The blog software that is powering this blog, Serendipity, has just released a new version, being v1.0. Our friend, Jack, who is kindly hosting jonjo.se, upgraded yesterday, and just looking at some of the new additions to the software makes me mightily impressed.
There won’t be too many changes to the front end, but I’ll be playing around a bit with various plugins over the next few months, to see if there’s anything I can use to my advantage.
I have always been under the impression that signing up to endure newsletters (in particular, music-related folderol) being sent to me would give me a certain edge when it came to being in the know about events and concerts; it appears I am woefully naïve.
Play! is a symphonic reconstruction of videogame music (stop smirking at the back) that has been touring America with some succuess. This prosperity (or, perhaps, lack of funds) led to a Play! newsletter’s proclamation a month or so ago that they were to come to Stockholm in the middle of June.
Receiving said newsletter, I immediately clicked on the enclosed link, sure in the knowledge that I was among the first to be privvy to this tantalising tidbit (illiteration is the lowest form of script, you know). Frantically clicking further with palms sweating, I was confronted by a Swedish booking agency that brazenly apprised me that the concert was sold out.
Psychologists are right: first comes denial, followed by anger; paridoxically, psychologist are wrong: anger is followed by acrimony.
I am seldom remiss in checking my mail. I am quite certain I read the newsletter either when it arrived in my inbox, or when I turned my computer on first thing in the morning (being early, since I am on paternity leave).
So I am baffled by the whole event. I can only gain consolation knowing that it was a crap concert: there was only a fifteen minute standing ovation.
Both Mum and Dad love music. Dad likes to fluff around on the piano, and spent most of his teenage years surrounded by synths, drum-machines and sequencers, and then in Luxembourg (where he met Mum) he became a DJ, playing some music called “Trance”; mum played the tuba and balalajka (I don’t even want to start thinking about that combination), and has a broad taste in music, as well as very musical parents (unlike Dad’s, who have problems knowing the difference between the piano and pea-soup).
So it isn’t surprising that I’m subjected to an overwhelming amount of music. I can recognise a number of instruments within individual songs, which seems to impress Mum and Dad, though, if truth be told, that isn’t a difficult task: going to the toilet on the toilet sends them into raptures (and earns me a multi-coloured dragonfly sticker to put on my cupboard).
Dad has been teaching me to descry the guitar sound in one of his favourite songs from a band known as Depeche Mode. The song is from their latest CD, and is called Precious, and he thinks it’s their best release for quite some time. I like it too, but I don’t know whether it’s because I actually like the track, because Dad likes it (and I get caught up in his euphoria), or whether it’s because I’m guarenteed a dance in his arms whenever it’s played.
I love, of course, Dr Bombay and Dr MacDoo, and Dad’s trance stuff (which I call “boom, boom, boom”) is both relaxing ( I got to hear a fair bit when I was inside Mum’s tummy) and great fun (I get to dance with both Mum and Dad).
I know they are going to continue this musical education, but there seems to be a ban on someone who I believe to be “Bruce Springsteen”, whoever the fuck he is.
Today is the day that Swedes living in the city instinctively flock in hordes to the countryside, eat lots of food, drink schnaps, drink wine, drink beer, dance around a phallic symbol pretending to be (amongst other things) frogs, drink a bit more and fall over in amusing ways that only alcohol can be the cause of: it’s the day before Midsummers Day.
This is the first year we haven’t been up in the north during this time, choosing the alternative that is Stockholm. We went to celebrate in Södermalm, an island just south of the city centre, and were taken aback by how few people there were. It was like 28 Days Later or such other zombie films, where the main character wakes up, realises there’s no milk in the fridge and trots off to the cornershop where he (it is always a he) gets an eerie feeling that all is not as it’s supposed to be.
We did have milk on this occassion (lots, as it happens), which is where the similarites differ; we also failed to encounter any kind of undead intent on ripping us apart and eating our brains (another difference between the fantasy world of the denizens of evil and our more life-celebrating outing, which I’m rather gald about).
So, walking through town to our destination, Vitabergsparken, was an interesting experience, likened (forget the zombie analogy) to an early Sunday morning. It was only when we arrived at the park that we felt like city-slickers again; music, refreshments, frog-imitating families were all in place. I didn’t dance, not knowing the lyrics or actions, but Jo and Freya hopped a bit.
It was the least stressful inner-city excursion I’ve had the pleasure to be a part of, and one I’d gladly consider doing again.
Playing games on mobile phones has never really appealed to me. This lack of interest stems from two major niggles: screen size/resolution, and an uncomfortable control system.
While the latter has yet to be rectified, technology has allowed for impressively clear graphics on Jo’s and my current phone. And so, when Jo recently expressed an interest in downloading a game or two (two being my interpretation), I was only too glad to have a valid reason to challenge my prejudice.
For Jo I found a conversion of one of the first, and best, puzzlers on the PSP: Lumines
A game reminiscent of Tetris, with loads of other new ideas thrown in, Lumines comes from the man behind the brilliant PS2 release, Rez. With this in mind, I knew it would offer an enjoyable game experience, as long as the conversion was decent.
So far, with the exception of the lack of decent (and interactive) music that the original offers, I’m impressed with the gameplay (though it’s still fiddly) and, in particular, the clarity and sharpness of the graphics. 1-0, then, to Mobile Phones vs Grouchy Jon.
Next, for me, because I knew I’d easily get frustrated with a game that requires microcosmic manual dexterity, I chose Chess Master.
Now, I consider myself to be okay at chess. I have a good opening play, but start to show ineptitude when the game opens up, and then fuffle about thereafter with varying degrees of failiure; however, I’d still rate myself as average (bare this in mind).
To bring myself into the game, I first chose “Monkey” level (pfft!), the easiest, and won convincingly (Who’s your daddy?). Next up, “Child” (snigger), and…I’m being beaten like a schoolboy mischief in the 1920s.
There are eleven difficulty levels to choose from, and I’m being soundly rogered by an opponent that is two levels easier than “Beginner”. This is clearly a case of mistaken identity; I just said I was average, which to me means at least the equivalent of beginner. I am a shadow of the person I thought I was, and the only explanation I can find (ooh, a Carpenters song floats into my head) is that I simply do not have the time and concentration available to beat such a simple opponent.
Actually, that is a fair enough comment. I do rush through my game, because of either family or (currently) football interuptions, so I will give this a thumbs-up, though perhaps chess is not the best game to be testing the capabilities of today’s mobiles.
Footnote: I actually gained a stalemate in a “Child” match last night. And I should have won, had I not stupidly forced a draw.