Nearly ... nearly ... nearly

So, by the time I post this it won't be 2014 yet.

I've been quiet, haven't I? I apologise, though I did give due warning. NewWork has been busy. Actually really quite busy. But that's good. I was getting bored back at OldWork, and this is allowing me mentally to justify my ridiculously massive wage. Well, for me.

But whereas I had time to read the news and write, today I have little. Well, until the holidays.

I shortchanged myself on holidays. At OldWork I had accrued but not taken 9 days. I was always cautious of taking them early in the year in case I got a new job and ending up having deductions from my last wage for holidays taken but not earned. This lead to me back-ending my holidays for the four years I was at OldWork (work which was supposed to be temporary). I was perpetually in search of a new job, so saved up my holiday so that - at the least - I'd have nothing to repay, and at best could get paid.

Which is what happened. I got the NewJob at the end of July; got paid 6 days holiday from OldJob (as they'd paid me for the full month, but I left 3 days early) but went straight into NewJob. This meant that I missed out on 9 days holiday - getting paid for them instead. That's almost 2 weeks off.

Then, I had to contend with NewJob telling me that my section of the office shut down between Christmas and New Year. So it didn't leave me much holiday.

I have almost certainly mentioned before that as well as the logistical reasoning for back-ending my holiday; there is a very practical one too. It's my birthday a week before Christmas. It is impossible to organise anything with friends because they are busy or poor because of Christmas. So I started running away. I did New York and Paris. Last year I was in the Seychelles for reasons beyond my choice or control.

Anyhow, my annual holiday on my birthday (this year Norway) meant that my annual leave was accounted for. And that's pretty much the only concession I make to myself - that one holiday.

But then there are these forced days of holiday. The office has shut - I can't go in and earn them back. And even if I could, it would have had to be earlier in the year (well, six months). So I have three days - this year Friday 27th, Monday 30th and Tuesday 31st - between Christmas and New Year. The limbo days.

Normally I plan projects, and this winter (winter, not Christmas - I have until February to complete these before I have to start on the garden) I have three: greenhouse staging; lounge shelving and the HDMI cable. At date - 31st - I have completed half of the greenhouse staging. I meant to but the wood for the shelving but never got around to it because ... well, because I spent three days in bed. But I do still have two months to do the jobs.

The problem (s) is that. I have two months - no urgency. No need to get up. I spent two of my three days enforced holiday in bed. That said, Norway was exhausting. I got at most 20 hours sleep over the entire 7 days away. So I sort-of justify the lazy days on that basis.

Then there is the sleep pattern clash with shop pattern. The purchasing that I need to do for the shelving needs to be done at a timber yard. Over the Christmas period their opening periods are erratic but early. I slip into a pattern where I get out of bed at lunch and stay awake until 4/5/6am in the mornings. If I had to work I would not have attached myself to this pattern, but retained waking between 7 and 9. Hopefully.

Now, this has happened for 5 years. Whilst at OldWork the office was open the three days between, because for me it was such a long commute; and because my colleagues were eager to get away from their families for the days in between; I could take the limbo days off. But don't forget that back then I would be getting up at 5:45am to leave the house for 6:30am to get the trains to get to work for 8:30am; and because of the return journey I wouldn't get home until 7pm. And that, for a VERY quiet day just wasn't worth it when I had colleagues more than willing to work them for me.

So, are the three days off worth it? Perhaps not now (I used to get a substantially better holiday allowance; though as said - the three days off at NewJob are pretty much forced). It does allow me a nice long break; though that break allows me to develop routines out of kilter with the commercial world. But if I already have the stuff in to do the jobs, I get the jobs done. And bear in mind the three limbo days (for normal office workers, not shift workers) are almost always punctuated with a weekend in the middle, is would jar someone to go in for a day here and there over the period.

Anyhow, worse problems present themselves: the ever-present problem of what to do for New Year's Eve?

Whatever happens will be an anticlimax. We work ourselves up into expecting the best night of the year, and it isn't because those best nights happen either spontaneously, or personally rather than unanimously.

So, this year what are my options?

Well, they are all hampered somewhat by it being New Year the next day. Sounds daft; but that means there are very limited buses and trains running. So I either drive (not fun as a single person where I don't have a counterpart to keep me company whilst everyone else is doing coupley things) or do things locally; or do things within a limited public transport schedule.

I have also pole-axed myself slightly. I have committed myself to a family event at high noon on New Year's Day. So I have to be back home for around 11.

I have offers from London. I would have to get the 09:30am train back to get there. The likelihood of that is slim-to-nil (when you have to consider I have to get from Finsbury Park to the station before 9:30).

I have offers from Manchester and Newcastle. They can't happen if I'm to do the family meal. In fact, they can't happen if I am to work on the 2nd January because of transport shut-downs.

I have an offer reasonably locally - the next town. But it's a ballache getting out there. Yes, the buses carry on running throughout the night; and I could get a 10am bus (again, not amazing) to get me back well in time. And one of my friend's will sleeze on me. He does it every time he gets drunk. He did it Saturday. It was his birthday and 10pm he was rubbing my arse; despite me trying to shoulder him off because I got chatting to someone lovely (very lovely). He was still there; not just rebuffing my advances; but redoubling his efforts to win me back from who I actually wanted to be with. And this night would involve staying over the night. At his.

Or I could stay local. On my own. Apparently no-one is going out around town. But that's no issue. I know of a local bar doing gigs; and I would be ok there on my own. But it's not the way to spend it is it?

Should I just stay home?

After all - it's just another day.

Brand New Me, Brand New Routine

So, I'm all unsettled.

I get up later. I get up at an almost sensible time. My alarm goes off at 7am; as opposed to 5:30am like it used to. But this doesn't - yet - mean that I have adapted my sleeping pattern to take this into account. I still, regularly, wake at around 5 or 5:30am for no apparent reason (sometimes for a pee).

So, I should be getting more sleep and therefore making more of my weekends? Well, as yet, not yet. But like I say, my daytime sleep is still disturbed. And I've always loved my bed. Hence why this weekend, even despite the weekly sleep issues, I managed to stay in bed until 2pm on each day. Two days almost lost.

But, the new job has had more effects that just what my sleep should be (which I hope will sort itself).

Why did my alarm go off at 5:30am? Because I had to leave the house at 6:30am to get to the train station. I had to walk for around 20mins at my end; and around 30mins from the station to work. And the same back in the evening. So about 1 1/2 hours of brisk walking per day.

That's gone.

I now sit in a car for 1 1/2 hours a day.

So I have to find that exercise from somewhere. At the minute I am making sure I get a good 40min walk on most lunch hours. Then, I went jogging on Tuesday. But this clearly has to increase. Otherwise I'll end up fat.

So yes, the exercise regime has to change. And it may do by adjusting my alarm a couple of days a week to get me up earlier, though still at a decent time (6:30am) to pop out for a jog. I'm still getting the extra half-hour sleep than what I would have in my old job; but a bit of a run on top.

Winter should be fine when I'm not rushing home of an evening to do the gardening. When it's dark I'll either be exercising or doing DIY.

But that's the exercise, which needs developing.

Whilst the lack of exercise can be compensated against the increase in sleep (hopefully); the lack of both tv and 'fitty' watching has been noticeable.

So, on the trains I spent a lot of time watching tv. Well, pretty much an hour every morning and evening. 2 hours a day. That's a lot of time. Now, I spend those hours driving. I can't do anything with those hours. They are dead to me. They are 10 hours a week I have lost. Of tv. So I have to cover that time at home - watch that tv at home.

And then there is the holiday.

At old work I could earn an extra half-day holiday per month by working half an hour of my lunch hour twice a week. So I did that on a Tuesday and Thursday and earned an extra 12 half days a year. 6 full days a year, on top of a generous 28 day holiday meant that I could get 34 days.

Now, I get 23 days. No time-off-in-lieu. Nothing.That said, I often struggled to use my holiday up during the year.

And finally there is the shopping.

At old work, the big supermarket was a five-minute walk away. Perfect for those Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays that I had the time to shop. Now, the closest supermarket is a good ten-minute drive away. And back. Meaning on my lunch hour I would have 40 mins to shop and eat. So I drop in at a supermarket on the home. Which is nice and good and convenient. But it means that on a Monday I get home no earlier than I would do if I were on the train at my old-job.

But then I get paid more. Am I happy with making these sacrifices to my life for more pay? Or would I rather less?

Quite.

Brand New Me

So, do you remember Brand New Year, Brand New Me? Well it has, albeit slightly belatedly, come to fruition.

That’s right – I have a new job. It isn't as though I've tried. And tried.

But it has all turned around very VERY quickly.

Just over three weeks ago - on Tuesday 9^th July - I was informed of the opportunity and submitted my application. I received a phonecall on the Wednesday inviting me for interview the next day and was offered the position on the Friday, handing my in notice on the following Monday. Five days of whirl.

Fortunately my employers were very generous in releasing me early. I neither like nor understand long, drawn-out goodbyes. Once a handover has been effected, is there any point in that person being there? While my old team will suffer from a slightly longer period of reduced capacity, even if I had given my full notice there would have been no opportunity to advertise, interview, recruit and train my replacement to provide absolutely seamless cover, let alone the 'business rule' that forbids paying two salaries for the same role; therefore as the inconvenience already existed I was not applying any greater distress.

It helped therefore that the new opportunity was desperate for me to start, and that it was a considerable bonus for myself over any other candidate that I could commence at very short notice. It also helped that they pay more: I would rather get the two months that I would otherwise have been on 'old pay' notice for at the new, higher wage instead.

So it’s all a massive, massive change. And it started Monday.

But I knew I was going to get the job. How?

Firstly, there are the similarities and coincidences with the recruitment for my current role. Both were desperate for anyone – all I had to do was be more eager to start than anyone else. As such the interview process was more a simple "fit for the role" rather than "absolute best ever". In the latter I have previously suffered as my role hasn't been a 'traditional' solicitor's role, so no-one has quite understood it.

Then they are both on industrial parks, rather than the heart of the town, with little around for entertainment. This may not seem like much, but you'd be surprised for how many people these site are either inaccessible (due to public transport) or unsuitable (due to work-life balance of shopping on a lunch hour. Yes, it's a thing. It's actually a thing that I had to contend with. Well, both of them. I bought a car for the new job as it was just a bit too inconvenient to do by public transport and walking to the local supermarket for my twice-weekly shop).

And then there is the fiver.

On the way back from the interview for my previous, 4 1/2 years established position I found a fiver on the pavement. I took this as a good omen at the time (not that I believe in omens, really). On the train on the way to the new role I found a fiver left on the seat. Mere coincidence, I know, but perhaps – as it was before rather than after – it gave me a certain confidence, a certain optimism which distinguished me.

Then there’s the finishes.

I had literally just used up all the credit on my canteen card for the first time working in my current role. Because you could only top up with 50p or £1, and everything cost 42p or such I always had a remnant, albeit a remnant I wouldn't mind discarding.

I also just finished reading my book (ironically on how randomness dictates our lives and how we see omens and patterns where they do not exist - don't read it, it's a lot of self-indulgent, self-aggrandising waffling).

And then the pub. When I first started in my old role I had to walk past a pub on the way from the station. Within days it had shut down and fell quickly into dereliction. Then they knocked it down and started building a care home. On my last day the care home opened its doors.

Then I had finished the tube of toothpaste. Now, this may sound a silly one, but it isn’t. I bought this tube of toothpaste around four years ago – shortly after starting this job. I went on a date in Birmingham, stayed over and went straight to work the next day; stopping in at the supermarket to buy a toothbrush and toothpaste. Gosh I wish my blog had covered that period - that was the Dishy Doctor David. This toothpaste then rattled around in my drawer for the ensuing years as I was convinced I would get another date and need it. I never did. A couple of months ago I took it home to use it up.

I’ve also had a tidy up round the home. Again, quite what effect any of these actually have on my positive mental attitude I’m unsure, but I have had dozens of concrete animals scattered around my garden that the women who lived there before left. I’ve been gradually getting rid of them, throwing out the last concrete frog in the bin disposal that happened on the day I got my offer. And in the bedroom I had a sort out, getting rid of a couple of plants that have been long expired but that I never quite had the heart to dispose of. 

And finally there was the tempting fate problem.

Total train chaos was to begin around my home city towards the end of July. They basically shut the train station. But I had prepared for this on the basis that I was to stay in my current job: I factored in the ridiculously early rail-replacement bus service that would have left at 06:35 (instead of an 07:10 train had the station not been closed) and bought a lot of packet fruit-juices and breakfast bars that I could have on the go instead of breakfast at home. Enough to cover those journey. And therefore far more than was necessary with the new job. Just nicely tempting fate.

What this does mean, though, is that I expect an impact on my ability to contribute here – for a number of reasons:

Firstly, a lot of the time and effort I have put in here has either been during lull moments at my current workplace; or whilst commuting on the train. I suspect lull moments will be few and far between in my new roll; and I know I will not be commuting but driving.

And my evenings are always busy. I do not get home much earlier than at the minute; and even if I do, as I will not be getting my daily exercise walking to and from the stations I will need to do more or simply get fat. I am currently investigating the possibility of jogging instead of sleeping.

But we shall see. If I am absent for a while, you know why!

When is a feature not a feature?

Gosh, has it really been 3 weeks? I apologise. But the post after today's may explain why.

With so much competition in technology these days, and such similar specifications, everything is trying to add value to differentiate themselves.

Take smart mobile phones. The hardware is not terribly dissimilar. Almost all phones have a front facing 3MP camera, and a back-mounted 8-10MP camera. The processors they use are pretty much the same; most have 16GB of internal storage; they mostly use the same operating system. The differences are mostly as to whether you want to go Apple or Android, and if the latter: a 4” screen, a 5” screen or a 6” screen.

So they try to differentiate by ‘adding value’. Samsung phones come with a particular suite of apps which is what they say makes the phone a Samsung, and therefore they say a better buy (though ultimately frustrating). From their perspective, once the app has been created, it costs them noting more to put on 1 phone or 10 million. And as anyone who has used iTunes will be aware – once they become reliant on your (proprietary) app, they’re stuck with you. They can’t go elsewhere without losing their music / contacts / life. It’s sticky added value. In a kinda nasty-sticky way.

But how useful are they? Or, more particularly, not the app but the features?

My reason for pondering is that I regularly get prompted by Dropbox to set up auto-synching for my photos; so that when I take a photo with my mobile it automatically uploads it to my Dropbox account. The Samsung app has a similar function, but to upload it to my Samsung backup account. Facebook has a similar function too.

But the problem with the Dropbox, is that the function is very limited in scope. Why?

Storage

Well, primarily because of the limits of the Dropbox account. I’ve ‘maxed’ my free account. You initially get given 2GB of space, but can get up to 18 GB of space to share. Cool. Except that my photo collection on my computer amounts to almost 100GB. This means that I don’t share all of my photo collection, just a selection. As such I don’t want every photo that I take storing on there. With Facebook your space is unlimited; but then the photos are compressed, so it doesn’t function well as a backup (we’ll ignore the privacyissues!) I have no idea about the Samsung account. But if it wants to act as a true backup, it has to store the original uncompressed file; automatically and provide sufficient space to be a full backup. Otherwise I have to undertake active space management. Which brings me on to…

Access 

If they are going to limit my space, it has to feel natural and intuitive for me to want to access the account on a regular basis. For example, when I was a Facebook user I would be landing on the Facebook page on a daily basis, so whilst it may have been slightly out of the way to access a possible ‘uploaded but not shared photos’ page, it wasn’t as though I was having to go out of my way to open an app, wait for it to load and then perform the maintenance of deleting useless files. Or worse – having to select each file individually that I want to upload, instead of tickbox selections, or select all. Which brings me nicely onto…

Functionality

That the actual functionality of the app doesn’t reflect the use. What do I mean? Well, it’s all very well uploading every single photo that I take; but that doesn’t reflect how people use the camera these days. With massive gigabites of storage, people take 3, 4, a dozen photos of the same thing at the same time and then select the best photo to use. Particularly considering the storage restrictions on Dropbox, I don’t want it filled with scores of photos of the same four scenes, just filtered, framed or focused differently by me. Indeed, the ‘added value’ that a lot of manufacturers are adding to their apps is the ability to take bursts of photos; dozens at once and combining them, adjusting the effects or offering them up for selection. So other apps clearly know how we use the camera. Perhaps Dropbox could add further function to their app which – on shut-down of the camera app – gives you a choice of which photos you want to upload to Dropbox.

Connectivity

 

And finally, certainly in this country, mobile data is a problem. Whilst we eagerly (?) await the roll-out of 4G networks, you will still be hard-pressed to find many places with a wide ranging and stable 3G connection. Travelling is a massive problem in this regard. Whilst the mobile network providers concentrate their signal on built-up areas, this often leaves large areas of intercity transport infrastructure uncovered. Even if not, there can often be a problem whereby the upload or download request fails as you switch from one cell to another. Whether this is a problem with the mobile registering the connect/disconnect, or the app for not retrying on a drop of a piece of data, I don’t know.

Even if you do find a stable connection, the network operators often still have very restrictive data allowances which means that you don’t want to be uploading 3 or 4 MB pictures without reviewing each of them. Currently I get 500MB of data per month on my plan with O2… and I use it all. Usually by around the 20^th day of the month. I then have to buy extra allowance. Indeed, Ofcom suggests that the average monthly data usage is 424MB meaning that the 500MB is exceeded by almost half of users. Hardly ‘fair usage’. But this is – very slowly – changing as newer providers like Giff Gaff start offering unlimited data (Three, after some criticism of its marketing, offered genuine ‘all youcan eat’ data, but again has since railed back on that so that - for new customers - it is only available on their more pricey plans.). But apps are already eating up data usage without telling you. My Twitter downloads tweets hourly with no input from me. Thank goodness I don’t use Facebook any more! But at least those downloads are insignificant compared to a photo transfer. 

In what must be the craziest move of all, my mobile operator - O2 - has, for new customers, DRASTICALLY slashed not price - like you might expect under competition - but data capacity. Instead of 500MB per month they offer you 100MB. Progress?

Capacity

 

And finally, is the upload/download speed. With an 8-10MP camera as standard on smartphones; and masses of internal and expandable capacity, everyone is creating 3-4MB pictures. The best HSDPA+ signals around have a maximum transfer rate of around 370Mbit/s with an actual transfer of around 300Mbit/s. It does frustrate me how we measure the size of a file in megabytes, but the transfer rate in megabits, but essentially you are getting around 35 megabytes per second; so transfer rate on the very best, stable 3G signal should be less than a second – but that is not many of the connections around at all. Only the very very best. If you are using EDGE (best of 60kbit/s) then your 4MB picture will take around 8 minutes to upload if uncompressed. Now, most mobile signals are somewhere in between, and most pieces of software use some sort of compression; but still – if you’re trying to upload an album, that’s a lot of heel kicking.

So I’ve had to turn off a feature that - potentially - could well have been a very useful feature and instead wait till I get home, go through the album and perform a tidy up: upload those that I want to Flickr, and transfer all of the rest to my storage. A few simple changes would make the app ideal – upload over wi-fi; pending upload (so that you can select all photos and it will hold them to upload once a stable wi-fi connection is established); the easiest multiple upload selection tools; unlimited storage; the moon on a stick. This should be where a little ‘real world’ alpha and beta testing allows effective feedback and development.

Face-Off

So, I left you on tenterhooks, didn’t I? What did I do about my Facebook dilemma?

I left.

Well, I deactivated my account. It’s a further withdrawal to a place where I am much happier… but I think I may go further.

How so?

Well,deactivation is not deletion. Deactivating my account removes it from the searches and viewing: if you were to search for me, whereas once I would have appeared, now I do not. From your perspective I do not exist.

But from my perspective, the account is there, just dormant. I can resuscitate it back to the state it was when I last left it. I do not need to reload my photos, my full status history is still there, I don’t need to reconnect with friends.

And I suspect that I don’t count as one of those 2m UK users who ‘left’ Facebook in the last six months. I suspect they treat me as having fallen asleep rather than turn my back.

But it is part of the gradual withdrawal meaning I haven’t burned my bridges if I find my life impossible to lead without it.

So, how has it been?

Well, I had one month where I didn’t post, I merely viewed the stuff on my Newsfeed - which proved rather why I didn’t need it - and I’ve now had one month without it entirely. Am I getting withdrawal symptoms?

No.

I have more time to do all the other stuff. Like this, other general internettery and gardening and stuff.

Do I not have any concerns?

Yes. I worry that I’m not getting invited to things. I’m not fussed about seeing the photos of other people’s food or babies, but I am worried that certain events are being organised without me knowing.

Now, this wouldn’t be a massive concern assuming that I never find out about the event – if I don’t know about it, I can’t miss it. But there are those that I do find out about. For example, next weekend the football club has organised a camping trip. I haven’t found out about this. Now, there is an organisation fault on the club here: official club events should not be organised through Facebook, it should be done through the official club email list. But in a lazy way the social secretary has created a Facebook event which I would not have known about had there not been a discussion about it in the pub last week.

So that’s one concern.

My other concern is that people might forget about me. Not in a big way, but I have a few of my friends who live overseas who I don’t see frequently. Facebook was a useful way to stay in contact. Some of those are on Twitter, but many are not. If nothing else, Facebook gave me a prompt once a year to wish them a happy birthday. How many I actually chose to wish it is another matter; but on other occasions I could join in the conversation should I need.

I do miss out on some other stuff though. This weekend I went down to London and as well as my regular friends I bumped into some others. Some were slightly offended that I might have deleted them. Admittedly I could have handled the withdrawal better by letting people know well in advance that I was deactivating my account, but once I explained that it was me and not them, they were ok with it. And there was conversation to be had – a lot of “well, you won’t know because you’ve not been on Facebook, but …” – things such as photos of a new car and a baby. So whilst Facebook cultivates its own conversation, it doesn’t kill it otherwise, it still occurs, just originates in a different fashion.

And the pictures. We went out on Saturday night and all took photos. I uploaded mine onto my Flickr account but that meant people having to go out of their way to view the photos, and meant that I don’t get to see the ones other people took unless they want to email them to me.

And then there are the more distant friends. I saw a few of them on Saturday – people who I see once a year or less, and otherwise would keep up with on Facebook. We did the ‘update’ chat; but again, rather than it starting out with “Oh, and I saw on Facebook that you ran a marathon – how was that?” there was less prompting and the conversation slightly more stunted.

And finally, the at-a-loose-end fall-back. I was abandoned for a while on Saturday and Sunday – my friend needing a little rest. Previously I could have searched on Facebook and seen what people were up to, where they were and met them; or alternatively put out a general “on my own in Soho if anyone is available for a drink”. Instead I had to rely on texting a few people to see where they were.

But then the risks outweighed the positives and I think I’m happier with a deactivated account, even if it means I miss out on a few events. I have enough people text or email me various event invites that the effect will probably be minimal. I’m still undecided; and it may be that I do rejoin, but change my relationship – interact in a much more limited fashion after a full scrub of the information on my account. I’m not sure. It’s a lot of effort to go through. I’ll sit on a deactivated account for a little while longer and see if I miss out on much more.

One noticeable effect has been the discussion that it has sparked. People have asked me why I left, and when I respond about my privacy and security concerns, a lot of people echo it. Many have said that they have reduced the amount they interact with Facebook – indeed, my anecdotal evidence before I left was that they people whose statuses I actually cared about were posting considerably less. Some have said they are debating coming off.

Perhaps the shark really has been jumped.

The exes who don't stay ex

Well, this weekend was quite the weekend for it. But then every weekend is like that when you have a reasonably small scene to go out on.

It is, perhaps, because I have exhausted the options. But then I have long said I need to move away, move on, move somewhere where nobody knows my name. I’m the anti-Cheers.

There are certain occasions when the fortunes of fate swirl in a mischievous manner to collate all of history in one moment. If you’ve been out on a gay scene for any length of time this will have happened to you: you will at one moment glance around and be surrounded by people with whom there has been some sort of relationship. This weekend wasn’t quite that bad, but it did happen to me a month or so ago, and had such an effect upon me that I immediately left to go home and think about what I had done. Or who I had done.

Now, I have to say that – for me – this isn’t a particularly devastating occurrence. There are few of my ex’s that I really regret going out with; and those that I do I have managed - either by avoidance, deterrence or removal – to avoid. Either I have moved scene, they have, or there is an unspoken understanding between us that we shall not meet.

But for the others, I am usually on good enough terms to say hello and co-exist in the same room for a period of time without going crazy. It’s just that sometime the coincidence is just too much.

It doesn’t help on the occasions where they don’t want to be an ex any more. There have been a few occasions recently where I have woken up with someone I shouldn’t. “You can’t go home again”. It’s the title to a Thomas Wolfe novel about how you can’t relive the past; you can’t go home and expect the experience to be the same. It has the same kind of devastation of Brideshead Revisted (which, until I read it, I had always assumed was the sequel to Brideshead; but it isn’t).

But yes, if it didn’t work out the first time, there is probably a reason for it. And there are probably more reasons that it won’t work out the second time. Well, unless immaturity was the first reason. But the reason for the first break-up will reside, together with all the mud and muck thrown up in the disintegration, and the resentment or jealousy which festers in the meantime. After all, you can’t expect them to have been angelic and pure and not have some rebound sex with someone else, can you?

But this weekend was an oddity.

We’ll call him the impossible elastic band. Because that’s kind of how he is. We know that we are impossible as a couple, and yet we keep returning to each other, unable to break that draw.

So, we’ve known each other for almost 10 years now and tried to date each other three or four times during that time. It hasn’t worked out on any occasion. We seem unable to make a firm commitment.

Back when I was 22 and he was 30 there were maturity issues – I was still very much in the party mood, and whilst he enjoys going out on occasions, he wanted an off-scene relationship. This was fine during the week, however I had just come out of a relationship where someone exerted emotional influence over me that meant that I didn’t see my friends for weeks at a time. I wasn’t going to have that happen again quite so soon.

The next time the issue was a distance problem. I had just recently decided to go without a car. My car had been broken into and damaged to such an extent that the insurers said it was not economic to repair, and so I thought I’d give it a go to cope without it. Which was all well and good until it comes to trying to get from the next city either back to my place late at night; or to work first thing in the morning. It just wasn’t compatible.

And we weren’t sexually compatible either. It may be that in due course that becomes a non-issue; or that there is some sort of compromise; but, for now, it’s there.

And so is there a reason that we snogged on Saturday night?

The eyes have it.

There is something about them. And this is a real weakness for me. That and a hairy chest – which is there as well. I can fall for people based purely on one of those two factors sometimes.

And it was insipid on this occasion too. I had some time to kill until my friends turned up; we saw each other; and what started out as purely polite conversation turned to tongue-wagging-without-talking.

But that was all. This time.

So, when will it stop? Which of absolve, avoid, deter will I use? Well, until I get that job in London, Manchester, Leeds, Newcastle, Anywhere-else-but-here, removing myself of the situation isn’t going to happen. Removing myself from romantic opportunity – by attaching myself to some other poor sod – will happen when pigs fly.

Accidentally (as in unorganised) avoiding – as I have found out – lasts only so long before coincidence throws us together at the same time.

Deterrence? Well, he is moving to Portugal to open a shop selling second-hand artwork. But he’s been saying that for 10 years. And he wants me to go out and see him. Bearing in mind we have difficulty meeting up when we live in adjacent cities, that may not be a realistic prospect.

So, who knows. Perhaps the only exit may be attrition – after a decade of never-quite-nearly, one or other of us may get bored; go off the other.

And there is a possibility that this is already happening. This weekend, for example, it isn’t as though we pounced on each other. It was only with his imminent departure at the end of the night that he asked if we could have a snog. I didn’t realise people still used the word snog but apparently he does. Until then it has been a polite-to-friendly catch-up chat. His hair was longer – I’m not a fan of it when it is longer. It tends to go curly and look greasy. I think he thinks it makes him look or feel younger; but again – it doesn’t. For the first time in a long while he actually looked his age – 39. I don’t wish to sound bitchy – I know I already do – but perhaps that attrition has already started to buff off the shines of youth. Perhaps not – perhaps it is just me in my ever insatiable need to remain in contact with my (or someone else’s) twenties; to always have newer, better, cuter. Or because you can never go back – you’ve been there, they are spoiled goods, you know the faults already, there’s less unknown – less excitement. Maybe for this reason I will stay single for ever, holding out for impossible perfection until I’m so old that it could never find me.

So, spell broken?

Until next time.

Me an my (non)god

Ok, so when I was debating equal marriage a while back, I said that I would deal with my views on religion. This could be a long post, and I have no intentions of keeping everyone happy. Abraham Lincoln, when he said that you can’t please all of the people all of the time, was very correct; and religion is one of those that stirs it up.

So, where am I with religion?

Even this isn’t a simple statement. I don’t know whether I am agnostic or atheist or other. I suppose on the most basic of definitions I am an atheist.

Do I believe in a god? Do I believe there is a single, overarching, omnipotent being that controls or judges us? No. And so to that extent I am atheist.

Do I believe the bible to be the word of god, to have been written at the time about the life of his son? Do I believe the world was made in seven days? No. And there is so much actual, hard, factual evidence to counter so many of the tenets upon which the bible relies

But I do believe in religion, in certain circumstances.

Not a religion. But religion in general. And I am reasonably educated in this. I went to Church of England schools; regularly attended church until I was confirmed and had a good knowledge of the bible. I also had a good religious education teacher, who ensured that we were informed about other faiths beyond Christianity. So I understand how religions work. And that is where I say I believe in these religions in certain circumstances.

Corinthians 13:13 – “And now abideth faith, hope charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity”.

These days charity is more often read as love. So faith, hope and love – the true holy trinity.

John 3:16 – “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son”. See, that word there again. Love.

Regardless of which religion you follow, which holy book you read, these basic, fundamental principles are the repeated, defining principles upon which all proper, true religions rely. Faith, hope and love.

Such overwhelming positivity. And that’s what religion is about – the positive effect that it should have on the life of its followers. Some people I know are so unbelievably happy living their life following those principles. It’s infectious. And that is a good thing. In their darkest of times religion gives them hope. It already gives them faith which is far more than I have. I find so much empirical evidence to disprove the notion of a god that they trump me in the faith department a million times over. Perhaps my faith is in my friends, family, community and wider humanity. Perhaps that’s far too humanistic.

People who try to twist religion and holy scripture to their own, negative point of view are not just bastardising the work itself, they are fundamentally undermining or abusing their own faith, hope and charity. This reared its head in the equal marriage debate; with people throwing Leviticus around left, right and centre. Essentially the justification for equal marriage is based upon faith, hope and love. Afterall, John doesn’t say “God so loved the World [except for the gays] that he gave his only begotten Son”.

So, we’ll look at the bible, because the theory from the bible can be extrapolated to most religions.

Is the bible the story of one man? Well, sort of. You have the ‘prequel’ if you like – the Old Testament – which talks you through his heritage; then the main section – the story of his life; and finally the prologue – what his followers did next.

But (in my opinion) it is just that – a story. A very well-meaning story, with many positive teachings and morals to take away from it. Just as Jesus tells stories and parables to example the point he is trying to make, so the bible does the same many times over. It created the story-within-a-story format. Afterall, as I have already said, so much of it has been fundamentally and factually disproved.

Now, we know that it wasn’t written “at the time”. I has been created and added to all the way from the Council of Jamnia in 90AD to the Synod of Hippo in 393AD, to the Council of Trent in 1545-63 to the King James’ version which a couple of years ago celebrated 600 years since completion in 1611. Even today there is no single version, and so relying on a nuanced interpretation of a single word is problematic at best. Indeed, look at the transition from ‘charity’ to ‘love’.

It is the fundamental principles that should be relied up – the morals of the parables, the lessons from the sermons, the three basic tenets of faith, hope and love. If you follow these, rather than an absolutely literal interpretation then you should have a happy, positive interaction with, faith in, and reliance upon your religion.

And the context needs to be considered as well. When you consider that the writing of the books took place initially almost 2000 years ago in a very different society, both technically and geographically, to where we are, then it is no surprise that some of the phrases jar a bit as out of date. The most common translation used today (certainly in the UK) – the King James’ Version – was, as I said, translated 600 years ago. Again, in very different times.

So whilst the anti-equal campaigners were ignoring the overarching aims of faith, hope and charity; and concentrating on just one of the 95 or so books, gospels, letters or Epistles they ignore that it was clearly written by someone who was trying to address specific problems presented at the time (context) and the language used. The word ‘man’ was frequently deployed simply to refer to mankind as a whole, so don’t think it specifically refers to other males.

So, if you are drawing positivity, then your faith is good and true for you and good with me. The moment you take phrases out of context, abusing them to support a bigoted point of view, or in any other way negativing (it’s a word) a phrase, ideology, individual or community; then you are fundamentally denying your own religion, your own faith, hope and charity.

I tried to explain my position – that of not believing in a god, nor having faith myself, but understanding and respecting those who do – to a friend of mine. For someone who normally displays substantial intelligence, he was remarkably stupid and ignorant to the point of rude. I was wrong – religion was wrong; it was a terrible thing; fundamentally flawed and the root of all evil. There was no explanation as to why, it just was.

One of the circumstances where this is particularly abused is by some radical, fundamentalist Muslims. They use the term Jihad as a reason to take arms. On an absolute literal reading they may well be correct; but on a proper interpretation the Jihad is a war of conversion – it is a conversation, a discussion, not a physical attack.

I hate the phrase fundamentalist Muslim or extremist Muslims. It’s being bandied round far too much at the moment with the terriblyshocking murder of Drummer Lee Rigby in Woolwich. The suspects have been referred to as radical Muslims or Muslim extremists in some of the media. Proper, true Muslim groups have been working damned hard to distance themselves from this; to condemn in the strongest terms what happened; to rebuild relationships within the community. The fact of the matter is that whatever the suspects may think, they were not doing this in the name of Islam; they were doing it for their own, shockingly misguided reason. It bears nothing to do with Islam and so the use of ‘Muslim’ in any tag attached to those suspects must be dropped. Extremists is fine, it needs no ‘enhancement’ and Muslims do not deserve to be so ignorantly demonised.

Well, I appear to have been remarkably concise on that, which surprised even me.

The Lesser Gatsby

So, you may remember a couple of months ago I considered why it was that Baz Lurhmann would wish to make a remake of The Great Gatsby? And I said that I would reserve my judgement? Well, I have now managed to get to see the film... just under three weeks after release. 

That's not bad for me.

So, what did I think?

Well... it was a disappointment. It was a FODJEM disappointment. But then I shouldn't have been surprised.

A FODGEM disappointment? 

Forced
Ostentatious
Device-led
Juxtapositionally-jarring
Extreme; and
Melodramatic.

Forced?
Well, this is a theme you will see running through the next few headings; but it was so forced that you felt no empathy, no sympathy with the characters. It didn't help that a lot of the other things were so distracting from the characters; but even the 'old sport' catchphrase which is supposed to be key. It's in the book, but it jars in the film - it just seems so forced, so out of character that it doesn't work in the end. Also, the fact that Nick keeps appearing in every scene is uncomfortable. I know the book is written from Nick's perspective; however for him to be there at every single companion moment is not necessary. He interrupts so many private moments that the only surprise is that Baz doesn't place him at the foot of the bed in the sex scene.

Ostentatious?
Well, I know - it's Baz Lurhmann. He's not a cheap man. But whereas the original film celebrates the washed-out, understated decadence and opulence of the jazz era in the same way as the book does; the new film does brash, bold, colourful. Almost distastefully. I know it's trying to distinguish itself, make sure that it isn't just a remake of the original (justifying itself against my post, identifying a uniqueness) however it doesn't fit. Half of the film is 1920s, half of it isn't. In fact; that isn't true... as will become clear later on.

Devices?
The film uses every cinematic device that Baz uses in Moulin Rouge! It doesn't distinguish itself in the slightest. There is so much duplication it is distracting. There is the zoom-out-to-cityscape; the model buildings; the wide sweeps; the pull-in-zoom-out. The brash colours referred to reference particular characters, particular situations in a way that Jean-Pierre Jeunet manages to achieve very well throughout his films; particularly Amelie; but which Lurhmann confuses, over-multiplies and ends up losing the reasoning behind it. It just becomes brash and forced colour; classically forced 3-D filming; and generally feeling fake, model or CGI.

As well as a cinematograpical, devices are other, story-lead devices which are introduced outwith the original story. There is a good back-story in the book, but Lurhmann advances on a full character assassination of Gatsby; whilst still expecting us to sympathize with him at the end. It's impossible. Yes, the desperation to get Daisy eventually pulls through, but the underside is overplayed to the extent that you actually don't want Daisy to care. Then there are minor themes which are overplayed to the distraction of the main story...

Juxtapositionally-jarring?
Well, I've already talked about how the colours were brash to the point of distraction and confusion. The costumery and set were in absolute disarray. Some of it seemed to be set in the 1920s-30s as should be. Some of it was set in a faux-medieval castle. Maybe that's what people spent their money on in 1920s Long Island. But it looked CGI-etched in. Then the music was a horrible slam-up between the 1920s; 1950s; 1970s; 1990s and early 2000s. Simply taking some New York artists does not make the track appropriate. It all just jarred. I know Baz is known for his juxtapositions - modern with Shakespeare in Romeo + Juliet; modern with 19th Century in Moulin Rouge! But this had so many styles, themes, sets that there was absolutely no consistency throughout the film, it was distracting to the extent of disorientating. And this is all at the same time as trying to get us to emote? 

The original was set properly in the jazz era. It may surprise to know that jazz has rules, but that they are fluid, soft rules. Assuming that you know, acknowledge and appropriate use those rules you can create good jazz. Unfortunately what the film tries to do is the opposite - look at the rules, force the breaking of those rules, and then try to make it sound good. One is free-working within rules; the other is strict-working outside of rules. Jazz works. 

Extremes?
Well, a lot of this has already been mentioned or is still to come; but again diversity is key. All of the peripheral characters are extremes. This is not set in a circus as Moulin Rouge! is, this is set in the very restrained, pre-civil rights era. Indeed, the script repeatedly makes reference to the them-and-us attitude between the dominant whites over the coloureds. And yet, in the middle of all of that Gatsby has a transgender black man performing in the middle of his parties? It just doesn't sit. But it is there throughout. 

Melodrama?
It's the only language Baz seems to speak. Buchanan is clearly the The Duke from Moulin Rouge! It's the 'extreme' category extrapolated further. Daisy isn't just wet, she is SO wet she can't decide anything. Buchanan isn't just nasty, he's almost demonic; Gatsby isn't just caddish, he's so unbelievably caddish so as to override his gallantry at the end (as apparently his friends realise); Carraway isn't just bland, he's so bland so as to be there when you don't even realise he is or need him to be there. Which is a shame as I think Tobey Maguire actually gives one of the better, more realistically believable performances throughout the film. Even the butler seems sinister. 

So it didn't work with me? Not at all.

When looking at a reason to make a remake, essentially it comes down to two reasons:
Duplication; and
Divergence

This being reasons where you can improve upon the original, either by doing the same thing better, or achieving the same end by doing it different.

Unfortunately, the divergences seem to have been at the expense of what everyone loves the original story and films for. The soft-focus; hazy summer is beautifully, opulently, subtly represented in the book and the original film; the new film (again, seeking justification for it's being) head-on challenges this with noisy (Baz doesn't do quiet), brash, garish, bright, overwhelmingness that leaves a feeling of milk curdling in the stomach.

The duplicatations?

Well, aside from the occasional glimpses with the original story (ok, now I'm being very harsh) the duplications are all those with Moulin Rouge!

Cinematographical techniques are entirely lifted. There are basically no new shots.
The green light (which, admittedly, is Fitzgerald's invention) could be the green fairy; but is most likely all of Freedom, Beauty Truth and Love.
The writing/typewriter. For goodness sake. This is all from Moulin Rouge! He starts both films out with the character basically revealing the ending all the way at the start; using the typewriter throughout to tell the story. It's a forced device that seemed novel at first, and now just seems a way to integrate the novel's monologue without being too inventive.
The glasses of Eckleburg could very easily be translated against the windmill of the Moulin Rouge, the way the camera plays upon them.
The organists in each of the movies appears to be the same. It isn't, but they are styled and directed so similarly. 
Even the parties are practically identical - the same mash-ups, the same colours, the same angles, shots, pans and zooms; the noise, the colour; the busyness; the everything.
And so many little snippets of dialogue are copied. "She doesn't love you, she loves me" - though this echoes back to the melodramatic aspects. There's only so many ways you can say the same things.

So I was disappointed. But I expected to be disappointed. Was I any more disappointed? Yes. I was disappointed at how much a carbon-copy of Moulin Rouge! it turned out to be. You could predict every camera movement; and once you started with that game it was as distracting as the noise and the harsh colours, poor reworks and flimsy recharacterisation so as to leave you entirely bereft of the film. 

But then I might be biased: myself and my friend were sat between someone who had such flatulence every ten minutes of the movie on the one side; and a couple who were determined to have oral sex on the other.

And as to Shane?

You remember Shane?

Well...

I messaged him. I told him - after a suitably non-stalkerish period of time - that he ticked my boxes and that I'd like to see him again. I understood his concern about the distance between my hometown and his; but emphasized that I'd managed to maintain a relationship with someone else who lived in a similar locale and therefore that shouldn't be the reason behind any refusal.

The response?

Well - that the locality was only one reason for the refusal for a second date.

The main reason?

My big penis.

Seriously. His text back to me said
"Yes, the distance is a problem. But the bigger problem is your penis".

So despite my hope that he was the one, he probably isn't. I was probably just another one-night-stand.

I suppose, philosophically, I ought to learn from this and treat my own needy one-night-stands with the same respect. I don't believe I don't.

Anyhow, I have to assume that I will perhaps never see Shane again.

Auto-fail fails

They make you laugh, don't they - "Autocorrect Fails"

You know, where someone has typed "cook" and it looks like they're trying to cock their sausage.

That is understandable. However, as with satirical twitter feeds pretending to be the Queen or Transport for London; they take advantage of some of the everyday life around them and "meld"  them to their own requirements.

But what the sites do, which the spoof sites don't, is hold themselves out as "true" autocorrect fails.

Thee lovely Buzzfeed posted the "30 most hilarious aautocorrect struggles ever". This follows on from various other autocorrect fail posts from Buzzfeed and others; and an entire site: damnyouautocorrects.com having been set up to 'catalogue' these.

But, of course, a hell of a lot of these are fake. Most in fact. like this:



 
Who is asking a cat's favouite colour anyway [ignore the spelling changes, I'm English]



Having made the Dong/Dog mistake, would you not check it more than once? And then "fridge auto cucumber"? I can see  "frigin'" not being in the dictionary,  but "auto cucumber"? Maybe it's just me not owning an iPhone. (what does the i stand for again?)





Sorry, "epi pen' translates to 'epic penis' ? Really?

This last is probably one of the worst, most blatant examples:






 "Wawa skittletits" ? Seriously? It had the 'we' bit sorted and was getting there with 'hop' 'hopping'  and 'home' you want me to believe that "Wawa skittlletits" came out of autocorrect? Really?

It's a shame really, because a legitimate "autocorrects that should have been" site would have worked as well - or better. I say better because it would have been obvious that the comedic though had gone in afterwards; whereas with holding itself out as genuine one denies it that comedic value on the basis that they've already been lied to as to how genuine it is.

Who's stealing who?

So, at the weekend my mother turned to me, rather concerned, and asked:

"Have you blocked me from Facebook?"
Me: "No, of course not"
Mother: "Only, I can't see what you've been up to"
Me: "That's because I've not been putting it on Facebook."
Brother: "We thought you'd gone quiet. Your sister-in-law thought your phone had been stolen or something"

At which point I relayed my previous observations.

And then everyone joined in.

Mother: "Well, this is why I don't post anything. I comment that I like a photo of someone's  and blood Scoobydoo will comment back on it and I have no idea who that Scoobydoo is!"
Sister-in-law: "The share button freaks me out. Before I know it, my baby is half way round the world. I'm starting to just email my pictures to the family now"
Brother: "It's always been possible to copy and repaste... it's just that before it took a knowledgable intentioni that you were stealing. These days everyone presumes that it's perfectly ok."

And that last point sums up the most recent problem.

I happened to be in London yesterday (22 May 2013). Fortunately I was nowhere neer Woolwich. However my Twitter feed caught fire. There was a really quite horrific and apparently religiously-extremistly-provoked murder. which sent everyone into a frenzy.

I don't know if I have moderated my Twitter friends more carefully than my Facebook friends; but with both the murder, and previously the death of Margaret Thatcher, the responses have been so much more civil and ethical than the crazy loons who have ranted on my Facebook feed.

Anyhow, to show just how easy it is for people to steal things in the internet day and age, lets have a look at a status related to the horrific murder...

One of my friends shared a status:

Wow. Over 27,000 shares in 8 hours. However one of my other friends shared another status:

Added 12 hours previously and - apparently as claimed by himself - written by Ian Yates. The problem is his original post hasas been shared by just over 12,000 people. Way less than half that the 'lifted' post has been shared.

This is quite an issue as the rather delightful Neal Mann has identified:

Fair use or stealing?Buzzfeed lifts almost 400 words of quotes from @telegraph's interview with heroic Woolwich woman bit.ly/16aeT8K
— Neal Mann (@fieldproducer) May 23, 2013

Now, this is a guy who does his research (as every proper journalist should, despite being 'new media' and therefore seen by the 'old media' as a shammish flybynight, which they are trying to piss on like a catepiller tries to piss on a butterfly):

Worth noting Buzzfeed has added absolutely none of their own reporting to that article & including headline added 129 words of description

— Neal Mann (@fieldproducer) May 23, 2013

And he properly follows it up:

Good to see @buzzfeedben get involved & cut down the amount of quotes Buzzfeed used from the @telegraph Woolwich hero article.
— Neal Mann (@fieldproducer) May 23, 2013

It again goes to show
1) what a risk social media can be about control of your IP
2) how laws have failed to keep up with these new developments
3) how devastatingly quickly these things go viral - as the bike tweet lady
4) how effective - and yet ineffective - the individual can be.

Final Facebookery?

So, I’m standing on a precipice. Or a pinnacle, I’m not sure.

A Facebook precipice to be precise.

Yes, I have been very vocal in my opposition to Facebook, and curiously no-one has asked the question – why do you still use it?

My previous rants have been terribly minor rants – mostly about excess advertising, poor communication and spam.

This one, however, is much more serious. So serious, in fact, that I have been in communication with the Office of the Data ProtectionCommissioner in Ireland – where Facebook Europe is based.

Have you noticed the ‘share’ button? I noticed it a month or so ago – I mentioned it on here. What I didn’t realise is actually how scary a tiny little button that is. And here’s why…

I have around 15,000 photos on Facebook. All of these photos have been given the privacy setting “Friends only”. Fine, I thought. Then the ‘share’ button came out. I only found out about the ‘share’ button when my brother shared a photo of mine. No problem, I thought, my privacy settings are such that only mutual friends will be able to see it.

Not so.

Despite me specifying in the privacy settings that the photo could only be seen by friends of mine; Facebook has wantonly overridden this to allow anyone to see this – I found this out not because Facebook has communicated a change in policy to me; but when an unknown friend of my brother’s started commenting on my photo.

Now, this is massively concerning. This is in direct contravention of the licence I gave to Facebook when I uploaded my images – that they would only be visible to my friends. This is even more concerning because I cannot turn off the ‘share’ function. Essentially, it is possible that every single one of my over 15,000 photographs and countless status updates could be shared with the world at large by friends who have much lower privacy settings sharing my content.

The communication I have had with the ODPC has been reasonably fruitless. They haven’t actually treated the complaint with any degree of gravitas, merely flippantly dismissing it. The ODPC response? “You give consent to such processing as Facebook deems necessary by using the site and uploading the photographs.” The ODPC also claims that “Facebook provides clear information about how information is made available”.

Sorry?

No it doesn’t.

Firstly, any such ‘consent’ is lost in a highly confusing and contradictory privacy policy. It must be contradictory if privacy settings for ‘only friends’ include ‘friends of friends or whatever your friends’ privacy settings are’. Secondly Facebook is very poor about communicating the roll-out of new privacy policies. Finally, this has been applied retrospectively, so despite the new policy coming into force in December 2012, it applies all the way back to my first post in July 2007. Are they really asking that every time they change their policy (without telling me) that I trawl back through my history and change the settings of anything I am unhappy with?

That makes Facebook unusable.

According to ODPC, the only way to withdraw consent to such processing, is to withdraw from Facebook as a whole.

And as such I have taken a hiatus away from Facebook for a while. And it appears I’m not the only one – Facebook has lost 2m of its UKusers in the last 6 months. That’s over 6% of its 32m UK users.

So, why should I still use Facebook?

Well, it lets me share photos with my friends. After a weekend away I can upload a full album of my artistic genius (or drunken antics) and draw attention to specific friends by tagging them in it. Videos are starting to take off in the way too. Obviously the risk now is that I am sharing the photos with more than friends; but the alternatives here are poor – Instagram and Tumblr are more about individual photos than albums, Flickr is slightly better, but then it’s about encouraging people to go to your Flickr site which people check far less frequently – often when only uploading their own photos.

Secondly it seems to be the default for organising events. Whereas once events were organised by mobile or email, these days they are most frequently organised by Facebook. This is because all the contacts are in one place – there is no scurrying friends for email addresses of other people. Friends can add other people too, in case you can’t get or don’t know their contact details. And then the conversation can start – what the fancy dress theme will be, what the route of the pub-crawl should be. It saves emails pinging about; or people getting left off the list when someone accidentally hits ‘reply’ rather than ‘reply all’.

And that emphasises the third bonus – I can easily see what friends are up to by checking their timeline. I don’t need to email them seeing how they are; I can do so surreptitiously without them even knowing. It’s great for stalking keeping in contact with people like that. If I don’t know someone’s mobile number, I can message them on Facebook and, assuming they are a regular user, they will see it. Aside from regularly texting or emailing people to find out how they are (including old school friends who I really don’t care about) there is no other way of finding out how they are and what they are up to. Well, except Twitter, although my local friends are very very slow on the take-up of Twitter.

And that, primarily, is the problem identified with Flickr – getting people to be regular users of other technologies. It will happen. There are still a lot of my friends who have ‘dormant’ Facebook accounts – they post very little and, so far as I am aware, log on very little, so it clearly hasn’t ingrained it so indelibly in the national psyche as to be essential. And challengers are starting to take off – various messaging services allow you to send messages free in the way Facebook chat or messenger can; and to groups. My family use Google calendars to organise events and then email to communicate conversations relating to it; and yes, there are photo sharing sites. But it isn’t all in one place.

All of this leaves me with three choices:

Firstly, carry on using Facebook as I always did and just take the risk that people will share things – perhaps exercising a degree of caution over what I post and hoping that no-one will go through each of those 15,000 to find the one of my peeing against a fence at a festival.

Secondly, scour my profile. Remove everything or anything that could be a risk, and use the site as though it is a fully public site in future. This will be very energy intensive (and subjective as to my mood on each occasion) procedure.

Finally, either remove or deactivate my account, thus removing all security and privacy issues, though at the cost of the functionality.

I haven’t been posting content on Facebook since the beginning of May, although I have accepted around 5 friend requests because I was stood next to the people as they added me on their mobiles, so it would have seemed rude not to. I’m currently in what I would term an ‘unhappy medium’ – I bear all of the risks of the privacy settings with none of the functionality. I need to make a decision on where I am comfortable. Unfortunately I fear it may be the second, most time-consuming option of stripping back to basics, with minimal interaction save as is necessary. In light of my various other concerns, perhaps it is time to search out that alternative. Afterall, when one of the most recent Facebook conferences occurred, there were a lot of people asking Who uses Facebook these days anyways?