On My Un-Futuristic Life

I know that, coming from someone who goes on and on about nostalgia, the past and his difficult relationship with technology, this post may come across hypocritical.

The building I work in is a converted Victorian warehouse. I like this very much; I like how it seems to have been designed to confuse you, with floors that are completely bypassed by some of the staircases, basements nobody tells you about and odd little storage rooms that you have to crawl into because the ceilings are so low. Yesterday, when I returned to the building after my daily lunchtime stroll along Regent's Canal, the Star Wars theme was blaring from the post room. It seemed incredibly out of place, and I began to feel nostalgic - only for the future.

Bear with me, I will wrestle some sense out of the last sentence if it's the last thing I do. You see when I was growing up, this wasn't how I expected the future to be. And a lot of my expectations about what the world would be like when I was an adult were shaped by things like Star Wars. No, I didn't think I'd be living in space, but I imagined things would be somewhat more advanced than they are.

I'm not asking for much. I don't need to float around in a galaxy far, far away. I'd settle for a lift that works. I don't even need a spaceship with hyperdrive capabilities that can fly from one end of the universe to the other in seconds. I would like a tube train that can deliver me to work without running out of breath and sitting in a tunnel for 15 minutes while it recharges its batteries*. OK, I wouldn't say no if somebody offered me an omniscient little robot that can play videos, pick locks, electrocute people and repair machinery. But I do have an iPhone and there's probably apps for all these things already.

Perhaps I should be grateful - my boss, for example, is actually quite a nice bloke and not a mask-wearing tyrant who could kill me by waving at me. It's just if you'd asked 6-year old Tom what the world would be like in 2010 the response would probably have involved hoverboots, lasars and teleportation. After a period in which technology seemed to race forward at a rate of knots, spewing out world-changing inventions like the interweb and mobile phones like there was no tomorrow, doesn't it seem a bit quiet?

Perhaps I'm ignoring important developments. I do spend most of my day in a Victorian warehouse after all, the building would probably reject any technological development - which is perhaps why the lift doesn't work. It's like The Haunting. Please feel free to prove me wrong and restore what little faith I once had in technology. In the meantime, I'm off camping for the weekend (in Dorset, not the Dagobah System).

*Admittedly is nothing compared to the poor souls stuck on the Jubilee and Victoria lines this week.

On iDependence

My ongoing battle with my iPod has been well documented, but I've always been fond of my iPhone, with which I've experienced very few problems. At times I've even been proud of the little fellow; as I was when it transformed a dreadfully ordinary daytime shot of the Thames into the psychadelic masterpiece above. Alas, it would seem that this period of plain sailing has been nothing but a honeymoon period. The calm before the storm. There isn't actually anything wrong with my phone - my worries stem from a concern that it's too advanced. It knows too much.

Yesterday was a prime example. Having reconciled with my great love, Beer, and put our lovers' tiff behind us, I rang N after work to see if he fancied a pint. "Sure," he said, "where?" I was in Farringdon, N works in Old Street - there was about a mile between us. I said I'd come to him, as his office is in close proximity to très-trendy Shoreditch. Alas, I then made a grave error; I muttered the moronic phrase "I'll use my map app to figure out how to get there." BOOM. I had exposed my vulnerability. My iPhone, realising my pathetic dependence on it, swiftly - and smugly - switched itself off. The official reason given was low battery - but I know this to be untrue. The iPhone knew that without its knowledge of life, the universe and everything, I was up shit creek without a paddle.

My desperate attempts to turn it back on failed and I descended into a blind panic. My vision blurred, my head was pounding with the noise of other commuters chattering into their better-behaved mobile phones. Cursing the phone with a string of four letter words that turned the air around me blue, I darted towards a phone box; a red beacon of hope, so often ignored. I threw the door open, grabbed the phone and inserted 50p.

"60p minimum", said the little screen. "YOU BASTARD. YOU BIG RED GREEDY BASTARD." I thought. There, under the gaze of several prostitutes staring down from postcards stuck on the walls, I rifled through my ManBag for change. Success. Another pound. I rang N. Typically, there was no answer. As the money remaining decreased at an incredible speed, I left a rushed message explaining the situation and asked him to be patient - I would get there, I needed the beer - but I might be late as I had no idea where I was.

Leaving the phonebox behind, I began my trek. I happened across a streetmap showing my current location and I did something I haven't done in a long time - I read the map and, not knowing where the next map would be, I commited the street names to memory. It felt strange - I may as well have been using a compass or navigating my course by the stars. But I did it. Despite having to revert to such primitive techniques as using my own initiative, I found my way to Old Street Station where N was waiting with a pint of sweet amber nectar.

So in your face, smug iPhone, in your face. I don't need you. I love you, and enjoy having you - but I don't need you. Now, kindly update me on what's been happening in the world, check my e-mail, warn me of any tube delays and suggest a decent restaurant within 2 miles. Much obliged.

PS I've just responded to about two weeks' worth of comments on previous posts - sincerest apologies, I wasn't ignoring them! PROMISE!

On A Quarterlife (or Afterlife) Crisis

I've just read the phrase 'quarterlife crisis' for the first time, on 20 Something Bloggers (http://www.20sb.net/group/quarterlifecrisis) and it made me wonder: is this what's behind my recent technology binge? For someone who has been something of a luddite up to now, it is perhaps a little out of character to embrace this blogging malarkey. And Twitter. I'm on that too now. Not that I know anyone on there, but I still can't get enough of it. There was a time when I didn't think about where Stephen Fry was or what he was up to (he's back in London, by the way). And then the I-Phone - I'm downloading apps like there's no tomorrow. Where has all of this come from I ask you!? This time a month ago I was perfectly happy (or blissfully ignorant?) with a laptop for games and Facebook and a phone that could make calls and do absolutely nothing else.


Don't get me wrong - I like blogging and Twitter and am pleased to have discovered them, for they have a kind of real world value, a valid point - but the problem lies deeper. You see, doctor, the thing is, I'm worried that my wondrous new phone is unearthing an old me - one that I buried kicking and screaming after I left home for uni. GeekMe. The I-Phone has provided me with a funky little app for downloading comic books, and has also got me obsessed with a game in which you pretend to be vampire killing zombies. It's all a bit Top Trumps, with points for attack and defence etc, and a page with people you can attack for blood, with which you can buy new supernatural powers.


I know, I'm not doing myself any favours - on the off-chance there was a secret reader out there in the blogosphere, wondering whether this drivel is interesting enough to merit their time, the chances are they have by now packed their bags and moved on. But don't abandon me yet, imaginary reader, for I will beat this.


I shall concentrate my efforts on the cooler things in life; on reading, drinking, eating out and going to the gym. I shall leave myself as little time alone as possible without being accused of stalking my nearest and dearest, so as to avoid the temptation of this virtual world of the undead. I shall go to work every day, and embrace Real Life once more. Then I will have buckets of interesting things to blog about and Undead-GeekMe will be banished...until next time... (mwah ha ha ha).

On Caviar & Comics

Tonight was my work Christmas do. And it was quite a do. Having had a couple of days off, I went to the office, glanced briefly at an inbox full of troublesome e-mails and then headed off to the Covent Garden Hotel for lunch.

We were told to dress up (unusual for an office full of Converses, jeans and hoodies) and I'm glad I did - the hotel is beautiful. We were shown to a private room in which I was not the only one impressed by the cloth wallpaper...or wallcloth perhaps. I'm sorry, I don't know the correct term. The food was fantastic. I had caviar for the first time - not much I hasten to add - a small helping on top of the rémoularde which accompanied my starter of smoked salmon. Fear not - I'm not going to run through the menu, but for a born and bred Essex boy I feel caviar in a swanky hotel is something of a milestone :) In all honesty, there wasn't even enough of it to really taste it - what I did manage to separate from the rest of my meal felt a bit like I was eating tiny bubbles. You can take the boy out of Essex...

Then went on to the pub - so please excuse any glaring spelling errors, 'tis not my fault but the fault of the good brewers at Becks Vier.

When I left this morning, sliding along the pavement like Bambi on the ice due to some new shoes I bought with my birthday funds, it was so cold my fingers nearly fell off and each breath hung in the air. I'm not moaning though - I love winter. It is my season of choice, and not only because it houses the joyous anniversary of my birth. I think everything looks better in winter. Lights shine brighter, homes look more inviting and there is a lot to be said for knitwear and winter jackets. I think winter suits London, and after some drinks in the pub, I took some time out from my desperate laps around Covent Garden Market in search of a public WC (I'm sure somebody's tampered with the signs, I was on a wild goose chase for a good 20minutes) to take some extremely festive photos on my new phone!

Yes, new phone. I am now a card carrying member of the I-Squad and have to admit that I love it. I don't know how I functioned with a phone minus all the clever little applications you can download - although I am trying to stay aware of the fact that they are money-making machines, Apple is terribly efficient in offering you applications that do exactly what you need, exactly when you need them. I MUST BE CAREFUL.

Saying that, I downloaded a clever little app that lets you download comic books which I'm really impressed with. I'm not a massive comic buff, but it's quite interesting how the designers have made use of this new platform when laying pages out - pressing next doesn't necessarily take you to the next page, but zooms in a different part of the current spread, or zooms out to show more, so that you bounce from speech bubble to speech bubble like you're watching a tennis match. Very clever...

The particular comic that impressed me was called 'The Stuff of Legend' by Mike Raicht and Brian Smith, illustrated by Charles Paul Wilson III and published by Th3rd World Studios. The artwork is breathtaking - all in sepia tones which is in keeping, I suppose, with it's WW2 setting. But while WW2 rages in the background and is rarely commented on directly, a battle on a smaller scale forms the main storyline - that of a group of toys, come to life in The Dark (a world inside their owner's cupboard, full of abandoned toys) on a quest to rescue the boy who owns them from the Boogie Man. It may sound odd, but give it a go - I do recommend it.

Anyway, I'd best be off - have to get in early tomorrow to actually deal with the e-mails I 'filed' this morning!

Festive wishes,

tbr

PS What a rant - Christmas - caviar - 'why I like winter' - new phone - comics - sorry, will try to be more structured :)