development, is the fact that the sun shines straight in. It never used to be that way, the lush foliage outside was a very effective sunscreen that kept my room deliciously, vampirically dark. Then one day the men came with their screaming chainsaws and hacked away at the limbs of that innocent tree, now denuded of the branches it grew over the years. My room gets horribly warm in the afternoon, and it’s so bright. Bear in mind that the hot season is on its way, and you’ll see why I’m so upset at the loss of my shade provider.
Perhaps the next thing I should procure to improve on my tiny dormitory haven should be thick curtains to block out the sun, or a portable air-conditioning unit. Or I can just leave the fridge door open all day. I foresee an increase in the amount of cold, sugary drinks I will be consuming.
My room is so pretty I feel like throwing a house room-warming party.
Selling Out!
I’ve decided to start blogging for money. From now on, if you see a tag “Paid Post” at the beginning of the post, you can skip it. I signed up with Pay Per Post which pays me money for each post about given topics.
The range of topics is really diverse, but you won’t be seeing silly things like reviews of kitchen cabinet makers or buzz-building posts about real estate agents, because I know nuts about such topics. I’ll be sticking to stuff about which I can write intelligently.
No worries, there’s a limit on how many posts I can write a day, and I have to alternate between paid posts and my own blog posts, so this isn’t going to turn into some nonsensical commercial blog. If anything, this means I’ll be blogging more often, in order to make quota.
Questions about my blogging integrity and my sudden decision to sell out will be politely ignored. Questions about how to join in on this entrepreneurial endeavour can be directed through comments.
Emo Songs I Secretly Love, Part 2.
Blue October, Hate Me.
Despite its title, I’m inclined to think of this as a love song. A very sad love song, written to the wronged party, asking her to forget him and move on. Its very personal subject matter gives it a visceral honesty that goes a long way towards establishing it as an emo song in my book.
Jeff Buckley, Hallelujah.
In my opinion, one of the most beautiful songs ever written. The music and lyrics come together so synergistically that listening to it is pretty much a spiritual experience. Never mind the fact that The O.C. used it in the first season as background music, it’s still a brilliant piece of musicianship.
My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade.
I didn’t think much of “Helena” or their previous songs, so it came as a surprise to me that the radio hit with the refrain “We’ll carry on” was actually by MCR. It’s a ridiculously upbeat song about death. Which gives it a somewhat insouciant sense of morbidity and yet of laughing in Death’s face - the chorus is defiant that death does not mean the end, because our memories will carry on.
The All-American Rejects, It Ends Tonight.
I’m a sucker for piano bands. That’s pretty much it.
The Fray, How To Save A Life.
More piano goodness! The vocalist’s nasal drawl in the verse builds up an image of a relationship on the rocks before the whole band joins in the chorus, carried along by a tinkly piano. But I still don’t know what lifesaving skills have to do with the subject matter.
Splender, I Think God Can Explain.
Musically, this is not an outstanding song. The part of the song that carries meaning for me is the chorus, where the vocalist figures he’s ok, God can explain, and he’ll get over it. I used to think he was being blasphemous, but I’ve since developed a different perspective on it. My take on it now is that the underlying meaning is “spirituality is the answer”. He’s not demanding answers from God, he’s turning to his belief system to help him get through it. I could be wrong, but that’s my take on it.
The Wallflowers, One Headlight.
This song is surreal. Probably has something to do with the haunting sound of whatever instrument is making those UFO-like sounds. And then the guitars come in, distortion all over the place, and it ends with a solo. This song is like nothing I’ve heard before or since. I’m at a loss to describe why I like it, the only clue I have is that it was released circa 1997 when I was in a really weird place, mentally. So, weird music for weird moods.
Seek the light
Once upon a time, there was a boy with a pet snake. He had come across it quite by accident, trapped in some netting in his garden. Intrigued by it, he had decided to keep it.
He knew it was a wild animal and therefore should be approached with caution. He fed it, filled its water dish, arranged twigs and branches in its enclosure to give it hiding places, and he made sure it was kept in a warm place. No one else in his family shared any fondness for reptiles, so the boy was the only human in contact with the snake.
The boy knew that the snake’s natural reaction would be to escape, so he tried not to become too attached to the reptile in case it slithered away one day. He would lie on his bed and watch the snake taste the air with its forked tongue. He tried to get it to coil around his hand, but the snake went into hiding instead. So the boy decided not to force the issue.
Despite himself, the boy found that he was becoming attached to his snake. He thought he saw patterns of behaviour in the snake, such as increased activity when he approached the enclosure, that indicated a recognition of him by the snake. Although his rational mind insisted that these were only natural instinctual reactions, his heart leapt at the idea of having fostered a bond between the reptile and himself.
After some time, he figured the snake was sufficiently tamed, and he invited his friends over to see it. While they approached the snake, the boy watched. Imagine his dismay when he found the snake reacting to these strangers in the same way that they reacted to him. In fact, one of them even managed to get the snake to coil itself around his arm, something that the boy himself had not accomplished.
He felt betrayed. Not by the snake, but by his own heart. It had tricked him into thinking there was something special in the snake’s reactions, when in truth there was nothing. The snake held no affection for him, the boy had to admit. And in doing so, he felt his heart painfully twist itself into a knot.
The boy decided that there was no point keeping the snake, when it was not in the snake’s nature to return his affection. He took the snake’s enclosure out into the garden, and set it free. As it slithered away, the boy heaved a great sigh. All that was left of his ownership of the snake was his memories. And although it would be easier to forget about the snake totally, the boy chose to treasure those memories, because they reminded him that he had it in himself to care about another creature.
“Go seek the light,” he whispered into the stillness of the garden. “Seek the light and be free.”
And in the boy’s heart, an understanding began to dawn. He understood now, that the truth could be brutal and painful and difficult to accept, but he’d still rather have the truth than to live a foolish pretense. He resolved not to trust his traitorous heart, but to open his eyes and see the objective, undeniable evidence.
He chose not to live a lie.
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