Archive for December 12th, 2005

Women and Blogging

The women and blogging debate has been by far the most exciting thing to hit the Irish blogosphere since, well, ever. It’s a genuine blog happening – Fights! Insults! Scrapes! Carefully reconsidered points! – and rather than linking to all the sites involved, here is a link to a post on Sigla, where Sinéad has managed to link to all sites concerned.

Normally talk of the ‘blogosphere’ makes me want to down a bottle of cough mixture and have a long lie down, but what I found truly compelling about this episode is the way in which ideas spilled from one site to another, acquiring different angles and casting the topic – a very broad one – in a new light each time. It reads like something genuinely participative and democratic, and a far cry from what I think usually passes for these brief moments of ‘interbloguality’.

Too often what you get is a prolonged bout of convoluted and constipated parsing, where the reader is obliged to trudge through vast chunks of pompous prose, written in the style of a man (for it is he) who has some unfinished business from that school debate some fifteen years previous.

Clear and Present Difficulty

I have to buy a present for a woman I don’t really know that well for one of those ghastly Kris Kindle things this week. Please submit your ideas for presents reaching 20 Euro max. No ‘You Are What You Shit’-style suggestions, as I think she might be offended by that sort of thing.

Strewth

I don’t remember Neighbours ever having any Arab characters.

Baby Got Broadband

Only today. I survived as a blogger for nearly 8 months with a turgid connection at work used by about 10 million other people, and a laughable analogue connection at home that was like connecting over a cable made out of hessian. I will look back on this day like my parents’ generation look back on the day their house got an indoor toilet.

His ‘Quasi’ makes me queasy

Despite the aberrations you may read from time to time on this site, I am very much of the hang-em and flog-em disposition when it comes to those who abuse the Queen’s English.

There is a person sitting opposite me whose persistent recourse to a certain phrase would have me consign him to a circle of hell I was saving for the likes of Gary Glitter.

His phrase?

‘It is almost like…’

Example: it is almost like the time Princess Diana died.

Heard once or twice, this might seem inocuous enough. Heard thirty to forty times a day, particularly during the dark months of the year, is enough to drive one to start drinking Buckfast for breakfast.

Something cannot be ‘almost similar’ to something else. You can say how much something is like something else, as in, “it’s a bit like the time I had to have my legs amputated”, or “he’s very like his older brother, apart from the fact that he’s a hunchback”. You cannot, however, say “my governess is almost like a bear”. Either she is like a bear, or she is not.

One of these days I will batter him senseless with my fancy adjustable chair, leaving him almost within an inch of his life.

Batteries Low

Finding it hard these days to come up with stuff for posts. Leaving for in the dark and arriving home in the dark saps one’s spirits too much to be able to comment, pass judgement and pick nits. I’m sure there are lots of interesting things happening, but I’m not in the mood to go looking for them.

Happily, there are only 9 days left until it starts to get brighter again. Perhaps that’s a good time to start again.

The man who never alters his opinions is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.

– William Blake


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