I've gone to the dark side. It wasn't an easy decision, except that it was because my hand was forced. I've bought a Kindle.
Now, I've heard many complaints about e-readers generally. They're not like real books! They can't replace the feeling of the printed word, or a well-worn copy of a beloved tome. This is perfectly true; it's not the same. Much like CDs weren't the same as vinyl and MP3s weren't the same as CDs. It will be ever thus as long as technology keeps advancing.
I've been exactly one of those people, too: when MP3 players started getting popular I grumbled like a crabbit badger. It's not the SAME as CDs with ARTWORK and THERE'S JUST NO SOUL and it's RUBBISH. Then I woke up one morning and realised my living space was intolerable: I could not move for CDs. The buying had to stop. I've never regretted going over to iPod land and can't imagine why I ever complained about getting one.
The soul isn't of the medium isn't in where you store it or how you access it, you see. The soul of the book is in the words, not the paper it's printed on. The real reason behind my decision to buy one, though, was a repeat of the CD problem. I had more books than I could store, to the point where I'd stopped buying them. I had to get rid of more than sixty last month (though you never bin a book. You give them to charity shops. Binning a book is only for the truly awful ones) and it broke my heart. Even with the cleared space though, I wasn't buying more: I'd only fill it up and have to go through the same again. It was time to change methods.
That said, you still want to read on something of quality, which is why I went for a Kindle having heard many raving about the screen, and rightly so. The screen is like paper. This is impossible to explain without sounding mental, but it is. When you open up the package for the first time you might think they've stuck a piece of paper on the screen - no, that's actually the screen. There's no glare, no flicker, no blurring. It's pretty much perfect. After a while to adjust you don't even notice much difference between it and reading off paper: it's that good.
It's simple to use - a directional button, a keyboard and the previous/next page buttons are all you need, so that's all they give you - the downloading is as instant as they say, it has two built-in dictionaries to look up words as you go, you can highlight passages, search within books, and it holds something like 3,500 of them. What's not to like?
I had a minor problem with mine in that it arrived registered to someone else - it's meant to arrive registered to the Amazon account you buy it with, but it seems a lady called Anne will have my Kindle since I had hers. Sorry, Anne. Easy dealt with though - a matter of de-registering her in the menu and entering my own Amazon account details. If you've set up any other device for wi-fi you can do it for a Kindle, and away you go. It's all easy.
A little too easy to buy books, mind you. All those titles, there for a click. There is a disadvantage in that e-books are subject to VAT whereas physical books aren't, but so far I haven't noticed any massive price discrepancies.
There are two types of Kindle, the wi-fi and the wi-fi + 3G. I went for the wi-fi only Kindle; firstly because it's forty quid cheaper and secondly I don't need the ability to download books anywhere thanks very much, which is the only difference between the models. Anyway, having to wait until you have a wi-fi connection means you'll have time to think about buying stuff before you hit the button. This is a wonderful thing.
So yes: I can only recommend the Kindle. It's easy to use, but most importantly it's easy to read on. Your bookshelves will thank you.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Serious business
If you're in the UK and have even the slightest interest in comedy, you'll have heard about Tramadol Nights, Frankie Boyle's Channel 4 show. It has so far involved disability jokes, race jokes, unfunny sketches, Frankie's actual stand-up at which he is good - and an awful lot of shouting in the tabloids which you could have set your watch by.
Last year, I bought a ticket to see Frankie Boyle. It was purchased well before the gig and before any particular controversy flared up. More and more details emerged about the show, though, that gave me pause. After careful consideration nearer the gig, I sold the ticket on eBay (it went for almost three times face value despite being a single ticket in a rubbish seat) as I decided that no, actually, an angry man making jokes about disability wasn't my idea of a good night out. It wasn't a crusade or a rant, I just didn't fancy it.
I remember when Frankie was the genial psycho on Mock The Week: he hogged the microphone and he talked over everyone else, but yes, he was funny. He also had (shock!) non-controversial observational stuff, and that was funny too. I've defended him many's a time, but now, to be honest, his stuff just bores me.
With Frankie, I'm no longer sure how much of what he says is to make a point via something controversial, or if he's saying it because he's trying deliberately to poke the newspapers. It doesn't help of course that this article has Tramadol Nights writer Tom Stade claiming that '[we] are just sitting there going “I wonder what the fuck we can write that will absolutely piss everyone off” and we seem to have achieved that.’ Ah, now that's comedy.
As far as many are concerned, comedy has a job to push the envelope. Humour is disarming, it has the ability to re-frame situations in different lights, and it's a very powerful weapon. Comedy is always going to offend someone, and without it we end up with Michael McIntyre and nothing else. There is a point, too, where you have to realise that actually comedians aren't saying this to upset you personally. The first time I saw Richard Herring live, at the Fringe, I was incredibly offended and upset by part of his routine, to the point where I didn't want to see him again. Three days later I did see him again (because this is how the Fringe works) and I felt far better about the same routine - because the humour that had offended me initially had instead changed my perception of the subject and made it into something entirely ridiculous. If I could laugh at that, I could laugh at anything. Humour as a weapon: against your own demons, against pomposity, against taking this life so seriously that you lose all your joy.
But after a while, this shock-for-the-sake-of-it stuff gets boring. There seems to be a prevailing notion these days that culture is worthless if it isn't controversial; that it has to challenge you, scare you, make you sick, and there's no room for being, well, entertained. That's rubbish. You're such a sheep if you like laughing at something that hasn't made you feel wrong for laughing at it.
People claim Frankie is the new Bill Hicks. Bollocks. You listen to Bill Hicks and you all too clearly observe the chasm between them (and also get a bit fearful because exactly the sum of fuck all appears to have changed since his heyday). Bill was angry at everything, and everyone, and he made damn sure that you knew it, but - he also believed that we could all do so much better. He believed we could improve if only we used our brains a bit more.
And he'd never have made jokes about a disabled child for publicity, either. If you're going to attack Jordan, the living embodiment of how awful celebrity culture can be, then attack her. She courts the public eye relentlessly, and that means taking the rough with the smooth. Her severely disabled son, however, deserves no such ire, because he's done nothing wrong. He can't defend himself. Be controversial, piss people off, if that's your role as a comedian: but choose your targets properly.
There's so much more to this issue: about privilege and who are a bunch of white people to get pissed off about racial epithets and the Daily Mail shouting about how he should be banned and - of course Frankie Boyle shouldn't be banned. That'd give him immense satisfaction for a start, and also there's a freedom of speech issue that you're all too aware of.
No, this rant is one of disappointment. Frankie Boyle is very intelligent, he has a way with one-liners, and he certainly doesn't need to turn into a bland observational no-mark. It's the fact he's after the collective annoyance of people who don't even watch his fucking show but read about it in the papers, rather than the laugh, that's wearying. He could do so much better. If only he'd use his brain a bit more.
Last year, I bought a ticket to see Frankie Boyle. It was purchased well before the gig and before any particular controversy flared up. More and more details emerged about the show, though, that gave me pause. After careful consideration nearer the gig, I sold the ticket on eBay (it went for almost three times face value despite being a single ticket in a rubbish seat) as I decided that no, actually, an angry man making jokes about disability wasn't my idea of a good night out. It wasn't a crusade or a rant, I just didn't fancy it.
I remember when Frankie was the genial psycho on Mock The Week: he hogged the microphone and he talked over everyone else, but yes, he was funny. He also had (shock!) non-controversial observational stuff, and that was funny too. I've defended him many's a time, but now, to be honest, his stuff just bores me.
With Frankie, I'm no longer sure how much of what he says is to make a point via something controversial, or if he's saying it because he's trying deliberately to poke the newspapers. It doesn't help of course that this article has Tramadol Nights writer Tom Stade claiming that '[we] are just sitting there going “I wonder what the fuck we can write that will absolutely piss everyone off” and we seem to have achieved that.’ Ah, now that's comedy.
As far as many are concerned, comedy has a job to push the envelope. Humour is disarming, it has the ability to re-frame situations in different lights, and it's a very powerful weapon. Comedy is always going to offend someone, and without it we end up with Michael McIntyre and nothing else. There is a point, too, where you have to realise that actually comedians aren't saying this to upset you personally. The first time I saw Richard Herring live, at the Fringe, I was incredibly offended and upset by part of his routine, to the point where I didn't want to see him again. Three days later I did see him again (because this is how the Fringe works) and I felt far better about the same routine - because the humour that had offended me initially had instead changed my perception of the subject and made it into something entirely ridiculous. If I could laugh at that, I could laugh at anything. Humour as a weapon: against your own demons, against pomposity, against taking this life so seriously that you lose all your joy.
But after a while, this shock-for-the-sake-of-it stuff gets boring. There seems to be a prevailing notion these days that culture is worthless if it isn't controversial; that it has to challenge you, scare you, make you sick, and there's no room for being, well, entertained. That's rubbish. You're such a sheep if you like laughing at something that hasn't made you feel wrong for laughing at it.
People claim Frankie is the new Bill Hicks. Bollocks. You listen to Bill Hicks and you all too clearly observe the chasm between them (and also get a bit fearful because exactly the sum of fuck all appears to have changed since his heyday). Bill was angry at everything, and everyone, and he made damn sure that you knew it, but - he also believed that we could all do so much better. He believed we could improve if only we used our brains a bit more.
And he'd never have made jokes about a disabled child for publicity, either. If you're going to attack Jordan, the living embodiment of how awful celebrity culture can be, then attack her. She courts the public eye relentlessly, and that means taking the rough with the smooth. Her severely disabled son, however, deserves no such ire, because he's done nothing wrong. He can't defend himself. Be controversial, piss people off, if that's your role as a comedian: but choose your targets properly.
There's so much more to this issue: about privilege and who are a bunch of white people to get pissed off about racial epithets and the Daily Mail shouting about how he should be banned and - of course Frankie Boyle shouldn't be banned. That'd give him immense satisfaction for a start, and also there's a freedom of speech issue that you're all too aware of.
No, this rant is one of disappointment. Frankie Boyle is very intelligent, he has a way with one-liners, and he certainly doesn't need to turn into a bland observational no-mark. It's the fact he's after the collective annoyance of people who don't even watch his fucking show but read about it in the papers, rather than the laugh, that's wearying. He could do so much better. If only he'd use his brain a bit more.
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