May 25, 2007

Blog Block and how to beat it

I’ve never been what you might call a frantic blogger, unfulfilled if posting less than five insightful stories every day, being altogether more intermittent in my blog work as in so many other of my life tasks, but never has so much time passed by as the thirteen blogless months between the increasingly puerile Finnish vid below and this moment, now.

And even though finger has finally been put to keyboard in this blockage-breaking undertaking, experience teaches that the odds on anything actually crossing the vast divide between a Google Docs draft and a live appearance on wonderful web are as laughably unattractive as the speaking voice of the secretary of state for communities and local government.

A debilitating succession of such chasms between intent and action mark out the broken lives of all chronic sufferers of advanced blog blockage syndrome (BBS); twixt the idea and the written words, the story in the head and the story on the page, the rough draft and the next draft, any draft and the final draft, final draft and the new entry form, new entry form and the preview, twixt the preview and the publish button, here lie the beckoning exits along the via dolorosa of the blocked blogger.

Oh, its tea-time at Headingley. With England on a magic 222 for 2, only right that I join our resurgent lads in a cup of Yorkshire Gold, which will hopefully refresh my spirits sufficiently to see this disappearing post through to a proper conclusion. What a huge day for Michael Vaughan (just reached his century -the Barmy Army go barmy), what another tragic day for the Windies, such a far cry from that majestic team of the eighties. When they were playing then, I was squatting in Electric Lane, Brixton, the culture which made them jumping all around me. Now I’m in a cute flint cottage on the North Norfolk coast, on top of Hungry Hill. So much has happened since he last entry penned in New Cross, so much content under the bridge, so few (no) posts. What a waste.

Oh hoh, I’m just starting to wonder whether the time has come to jack this entry in - can’t remember what it was really about, except a snappy headline. Same old same old.

Wait a minute, I think it may be coming back to me. The cure for Blogger’s Block? Publish something. Anything. Just do it and hopefully the rest will follow, pouring out through the crack you make in the ice.

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December 15, 2005

Pandora, Mogwai and Rankin

The scintillatingly brilliant Pandora - where you create personal ‘radio stations’ by putting in the name of a song or a musician you dig, and Pandora chooses an endless stream of music based round your selection from the huge archive built up by the Music Genome Project, plus a lot more as well, seems a very Web 2.0 application, although using Flash rather than AJAX, not that I think the latter is fundamental to the Web 2.0 idea, unlike some.

What I’m especially grateful to Pandora for already is reminding me how ideal the wonderful Mogwai are for writing to while you listen. Until Scottish scribbler Ian Rankin of Rebus fame highlighed this fact somewhere or other, I had not been able to write anything more challenging than an I.O.U. while any music was on, (spoken radio was of course even worse), but like Rankin I find Mogwai just perfect for everything this side of poetry. Thought I’d share this, while putting in the plug for Pandora, with which (or whom) I have nothing to do, beyond the obligations of admiration.

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May 24, 2005

Sublime Filth

Wow! This guy is sooooooo dirty! I’d barely heard of Anne Coulter, now I feel really warm towards her. And as the man says, Love Is…trading her for a meal. Then there’s the dirt on the Writer’s Guild of America posse feud. Who is this guy? Whatever…he writes like an angel. No wonder Paradise got lost.

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