Write what you know and read what you like

My university years.

A story on Slate has sparked a bit of commentary about reading and snobbery. I suppose it’s easy clickbait – nobody wants to feel inferior about their choice of pastime – but once you read the sell, there’s really not a lot more to it:

Read whatever you want. But you should feel embarrassed when what you’re reading was written for children.

Hm. Throughout there’s more of this looking-down-the-nose kind of thing, somehow suggesting that eye-rolling and enjoyment of what may be crap-lit are mutually exclusive. What I don’t understand is where speculation like this

These are the books that could plausibly be said to be replacing literary fiction in the lives of their adult readers. And that’s a shame.

or

But if they are substituting maudlin teen dramas for the complexity of great adult literature, then they are missing something.

comes from. I mean, aside from hanging the whole thing on what adults might be doing.

Continue reading “Write what you know and read what you like”

Book review: A Game of Thrones

A Game of Thrones A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

So, knee deep in the fourth season of the HBO adaptation of the cycle, I decided to read the source: George R.R. Martin’s books. And it’s the good choice: having seen the shows I’m already given a mental Cliff’s Notes to the tale, and I’m not likely to be disappointed by how the shows had dumbed-down the books; rather, I’m left in the position of learning how much the show leaves out. Continue reading “Book review: A Game of Thrones”

I think I can I think I can

Not pictured: success.

On Sunday, I spent a couple of hours playing shakuhachi in a group session organised by the Australian Shakuhachi Association. I’d been to one earlier this year, after some time away. This one featured the same teacher (Riley Lee) and a couple of new faces I hadn’t seen. I was excited to take part, partially because I like any excuse to use the Association’s abbreviated name (an ASS meeting, natch) but also because in the previous week I’d seen a concert of largely shakuhachi music, and was feeling inspired to play.

So of course it would be the case that Sunday was one of those days where sound decided to absent itself.  Continue reading “I think I can I think I can”

Deadly Premonition: The Director’s Cut (2013)

I’ve just completed the PS3 version of Deadly Premonition. It’s as uniquely addictive as everybody says.

It’s a game I’ve followed ever since this trailer was released. Originally, it was called Rainy Woods, was due for release for PS2/Xbox and was swiftly thrown into the doldrums because of the obvious rips from Twin Peaks. I mean, watch the trailer: midgets, a red room, a sheriff who looks like Michael Ontkean with a dye-job… the thing was hardly subtle. I suppose that’s why the game was almost cancelled four times.

Maybe we need a Chipmunk-cheeked Woman here instead? What do you think, guys?
Nope, no David Lynch stuff going on here.

The game finally dragged itself onto the X360 with its current title, and later to the PS3. The set-up is basic: you’re an FBI agent (Mr Francis York Morgan, but call him York, everyone does) who visits a town called Greenvale (presumably in the Pacific Northwest) in order to solve a murder. It’s the sort of game people love or loathe – but as someone who has a big thing for Twin Peaks, I’m in the former camp. It’s amazing, sort of like technological Twin Peaks fanfic, written by a Japanese teenager. Destructoid’s review of the game probably covers most of why I like it, and you should read it even if you’re not a gamer.

Continue reading “Deadly Premonition: The Director’s Cut (2013)”

Shakuhachi concert, 28/5/2014

Simon Barker performs.
Simon Barker performs.

I spent part of last night at a performance of shakuhachi and percussion works at Sydney’s Conservatorium of Music. The players ranged from student to shakuhachi master (and grandmaster) level, and while the event did have some slightly off-target moments, it was good to see how a casual approach to programming and execution – and at a free concert! – can yield rewards. Continue reading “Shakuhachi concert, 28/5/2014”

This guy right here

Lately I’ve been listening to Kirin J Callinan‘s album Embracism lot. It’s a bizarre thing, all spiky and full of what could be joking but likely isn’t. The filmclip above should give a good overview. It’s very weird, kind of sweaty and sexual and puts me in mind of an electro Dave Graney in the way that nobody can really figure if it’s serious or not because it’s so honest. Or is it?

Regardless, it’s great. Particularly when you get to stuff like this:

I think the appeal is in that it rides the line between like and dislike so adroitly. There’s always a question in mind – do I like this? – while listening, which to me is a mark of an artist (if not good) then worth investigating at least. Doesn’t strike me as much preaching to the choir going on here.

Anyway, the reason for this post is that Kirin is currently seeking some funds to continue touring the album and making some more music. It’ll receive funding but he’ll still make a loss, so in the last twelve hours why don’t you go and help out? The list of rewards is worth a couple of bucks alone. Arm-wrestling anyone?

 

Robot songs of bookish love

This article is great, because it details the process by which an algorithm – called TransProse, no less – can take the ’emotional temperature’ of literature and generate a piece of music on the results. Such as this, gleaned from A Clockwork Orange.

I’m kind of thrilled about this because I’ve always loved the way computers can take stuff we’ve created and make things from them. When I was younger, I used to play around with a DOS program called MARKV, which would eat any text you fed it – the longer the better – and then return output based on Markov Chains. It was random but it also relied on statistical examination of what pieces of data sat next to, so you’d receive something back which followed the kind of rules required for construction of lucid text… but in a very strange way.

I’ll wait. There’s an online version here. Go check it out. Or, better yet, feed album reviews or party political statements into it: the result is no more confusing than the real thing.  Continue reading “Robot songs of bookish love”

Written in the WordStars

“I actually like it, it does everything I want a word processing program to do and it doesn’t do anything else. I don’t want any help. I hate some of these modern systems where you type a lower case letter and it becomes a capital letter. I don’t want a capital. If I wanted a capital, I would have typed a capital. I know how to work the shift key.”

I was pleased to note that George R. R. Martin (whose mammoth tomes I’ve just begun to read) is fervent about something other than wearing that cap. He is one of a dying breed – the DOS user! More particularly, he uses WordStar to crank out his lengthy bestsellers. Not for him the (now Clippy-free) white screens of Microsoft Word or its free replacements. He eschews the fancy writer-friendly face of Scrivener. Instead, he spends hours facing this:

Mmm, chunky.
I said ChKWord, goddamnit.

Nice.   Of course, this isn’t the first time he’s mentioned this method of working. This LJ update provides more information on his working process, most notably this:

Continue reading “Written in the WordStars”

Kraftwerk: before they were robots

I’ve often shared this video on Facebook and thought I’d give it a whirl here: Kraftwerk in 1970.

If you only know them as the nattily-dressed man-machines or mocap-outfitted dudes apparently checking email in front of outstanding 3D visuals, you really don’t know them. Continue reading “Kraftwerk: before they were robots”

Book review: The Undeground Man

The Undeground ManThe Undeground Man by Mick Jackson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Jackson’s Booker-shortlisted book is a real gem. It’s a strange amalgam of fictionalised history, memoir and gothic horror – gothic body horror, come to that.

It takes its genesis in the life of William Cavendish-Scott-Bentinck, 5th Duke of Portland, but rapidly diverges from the accepted record. Using a combination of diary entries and testimonies or statements, the mole-like additions to his home at Welbeck Abbey are described, as is his increasing infirmity. There’s a lovely turn of phrase in the Duke’s private reminiscences, and the reader if left wondering if it’s the result of a poetic soul, or of dementia. Continue reading “Book review: The Undeground Man”