PaulieJPD
Wednesday 7 September 2016
The Sequel
This morning, I woke up as my normal self, and life had the same feel it has had this past year. Routine has a way of sneaking up on you. I've been working in the same offices, and getting up at the same time. I've been logging into the same computer. I've been seeing the same faces. Eventually the short term becomes the long term.
Afternoon arrived because it does that, and I flicked through the tracks on my rediscovered 160GB iPod classic. The iPod was a gift from a lover in that past life; something that crosses the back of my mind whenever I use it, but isn't always to the fore. Today, I stumbled onto a track that has long reminded me of her.
I don't listen to it often, because every time I do, I savour it. I don't want anything to wash away the memories wrapped up in the song. It was the last day I saw her, and I blared the track on the sound system in her bedroom as she walked down the garden, got into her car, and drove away.
She had to go to work early, and our goodbyes had taken a the whole night. I didn't have to leave for a few hours, so I lay in her bed for a while and I stared at the roof. I didn't think about anything. I just lay there.
In my memory, that scene fades out, and the next one picks up weeks later.
And now I am here, and that was a lifetime ago. Memories gathered dust. Others were made and themselves faded. Cities of love were built and fell into ruin. My heart became fodder for archaeologists.
Then this afternoon I found the song and it was like drinking a glass of who I used to be. Colour poured back into my mind and words back into my heart.
And now I am here. On the cusp of a new adventure.
A new wind blows an old song.
Friday 25 March 2016
First, the overture. Yes. Yes, the strings. Listen carefully, can you hear it? Now the brass.
Sunday 2 August 2015
Irish Tourism
Tuesday 21 July 2015
Learning to Program
Sunday 14 June 2015
Older Chests
Always loved this track; Older Chests by Damien Rice.
Friday 9 January 2015
Thursday 8 January 2015
Sometimes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ISO_8601
It accurately describes time.
Tuesday 14 October 2014
Dress
Sunday 29 June 2014
Facebook's Emotional Manipulation
Saturday 10 May 2014
Rain and Flat Tires
Friday 9 May 2014
Revelation Junkies
Sunday 23 February 2014
Friday 17 January 2014
Borrowed Socks
Books vs Movies
Sunday 3 November 2013
Coffee
The toughest thing I face in life is that every few years my favourite coffee place closes and I have to find a new one. Perhaps I’m attracted to doomed coffee places, or perhaps I doom them. Either way, once I walk in the door and settle down in the corner, start thinking up a new business model, because your days are numbered.
Weirdo.
When The Winding Stair coffee place finally closed, the bookshop downstairs stayed open. The clerk recognised me when I came in. We shared our sympathies. He invited me to get coffee from somewhere else and sit in the couches they had for bookstore customers, but we both knew it was over.
Sometimes a pale imitation is just enough to stop you going after what you truly desire.
It's doomed.
Thursday 31 October 2013
Infographics
I have read a lot of silly infographics in my time. Stared at them. Admired the colours and the various shapes. Even vacantly drooled on the table a little. But I can't remember what a single one was about, and I'm going to blame the infographics.
They're a reflection of the mentality of catering for the lowest common denominator; aiming at the broadest audience of perusers, who click, glance, and move on, rather than those who read with the intention of learning or remembering. The whole development process is aimed at making information palatable, rather than memorable.
"Jimmy is scared of proper information, so lets give Jimmy a picture he can look at".
Jimmy isn't going to learn anything extra from the picture than he would have from a graph. All an infographic will do is obfuscate the information for anyone who stood a chance.
In summary, know whether you're trying to communicate or entertain.
Edit:
Since writing this, I've relaxed somewhat on what I vehemently opined. I now believe that infographics can be good, but that 95% of those I have seen were poorly designed. As an example, this infographic from The Huffington Post is touted as good, and is clearly a mess.
I'd note also that Wired's top 13 infographics of 2013 are all either maps or well labelled charts.
The difference appears to be that well organised graphs which don't use traditional axes work, but jumbling random facts into a long picture does not.
Wednesday 30 October 2013
Finishing Books
So, I'm about 100 pages away from the end of Sentimental Education by Flaubert, and I've been bored to death by the last 150. I had been reading a book per week, but this thing has dragged out for a month.
Rather than rant about book stories, I'll leave you with some recursive irony.
Take your own advice.
Sunday 27 October 2013
How the Other Half Lives
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt4Dfa4fOEY
Sunday 13 October 2013
Diaries
Art, Background, and Context
The Sisters Brothers
I’m not generally a fan of narratives that take place in Western America, but I was quite impressed with this novel. There’s something strangely charming about the innocence of killers. Their world of hope and struggle in the gold rush era makes for a curious setting to their confused odyssey, which seems to walk the line between purpose and disaffection that so many great tales carelessly ignore.
The Bell Jar
I Am the Messenger
Many people write books; Zusak tells stories. He tells them in a way that makes you forget he exists, in a way that lets you drift off into his world.
"I Am the Messenger" is quick, pleasant read that will make you feel good about yourself. Perfect bedtime reading.
Mornings in Jenin
Sunday 22 September 2013
A Few Flying Tips
Always dress well. Security is faster, people are nicer, and if you meet someone you're not in pyjamas. Do not wear shorts. Planes are cold. Change in the airport if you have to.
Be flirty and cheerful with the check in people. Especially if your bag is overweight. They're usually bored and open to banter.
Plan your bag. Make sure your laptop slides out.
Pick your queue well for security. You are looking for
1. the number of people in the que,
2.the proximity of the scanner's exit to the entrance to the shopping area, and
3. the age/racial profile of the people queuing.
Asian businessmen are fastest to follow when queuing for security. Then white businessmen, and then white families. Young women in sweatpants are surprisingly fast. The slowest are nouveau-riche Chinese (who don't know how to que), coloured people with non-western clothes, and old people. Arabic people go through at a surprisingly normal rate, but will likely get "randomly" searched as they walk about later. Couples can be stupid, languid and lovestruck.
Bring an empty bottle through security and fill it from drinking fountains when you're through.
Hold your passport open, your picture page unobscured on the bottom, your ticket across the top. Don't start fumbling when you get there.
Assign a single pocket to avoid passport panic.
If someone needs help with a bag, don't hesitate and do insist.
Have an item of clothing to use as a pillow. Airplane seats are crap.
Always be the last on the plane. While waiting, sit in the seat nearest the gate and allow the que to disappear while you watch in comfort, then step up casually. This way you won't have to stand, and when at last you seat yourself, you won't be hit in the head as late arrivers shuffle their bags into overhead compartments.
If seating isn't assigned, ask to sit in the emergency row. Usually the air hostess will stand in it. This is not because she's minding it, but because it's easier to stand in. Just ask and you can have the legroom.
Announcements are always unpleasant because of their caustic treble-saturated volume. Put a finger in your ear on the speaker side. Expect babies to cry.
When babies do cry, imagine they are distant F1 cars flying around a course, changing gears. Seriously.
Take off your shoes on the plane. It's so much more comfortable if you're in the air for a few hours. If you keep your shoes on, your feet will sweat and your socks will feel unpleasant on arrival.
Marvel at the clouds. Every time.
Have in-ear headphones. They're cheaper than active noise cancelling, work equally well, and you can wear them as earplugs without an uneasy dead sound. Also, you can roll your head sideways and sleep, where a headset will keep you jammed facing forward.
Read a book.
Stand up and stretch occasionally. Don't be embarrassed about going for a walk-about. You'll feel more alive on landing.
If you watch a movie, check if children can see your screen. Having sex or gore unavoidably on display where a child can see it is extremely poor form.
If you read or watch a movie, glance up every so often at the farthest away part of the cabin you can see to give your eyes a rest and a stretch.
Make sure your movie will end at least 30 minutes before you land. Nothing worse than having 10 minutes left and the system is turned off.
Do not expect the sleep you get on a plane to count for anything, ever.
Leave the plane after the crowd. I have never beaten my luggage to the carousel. If you have checked in bags, there's no good reason to bustle in the isle. Read a book, chill out, and wait until it's clear.
Brush your teeth and wash your face while you wait for your bags. Spray some aftershave. Freshen up. You probably look like you slept in your clothes.
If you're being collected by a friend or by family, turn on your phone and answer any messages that want answers before going through the doors to arrivals. Those moments of reacquaintance, embrace, and drive home are important to whoever picks you up or they wouldn't be there.
Remember that air travel is a ridiculous, silly, and fantastic thing to exist, and that though it may be commonplace these days, it should be treated as a privilege and a marvel.
The Unbearable Lightness
Sunday 8 September 2013
Coffee and Conversation
Saturday 7 September 2013
War on Terror
Tuesday 21 May 2013
Gatsby
Perfectly neurotic. Tragically beautiful. So much longing, love, obsession, and truth.
One man wrote it, vastly dramatised, and yet any of us could have written it if we knew ourselves well enough.
Sunday 10 February 2013
Wednesday 30 January 2013
The Orient
Shenzhen
Shenzhen is a quickly built city that exists in the seesaw middle-ground between post apocalyptic mayhem and utopia. There may be a five star hotel here, a run down block of apartments there; a gleaming shopping centre on one side of the road, a field full of rubbish on the other; spanish villas, shanty towns. It has sprinklings of each side, but never full fruition of either.
As a general rule of thumb, even if things look alright, they're always a bit shit.
'Ol Factory Output
To be back in the clear air of Dublin is wonderful. In China, when you wake up the air is heavy in your hotel room. When you go to work, the air around the traffic is heavy. When you are at work, the air is heavy.
With the pollution from the cars and factories, the dust from the construction sites, and the heat of the day, the air feels like it weighs more in your lungs. Buildings a few hundred metres away look greyed out by the smog. All colours are faded. All smells are faded. The world is a brown-grey haze.
Walking back up Grafton Street was like turning a screen from black and white to colour. The air, so thin and clean, and a myriad of smells floating past; a bakery, a woman's perfume, cigarette smoke, a shop selling soaps, a coffee shop with it's doors open, a rainbow of smells.
And the sky! Rather than a homogenous grey haze, the sky is blue. There are even well defined clouds with white centres and golden outlines! Buildings that are hundreds of metres away appear in crisp Technicolor HD images. It's like what being on drugs is meant to be like, but undoubtedly better because it comes with the clarity of mind that only 20 hours of long haul flights seem to give.
Katy Perry
Back home, I'm just out of the shower. I had the strangest experience as I was getting in. My body seemed to develop a light, sharp ache all over the surface of my skin. It came on a little at first, but within a minute I was shaking with it, and a blue flame of familiarity lit in my head; I had rediscovered "cold".
It comes as quite a surprise to have "coldness" thrown on you when you haven't experienced it for a few weeks, and it reminded me of my feelings when I came back from Australia. I kept them in a little notebook so here they are, for your pleasure. They seem obvious and trivial to read, but they were so far from the norm that they made an impression on me.
1. Tap water is cold.
2. The ground outside stings your feet.
3. The fridge has so much stuff in it.
4. Clothes are really heavy.
5. People are pale and blotchy.
6. There's stuff to think about everywhere.
7. Metal hurts to touch (cold).
Sunday 23 December 2012
Stop Being Fat
Oh yeah, there was none. Put down the cupcake.
A Few of My Favourite Things
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwDLpFqyxz8
Saturday 8 December 2012
Clap Twice To Turn the Lights On
I take up where I left off with after a lot of happenings, but surprisingly little change.
Time will tell, but now, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Tuesday 24 April 2012
A Life in the Day
I get up, shower and dress. Suit trousers, a shirt, black shoes. Probably a jumper since I've inherited or been given a number of extremely similar looking Abercrombie pullovers. They're all beige. They all have impractically long sleeves.
In the kitchen I marvel at the amount of food in the fridge before making myself a two course breakfast while cooking a packed lunch. Being a coeliac means my food combinations are not always normal, but I've stopped having things like chicken korma for breakfast because it weirds out the family.
Breakfast is usually pancakes with nutella and a bowl of fruit. I drink a berocca and a cup of mocca-made coffee with it. Lunch is usually pasta with tuna; a throwback to my travelling days. I play with the dog before I go.
I cycle to work on my dad's bicycle. It's a European style bike with three gears, and it applies the back break if you pedal backward. I'm convinced it's going to kill me. It has giant panniers on the back and there's no way I would have cycled it when I was 17. I go over a hill on the way that lets me see Dublin bay. I dream of sailing.
At work my room is quiet. We never turn the lights on, even in when it's cloudy, so the room has constantly a faint blueish true-light haze. I program extensions for Excel all day while listening to classical music on my reassuringly expensive Bose headphones. Usually it's Tchaikovski, but sometimes I play Bach or Vivaldi for some variety, even though I'd rather be listening to Tchaikovski. I say I can program but really I just copy code from the internet. It amounts to the same thing.
I work for a sleep monitoring company who developed a product that can tell what state of sleep you're in without touching you. We have Japanese customers who are very precise and our manufacturing is all in China. It sounds professional and exotic but people still argue about soccer results and delete files by mistake.
Sometimes part of my work is lying on the floor and breathing. I lie there and someone tells me to roll over every few minutes. I drift off a bit, but it's like trying to sleep in an airport while paying attention to the announcements.
I take lunch at my desk because it makes the day feel shorter. Usually only a few minutes. I spend the rest programming because I enjoy creating things people find useful.
After work when I go outside I remark on how cold it is. Every day. Still. With the sun on my face I take a long pull on the air and blow it out slowly through pursed lips, as though I were smoking it. I cycle back up over the hill. It's steeper on the way back.
In the evenings I read, jog, or meet with friends. I try to get to bed early on weeknights because I dont function well when I'm tired. I don't drink any more. The hangovers are hell and being drunk is overrated.
The novelty of having my own bed still hasn't worn off. The sheets and duvet are a far better quality than I'm used to.
When I get into bed I flick through a few social media on my phone. I look at a few news sites to feel clever but don't retain any of what I read. Before I go to sleep I turn my phone on airplane mode so no one will wake me. I check my alarms and fall asleep quickly. I always forget to turn the volume down.
Victor's trip to Europe from The Rules of Attraction.
Friday 13 April 2012
Home
I'm drafting a list of things that are strange to me here. Expect it.
Monday 2 April 2012
The Beginning of the End
Friday 30 March 2012
Monday 26 March 2012
Saturday 24 March 2012
I left a part of myself in the outback. Some buzz. Some restlessness. That fitful compulsion to talk all the time. The constant mental activity. The need for fast, loud music. Its gone.
Instead, there's a peace or calm which is almost unsettling. There's a compulsion to eat alone and enjoy the food. Not to drink. To listen to calm music. To talk to one person at a time so you can focus on them. It's a desire to appreciate and invest in everything, and to gaze at the world through your senses.
I wonder if it will fit in with the rest of the world.
I left a part of myself in the outback and I wonder if I need it back.
Friday 23 March 2012
Busking
The central station tunnel in Sydney is like my atm. Want to withdraw 20? Pop down to the tunnel, sing for a few minutes, bam.
Tuesday 13 March 2012
Excerpt From My Misguided Monologue
Saturday 10 March 2012
My People
Are generally people who circumstance occasionally makes look completely ridiculous. There's a charm to being lost in an awkward situation you were waltzed into by the world.
Friday 9 March 2012
Friends of the Opposite Sex
It's a pain in the ass trying to work out whether someone is enjoying talking to you, just wants to shag, or is lost in some blur of the two that leads to things like holding hands, comfortable silences, and eventually IKEA.
For now I'd be happy to tell the first two apart. Or more accurately I'd prefer if others could. I'm sick of the blur. I'm sick of some girls looking at me with a smile as if they're waiting for a flurry of adoration, and others shying away as though any moment they'll be set upon.
I might start a yes/no list online so everyone knows where they stand.
Paper Photos
Photos are there to make a moment immortal. Digital photos do that. Drag a second out to an eternity. Turn it into something etheral. Kundera would say meaningless.
Printed pictures are different. They grab the moment, then they age, wither and tear. They get damp. They get lost. You bond with the dream and the paper it's printed on.
Which has more value, I have not yet decided. The impermanence has a certain romanticism to it though.
Music Returns and Fills My Soul
Nothing like that first breath into an SM58 after so long apart. So familiar, like the touch of an old lover.
Saturday 3 March 2012
Songs
Metephors fly about the air, a broken heart from the window of a passing car, gang wars on a construction site, peace and love in a cafe.
Songs everywhere. Millions of them.
Freedom, Finance and Angels
I'm in Sydney and it's beautiful. The people are gorgeous, the weather perfect and the living easy. How I came to be living in the precise hostel I am now in, and have the friends and job I have is probably lost in the mists of time but that's to be expected when the only reason to know the day of the week is that dominos pizza is cheaper on Tuesdays.
Last night as I walked home through Hyde Park in the rain with a charming Italian girl, the skyscrapers were lost in cloud, their upper lights like a celestial aura. Now it's blue with cartoon clouds, crisp and white. The glass faced towers throwing light down onto the streets in patches.
I'm walking to a guitar store to buy a string. It's Monday morning and last night I broke one while busking, which was about the worst thing that could happen to me. I have very little money and playing guitar is how I make it. It's a day to day living. If I need to pay a night in a hostel, 35 mins of singing. Eating? Round it up to an hour. Takeaway food? Make it 2 hours pay tomorrow's rent as well, and take the day off.
The two worst things that can happen then are losing my voice, and breaking a string when I have no money. Fortunately, and by chance, I had 17 dollars in 20 and 50 cents I hadn't managed to spend and should be able to buy cheap strings.
Then I'll be off to work. I picked up a job selling milk and veg door to door. It's commission based, and as an engineer, it's interesting to learn to sell. At the moment I have a satchel around my neck on one side and a guitar slung on my back without a case. I'm not wearing a top because it's already very hot and I don't want to get sweaty before work. Later, when I'm selling, I'll wear shorts, runners, a polo that says "milkman" and an ass licking, shit eating grin to ingratiate myself with whoever owns the door I've just knocked on.
Time moves fast in the lives of the common people.
William Shatner - Common People