Saturday, December 11, 2004
Politically Incorrect
Okay, seeing as I have this chronic Foot In Mouth Syndrome, I'm just going to shoot my mouth off once more.
This time I think I'll just incur the wrath of a few individuals (including the Nutplane, seeing as it's her job...) rather than the mass enmity I earned myself the last time I posted an actual Opinion on here. But what the hey, its gotta be said and it'll just chafe at me otherwise, so here goes nothing.
The Moblog Awards, sponsored by - take a wild guess... go on, you can do it, think Singapore Idol, think MMS voting (lame, lame, lame!!!!! Who really won that day, think about it?)... think further back to the NDP moblogs and even further back to mydreamd8 and SMS commenting on blogs... yeah that's right, Singtel!
I think it really, honestly sucks.
I read some of the blogs today, suffering from a temporary leave of sanity (am currently surfing the post on-call endorphine high) and damn, some of the chicks are hot, and sure, a few can string sentences together pretty well, dispelling that adage about inverse proportionality of bust size and brains (although, to this cynic, just reaffirming the wonders of cosmetic enhancement surgery in today's crooked world. hubba hubba, private practice here I come...) but, but and but.
These "blogs", they're not by writers. This is just another lame money making scam hosted by money-hungry monopolist, Singtel. And the depressing thing is it'll probably work, too.
I mean some of the "contestants" are clearly models, and sure, they can write. But come this time next year and those blogs will be gone. Here today, gone tomorrow - created with the express purpose of winning a competition. There is no love for writing there, although certainly, there is aptitude.
Half the contestants write prettily about... absolutely nothing at all. Reading them is addictive, what with their sexy pictures plastered here and there and their little indiscreet semi-sexposes about their lives... but it leaves this reader unsated, and feeling a disgruntled sense of... something. Something is lacking. And that is conviction, and sincerity.
I guess it's certainly a step up from the competitions of yesteryear, when half the contestants couldn't even string sentences together, even given a yard of yarn and a pint of sellys super-stick glue. And the competition went on, nonetheless - then, it was really all about pictures.
I'll be the first to confess that some of the contestants this time around appear to have brains as well, and many are certainly attractive for their confidence, apparent poise, and yes, their looks as well.
It's sort of like a Miss Universe contest, only using internet media as the platform. This time next year, all the runner ups, and all the second runner ups will be forgotten in the haze of the past, and even Miss Uniblog herself will be sidelined somewhere seeling cosmetic products, or mebbe... world peace. Okay, that was harsh; she'll probably be a multibillionairess married to some rich old fogey and spoiling herself silly being the princess of her dreams.
(Sigh, sometimes I just have to wonder if being born female might have been more fun...)
I dunno why it bothers me, but it does. This product is sleeker and shinier than the last; it's been improved - but the fundamental design flaw remains.
And we're not supposed to be able to notice - because it's wearing a shinier facade?
(apologies to any mobloggers I may have offended, and may I say your photo galleries are all very edible indeed.)
*****
The Thin Line
Speaking of attraction, I'll be the first to confess that I find some (although not necessarily all) of my female friends attractive.
Armchair philosophers have it that there must be a degree of attraction in the first place for people to become friends - since friendship is, in itself, a relationship.
I think that's a load of piffle. Balderdash. (No offence, agoogoowhositwossname)
I'm not attracted to some of my female friends - certainly not in the way I attribute meaning to the word - although I really enjoy hanging out with them and chilling, and its always a bummer when you lose them to marriage, or other men / life circumstances / women (yeah it's happened).
(Oh yeah... and / or enjoying freebies thanks to the attention from rabid males that they generate... heh heh) (although it must also be noted that watching old friends get enthusiastically felt up their skirts by random strangers at dodgy clubs is not necessarily as pleasant an experience as it sounds)
But here's the disclaimer - even with those friends whom I feel attracted to - physically / intellectually - I don't take that flying leap that... people used to - myself included, unfortunately - attempt to goad forlorn writers like the author of AmongstOtherThings into.
It's one thing to be attracted to / flirt with a friend, and quite another to try to hook up with them. I'd have to have a major brain injury to want to move in on some of the chicks I know (and even then, I have a funny feeling I'd rather just lay in bed and stare at my iv drip dribbling to expiration, drop by excruciating drop, the way most of our brain injured patients tend to do)... whether it be a question of obvious incompatabilities, irritating (read - maddeningly irritating) quirks, or plain and simple lack of trust -- yes, this does sound funny, but I don't trust some of my friends, or rather, I'd trust them as a friend, but not as a partner.
So yeah, that's a bit of a bummer. Guess I'm condemned to ogling med students. Heh heh heh heh heh.
*****
Speaking of which, who needs soap operas when you can get all the melodrama you want, involving young and fresh-faced barely post-teen kids arguing loudly and passionately in public over their stormy love lives??
I'm talking about med students again. In hospital corridors and waiting areas.
Man, the world I knew and grew up in is fast becoming a thing of the past.
Think I'll just hunker down with my popcorn. Heh heh heh eh hehh.
This time I think I'll just incur the wrath of a few individuals (including the Nutplane, seeing as it's her job...) rather than the mass enmity I earned myself the last time I posted an actual Opinion on here. But what the hey, its gotta be said and it'll just chafe at me otherwise, so here goes nothing.
The Moblog Awards, sponsored by - take a wild guess... go on, you can do it, think Singapore Idol, think MMS voting (lame, lame, lame!!!!! Who really won that day, think about it?)... think further back to the NDP moblogs and even further back to mydreamd8 and SMS commenting on blogs... yeah that's right, Singtel!
I think it really, honestly sucks.
I read some of the blogs today, suffering from a temporary leave of sanity (am currently surfing the post on-call endorphine high) and damn, some of the chicks are hot, and sure, a few can string sentences together pretty well, dispelling that adage about inverse proportionality of bust size and brains (although, to this cynic, just reaffirming the wonders of cosmetic enhancement surgery in today's crooked world. hubba hubba, private practice here I come...) but, but and but.
These "blogs", they're not by writers. This is just another lame money making scam hosted by money-hungry monopolist, Singtel. And the depressing thing is it'll probably work, too.
I mean some of the "contestants" are clearly models, and sure, they can write. But come this time next year and those blogs will be gone. Here today, gone tomorrow - created with the express purpose of winning a competition. There is no love for writing there, although certainly, there is aptitude.
Half the contestants write prettily about... absolutely nothing at all. Reading them is addictive, what with their sexy pictures plastered here and there and their little indiscreet semi-sexposes about their lives... but it leaves this reader unsated, and feeling a disgruntled sense of... something. Something is lacking. And that is conviction, and sincerity.
I guess it's certainly a step up from the competitions of yesteryear, when half the contestants couldn't even string sentences together, even given a yard of yarn and a pint of sellys super-stick glue. And the competition went on, nonetheless - then, it was really all about pictures.
I'll be the first to confess that some of the contestants this time around appear to have brains as well, and many are certainly attractive for their confidence, apparent poise, and yes, their looks as well.
It's sort of like a Miss Universe contest, only using internet media as the platform. This time next year, all the runner ups, and all the second runner ups will be forgotten in the haze of the past, and even Miss Uniblog herself will be sidelined somewhere seeling cosmetic products, or mebbe... world peace. Okay, that was harsh; she'll probably be a multibillionairess married to some rich old fogey and spoiling herself silly being the princess of her dreams.
(Sigh, sometimes I just have to wonder if being born female might have been more fun...)
I dunno why it bothers me, but it does. This product is sleeker and shinier than the last; it's been improved - but the fundamental design flaw remains.
And we're not supposed to be able to notice - because it's wearing a shinier facade?
(apologies to any mobloggers I may have offended, and may I say your photo galleries are all very edible indeed.)
*****
The Thin Line
Speaking of attraction, I'll be the first to confess that I find some (although not necessarily all) of my female friends attractive.
Armchair philosophers have it that there must be a degree of attraction in the first place for people to become friends - since friendship is, in itself, a relationship.
I think that's a load of piffle. Balderdash. (No offence, agoogoowhositwossname)
I'm not attracted to some of my female friends - certainly not in the way I attribute meaning to the word - although I really enjoy hanging out with them and chilling, and its always a bummer when you lose them to marriage, or other men / life circumstances / women (yeah it's happened).
(Oh yeah... and / or enjoying freebies thanks to the attention from rabid males that they generate... heh heh) (although it must also be noted that watching old friends get enthusiastically felt up their skirts by random strangers at dodgy clubs is not necessarily as pleasant an experience as it sounds)
But here's the disclaimer - even with those friends whom I feel attracted to - physically / intellectually - I don't take that flying leap that... people used to - myself included, unfortunately - attempt to goad forlorn writers like the author of AmongstOtherThings into.
It's one thing to be attracted to / flirt with a friend, and quite another to try to hook up with them. I'd have to have a major brain injury to want to move in on some of the chicks I know (and even then, I have a funny feeling I'd rather just lay in bed and stare at my iv drip dribbling to expiration, drop by excruciating drop, the way most of our brain injured patients tend to do)... whether it be a question of obvious incompatabilities, irritating (read - maddeningly irritating) quirks, or plain and simple lack of trust -- yes, this does sound funny, but I don't trust some of my friends, or rather, I'd trust them as a friend, but not as a partner.
So yeah, that's a bit of a bummer. Guess I'm condemned to ogling med students. Heh heh heh heh heh.
*****
Speaking of which, who needs soap operas when you can get all the melodrama you want, involving young and fresh-faced barely post-teen kids arguing loudly and passionately in public over their stormy love lives??
I'm talking about med students again. In hospital corridors and waiting areas.
Man, the world I knew and grew up in is fast becoming a thing of the past.
Think I'll just hunker down with my popcorn. Heh heh heh eh hehh.
