Posts by David Hamilton
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Is there art if there is no audience to appreciate it? Is intention important? Is a supermarket trolley art? Anyway, given you can see my art definition bias, here's my thoughts on the code debate. Note: I am a programmer by day.
Code is a tool you use to construct solutions to problems. It can be a beautiful thing, but that is related to the elegance with which it accomplishes its purpose. If I were a painter it would be my paintbrush. I can paint the fence or I can paint a masterpiece with my artistic tool. But it is still just that. Incredible art is produced programmatically, from stuff you hang on the wall to games to music. But so are accounting applications, web servers and spambots.
I think programmers can be artists. But I also think that most of the time we use our skills for entirely functional purposes that lie outside of my personal definition of art. By day at least, though I believe I accomplish important things, I am not an artist.
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"Well," replied Creon, "I seem to be stuck with Thomas Pynchon and Mason & Dixon." He thought for a moment, and then added: "So it goes."
This made me laugh out loud - something the internet almost never achieves. Brilliant.
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Oh god, I left an extra "s" in there and I can't edit it. I'm so very sorry...
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rogerd: I agree, Anansi Boys seemed like Neil Gaiman's entry into the rotating stand at an airport bookshop genre. It was still Gaiman, but with all the teeth pulled. On the other end of the spectrum I heartily recommend his Sandman graphics novels.
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I'm sensing an entrepreneurial opportunity here - pulp with classic covers. For those who want to get on the bandwagon of book cover appeal without having to actually absorb any serious literature. Perhaps a Murakami which is secretly a series of sudoku puzzles. Of course it would only work for the first impression. And then be a bit awkward when someone wants to actually discuss the content.
Another idea is mp3 players that prominently display your superior musical taste in some way. Perhaps arm mounted with a big screen.
If I ever saw someone reading Bradbury, Gaiman, Vonnegut, myths/legends, old school fairy tales, or one of the good old classics I'd be all up ons.
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A mate and I were hired to do odd jobs for a company that makes high precision machinery. One of the tasks involved organising and repacking for storage the owners entire collection of National Geographic magazines, some of which dated back to the 30's. Pro tip - load them into the giant box *after* you place the box in its final resting place.
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Your argument is rejected.
If you talk about the library as being a metaphor for a site it still holds. The very fact that it has erotic fiction would turn it into a pron library, despite the fact that a kid could walk in, grab a tintin book and walk out without ever being exposed (or allowed into) the erotic room.
.xxx is an nice, optimistic idea but its so very blanket. Also, what about the fact that pron is not the only objectionable content? Do violence, bad language and so on also deserve their own easily blockable domain suffix?
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I have no problem with the PA ads, I reckon its an awesome opportunity you have here to do something you love and get paid for it.
In a more general sense, I've always been surprised that ads on the internet actually make people any money. After years of working in the IT industry and using the interwebs my brain scans web pages with an utter disregard for the ads. I don't even see them beyond registering that theres something flashing somewhere.
Do people actually click on them? Do the companies get value for them? Or is it just some kind of exercise in wishful marketing. Don't get me wrong I love me some free content, I'm just curious. Does anyone know what the research says?
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I think we should have avatars editable by everyone, like wikis. Wakatars? Wavatars? Wikitars?
Wikatars?
That would be great, except for the inevitable arguments about how to most correctly represent someone. Expert opinion would of course be ignored in favour of that guy who sat behind you in high school maths scribbling dirty words on his desk.
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My christmas began with the sound of breaking glass. You see I'd just walked out of my mums house, locking everything behind me when I patted my right pocket. My keys usually form a satisfying lump, which tells me that I have access to all the stuff I need, like my car which I would be needing the next day to drive to Auckland. Today there was nothing, and inconveniently my mum was visiting her parents in Taumaranui.
I had timed my leaving just right so I could pick up my sister, catch up with my cousins for a few minutes and make it in time for dinner with my grandma. And now I was late, with the keys in the house and no way around needing them. So I got out my trusty cricket bat and smashed the laundry window, trying not to think about the phone call I would be making later that evening. It took me five hits - first I tried surgical strikes with the handle but they just bounced off. In the end I managed the job with a reverse sweep which would have rocketed over mid off.
With only minor cuts, brandishing my keys and armed with placating explanations I took off to enjoy christmas. Little did I know that my litany of destruction was only beginning. Well ok, "litany of destruction" might be overplaying it a little, but I did manage to run over my grandmothers flower beds on the way out, and I stood on my bro in laws child fence on arrival in Auckland which tore it in half.
I put it down to stress - after a couple of days of eating delicious food, drinking delicious beer and playing with my nephews I feel a lot more relaxed. Thank God I wasn't in charge of the barbeque though...