Looking through the junk that I had accumulated over the years, I was pleasantly surprised to find my old PSP console. Ancient 1.5 version. And still with Final Fantasy Tactics loaded!
That, to me, was one of the best games that I've ever played. And now that I have dug it out of plastic box limbo, I'm going to take it on one more time. Ha!
I've also found a number of old CDs, mostly from my Celtic period. Of course, there's the Tori Amos and the Kate Bush collections too. I missed these dreadfully when I was setting up my iTunes library. Well, better late than never - they'll be joining my Symphonic/Gothic Metal soon enough. I'll have to make some time one of these evenings, I think.
Then, I found some of my old ramblings, when I was trying to convince myself that I could be a writer. Looking over some of the scribblings I made, it was hard to keep myself from wincing in embarassment. Yet, I suppose they were my ideas, and I would not be doing them justice if I abandoned them now. So... I shall rework some of them. Perhaps putting them onto some closed blog may ensure that they survive. We'll see.
Strange how old things are beginning to take over my life again. Even though I have new books and new music to fill my days. Maybe I should list down some of my more recent acquisitions as well, just so that I may remember when this blog becomes old too.
Monday, 10 October 2011
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Death of Desire
Steve Jobs has died.
My last post was about one of his last innovations, the iPad 2, and how it has recently become a part of my daughter's life. It had been the object of her desire for some time now, and only just fulfilled. My wife's iPhone 4 was a gift that I bought her last year, for our anniversary. My mother has the iPad 1. She uses it for her Sudoku and to keep her connected with her friends, not to mention her Korean drama fixes. On top of that, she has an iTouch, which she uses to carry her music around, and to record her karaoke sessions.
Me? I use my trusty iPad 1 for meetings, for surfing the net, for games, for mail and facebook. And for updating this blog (which I don't do often enough). Like everyone else, I have come to enjoy the snazzy style of the i-range of Apple products, and love the man-machine-interface that has become so much a part of life. I confess to have been disappointed by the latest item, the iPhone 4S, put on offer, and could not help wondering what dear Mr Jobs would have thought of it. Or how he might have made the presentation (in a more snazzy, stylish manner, I was certain!)
Steve Jobs took technology and made it desireable.
Here is a man who took a practical item, and made it personal. And made it desireable.
Not the iPhone, not the iPad. I am talking about the Mackintosh computer. It was the first one to ever use a mouse as a pointing device. I gawked at it when I first saw it at the Computer Room at the University, and reveled in its ease of use. I desired one, but like other lowly students, could not afford one.
Then came the upheaval at Apple and Steve Jobs was out.
Then he was in again, and the iMac hit the stores. Again, I was caught up with the desire to possess one: so sexily colourful!
The hits just kept coming: iBook, iPod, MacBook, MacBook Air, Mac Mini, iPad and iPhone.
The personal computer, as my friend Trebuchet mentions in his own ode to Jobs, become truly personal. It was a fashion statement, a lifestyle choice, a necessary piece of technology, a means to an ends and an end in itself, in some extreme cases. It is hard to conceive of life without these items.
Steve Jobs is dead.
Suddenly, there is an empty place. An empty space. Who shall step into his shoes? Who will envision the next Big Thing? Who will make it happen?
Whoever it is, let us hope that the object remains one of desire.
RIP Steven Paul Jobs. You will be missed.
My last post was about one of his last innovations, the iPad 2, and how it has recently become a part of my daughter's life. It had been the object of her desire for some time now, and only just fulfilled. My wife's iPhone 4 was a gift that I bought her last year, for our anniversary. My mother has the iPad 1. She uses it for her Sudoku and to keep her connected with her friends, not to mention her Korean drama fixes. On top of that, she has an iTouch, which she uses to carry her music around, and to record her karaoke sessions.
Me? I use my trusty iPad 1 for meetings, for surfing the net, for games, for mail and facebook. And for updating this blog (which I don't do often enough). Like everyone else, I have come to enjoy the snazzy style of the i-range of Apple products, and love the man-machine-interface that has become so much a part of life. I confess to have been disappointed by the latest item, the iPhone 4S, put on offer, and could not help wondering what dear Mr Jobs would have thought of it. Or how he might have made the presentation (in a more snazzy, stylish manner, I was certain!)
Steve Jobs took technology and made it desireable.
Here is a man who took a practical item, and made it personal. And made it desireable.
Not the iPhone, not the iPad. I am talking about the Mackintosh computer. It was the first one to ever use a mouse as a pointing device. I gawked at it when I first saw it at the Computer Room at the University, and reveled in its ease of use. I desired one, but like other lowly students, could not afford one.
Then came the upheaval at Apple and Steve Jobs was out.
Then he was in again, and the iMac hit the stores. Again, I was caught up with the desire to possess one: so sexily colourful!
The hits just kept coming: iBook, iPod, MacBook, MacBook Air, Mac Mini, iPad and iPhone.
The personal computer, as my friend Trebuchet mentions in his own ode to Jobs, become truly personal. It was a fashion statement, a lifestyle choice, a necessary piece of technology, a means to an ends and an end in itself, in some extreme cases. It is hard to conceive of life without these items.
Steve Jobs is dead.
Suddenly, there is an empty place. An empty space. Who shall step into his shoes? Who will envision the next Big Thing? Who will make it happen?
Whoever it is, let us hope that the object remains one of desire.
RIP Steven Paul Jobs. You will be missed.
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
iPad 2 White
I have just purchased an iPad 2 for the daughter.
It was a promise that I made to her, to encourage her to put in more effort with regards to her Mandarin tests. Three full-marks on her weekly assessments would gain her a white iPad 2, I told her. And after a few fumbles (we made the deal in March after all), she finally succeeded. So an iPad I got her.
Now some folk will say that I'm spoiling her rotten. That she's going to grow anti-social by immersing herself into the game-world and ignoring everything else. Doubtless all the tiger-mothers out there will condemn my move as a piss-poor parent.
Yet...
Imagine her howls when she discovered that there were no game apps included in the machine. Nevertheless, she was happy enough with her new toy, and promptly made a new deal with me:
Full marks at any test/assessment (including spelling tests) will mean I load up one more game for her.
With the year-end assessment tests (I don't like to call them exams this young) coming up, it's no skin off my chin. More pressure on the sprog. Besides, when all the results are tabulated and released to us parents, it will in the midst of the holidays. Time enough for her to play to her heart's content, and get bored with her games when school starts again next year.
To quote Hannibal: I love it when a plan comes together.
Heh heh.
It was a promise that I made to her, to encourage her to put in more effort with regards to her Mandarin tests. Three full-marks on her weekly assessments would gain her a white iPad 2, I told her. And after a few fumbles (we made the deal in March after all), she finally succeeded. So an iPad I got her.
Now some folk will say that I'm spoiling her rotten. That she's going to grow anti-social by immersing herself into the game-world and ignoring everything else. Doubtless all the tiger-mothers out there will condemn my move as a piss-poor parent.
Yet...
Imagine her howls when she discovered that there were no game apps included in the machine. Nevertheless, she was happy enough with her new toy, and promptly made a new deal with me:
Full marks at any test/assessment (including spelling tests) will mean I load up one more game for her.
With the year-end assessment tests (I don't like to call them exams this young) coming up, it's no skin off my chin. More pressure on the sprog. Besides, when all the results are tabulated and released to us parents, it will in the midst of the holidays. Time enough for her to play to her heart's content, and get bored with her games when school starts again next year.
To quote Hannibal: I love it when a plan comes together.
Heh heh.
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Bang/Kiss
My poor car was on the receiving end of a fender-bender this morning.
Ouch.
The impact was more than sufficient to mess up my bumper utterly, and dent the panels of my boot. And smash up the rear lights on the driver's side. Worse, the bumper has been knocked so far forward that it's in contact with my rear wheel. Which means I can't drive the car, even if I was thick-skinned enough to endure the stares.
Double ouch.
After waiting for the tow-truck and getting the vehicle to the mechanics, I was told that the damage is going to take a good deal of work. Looks like a major job that's going to take days in the workshop.
Mega ouch!
I'm missing my car already. It's going to be awful the next few days.....
Oh, I didn't mention that the person who rear-ended me is my next-door neighbour, did I?
Wince!
Monday, 19 September 2011
A Feast in the Garden
The missus suggested that we head into Orchard Road yesterday to do some shopping, and I of course, had to agree. While we were preparing to set out, I suddenly remembered that I still had a pair of vouchers for Korean BBQ. I dug them out and discovered that they had yet to expire. So we decided that there was no time like the present to put them to use. Since there were only two of them, I'd have to pay for our daughter's share of the meal, but that was okay.
When we arrived, it was still early, and the restuarant was still setting up. So we wandered about the shops there, and I took the opportunity to scrutinize the vouchers. That's when I realized that it was a Sunday, and if accompanying a paying adult, a child dines for free! And the vouchers entitled us to the same deal! How wonderful!
Needless to say, the three of us stuffed ourselves silly with the beef & chicken & lamb therein. And the daughter enjoyed herself thoroughly with the ice-cream thereafter.
A good day.
When we arrived, it was still early, and the restuarant was still setting up. So we wandered about the shops there, and I took the opportunity to scrutinize the vouchers. That's when I realized that it was a Sunday, and if accompanying a paying adult, a child dines for free! And the vouchers entitled us to the same deal! How wonderful!
Needless to say, the three of us stuffed ourselves silly with the beef & chicken & lamb therein. And the daughter enjoyed herself thoroughly with the ice-cream thereafter.
A good day.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Heads Underwater
It has been almost 3 months now, since the missus ventured south to the Victorious City. It has been a rough ride, for the daughter, who misses her mother greatly. I have done what I can to divert her, but there are times that I fail utterly. It is not in me to coddle my child, and my methods of teaching tend towards the draconian. The old ways have always worked, in my opinion when it comes to schoolwork, and my daughter has only helped to reinforce this.
But when it comes to physical activity, I am not so confident. Those who know me know that I am not, by any generous definition, a sporty person. So it was with some reluctance that I agreed to teach my daughter to swim.
I had tried this before, mind you. The sprog was happy enough to splash in the shallow pools, and to clamber on my back to 'ride the whale' as I did my laps. But she appeared to have an abject fear of getting water in her eyes and holding her breath underwater. So much so that I had largely given up on her swimming before she became an adult.
For some reason, the topic of swimming came up over the weekend, just before the National Celebrations. And I found myself promising to bring her down to splash in the water once again. She thoroughly enjoyed that, but went on to ask me to teach her again. I warned her that it was going to be frightening at times, and reminded her that my teaching methods usually involved a bit of trauma. But she persisted, so I agreed.
To my surprise, she was more receptive to what I told her, and actually put some effort into her kicking. It took me a good while before she was willing to try holding her own nose and looking underwater, goggles on, of course. Then she was doing it sans hands. That was some motivation, I have to admit. So I committed to teaching her more in the coming months. Soon, I hope, she will be able to pull herself along by dint of her own strength.
In the meanwhile, here was something that she could boast about to her mother, when the missus returns on Friday night.
But when it comes to physical activity, I am not so confident. Those who know me know that I am not, by any generous definition, a sporty person. So it was with some reluctance that I agreed to teach my daughter to swim.
I had tried this before, mind you. The sprog was happy enough to splash in the shallow pools, and to clamber on my back to 'ride the whale' as I did my laps. But she appeared to have an abject fear of getting water in her eyes and holding her breath underwater. So much so that I had largely given up on her swimming before she became an adult.
For some reason, the topic of swimming came up over the weekend, just before the National Celebrations. And I found myself promising to bring her down to splash in the water once again. She thoroughly enjoyed that, but went on to ask me to teach her again. I warned her that it was going to be frightening at times, and reminded her that my teaching methods usually involved a bit of trauma. But she persisted, so I agreed.
To my surprise, she was more receptive to what I told her, and actually put some effort into her kicking. It took me a good while before she was willing to try holding her own nose and looking underwater, goggles on, of course. Then she was doing it sans hands. That was some motivation, I have to admit. So I committed to teaching her more in the coming months. Soon, I hope, she will be able to pull herself along by dint of her own strength.
In the meanwhile, here was something that she could boast about to her mother, when the missus returns on Friday night.
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