Well I just experienced one of the most frustrating things ever.
Funny, before I bought a MacBook everyone was telling me how great Macs were for creative stuff. Apparently, you can make all kinds of things with one. It's got all sorts of toys you can use to make stuff like music clips and home movies and all that jazz. It just doesn't seem to come with the bog standard features that you get on any Windows machine.
There's no real analogue for WordPad, (heck, the text editor is barely an analogue for Text), it doesn't come with lovely distracting card games (okay, there's chess – but, what the?), iTunes won't let you do half the stuff Windows Media does (unless you pay for an upgrade) and, as I discovered to my horror today, there's no analogue for Paint.
This thing which is supposed to be the creative's best friend does not have a drawing programme included in the basic set-up. Come on, people, if Windows can do it, it can't be that hard!
Oh, I'm sure you can buy a wonderful program that can do that sort of stuff, but a) Mac programs are hideously expensive, so I've been avoiding them, and b) it's 21.30 and I don't feel like shopping – I just want to draw something.
“Okay,” she says, thinking laterally, “You've got Open Office installed on this thing in order to avoid paying for a word processor. There's a thingy called 'Draw' as part of that package – that must surely be an adequate work around.”
Yeah, not so much. As drawing tools go, OO's Draw is soooo much less useful than Paint that I became almost entirely convinced I'd have an easier time if I just picked up my hand-drawn copy and tried to force it into the machine using my amazing mental powers. Then, by the time I had finally created something that looked absolutely terrible compared to what I could have done with Paint, I discovered you can't actually save it as anything other than an Open Office Draw file. No jpg, no gif, no tif. Well, there was the option of pdf, but I wanted an image, not a document.
Were I using a windows machine I would say to myself: “No problem, I'll just get the whole thing on my screen, press “Print Screen” and paste it into something like Irfanview. Only, a) there's no physical way I can get the whole thing on the screen given the less than useful ratios provided by this model of MacBook, and b) there's no printscreen button, so I'd have to go through some stupid time-wasting screen capture rigmarole. Oh, and c) I don't have a program like Irfanview installed on this machine, and I can't be bothered doing it now.
Quite frankly, I'm over it.
Especially since I've already had my share of annoyingly fruitless activities this afternoon. Do you know how difficult it is to find the Estonian word for “square” (as in “draw a square using Paint”)? Not one of my dictionaries was willing to admit that in English usage the word “square” can be a noun. I finally found the word for “quadrangle” (“nelinurk”), but each dictionary would only give me the nominative form. I needed the genative to make the sentences I wanted. So then I went ploughing through a few vocabulary lists to see if I could find a word with a similar spelling structure so I could guess what the genetive form might be. That proved to be about as useful as a cheeseburger to a drowning elephant. There were about six different things to choose from and no guides in sight.
Stupid Estonian and its stupid case forms. Why can't they just use prepositions like the rest of us?
So, yeah, if any one responsible for deciding what programs are included in your basic MacBook set-up is reading this: Paint rules, and you could at least try to match it, you misers. And make it available for us poor mugs who already have MacBooks to download for free. It's the only way I'm going to stop whinging about this.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Cake
Everything we eat these days is basically cake.
No, I mean it - think about the ingredients you'd find in a packet cake mix from the fifties. Tada! That's the contents of most of the things in your pantry. And your fridge and freezer.
Okay, how good is your kitchen know-how? What are the basic ingredients of any stock-standard cake? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and a pinch of salt. Eggs are nice, but you don't really need them.
Sausages are made of flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. So are chips/crisps with flavouring. That packet of pasta and sauce you were going to use with your steak tonight? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. That tin of condensed tomato soup? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt.
The spaghetti you ate last night? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. The can of bolognese sauce you had with it? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt.
It's all cake, my friends. It's just spaghetti bolognese flavoured cake.
Okay, sure, technically fruit isn't cake. But those "fruit bars" you buy in boxes of plastic wrapped portions? Those are cake. And maybe that piece of steak isn't cake - but those meatballs definitely are.
Oh, and those "breakfast shakes" they have for people who are too busy to eat cereal? Liquid cake. Speaking of cereal, most of that is cake, too.
"How can we avoid eating cake for every single meal?" I hear you ask, although I don't know why you bothered because we all know you don't care. I mean, heck, it's food. People are happiest when they are completely ignorant of what they're actually putting in their mouths.
No one says, "My, this hamburger is delicious - what's in the patty? Oh, and while we're at it, what's this bun made of?"*
The answers to such questions are not for the vast majority of you petty, squeamish humans who, for some reason, can happily eat any given food-stuff for years up until someone actually tells you what's in it. Then, suddenly, it's all "Oh, I can't eat that! It contains parts of animals I would rather pretend didn't exist!"
Well, get over it. And get over the cake thing, too.
The alternative is to make the food yourself. You know, start with the ingredients and mix them together? People used to do that, once. Back when they would know exactly what they put in their mouths, and were perfectly okay with that.
Of course, that's actually not a guarantee that you won't be eating cake for every meal. A lot of these things always were cake. Take sausages, for example. The basic pork sausage recipe your great-grandmother used involved flour, milk, sugar, shortening, salt, blood and assorted minced bits of whatever-was-left-of-the-pig. Possibly some whatever-was-left-of-the-cow as well. Heck, if they were short on pig bits, they probably just used the blood. And, depending on where they came from and what they could afford, maybe not the sugar. But still, sausage has always been animal flavoured cake (squeezed into something's intestines). Good stuff.
So really, once you start making your own food, you'll probably find yourself making a fair bit of cake-like things anyway.
So what's the problem?
Well, I guess the real problem isn't that we're eating so much cake, but that we're eating so much bad cake. Manufacturers really don't care what they serve you, so long as you don't sue them, so they'll use the cheapest (read: worst) ingredients they can get away with. So, it's not that great, as cake goes.
Plus, something like 150 people made that tin of tuna in seeded mustard mayonnaise** you're eating, and not a single one of them knows you or cares about you in the slightest. Why do you think I used the concept of a packet cake mix from the 1950s? No one quite did "let's just serve them whatever we have lying around" quite like food manufactures in the 50s. Except, maybe, food manufacturers in China ("Hey, you know what would increase our profits? Let's put less milk in the milk and replace it with something that looks white. No one will ever notice...")
Food manufacturers. Pfft. Just another bad idea to come out after the Industrial Revolution.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, cake.
You really need to think of anything you buy ready made as cake. That is, of course, no reason why you shouldn't buy it and eat it, as long as you are okay with the crappy cake-iness of it. But I think it is helpful to be aware of what you're eating, even if you then decide it's not a problem. Plus, it makes you less shocked and alarmed when you discover you have a wheat allergy and everything on the shelves has some kind of flour content. Of course it does - it's cake.
But, the main reason why you should recognise and understand that the bowl of cereal you were thinking of having for breakfast is actually really bad cake is simple: you can make yourself a chocolate cake out of quality ingredients and know that you are actually eating something no worse than the "real food" - in fact, most probably much better!
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Bill Cosby was right - chocolate cake is a perfectly acceptable breakfast food. Probably just as acceptable for lunch and dinner. It's certainly no worse than half the other stuff you shove into your mouths for these meals.
This knowledge is my gift to you. Enjoy.
*That would be cake, and cake
**Also cake
No, I mean it - think about the ingredients you'd find in a packet cake mix from the fifties. Tada! That's the contents of most of the things in your pantry. And your fridge and freezer.
Okay, how good is your kitchen know-how? What are the basic ingredients of any stock-standard cake? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and a pinch of salt. Eggs are nice, but you don't really need them.
Sausages are made of flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. So are chips/crisps with flavouring. That packet of pasta and sauce you were going to use with your steak tonight? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. That tin of condensed tomato soup? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt.
The spaghetti you ate last night? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt. The can of bolognese sauce you had with it? Flour, milk, sugar, shortening and salt.
It's all cake, my friends. It's just spaghetti bolognese flavoured cake.
Okay, sure, technically fruit isn't cake. But those "fruit bars" you buy in boxes of plastic wrapped portions? Those are cake. And maybe that piece of steak isn't cake - but those meatballs definitely are.
Oh, and those "breakfast shakes" they have for people who are too busy to eat cereal? Liquid cake. Speaking of cereal, most of that is cake, too.
"How can we avoid eating cake for every single meal?" I hear you ask, although I don't know why you bothered because we all know you don't care. I mean, heck, it's food. People are happiest when they are completely ignorant of what they're actually putting in their mouths.
No one says, "My, this hamburger is delicious - what's in the patty? Oh, and while we're at it, what's this bun made of?"*
The answers to such questions are not for the vast majority of you petty, squeamish humans who, for some reason, can happily eat any given food-stuff for years up until someone actually tells you what's in it. Then, suddenly, it's all "Oh, I can't eat that! It contains parts of animals I would rather pretend didn't exist!"
Well, get over it. And get over the cake thing, too.
The alternative is to make the food yourself. You know, start with the ingredients and mix them together? People used to do that, once. Back when they would know exactly what they put in their mouths, and were perfectly okay with that.
Of course, that's actually not a guarantee that you won't be eating cake for every meal. A lot of these things always were cake. Take sausages, for example. The basic pork sausage recipe your great-grandmother used involved flour, milk, sugar, shortening, salt, blood and assorted minced bits of whatever-was-left-of-the-pig. Possibly some whatever-was-left-of-the-cow as well. Heck, if they were short on pig bits, they probably just used the blood. And, depending on where they came from and what they could afford, maybe not the sugar. But still, sausage has always been animal flavoured cake (squeezed into something's intestines). Good stuff.
So really, once you start making your own food, you'll probably find yourself making a fair bit of cake-like things anyway.
So what's the problem?
Well, I guess the real problem isn't that we're eating so much cake, but that we're eating so much bad cake. Manufacturers really don't care what they serve you, so long as you don't sue them, so they'll use the cheapest (read: worst) ingredients they can get away with. So, it's not that great, as cake goes.
Plus, something like 150 people made that tin of tuna in seeded mustard mayonnaise** you're eating, and not a single one of them knows you or cares about you in the slightest. Why do you think I used the concept of a packet cake mix from the 1950s? No one quite did "let's just serve them whatever we have lying around" quite like food manufactures in the 50s. Except, maybe, food manufacturers in China ("Hey, you know what would increase our profits? Let's put less milk in the milk and replace it with something that looks white. No one will ever notice...")
Food manufacturers. Pfft. Just another bad idea to come out after the Industrial Revolution.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, cake.
You really need to think of anything you buy ready made as cake. That is, of course, no reason why you shouldn't buy it and eat it, as long as you are okay with the crappy cake-iness of it. But I think it is helpful to be aware of what you're eating, even if you then decide it's not a problem. Plus, it makes you less shocked and alarmed when you discover you have a wheat allergy and everything on the shelves has some kind of flour content. Of course it does - it's cake.
But, the main reason why you should recognise and understand that the bowl of cereal you were thinking of having for breakfast is actually really bad cake is simple: you can make yourself a chocolate cake out of quality ingredients and know that you are actually eating something no worse than the "real food" - in fact, most probably much better!
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Bill Cosby was right - chocolate cake is a perfectly acceptable breakfast food. Probably just as acceptable for lunch and dinner. It's certainly no worse than half the other stuff you shove into your mouths for these meals.
This knowledge is my gift to you. Enjoy.
*That would be cake, and cake
**Also cake
Postage
Apparently I'm not writing posts with sufficient regularity to keep my aunt from boredom. Personally, I think that's a sign she needs to read more comics. I have links to a couple of my favourite webcomics on this blog (although Little Dee is sadly over, you can still read the entire archive), and there are plenty of decent newspaper strips available online as well.
Plus, you have the added bonus of reading something that's, frankly, much more coherent than most of my conversations.
Comics. They're good for what ails ya.
Plus, you have the added bonus of reading something that's, frankly, much more coherent than most of my conversations.
Comics. They're good for what ails ya.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Little Dee is Done
Little Dee is over. All good things must come to an end, I suppose.
There's going to be a gaping hole in my iGoogle page, though.
There's going to be a gaping hole in my iGoogle page, though.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Dialogue
I have come to the conclusion that the people who write dialogue for language textbooks are either drunk or suffering from some sort of acquired brain injury.
Okay, so repetition is meant to help solidify concepts and give you a better chance of remembering the vocabulary. I accept that, and I can understand why "practice dialogue" would use the same words a couple of times. But, honestly, this sort of exchange is just ridiculous:
"I live in the country. My family also lives in the country. My mother and father live in the country, and my sister and brother live in the country."
"I also live in the country. I was born in the country. My family also lives in the country. My mother lives in the country, and my father also lives in the country."
This in an actual example of a conversation in a language book I've been working through lately, only translated into English and with a few lines removed. Believe it or not, the conversation went on to further explain how the participants' families did, indeed, live in the country.
The first couple of sentences may have been an interesting challenge, the rest is a) a waste of words, and b) practically screaming: "look at me! I'm pedagogical dialogue that will never be encountered in real life!"
Under what circumstances would two people actually engage in such a conversation? Where would you find two people who are so uncertain about whether their conversation partner understands what is meant by "my family lives in the country" that they would go to great lengths to explain how each individual member of their families lives in the country?
At which point does someone turn around and shout: "I don't care! Go away!"
Or, to enter into the spirit of things:
"I don't care. My family doesn't care. My father doesn't care and my mother also doesn't care. My sister and my brother do not care. I'm reasonably certain my cat and dog do not care, either. Now please go away."
Something vaguely resembling a realistic conversation. That's all I'm asking for, people.
Okay, so repetition is meant to help solidify concepts and give you a better chance of remembering the vocabulary. I accept that, and I can understand why "practice dialogue" would use the same words a couple of times. But, honestly, this sort of exchange is just ridiculous:
"I live in the country. My family also lives in the country. My mother and father live in the country, and my sister and brother live in the country."
"I also live in the country. I was born in the country. My family also lives in the country. My mother lives in the country, and my father also lives in the country."
This in an actual example of a conversation in a language book I've been working through lately, only translated into English and with a few lines removed. Believe it or not, the conversation went on to further explain how the participants' families did, indeed, live in the country.
The first couple of sentences may have been an interesting challenge, the rest is a) a waste of words, and b) practically screaming: "look at me! I'm pedagogical dialogue that will never be encountered in real life!"
Under what circumstances would two people actually engage in such a conversation? Where would you find two people who are so uncertain about whether their conversation partner understands what is meant by "my family lives in the country" that they would go to great lengths to explain how each individual member of their families lives in the country?
At which point does someone turn around and shout: "I don't care! Go away!"
Or, to enter into the spirit of things:
"I don't care. My family doesn't care. My father doesn't care and my mother also doesn't care. My sister and my brother do not care. I'm reasonably certain my cat and dog do not care, either. Now please go away."
Something vaguely resembling a realistic conversation. That's all I'm asking for, people.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Aino Chapter 4 - We Sneak Behind the Iron Curtain
So, I noticed I'd let it go four weeks since I last posted a chapter of Aino.
Sadly, no one else noticed and nagged me, which means my brilliant plan of getting you lot to act as my deadline enforcers may not be working.
I'm trying to convince myself it's because two-weeks is too long for short attention spans, and not because you don't care.
You know, back in the Victorian period there was a whole month between chapters for serialised novels.
Crazy stuff, eh?
Anyway, the latest chapter of Aino is here: Chapter Four - We Sneak Behind the Iron Curtain
In this chapter, we find out what our Narrator thinks of van Havien's idea. Something else might happen, too. Perhaps involving teeth.
Sadly, no one else noticed and nagged me, which means my brilliant plan of getting you lot to act as my deadline enforcers may not be working.
I'm trying to convince myself it's because two-weeks is too long for short attention spans, and not because you don't care.
You know, back in the Victorian period there was a whole month between chapters for serialised novels.
Crazy stuff, eh?
Anyway, the latest chapter of Aino is here: Chapter Four - We Sneak Behind the Iron Curtain
In this chapter, we find out what our Narrator thinks of van Havien's idea. Something else might happen, too. Perhaps involving teeth.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Mul on Ananass
In what is quite possibly a hideously ill-conceived idea, I've created yet another blog. Sort of.
I've decided that, if I'm going to make any real progress with learning Estonian, I'd better start trying to use the language for something. Since I'm not yet up to paragraphs, I thought I'd better stick with sentences.
How do you make a sentence worth reading? Stick it in a picture.
Thus Mul on ananass exists. Although, perhaps, it shouldn't.
Let's have someone who can't draw create a comic in a language they barely know. Doesn't that sound brilliant?
If you're lucky, I might start mixing some German in there, too. Just to make sure no one can ever understand anything.
I've decided that, if I'm going to make any real progress with learning Estonian, I'd better start trying to use the language for something. Since I'm not yet up to paragraphs, I thought I'd better stick with sentences.
How do you make a sentence worth reading? Stick it in a picture.
Thus Mul on ananass exists. Although, perhaps, it shouldn't.
Let's have someone who can't draw create a comic in a language they barely know. Doesn't that sound brilliant?
If you're lucky, I might start mixing some German in there, too. Just to make sure no one can ever understand anything.
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