On Facebook And Birthdays

It's fascinating, the number of people who need to say happy birthday on Facebook. Today is my girlfriend's birthday and her page is awash with people who are wishing her a happy birthday. And that's lovely. But here's the thing. She's not there. She left for the Download music festival days ago and won't read the message for days after. She even left a message on her page saying this, so there is no excuse for ignorance of the fact. I would wager most of these people have her number, and can contact her directly, but its almost as if they need to use Facebook.

So why? Is it more a selfish response? Do people need to be seen to have done it? Or has it just been so ingrained into the collective consciousness as the thing to do, much like the WoW player's robotic response of "gratz" to the input "ding". Either way it strikes me as demeaning the message, voiding it of feeling and emotion. Facebook messages are the cybermen of birthday greetings.

I thank those who may well have actually sent their wishes with true intention, but I fall back on my original observation that your social programming has blinded you to the option of giving her a call, or even just a fucking text.

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Music: Zero 7 - Simple Things

A quick on-the-bus post to recommend a Zero 7 album. Turn up the bass and chill to dem smooth rhythms.

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Thoughts On The Further Evolution Of Humanity

Fact: Evolutionary steps occur when a species develops a mutation that helps it survive better than previous iterations would.

Fact: If fictional media has taught me anything, it's that mutants with powers that manifest themselves overtly tend to be hunted down and inevitably killed by regular humanity.

Conclusion: The next evolutionary step for humans would require the humans with the new trait(s) to be indistinguishable from regular humanity.

Chilling Realisation: The next step of humanity could very well already be hiding among us, and, peaceful intentions or not, we won't know until they want us to know.

Comic Relief:

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Toy Story and Nostalgia

Fact: When Toy Story's Andy grows up, he is going to resent his mother for "making him give his childhood toys away". Think about it, they represent his growing up. His entire childhood these toys have been growing in collection, forming mental bonds and familiarities. And now they're gone. Given away, as far as Andy knows, under the forced suggestion of his mum, and every time some spot of nostalgia hits him, there will be nothing to quell it. It's not like a grown man can seek out the house of a now, say, mid to late teens girl, and ask whether he can play with his toys for a bit? Just for a bit? I just want to see them. Don't shut the door on me! No! Woody! Woodyyyyy! Woo-Oh hello officer. Why yes there is a perfectly good explanation for why I am screaming woody on this young girls yard.

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An Ode to a Lump of Concrete Full of Squishy Meatbags

I just looked out my window and looked upon the familiar, nay, aethereal glow of Bristol in the distance, and it gives me a sort of comfort. Whatever darkness dwelling denizens of the dreary my mind may fabricate during the night, I can stay safe in the knowledge that life still exists out there. Bristol is my life line, my miner's canary. So thank you Bristol, for while you might recieve some hate from your aclimatised populus, you have a place in my heart. You gave me Trip-Hop, the original 2 series of Skins. You gave me memories I shall forever cherish and friends that I doubt I will fast forget.

But most importantly you give me advanced warning for when the whatever apocalypse/uprising eventually gets underway. Keep those lights lit, people.

Yours ever watching the skyline for plumes of smoke,

^ This guy           

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My First Android Borne Blog

My mum just called my dad as we were refueling the boat, to ask how we were doing.
"We lost control and were swept into the canal. We're on our way to the ocean. The next time you see us we will have beards and suntans."
My dad is awesome.

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