I seem to find myself writing “Stop the World” posts every so often. This week has been hard - one of the most difficult in a long time.

On more than one occaision during the journey home I have fallen asleep - and awoken in a panic, wondering where along the track the train has reached. I have remained standing on underground trains on purpose - purely because I have never fallen asleep while standing up.

So - what have I been doing that has worn me down?

I have been working in London every day for the last couple of weeks - getting up at 6am, leaving the house at 7am, and walking back in the door at 7pm. Each day has been filled with intense and complex development work - which in itself takes a huge amount of concentration and therefore saps energy (I’m not looking for sympathy here - just telling you the way it is).

On Wednesday night this week, myself and a colleague were invited to spend a night in Brentwood at another colleague’s house - to have a “boy’s night out” - which roughly translates to beer, curry, and putting the world to rights. While it seemed like a great idea, and we did have a great night, the preparation to get there meant staying up until 1am washing and drying clothes to take with me - purely because both myself and W are working long hours, typically walk in the door and then collapse in a heap each evening.

Meanwhile the garden is slowly turning into a jungle, and we face the prospect of spending all weekend hacking it back instead of actually relaxing.

Things somehow tend to stack up on us. Last weekend Saturday was spent washing and drying clothes, Sunday was spent at a friend’s wedding, and Monday (a bank holiday) was spent visiting relatives to return things they had left. The one respite we had was having dinner cooked for us at Wendy’s parents on Sunday afternoon.

Throughout the daily hell of commuting, brain busting work, washing clothes, drying clothes, and crashing out, I am kept going by the friends I have made on the internet - the emails they send, and comments they write are worth their weight in gold. They know who they are, but don’t perhaps know how much I value their “being there”.

Alongside those who I know read this blog, I am always a little taken aback when somebody new writes an email, as they did this morning - just saying that they like what I write. It also makes me feel guilty that I don’t try harder, or write more regularly. I know I have the capacity to write to a much higher quality if I put in the effort.

I have to curtail my coffee break now because several thousand lines of programming just fell in on themselves, forcing me to rise from my contemplative stupor and start headbutting the computer once more. Some quote regarding a “rage against the machine” might seem apt if I had enough brain cells left to construct it…

p.s. what are your thoughts on the new layout?

When we attended our friend’s wedding on Saturday, I became more aware than usual that I was the most untidy person there. Wendy said I looked fine, and yet I didn’t feel fine at all.

In England there seems to be an unwritten “uniform” that men must wear to occasions such as weddings - usually defined as a suit of some description, with a shirt and tie. Casting my eye around the assembled throng, I was the only person who arrived in an open-neck patterned shirt. I also had perhaps the most untidy hair, and was definitely the only man wearing sandals in the entire place.

Wendy asked if I would rather have worn a suit, and I was reminded of my work in London - of the uniform “dictated” by working in the city that I only loosely conform to. I of course wear smart trousers and shirt, and black shoes, and a tie, but that’s as far as it goes - within that remit the trousers are invariably khaki, and the shirt is usually coloured. If you cast a small survey within a typical train carriage full of London commuters, 8 out of 10 men will be wearing a dark suit with a white shirt.

A part of me rebels against conforming. I don’t consciously do it. It extends to any form of debate too - I invariably find myself taking the position of devils advocate - particularly if I see anybody taking any form of moral high ground.

Do you like to fit in, or do you strive to be different? Do you do it purposely?

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Tags: Difference, Uniform, Fitting In

It could be argued that I have either been reading far too many deep books recently, or I need to get out more.

It started two weeks ago while wandering past a wonderful little bookshop nearby. In a quiet sidestreet in the east end of London a few minutes walk from here is a bookshop, the like of which has become far from common in recent years.

The man behind the counter is there in all weathers, at all times of day. When I walk past in the early morning he has his newspaper propped on the counter with the radio reporting from the BBC, and in the late evening he often stands on the stoop of his doorway, watching the world go by.

The shop is warm, friendly, and is full of treasures in the form of books that chain stores do not carry. The kind of books I like. The current publishers “best sellers” are relegated to a couple of shelves and a coffee table as you walk in - beyond there shelves cover every surface, stacked neatly with art, sociology, poetry, science, psychology, history, biography, the classics, and more.

A spiral staircase leads downwards to an “adult” section - the only one I have ever seen in a book shop. I have never been down there - I am too scared. I imagine there will be photography, art, erotic fiction. I am guessing though.

I digress.

While nosing around the bookshop a couple of weeks ago I happened upon a series of books by noteworthy philosophers being sold at a discount. I picked up “Thus Spake Zarathustra” by Friedrich Nietzsche - a treatise on philosophy and morality made accessible through the dramatisation of it’s subjects though a sage-like character called Zarathustra.

While travelling home that night I started reading, and found myself completely and utterly engrossed. Having never read a book about philosophy before, I suddenly found a branch of academia that spoke in the same language that my mind seems to work - full of questions about the world, the nature of people, and of course our place in the middle of the maelstrom.

I read a little more about Nietzsche, and discovered that his writings on “Man as Superman” were taken up by the Nazi party in the 1930s and distorted horrifically to suit their own twisted purposes. At first I was horrified - horrified that I had been fascinated by a text was used to validate the attempted development of the Arian race. Then of course I realised that the practice of raping such literature has been prevalent throughout history.

And so, my course of discovery continues. Today I wandered past and before I knew it I was stood in front of a shelf with famous names once again - Goeth, Freud, Jung. In order to ease my path towards such weighty tomes, I picked up a tour-guide of sorts. A tour of the thinkers - who they were, where and when they lived - what they wrote about.

Wish me luck on my journey of discovery - of who we think we are, why we think we are here, and how we think we work.

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Tags: Philosophy, Nietzsche, Thinking, Books

We walked down to All Saints Church in Marlow today to attend the wedding of Mick and Ceri.

When I first moved to Marlow to live with Wendy in 2001, Mick’s birthday party was the first event I went to - and my first opportunity to make new friends. Among them were…

John and Nikki (the smiley people in the centre of the shot) - a couple from Australia who I introduced myself to by saying “Hello, I’m Jonathan, and I don’t have any friends”. Seriously - I did. They took me under their wing that evening, and the friendship blossomed. They are among our closest friends, and have been references during our journey through the adoption process.

Seen here eating wedding cake with Wendy, Deeg is one of the most amazing people I have ever known. Some might say that life hasn’t really dealt her the most wonderful cards, but it hasn’t stopped her wonderful smile, or stopped her caring for everybody around her. It’s no accident that everybody thinks the world of Deeg - or that we bought her a big slab of chocolate for feeding our cat at very little notice earlier this month.

Colin used to be a manager where I work, and is about to travel with his family to do missionary work for the church in Nepal. Colin is hard to describe - from my own point of view I have been in turn amused, and annoyed by him, but more than anything have always felt grateful to call him a friend. We have clashed (in a good natured manner) repeatedly about idealogical and theological views, visited for Burns night at his house, and had rather too much to drink in each other’s company. A proper friend - you know you are different, but it doesn’t matter at all.

It was Mick’s birthday that I first attended in Marlow. He was (at the time) a confirmed batchelor, and one of those people - I was to later learn - that is good at everything. Colleagues assured me in hushed (and slightly annoyed tones) that he could speak several languages, could play several instruments, and could program computers better than them too. I of course also discovered that he is perhaps the most placid, welcoming, charming, funny, and genuinely witty person I know. I met Ceri on that same night too - they played in a band called “The Elephant of Surprise” together, and we saw them play together at a function not long after that. Ceri, again, is an amazing person - talented, although quiet with it.

We feel very fortunate to count them among our friends and were so pleased when we heard they were getting married - and that we had been invited to the wedding.

After the wedding finished, as everybody was filing out John ran from church looking flustered - I asked if there was anything to do to help, and it turned out that our friend Bruce (who had been doing the PA for the wedding) had been pretty much stranded with putting everything away. I of course offered a hand and helped.

We feel very fortunate to call Bruce, Sue, and now their daughter Kayleigh our friends. In recent months we seem to have spent more time than ever before in their company. I’m not quite sure why we get along so well - we are all very different people, but we all seem to enjoy relaxing together - playing board games, and sharing the odd bottle of wine. Bruce is somewhat famous in our house for inventing the idea of pushing a Mars or Snickers Ice Cream bar into the top of any pudding like a monolith. I’m guessing we could call it “Being Bruced”. Bruce is a fantastic software developer, and quite annoyingly clever at times. He’s also one of the most consciencious and hard working people I have ever met. He always goes the extra mile - often for no recompence.

Following the wedding we went back to Bruce’s new house (they moved two days ago) for a cup of tea, and to spend time playing with Kayleigh. I got accused of enjoying the toys more than her, which seemed to be no surprise to anybody.

This evening we could have gone to the wedding party, but have decided to hang up our dancing shoes and have a quiet night in. I’m hoping our friends won’t mind our non-appearance, but I’m tired, and Wendy stood on a nail last night (yep, she really did), so we’re calling a halt to our Sunday.

I forsee a night of rubbish television, video games, and possibly a cup of green tea or two (I went to the Wittard shop yesterday in town). If you’re online give me a shout - I’m never that far from a computer.

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Tags: Mickand Ceri’s Wedding

In a fit of cleverness last night I build a new webpage, pretty much “just because I could”…

You can drag the words around, and it remembers where you put them. If you want to see it “full screen” click on the link below…

www.pluggedout.com/sandbox/fridge_poetry

Enjoy!

It’s 7:08am, I’m sitting on the train bound for Bourne End, Macbook unfurled, and find myself writing the first post of the day in what is rapidly becoming a “commuting blog”.

In the spirit of a newscast, perhaps I should start in the following manner;

It’s a grey morning in southern England, with low cloud blanketing much of the country. Temperatures are low for the time of year, with humidity higher than average. There’s a chance of rain throughout the day but it shouldn’t be too heavy.

You can see why I never had a career in television or radio, can’t you - I don’t do “brainless stream of words” very well at all. There must be a particular knack to talking about nothing in particular for several hours - in the UK we have perhaps the world champion in the form of Terry Wogan - a stalwart of the BBC who has hosted both television and radio programmes for years. His BBC Radio 2 show is perfect commuter fodder; entertaining, not too deep, and it doesn’t really matter if you wander into the show half-way through. Along with a select gang of likewise experienced orators, BBC Radio 2 has become something of a cult station for the 30-somethings and upwards.

The next few years are going to be interesting in the UK - the analogue radio transmitters are going to be decommissioned within the next decade (or at least those operated by the BBC) as they move to DAB (Digital Audio Broadcasting). Everybody I talk to seems to think that FM will continue for far longer than both the BBC and the government would like to think; think about it - I work in a technical job and know a lot of people who own a lot of gadgets, and not one of them has DAB radio, despite regular advertising campaigns from “The Beeb”.

The BBC is a bone of contention for a lot of people. If you live in the UK, and own either a television or a radio - regardless of if they are ever switched on or wired up even - you have to pay for a TV license. These licenses fund the BBC. While not as expensive as cable or satellite television, the license fee is not inconsiderable, and there are no “options” - it’s a flat fee. The main positive of the license fee is a total absence of commercial advertising - it has always been a given that when you watch a movie on the BBC that the experience will be pretty much the same as watching a video or DVD - no ad breaks, and (usually) not an edited version to meet the timing of those breaks. Viewers in America will notice the complete absence of the obvious scene cut-offs prevalent in US produced television programmes (quite why so many US shows insist on having their first ad break 2 minutes in is a complete mystery to me).

The license fee would be all well and good if the BBC hadn’t spread it’s reach quite so far. When I was young there were two BBC television channels, and four BBC radio stations (five including the World Service). There are now countless DAB radio channels, and many, many BBC digital television channels (sold to both cable and satellite operators). They also produce many magazines, books, and educational materials. Recent years have seen an enormous chunk of the license revenue disappear into their internet presence too - and that is set to increase as archive material is made available online.

I often find myself wondering how much of an impact podcasts will have on traditional broadcasting. “Old Media” are trying to jump on the bandwagon, but doing so spectacularly badly. While wanting you to download their latest shows to take with you on your media player, they don’t want anybody else to have a copy, and certainly don’t want you to keep the content forever.

New media companies (such as Revision 3 and TWiT) “get it” - and have no bones about letting you take a copy of any show and do what you like with it. New media often reminds me of the somewhat unusual stance on shoplifting taken by Tommy Hilfiger in their early days - they saw it as a positive thing. Firstly, they were impressed that people wanted to steal their clothes, and secondly the theft helped get them out there - onto the streets.

I’m not advocating theft here, but am returning to the old debate about “freedoms”. Unless the old media companies accept the basics - freedom of delivery method, freedom of storage, freedom of player hardware/software - they are going to die. Imagine a world where you need a BBC television to watch a BBC channel, and a BBC recorder to record old shows - only they wipe themselves after 2 days.

The whole subject of Digital Rights Management is a thorny one. By definition if something - such as encryption - can be “applied” to something, it can also be removed, and this is what has always happened. You’re never going to stop it, so it’s not worth fighting it. New media companies realise that people who obtain “free” copies of their content almost always purchase that content too - people like to own things - as long as the price isn’t prohibitive of course.

I started on the subject of the FM transmitters being decommissioned, and ended on digital rights management. Perhaps that’s the key to digital media gaining enough traction to cause a mass switch-over; the end of DRM.

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Tags: Television, Radio, DRM, Broadcasting, FM, DAB

This post is cross-posted from PluggedOut Blog, where I usually write about any interesting IT related news, opinion, or things I find on the internet…

Several days ago I read an interesting post at CodingHorror regarding the “deadly sins” of blogging - the things you should never do. On the whole I agreed with them - I have repeated a few below for the interest and amusement of others.

1. Do not use calendar widgets. They are useless.
2. Do not use tag cloud widgets. They are useless.
3. Do not include random photographs within a post that are not directly related to a post.
4. Unless you have a colossal readership, allow comments.
5. Do not post lists (like this one)
6. Do not post about blogging (like this post - yes, I find this rather humorous too).

With the above list in mind, I started thinking about the things you should do, and in no particular order came up with the following;

1. Write regularly, but only if you have something to write about
2. Use RSS Syndication. Most blogging platforms offer the opportunity to publish your writing as an RSS feed. Make sure a link to the RSS feed is prominent on all pages. Most people use feed aggregators to keep up-to-date with the various blogs and news services they regularly read - give them the means to use those services.
3. Use friendly URLs. If the blogging solution you use has the capability to use URL rewriting in order to make links to posts within your blog more friendly, use it. It helps search engines index your pages.
4. Do not thread drift. This harks back to the days of usenet, and bulletin boards. Keep your blog posts focussed on a specific subject - a second subject should be a second post.
5. Use pingback services. Many blogging platforms have the capability to inform blog-specific directories such as Google Blog Search, Sphere or Technorati of your new posts. If you don’t have this feature, look into services such as Feedburner which will do it for you.
6. Read other people’s blogs - and comment on them. If you are looking for readership, or to network with others in the same subject-space, contributing views and content to other blogs is a good thing to do.
7. Cross-post into social networks. If you regularly use a social network such as Facebook, MySpace, Vox, or Bebo, if the service doesn’t allow you to automatically import an RSS feed, cross-post relevant posts into the social network. It takes a minute to do, and shares your writing with those who might otherwise not see it.
8. Whatever you do, do not use MySpace as your blogging platform. There are more reasons than are practical to record for this.

If you have any further tips or advice to people writing blogs, feel free to share them.

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Tags: blogging, internet, tips, guidelines

Today has been a difficult day.

After spending so many months commuting four hours each day, and carrying the development of an incredibly complex system on my back, I had lost sight of the things that are important. I had forgotten what it is to relax, to spend time with friends, to spend time lost in my thoughts.

Last week was spent away from my normal life - completely divorced from the stresses, strains, and concerns that usually occupy my mind. I rediscovered a part of myself that I have not seen in quite some time, and liked it.

While out with friends one evening last week, we were talking about the differences between London and Cornwall, and I was asked how I thought I might cope, moving to the south west. Perhaps surprisingly I answered that I would have no problems at all with it. I grew up in small town Oxfordshire, so moving to Cornwall would be more like returning home than travelling elsewhere.

In many ways I see my time in London - my “professional career” - as just that - the thing I am doing at this stage in my life. While it may look like I am plodding along - meandering through my life and seeing where it takes me, I don’t envisage working in such a stressful environment forever. At some point (many years from now in all probability) I can see myself engineering a way out.

My current disillusionment is of course transitory. I have just returned from a wonderful break. I am not enjoying my first days back, but at the same time know that my time spent working where I am, and in the field I do is a necessary evil for the next several years at least.

With the adoption approaching I feel perhaps more keenly than ever a sense that I cannot and should not rock the boat. Our family is changing to a very “nuclear” format - I will make the money, Wendy will run the house, and our children will be given every chance we can afford them - both in terms of money, and of course our time.

In such seemingly bleak times you do of course remind yourself how lucky you are to have friends. True friends that share the odd stumble, help pick you up, carry the load for a part of your journey. I am reminded of the line Tolkein wrote in “The Fellowship of the Ring”…

Here’s to friends, dangerous businesses, and the road ahead.

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Tags: difficult, work, life

We just sat down and watched the movie “Starter for 10″.

We discovered it while watching the trailers on another movie recently, and then spotted it in the bargain bin of our local DVD rental store. I’m not going to go over the entire plot of the movie - you can do that by searching for it on Amazon or IMDB.

Here’s the trailer if you haven’t seen it…

So why am I writing about it?

I identified with it. Throughout college I wasn’t clever, and I wasn’t popular. I had to work hard to make the average grades I eventually left with, and have had to slog away ever since to “do well”. Like the character in the movie I didn’t really fit in when I was younger, and often found myself either alone or going in the wrong direction.

Since social networks on the internet have gained in popularity, it has been interesting to see names that I have not seen since those unsure first steps during college. It seems to be that those who were quiet and unpopular are now confident, in skilled jobs, and doing well - and those who were popular are now trying to be called our friends.

It’s a strange thing, this world we live in. While we are busy having a life time ticks on, and changes everything around us. If we don’t look up from time to time we don’t realise who we are, where we came from, where we are going to, and who we are taking with us on that journey.

“Starter for 10″ reminded me of the people I care about, and how blessed I am to call them my friends.

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Tags: Friends, Starter for 10, Movie, Life

While we were down in Cornwall visiting family and friends we picked up some chickens from our friends Graham and Tracey.

The above photo is by far the bossiest of the three chickens we now have making a mess of our back garden - although the others have their moments too.

I am reliably informed by Wendy that the chickens are “pets” - not “livestock”. This means that although we will have a plentiful supply of wonderful fresh eggs for the next couple of years, once the chickens slow down a bit we will keep them into their old age for no other reason than to eat pellets and poo all over the garden. I would be inclined to ring their necks and replace them, but have been told that old chicken meat is hardly even edible. Plus of course Wendy would never speak to me again.

I had been thinking that a goat would be a good idea in the garden, but a friend who just visited reliably informs me that their family goat killed their trees and destroyed their garden. I wonder if they tied it up though? (I guess you have to use a chain with a goat to avoid it eating what you tie it up with). Apparently goats really do eat everything in sight.

I guess geese would be very good guard dogs, but would need a huge house to roost in, and would annoy the hell out of the neighbours with their honking.

It feels like we are slowly becoming Tom and Barbara from the 1970s sitcom “The Good Life”. I already wear sweaters that Wendy has knitted for me. How long until we get a Marjorie Leadbetter moving in next door?

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Tags: Chickens, Goats, Geese, Garden, Eggs