Some shite

*This was supposed to be posted about a week ago, but the computers here in college were fucking about. But it's here now.*

Put your hands in the air if you've ever heard of Michael Renov. Ah, three of you... Well, I hadn't heard of him until the other day and since then I've been wishing I hadn't. Here's a sample of the man's work: "...One component of the spectator's cinematic pleasure involves the play of projection and identification with idealized others who inhabit the filmed world."

WHA-?!

It is this kind of arse that I detest about communications studies. There are other kinds of arse I don't like, but this kind of over-use of language really miffs me! What the bugger is saying there is that people like to be able to watch things about people they can relate to. Human interest stories. Is that so bloody difficult to say? What IS the point in such long-winded blah-de-blah crap?

Just come out and say it! The elitism of it all is disgusting. Dressing up VERY simple concepts and making them all but inaccessible to people doesn't make you SMART it makes you a CUNT. And no, I will not back down from this stance.

While there is a serious problem with dumbing down in the mainstream media, tabloidisation of papers, over-use of MTV techniques (such as the high-speed camera jerks, just in case you get bored!) and so on, there is no need for the academics to raise the bar at the other end!

I notice in communications theory that there are a large number of very simple concepts, blatantly obvious facts for the most part, which are dressed up in the most convoluted, pointless and meaningless language! It's like the semiologists are so insecure in their own discipline that they've had to invent a whole new lexicon (yes, I can use words with xes in too!) to hide the fact that what they are doing is completely pointless! For example, who needs to know what the components of a sign are? It's obvious to anyone with even half a brain that we have the physical thing and a person's understanding of the thing making up what the thing means to them. Fuck all this talk of signifiers and so on. If we made academia a little less difficult for people to understand, maybe they'd know more and wouldn't feel threatened by knowledge, education or people with either of the above.

Good God! Maybe, just maybe, if we stopped raising the intellectual bar at one end we could stop lowering it at the other and in some happy middle ground we'd all understand each other. Entertainment would be something for everyone, rather than something for the lobotomised...

*deep breath* OK, I think that's enough of a rant for now. I'll leave that topic to anyone who might want to comment on it, I think it's worth it. Just because it annoys me so much.

Off to find the wizard, the wonderful wizard of pleasures of non-fiction text...

Gizzaclue!

Today is a day for not doing much and thinking, 'Isn't this nice?' while (not) doing it.

I did an IQ test to prove to Sarah that there was no pain involved and there is nothing in the computer which will pop up and laugh at you if you give a silly answer. I got 123, which I think is more than I got on another one a couple of years ago. This should go some way to proving what a silly thing they are. Still, it passes the time!

Been reading Kinky Friedman recently. I really like his books, they have this crackpot narrative stlye which falls somewhere between Douglas Adams and Raymond Chandler. It is odd.

I like this line, "I had a feeling Wednesday would come quicker than a nymphomaniac." Genius.

If you haven't read anything by the man, I strongly recommend that you do. For kicks, like.

On Thursday of last week I got a free lunch and some free wine and two free newspapers and a free tour of the Irish Times. We got to meet Madam Geraldine and there was much being daunted involved. She comes across as quite a shy woman, but doesn't let that come between her and being Da Boss. Saw an editorial meeting and found out what the next day's news would be. There's something distinctly odd about knowing things like that. It's like that show where this guy gets tomorrow's paper delivered every day, which allows him to go off and avert disasters. I think this is cheating the readers somewhat. I mean, who's going to buy a newspaper with the headline, "Nothing happened, grand day all round"? Not me, that's fo' shizzle!

In other news, there are three major things wrong with the left leg of the average chicken... I could tell you what they are, but I'd rather let you work it out for yourself. If you get it, stick the comment down below and I will tell you whether your conclusions are right or, as they most certainly will be, wrong.

My phone is playing up and my chances of getting elected are getting slimmer. I'm not even a registered voter, so where does that leave me? Oh, yes... Throw that one back in my face. I'm done here, but I'll be back, you can bet your granny's scaly feet on it!

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Just as a matter of interest, it turns out that Sarah is a genius. Her test result was 145, which just goes to show...

Blogs and news

*sigh*

It's getting harder to write here thanks to the crushing weight of dissertation blues and one or two other things which I Just Don't Want To Do.

I resolved to myself that this would be the day I begin putting pixel to screen on the thesis front, but as yet I have written not a word. That's right, nothing. I have photocopied a fair bit of stuff though, and I did buy a highlighter pen and some staples, so you could say I've made a start. What really holds me back is (flimsy excuse ahead...) not having a computer of my own to work on. I don't even believe myself actually. What really holds me back is an unwillingness to do any of this stuff at all. I'm sure there's a syndrome I could claim to have. Bone Idle Undergrad Syndrome. BIUS, pronounced a bit like bias.

It's hard to know exactly where to start with the whole thing. Did you see that? It's another Flimsy Excuse!

Anyway, enough about that, it just makes me feel like a waster. Which I am, but I try to avoid thinking about it. For obvious reasons.

What I really need to do is start thinking of questions I can be asking people. About blogs. This means YOU if you're a blogger and you're a-readin' this.

An amusing thing I discovered just this very minute: Apparently the Lord of the Rings is about the rise of Nazism and totalitarian regimes. I hadn't thought of that, I was sure it was just about wet-bag hobbits getting it on with one another and crying about people wanting to touch their rings. Then again, my mother believes it's about the industrial revolution and how it encroached on the simple lifestyle J.R.R.R.R.R.R. Tolkien was so whistful about. I really don't think JRRT was even slightly arsed about the Nazis or anything else apart from trees and nice biscuits.

If we take into account the number of times he mentions cake, tea, buns, pipes and other such things we can come to the conclusion that the 1000-odd pages are nothing more than a romantic allegory for the splendour of elevenses.

Of course, there are all the bits about trees being cut down and the Ents were surely a representation of JRRT's environmental concerns. In fact, if I remember correctly, the Ents didn't give a bugger about who was in power - the 'good' and the 'bad' were one and the same to them - they were more concerned about getting cut down and since Sauron's bunch seemed more inclined to chop trees down to make room for cattle to supply the new chain of fast food inns they were planning (McMordor's - 'We're Orcin' it!'). Of course, the hobbits were too small to cut down trees, elves were too camp, men were too stupid and dwarves were too subterranean, which only really left the orcs as a threat. They had nothing else to do.

Sauron's whole scheme appeared to be nothing more than a FÁS scheme for wayward reptile-people. Courses provided include advanced lumberjacking, fletching, metalwork, self-defense and a certain amount of alchemy and genetic engineering. There was also quite a strong emphasis on sports, particularly track and field events like javelin throwing, shot putt, sprinting, and cross-country running as well as basic fencing technique and classes in elocution.

If that sounds like nonsense to you, chances are you didn't read the book. Peter Jackson didn't make all that nature up himself, it was all on the pages. Without it, and with some severe abridgment of the hobbit-hugging sequences, the book would maybe have stretched to 200 pages and the film would have fit nicely into 2 hours, even including Tom Bombadil (who was a merry fellow. Bright blue his jacket was, and his boots were yellow...)

Another funny thing I discovered today was that the first blogs appeared in 1997. In 1999 there were 50, and by the end of this year Those In The Know predict there will be upwards of 10 million! It's a blog Explosion!

I've just spent ages looking for a nice picture to post here, but the computer I'm using is slower than a nun full of ketamine and I can't even see pictures, never mind post them!

So, I'm off to do something else. I'll stick a couple of links in for the perusal of any interested parties.

Spring Breaks

Where are ambulances going when they have their lights and sirens off?

If there are any paramedics out there who have an answer, I'd love to know. It's the sort of thing that preys on my mind. I think I'll hunt one down and get 'em to 'fess up. Yeah!

*cof*

Things I have benn doing today include: Nothing.

Yes, that's right! I have achieved nothing all day. Granted, it's only 2pm, but still, I count that as something to be proud of. I'm giving serious consideration to going into the library, digging out the journals I used to put together my thesis proposal and violently probing their passages in order to penetrate their meanings. I'm also going to see how much sexual innuendo I can fit in the finished product. I'm sure it won't be too hard. Ba-dum-tshish!

Sorry about that, it's a disease known as mygodijustcantbearseditis. Not to be confused with mygodihaveabarearseitis, which looks similar at first glance, but does, in fact, deal with an entirely different phenomenon. Although the two are not mutually exclusive. In fact, a fine example of a sufferer of both syndromes or 'itises', would be a person whose clothes have been torn off in a sandstorm who knows they really should try finished the Financial Times crossword, but really can't be bothered.

And that, as they say, is that. Except for this:


Click on the title of the post for some Tom Waits-y fun!