Tomorrow could be boring

The worst (best?) pop video ever?

Going to Finland has its hazards. Like being exposed to this sort of thing. Only I don't seem to be alone in thinking that it's so bad it's good! But then again, a great many products of the 70s entertainment industry were.

The bit where the dancers all line up and the front man suddenly wiggles his hips is my favourite.

I Googled Armi and Danny and found a tribute site to Armi; sadly she died in 2002. To cheer you up afterwards, you can check out more videos on Danny's website.

I want more FlyFly

Timo played a really cruel trick on me recently.

He bought FireFly and Serenity on DVD and made me (yes, forced me!) to start watching. He thought I might like them. Well, he was wrong.

I fell in love with them instead.

The fucker! After getting caught up in the characteristic Joss Whedon layers of emerging and intriguing stories, ready to bubble into the surface... I get told, sorry, you'll never find out how they'll develop. Will they, won't they? Does River lose it completely, or will she now become the best pilot in the known universe? What was all that about Book's past? How... when... who?

We watched couple of episodes a night, finally finishing with the film yesterday evening, and then, it was all over. I sat on the floor, forlorn, repeatedly mewling: I want more FlyFly.

This is indeed, a cruel and hard world. And there are too many moronic American TV executives who should have their innards fed to them in some peppery sauce.

Theme from Firefly

Take my love.
Take my land.
Take me where I cannot stand.
I don’t care, I’m still free.
You can’t take the sky from me.

Take me out
to the black.
Tell ‘em I ain’t comin’ back.
Burn the land and boil the sea.
You can’t take the sky from me.

Have no place
I can be
Since I found Serenity.
But you can’t take the sky from me.

Words & Music by Joss Whedon
Performed by Sonny Rhodes.

Finnish monster-rock group LORDI will be in London

LORDI is making an appearance in London on the 12th of June. Head down to HMV Oxford Street for around 1.30pm for a chance to meet the monsters! I know I will... by a fortunate coincidence that's a day I have booked off, as I was going to make a special journey to Charles Fox in Covent Garden. Now it looks like a detour is in order.

Lordi members can also be caught online - there is an international forum that lists gigs, events, releases and other related mishmash. The band members occasionally post there, so if you're a wannabe Lordi-groupie (or should it be Lordi's bitch?), then maybe you should register. Be warned, the average age seems to be quite low; several off-topic discussions circle around grades, bullying and school in general. Still, there seems to be a good vibe about the place and hey, I'm sure Lordi's monster-members would agree: hard rock knows no age barriers. Heheee.

In other news, there are rumours that Lordi will join forces with KISS (the latter being responsible for much of the Finnish band's original influence and inspiration) in a New York showcase, designed to promote the group to an American audience.

Homeopathy hocus pocus

It's lovely to have alternatives available for "conventional", Western medicine. It's nice to have an "open mind". I make these statements with only a touch of wryness; I do sincerely try to keep an open mind. Nevertheless, I am really rather relieved to read news reports about a group of leading British doctors who have directly challenged the way many NHS trusts use their funds.

A GROUP of Britain’s leading doctors has urged every NHS trust to stop paying for alternative medicine and to use the money for conventional treatments. Their appeal is a direct challenge to the Prince of Wales’s outspoken campaign to widen access to complementary therapies. Public funding of “unproven or disproved treatments” such as homoeopathy and reflexology, which are promoted by the Prince, is unacceptable while huge NHS deficits are forcing trusts to sack nurses and limit access to life-saving drugs, the doctors say. As reported by The Times Online

I have very little faith in the NHS, as some of you may already know, but, rather ironically, the aforementioned doctors' lack of faith towards unproven alternative therapies is increasing my faith towards the doctors.

Some alternative therapies may form a solid support mechanism for suffering patients, but I do think they should be an optional extra; a luxury in a way; not something that the taxpayers pay for. If any of the alternative therapies would be scientifically proven to be consistently effective in treating serious conditions, I'd be saying different things.

If I have a tension headache, or if I am feeling the pressure of stress, aromatherapy might help. But I wouldn't dream of making someone else pay for my treatment.

If I have an incurable disease for which I am receiving conventional treatment, I might also wish to use some additional therapies. But the additional therapies should be a choice, an extra and entirely at the expense of the private individual.

Some alternative therapies seem to hover between the line of "conventional" and "alternative". That's when this whole thing becomes very messy and it's hard to hold on to a hard line on either side of the argument. The BBC website has a wonderful set of resources, examining these very issues:

Research conducted by the BBC has shown that alternative medicines are becoming increasingly popular. Yet their effectiveness is yet to be proven to the majority of medical practitioners in the UK and there are concerns over safety as many of the treatments remain untested. BBC News Online's health team examines the issues.

Paris, 20e arrondissement
Originally uploaded by mainblanche.

My biggest beef is with Homeopathy. You see, it's utter bollocks. Well, apart from the - sometimes, admittedly, very vividly experienced - Placebo effect.

Let me elaborate (although the above statement sums it all up quite tidily). The original concept of Homeopathy, when explained to a person to whom metaphysical matters are of interest, will sound inviting, promising and even plausible.

To treat the patient with a little bit of what might be making them unwell.

Classical homeopathy is generally defined as a system of medical treatment based on the use of minute quantities of remedies that in larger doses produce effects similar to those of the disease being treated. Hahnemann believed that very small doses of a medication could have very powerful healing effects because their potency could be affected by vigorous and methodical shaking (succussion). Hahnemann referred to this alleged increase in potency by vigorous shaking as dynamization. Hahnemann thought succussion could release "immaterial and spiritual powers," thereby making substances more active. "Tapping on a leather pad or the heel of the hand was alleged to double the dilution" (ibid.). From (the utterly scrumptious) The Sceptic's Dictionary.

So, the original concept seemed to have a little bit of potential, well, to gullible sorts anyway, but good grief. Basing the entire treatment on how much, and through which very specific methods it has been diluted?

Let me put this in other terms. Let's say we start with a few drops of a plant extract. All well and good. I actually DO believe that plant-based medicine and treatments can be incredibly effective. After all, much of the now so-called conventional medicine started that way.

However, in Hocus-pocus-pathy, you take the plant extracts, dilute, shake... then take the diluted mixture, add a few drops of that to a new batch of water and dilute, shake... then take the diluted mixture, add a few drops of that... well, so on and so forth, until the final "remedy" has as many molecules of the original plant as you would randomly find by chance in, say, sea water.

Just think about that quietly for a moment.

Various tincture-based elements are then added (alcohol, grapeseed oil, or perhaps something else to give the remedy a medicinal consistency) and abracadabra, a cure-all is ready!

Homeopathy is based on the notion that water has a memory. That its molecules can remember the presence of a substance that, for all intents and purposes is no longer there.

Did I mention the word BOLLOCKS yet?

What homeopathic practitioners do very effectively, is provide consultative, holistic treatment to their patients, complete with such apparent (or quite possibly very sincere) care for the wellbeing of the patients that the experience in itself must be very healing. And I don't dispute that. I just so wish that people weren't being told, well, bollocks.

I wish that if a practitioner were to set up a councelling and spiritual support service, they'd just set up one of those; not a charlatan outfit designed to exploit the weak and vulnerable. Homeopathy is the Scientology of alternative therapies and I really don't think it's fair to charge people horrid amounts for so-called remedies and therapies when it's all a bit of a con, really.

It's been bugging me for some time to know that in this country, my tax money has gone towards paying for someone's homeopathy treatment - I would certainly let out a little whoop of delight if NHS dropped that form of alternative therapy from their list of funded services. It is none of my business if people wish to pay for this kind of stuff privately (it doesn't harm me; and I know lots of people get something very real out of it), but I don't think it has any place whatsoever standing shoulder-to-shoulder with therapies that have been scientifically proven to be effective.

Cross-posted to: Blogcritics.org
EDIT 30/05/06: This entry was chosen as one of the "Editors' Picks" at BlogCritics.

Finland will RAWK Eurovision with Lordi!

As many traditional media sources have already gleefully reported, the 2006 Finnish Eurovision song contest entry will definitely not be what you'd expect. But let me correct these aforementioned sources - the entry is very much what you'd expect if you knew about the Finnish deadpan humour and mentality. I am delighted and even a little gleeful that my lovely, quirky homeland has decided to share its sense of humour around the world by entering Lordi - a Finnish Spinal Tap, or thereabouts - into the contest with a song called "Hard Rock Hallelujah". Sadly, and rather predictably, not many people (not even all Finns, judging by the local media reaction) "get" the tongue-in-cheek element of Lordi. Reports from the Eurovision 2006 host country Greece and from the Finnish church authorities, asking for immediate removal of Lordi from the contest, suggest that some people seem not to be getting the joke.

Lordi sounds like a hybrid between all of the 80s cheesy hard rock bands; a soundtrack to a b-list horror flick; with an underlying pop-sensibility that might even make it popular in countries other than Finland.

The Guardian wrote:

The trauma of losing the Eurovision Song Contest can do funny things to a country. In Finland, where the words "nul points" are burned into the national psyche, they have decided to take radical action and appoint hard-rocking death metal band Lordi as their Eurovision entry for 2006. A far cry from the breezy folk tunes and ultra-safe pop of traditional Eurovision fare [...]

Wait a second there, matey! You are confusing Finland with Norway! I don't recall any folk song entries from Finland! Oh, I admit. Most people seem to happily lump Nordic and Scandinavian countries into one compartment in their heads, probably entitled "That meatball guy from The Muppets".

Still, I felt it was my duty as a Finn to write the alternative announcement about Lordi, so here I am. Finland has graced the Eurovision song contest with its presence since 1961 and has always entered with a fabulously cheesy pop song in the true nature of the contest. Definitely no folk songs in sight. Who knows, with groups like Värttinä, maybe Finland should have used a folk song once in a while?

The 2006 Eurovision song contest will be broadcast from Athens on the 20th of May.

Cross-posted to: Blogcritics.org

EDIT: You may also be interested in the later entries relating to this post, We won!, Lordi scores record points... and Lordi in London

Attack of the space sausage!

The Learning Day at Escape studios was great fun, if totally exhausting. I can't remember the last time I felt that (mentally) wiped out. And really, that was a bit unexpected after only a deceptively simple set of exercises. I think it's the mental tiredness I used to experience when working in IT; something I haven't encountered for a long while. When you've intensely concentrated for several hours on the trot and have had to assimilate a lot of information in a short time. Maybe a bit like being in Higher Education (that's if you're actually trying to learn, versus spending your time in the pub...).

In the last two years I might have worked hard physically, but it's a different sort of tired.

When I got home last night I had something to eat, watched Chicken Run (with newfound respect, I must add) and fell asleep on the bed. Was woken up by Timo's call at around 1am: "I'm leaving work." The poor sod had a stupid-busy day.

The software packages we used at Escape were Shake and Maya. I felt immediately at home with Shake; sure, it wasn't simple, but at the same time it felt really intuitive and the concepts were fairly familiar. I've done enough Photoshop work and I "get" certain things more easily than others, so the Shake part of the day was definitely enjoyable on that level. In fact, I wished we could have done more with it. When I begun to understand the power of this package, it was time to stop. It definitely left me wanting to explore it further.

Not so much with Maya. I've had the Maya personal learning edition installed for a while, but unlike Photoshop, which I was able to just play around with in the beginning, until I started learning how to use it properly... well, my experience with Maya was definitely not the same! When I'd looked around it before, I just felt overwhelmed. It didn't seem to have a natural way to learn by trial and error because even to do the simplest thing, you'd have to know some of the basics about the interface and various tools. So you have to have an understanding of it even to get started.

Hence why this introduction to the package seemed like a good way to start; to just get an idea of what Maya was like; just to see whether it'd be something I could get my head around and to possibly even enjoy, or to do something useful with.

Our first task was to get somewhat familiar with the interface. So we made a simple ball shape and animated it to make it bounce. This eased us into the software. So far so good. I didn't fall behind, crash the software, or make my ball resemble a Sea Urchin (like some others in the class). Awesome.

Then, we were asked to open a file with two elements already in place: a human hand (with one digit missing; an odd-looking four-fingered hand) - and a polygon block floating above it. We were informed that the task would be to shape the hand out of the block. So far so good. The beginning all made sense; how to modify the polygon shapes into resembling the hand's structure; how to use the different views available, etc, etc.

However, at the point which the tutor had modelled two perfect fingers, my hand was more like a fairly creepy multi-digit space sausage. At least I hadn't created a zig-zagged 3D chess board like the student sat next to me.

Still. A space sausage. So, by this time I felt uncomfortable and like I'd just fallen off the wagon; the tutor had moved onto explaining skinning and I still had one of the four digits missing and the remaining ones wiggling at me, all misshapen and sausage-y from the screen.

In the end, we animated the "hand" to wave bye-bye. I'm thinking I could apply for SFX in horror films.

I stayed behind to chat with the tutor, who, incidentally, had started from a similar background to mine - from drawing and illustration to software and so on. She'd gone down the animation route fairly early on and I have a feeling that this is the crucial difference; I seem to be happier and more intrigued by the still image and by the 2D (or 2-and-a-half-D, as described by our Shake tutor) world. I expressed my doubts to the Maya tutor and she told me not to be so discouraged. She also mentioned that Maya is also a powerful texturing/skinning tool and that those skills are extremely useful in the industry.

Overall, I really enjoyed my Learning Day. It was exactly what I had hoped - a glimpse into the world of cutting edge digital effects, and a way for me to assess whether it'd be worth trying to learn any of these packages.

I think my next software investment will be Corel's Painter 9 (or whatever version will be out by the time I can afford the price tag!). I doubt I'll be delving much deeper into 3D. I don't have the hunger for it - and the work does not happen by magic. Those packages are a tool, just like Photoshop is - the work is only going to be as good as the skills and patience of the user.

However, if 3D would be something that I'd want to pursue career-wise, then Escape Studios would be a very good way to get into it. I'd recommend them on many levels - the tutors all have extensive industry experience, or are currently working in the industry - and the studios and equipment all seemed appropriate and professional.

A modified version of this post was cross-posted to BlogCritics.

My only warning would be: take a packed lunch. And a book. Because at lunch, or breakfast, or just about any other time of the day, you may not want to go out. Sheperd's Bush (at least the bit around the studios/Tube) is a DUMP. Hobos falling over on the road; two branches of McDonald's within 500 metres of oneanother, a KFC, some dodgy all-you-can-eat buffet, a small Starbucks with sullen staff, a slum shopping centre with a Morrisons. Nice.

Take a ticket, your number is 37758

Today, on Mozart's birthday (thank you, Google), I am going to talk about football.

There were at least two things wrong with that sentence, but no, you weren't imagining it. I'll allow you time to re-arrange your reading glasses on your noggin and to wipe that ridicilous grin off your face.

You see, Timo, my gorgeous half-Finn, half-Northern Irish love, is an avid football fan. Luckily not in the Eeeeeenglaaaaand-beer-bellied-going-out-to-get-smashed-wiv-the-lads-way, but rather, in that Fever Pitch-a-tad-obsessed-about-club-football-specifically-about-Arsenal-way.

Which, to a person like me, previously uneducated about these important differences, and ignorantly assuming that all football fans were alike, is a lesson learned. No, Timo didn't just make me write that. Although, I do think that he has subtly brainwashed me. A little. But I think I volunteered.

Not only am I beginning to understand the offside rule, I've now actually been to a football match (not just any match, but Arsenal versus Wigan, which was held on Tuesday at the Highbury stadium. Highbury is a place full of history, has beautiful Art Deco facade, and is due to be closed as a stadium and converted into flats. Arsenal FC will move to a new stadium nearby).

The picture on the left is of a penalty shoot-out (click for larger version), which, sadly, did not result in a goal for Arsenal. It is quite amusing to see how superstitious many of the devoted fans are - Timo kept on saying that he wished he hadn't taken that picture, because obviously, that's what proved to be unlucky for Arse. Yeaaaah.

When we were waiting for the match to start, outside the Gunners pub near the stadium, one of Timo's friends commented: "So, it's her first time at a match. Hope she's lucky".

A coach full of Wigan fans travelled past and the people inside thumped and jeered so viciously that I wouldn't have been surprised if they would have managed to break the windows and spill out onto the street. I guess there's a reason the Gunners has a sign above the door, stating: "Home fans only".

The match itself was exciting, but uncomfortable and frustrating. Exciting, because it was a new experience and because I couldn't help but get drawn in to the trance-like state of willing those players to get that fucking ball into that fucking net. Already.

Uncomfortable because it was very, very cold. One of the coldest nights this winter, with temperatures below freezing. And frustrating, because despite a score of 2-1 in favour of Arsenal, it was Wigan who came out as the winners, due to the calculations that determine the winning statistic when deciding who moves forward in the contest. And with this being the second match, and with Wigan having scored higher in the previous one... bah.

I've joined the club as a Red Member, which means that I'm now automatically in line for a Gold Member status (which, sadly, doesn't come with complimentary schmokes and pancakes*, but does mean that the likelihood of being able to obtain match tickets is higher). Timo is also a Red Member, and has joined another kind of line... the ridicilously long one for season tickets. His queue number is 37758. Maybe his grandchild might get a season ticket. If he's lucky.

I wish Arseblog would have been nominated as best sports blog in the 2006 Bloggies, but perhaps the regular visitors (or those witty and clever people who leave the most comments on any weblog, ever, according to Arseblogger) were too busy commenting and not busy enough nominating. For shame. Next year?

*If you get this reference, you're officially a nerd. Well done!

Edward Scissorhands adapted to a ballet

I am ashamed to admit that I've never been a huge fan of ballet. Sure, I was exposed to it from infanthood (as part of my mother's extensive campaign of her idea of culture versus American import soaps and Barbie dolls). I even had the opportunity to see The Bolshoi at the Bolshoi and yet, ballet was always just "okay" for me. Enjoyable, but forgettable. Opera, now that was something else, but all those tutu skirts and tight smiles of exertion - nah. They left me cold.

I enjoyed some modern dance. I fell hook, line and sinker for all the Flashdance, Breakdance, anything-dance films and clubs of the 80s.

But I haven't been to ballet for years.

This will have to change before February 2006. That's because a wonderful, wonderful man (I don't know him personally, of course, but he's wonderful) had the vision to get in touch with Danny Elfman and Tim Burton with a very special project in mind. The wonderful man in question is Matthew Bourne, famous for number of strong and unusual stage projects, his most controversial one probably being an overtly masculine production of Swan Lake - and the very special project is Edward Scissorhands, the ballet!

Matthew Bourne and New Adventures are back with their latest creation: a magical new adaptation of the classic Tim Burton motion picture Edward Scissorhands.

A Christmas treat for all the family, this touching and witty gothic fairytale tells the story of a boy created by an eccentric inventor who dies leaving him alone and unfinished. Left with only scissors for hands, Edward must find his place in a strange new suburban world where the well meaning community struggle to see past his strange appearance to the innocence and gentleness within.

Matthew will be teaming up with set designer Lez Brotherston and composer Terry Davies, who will take the original film score by Danny Elfman and adapt it especially for the stage. Source: ticketmaster

Danny Elfman is one of my favourite modern composers. I idolise Tim Burton. Edward Scissorhands really touched me when it was first released. This ballet production is running in London, at Sadler's Wells, Rosebury Avenue, Nov 22nd to Feb 5th.

If there ever was a reason for me to get re-aquainted with ballet, this is it.

Soy milk with my Ozric Tentacles, please

Ozric Tentacles is a brand of psychedelic prog-rock flavour breakfast cereal that every creative person should try at least once. Why? Because the mesh of riffs and melodies that is their sound, will make its way through the ear canals and slowly seep out of your eyeballs in an exquisite kaleidoscopic colour fantasy.

If you have Ozrics in the background and pen, pencil, chalk, Photoshop, typewriter, pasta collage - anything to create with - in front of you and nothing happens, then there's something wrong.

Let me re-phrase: if nothing good happens.

Ozrics are mind-food. Medicine against blank-page-panic.

Prog rock is such an irritating label. Perhaps even more so than "pop" or "rock". Deep Purple and Pink Floyd have their place, but it feels wrong that they should be cheek-to-cheek with the Ozrics. Nothing is in the same category.

I perceive the world around me through mild synaesthesia (although so do most people without realising it; I guess what I'm saying is: my synaesthesia is stronger than average). Ozric Tentacles hit the Syn nerve on the spot. (I just made up the Syn nerve, but go with it).

In fact, I'd venture as far as to say that the perfect treatment option for someone who's a little stiff and rigid in the creative department would be to gently introduce a course of Ozrics, starting, perhaps, with Jurassic Shift, one of my favourites. The dormant Syn nerve would twang into action equally well with Strangeitude or Pungent Effulgent.

The group has released 20-odd recordings since its formation in the mid eighties, yet is classified as "underground". This is no Tony Tiger; I'll admit that Ozrics won't appeal to the masses. It's not an easy sell. It won't fit into a bite-size chart show. It's not revolutionary. It doesn't deviate too much from its central theme. You can listen to some samples on the official website and decide for yourself. I recommend longer than a few seconds though - so if you are of the Napster persuasion, go, download!

All of the above form part of the appeal for me. I enjoy sharing this under the table secret with the select few. So, I'll admit - every time I find myself enjoying a chart-topping act, I wince just a little. This is, of course, terribly contrived and silly of me because if I'd truly achieved the state of being free of mass influence, I would go with whatever takes my fancy, regardless of whether a few squillion others fancied the same thing too.

And this brings me nicely to Röyksöpp. An indie band from Norway. Nay, a chart-climbing indie band  from Norway. They're good. Really good. Maybe there's some kind of secret Nordic code hidden in the tracks; a native memory of a sound just so, that happens to appeal to the Finn in me - who knows, I'm just babbling now - but some of the tracks are "little hairs at the back of your neck standing up" good. I'll have to throw the contrived snobbery out with the rubbish; this stuff is becoming popular, but I like it. Maybe the snobbery is more to do with my regard for the faceless general public: can it really tell mass-produced talentless hacks from true gems? Just a rhetorical question.

Röyksöpp could be described as dance, as pop, as indie - again, no befitting category there. This, I find, is always a good sign.

Categorisation fails completely when talking about Lamb. Is it drum and bass? Is it pop? Is it dance? Who knows. It's like a warm pebble you happened to pick up from an otherwise bleak beach; it's nestled in your pocket and keeping you warm, all in secret. You smile to yourself because B-line is stuck in your head and most people associate mint sauce with Lamb, not this.

Fear of fours is the raw - and in my opinion most appealing - example of the Lamb-effect, but the 1996 debut was enough to get me hooked. If you like Portishead, Bjork, or, indeed, Röyksöpp, I recommend you give Lamb a whirl.

This is part of The Sunday Review series.

On the nature of arrogance in blogging

Anyone who creates something and wishes for their creation to be public, could be classed as arrogant. After all, they have a vision or an object - a voice that they hope others would hear. They have made something they are proud of and want to share with the world. Or perhaps they have an opinion that they feel must become known to more than just the random relative, or work colleague who cares enough to listen. So we could call authors, artists, journalists, columnists, stand-up comics; a whole heap of people, arrogant by default, but we, as a society, tend not to. Instead, bloggers are sometimes referred to as no better than monkeys with typewriters. What is so different about bloggers? Why do many producers and consumers of the more "traditional" media often make statements like these:

Bloggers are no better than those bloody awful senders of Round Robin Christmans letters. Self centred and arrogant. Greedy for more than 15 minutes of fame.

Left as a comment by Josephine Bennington to an article about the digital revolution, at BBC.co.uk.

What is so wrong about wanting more than 15 minutes of fame, I wonder, Josephine? That's not a new thing in the world. It is not the exclusive right of Bloggers. The "Look Ma!" instinct is strong in people. I would also love to ask her a few questions, such as: Do you ever answer in more than one word, when asked "how are you?" Because surely, that could be considered bloody self-centred. Ah, but bloggers announce "how they are" to the whole world! Stuart doesn't like that one bit:

Blogs: Badly written, mundane drivel from under-informed, over-opinionated people. All the digital revolution has achieved is to give a platform to the "me, me, me" generation. It has given the pub boor a megaphone. (As before), Stuart, UK

But Stuart, a megaphone is something you can't ignore, whereas a blog is handy in that you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

Obviously Stuart's opinion, given online, to an article from where both of these comments came, is so important that he can begrudgingly put his distaste for opinionated people making themselves heard through the aid of the evil digital revolution to one side.

Blogs are pathetic - suddenly every person on the planet has an opinion that just has to be heard. (As before), Paul Charters, Sutton, UK

Paul, this is not "suddenly". Everyone on this planet has something they wish others could hear. Whether that's a personal take on something mundane, or a shared feeling, or a criticism of world affairs - don't we share these things with each other every day? What has happened "suddenly" though, is that a new medium, through which everyone can reach a wider audience has made an entrance and it looks like a little more than a fad.

Blogs do not have much of an access barrier, apart from the ability to get to a computer that has an online connection. That's beginning to be a very low rim these days, though there are, of course, millions to whom reaching for this barrier would still be impossible (and unimportant).

Bloggers can, and do come in all flavours. There are arrogant ones among them, but that doesn't make all bloggers arrogant by default, just like one arrogant newspaper columnist doesn't make all newspaper columnists arrogant by default. Blogging is accessible, and at its basic level - incredibly easy, but just because it is possible for an absolute ignorant moron to start one, doesn't mean that all bloggers are absolute ignorant morons. Only an absolute ignorant moron would make a statement that suggested this was the case.

The World Wide Web is a way in which people can reach out for other people. It's a tool with which to engage yourself with the world in a way that has not been previously possible. Blogging is just one expression of that. The critique of the faceless readership is often very simple: "will read that" or "don't want to read that", which means that whilst there are many blogs that have barely evolved from Txt MsgIng, they won't be the well read or influential ones. The surfing blog reader will choose exactly what they find entertaining, or informative. This frightens many of the producers of "traditional media" and in cases of well researched and well written political blogs, the influence of which has sometimes surpassed that of the news broadcast or a newspaper, the world of current affairs and political reporting has been irreversibly altered as a result of the humble Blog.

It's funny to see some people getting all uppity about blogging, podcasting, etc and whether they're new or not, or faddish or not, sad or not... we who blog, blog, those who don't, don't. Nothing more to it. There is good and there is bad and, naturally, the best and most interesting stuff rises to the top and stays. (As before), Vitriolica Webb, Portugal