Wed, 30 Apr 2014
If one is to believe the internets then Flickr is doomed, going downhill and just not the place to share photos anymore. Given this I thought I’d go and try something else. In this case 500px which has a reputation as a serious photography site.
So, it looks quite nice, although the gap to Flickr isn’t what it was, and at first glance it is indeed full of serious photographs. Very serious and mostly very boring.
What’s lovely about Flickr is, and this may be less true than it once was, it has personality. There is quirk and frivolity to it and that quirk is relatively easy to find via groups. One of the reasons I look at photos is to see things that are novel and different, odd perspectives and unusual subjects, photographs that make me think about how I look at the world and what I point a camera at. Endless shots of lovely landscapes, long exposure rivers and beaches, macro flowers and insects and a dozen other cliches are not what I’m looking for. These are what 500px mostly surfaces and I just glaze over.
I did hack out a few ‘things against a starfield’ photos as a result of 500px which was a worthwhile exercise but even there so many largely indistinguishable photos of trees or mountains with the milky way across the sky. Technically impressive but constant exposure to them dulls the effect.
And how much HDR? I am clearly in some sort of minority here but HDR does nothing for me and 500px is rife with it. Terrible, awful, hyperrealism style images with all the colours dialled up to eleven.
500px is worthwhile in that it’s a window into what a chunk of people like and I see styles and types of photos I’d otherwise not choose to see but as a source of inspiration it’s a bit of a dud.
The reason I find Flickr more useful as a source of the unusual are groups which helpfully segment the firehose into self selecting areas of interest. There’s plenty of groups on Flickr that have the same sort of thing as 500px but the sheer number of them results in little niches, often with strong selection policies which ensures a consistency of vision to them. A consistency of quirk and the resulting inspiration.
posted at: 22:00 #
Fri, 04 Apr 2014
I’ll not be voting for Scottish independence come September because I think the entire thing is predicated on a notion that’s on the wrong side of history.
Nationalism has to be about making people think their country is different than others and with that comes the notion of others; them and us. We will be better off without them. And really, that just makes me despair.
Others is such an awful way to look at people. It’s about pride and difference and exclusion and fear. By defining people as other you make it easier to dismiss them; they would say that, think that, do that; to not engage with them, empathise with them, see the commonality or learn from them.
This isn’t about pretending people aren’t different, it’s about how you treat the differences; the level at which you look at the differences. I am different from everyone else, I cannot help but be. Above that level and the strokes you draw to distinguish have to become increasingly broad and resultingly increasingly inaccurate. The map increasingly is not the territory if you like. At a country level there is as much difference within the country as there is outwith it so to say we should be independent because we are we and they are they sits ill with me.
I say the wrong side of history because great things are, on the whole, done by people coming together, taking advantage of their diversity of skills, ideas, experiences and knowledge, to do more than they can manage on their own. By standing up and saying we are apart, in however small a way, you make that harder, you make it easier to say we will solve problems in our way, we will solve our problems. It reduces us.
posted at: 19:45 #
Fri, 27 Dec 2013
Of all the things that the increasing move to digital allows one of the most pervasive is counting. Websites count how many people visit, they count which articles are popular, how many people like things, how many people buy things. They also count how long people spend on the website, how often they come back in a month, how long they spend on individual pages. They count everything they can.
Once they’ve counted they can use those numbers to work out what’s popular, what sort of headlines result in more people reading an article, or at least clicking through to it or linking to it. That information is then used to tailor the content of the site, to decide what to focus on and how to present it in order to increase the numbers. The sophisticated sites present the same content slightly differently to different people and compare the numbers. If it’s an online shop you can count people at each step in the process of buying something to see where those that don’t buy stop, and then use that to try and move people further through the process. It’s all terribly useful for improving your site.
And it provokes a sense of unease in me.
Unease at the way things are reduced to the countable, at the use of numbers to justify doing things, unease at how it makes things into a puzzle to solve.
All this analysis is useful and you can learn a great deal about how people use your site but I worry about what feels to me like the increasing primacy of numbers in making decisions. I worry that not only are we relying on numbers too much, we’re trying to count things that can’t be and making judgements based on those numbers. Mostly I worry that all this counting only answers the small questions but encourages to concentrate on them because they can be answered.
posted at: 16:49 #
Sun, 08 Sep 2013
Sardinia reminds me of a sketch on a Radio 4 comedy which went along the lines of “Welcome to Radio 3. Quiet, isn’t it?” For late August and early September there are remarkably few people about. This is, on the whole, a good thing but does lend everywhere a slight post apocalypse edge. The hard core commitment to siesta that seems to come with Italian island living only adds to the mood. Even the slightly upmarket tourist resort that, through lack of diligent enough research, we are in for the second week is eerily quiet.
While it lacks many people what the resort does have is wild pigs. Not, in as much as I am a judge of pigs, very large ones or great herds of them but enough that you quickly learn to identify the sound when they wake you snuffling about outside the window in the middle of the night. On the whole they seem watchfully curious, rather cute and add a certain amount of character to the manufactured nature of the place. There are days when we probably see as many pigs as people.
Apparently the draw for the few people here are the beaches which seems a great shame as much of the interior is stunning; “great craggles” is an apt summary. There’s also some flat plains and some lumpy, but non craggly, bits but it’s the many and various ways that rocks sticks out the ground that provide the best of the scenery. With great craggles comes great twistyness but as a holiday feels incomplete without some time spent slaloming through mountain roads this is firmly in the plus column. Your mileage may, in a very literal way, vary.
Sadly is seems that this great interior does not foster the best of Italian cuisine and the beach based tourism certainly doesn’t foster the best of Italian architecture. There is also not the same rich vein of towns where afternoons can be swallowed up in idle wandering as in other parts of Italy and the local specialities are at the rustic end. Crowds and getting a table are never an issue though.
Also not an issue is Bronze Age towers for there are thousands of them in various states of repair. A few have guides and information but mostly they are scattered casually about the island with only a small brown sign to draw the attention. More impressive is the willingness of the guide at the one we visit to admit that most of what he is telling you is guesswork. There are towers; they were built between 1600 BC and 800 BC; they were abandoned. Probably is as good as the whys seem to get and quite a few are “no idea, here is some speculation on the matter”. It’s nothing whatsoever to do with the Carthaginians though, that much is very definite.
The other defining characteristic of Sardinia is the grossly over-engineered road junctions. The idea of two roads simply meeting is something of an anathema to the road planners so each junction comes with little dividing islands, directions arrows and give ways signs at a minimum. If you are unlucky then you come across what can only be the work of a frustrated knot theorist.
Not really being the beach going type I can’t say much about the beaches.
posted at: 21:06 #
Wed, 07 Aug 2013
This isn’t really about wheel sizes but about a thing that’s been bugging me for a while about bike reviews and all the fuss about 650b has brought it into focus.
I read quite a bit about press camps for bike journalists and one thing they all have in common, from what I can tell, is a structure that goes “tell them what we’ve done and then let them ride the bikes”. This seems problematic to me in that the journalist riding the new bike is then prepped with what they should be looking for. If you’re told a bike is supposed to me more X then you can’t help thinking about the Xness of he bike. You’re experience of the bike has been framed.
I’d be much happier with bike tests done in ignorance of the supposed benefits of the bike.
posted at: 20:44 #
Mon, 02 Apr 2012
As with a great many activities there is an element of cycling culture that is a bit hostile to newcomers. There’s always going to be a learning curve in taking up a hobby and there’s not much to be done about that but there’s a few aspects within cycling which seem to be actively unhelpful.
Possibly the best distillation of this is in Velominati’s The Rules which, I hope, is partly satire but contains a fair helping of truth. There is some good advice in there but a lot of it falls into two categories: worship of suffering and style policing.
The former of these is a constant within the road cycling fraternity; every road cyclist wants to be Belgian and regarded as a hard man. And yes, there is something heroic in the ability of the professional cyclist to suffer but I can’t help but think that the better living through suffering ethic isn’t all that welcoming.
The style policing which is prevalent in mountain biking as well, albeit in a different form from that captured in The Rules, I find the more objectionable of the two. If someone is on a bike they should be encouraged, not told that they have the wrong colour or type of shorts.
There is an argument to be had that I am taking this too seriously but time spent on cycling forums tells me I am not. On almost any topic you care to mention there will people who are serious in their derision of people for breaching some arbitrary convention who then go on to defend it by appealing to circumstances entirely irrelevant to all but the most serious of cyclist.
The core issue I have with this is the underlying notion that the vast majority of people who cycle are, in some way, not proper cyclists when in fact we should be pleased every time we see anyone on a bike. I know for some people the increase in cycling commuters is an irritation but for me one of the cheering things about visiting London in recent years is the stream of cyclists at either end of the day. It makes me happy every time I see it.
Every one of those commuters, regardless of how slow, wobbly or poor their gear selection is someone on a bike and the more of them there are the better it is for everyone else on a bike. Years ago the bags of Edinburgh Bicycle carried a quote from H.G. Wells that forms the tl;dr for all of the above: “Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race.”
posted at: 21:26 #
Thu, 01 Mar 2012
Among the unsung joys of bicycle ownership is how easy they are to fix; a bit of knowledge and a few allen keys goes a long way with a bike. Not only does this make them cheap to run, or at least potentially cheap, there’s also an extra pride in owning something that you maintain.
Most of the maintenance is actually more accurately termed cleaning for which some rags and a toothbrush will suffice. However, even common maintenance like replacing brake pads, tweaking gears and replacing the chain only requires the addition of a chain splitter to the allen keys. A few more tools and you can replace the entire drivetrain when it wears out, one or two more and you can remove and replace the forks and then you can start thinking about building your own wheels.
And with that you’ve build your own bike which comes with yet another boost to the pride in ownership. If you’re really keen you can go on a framebuilding course and come out the other end with a frame you made yourself.
I am not that keen.
posted at: 23:21 #
Mon, 10 Oct 2011
Every sport has it’s own history and tradition; cycling’s is longer than most and the Giro di Lombardia is one of the oldest events. It’s usually been the last big race on the calendar, coming as it does as autumn properly sets in, hence the Race of the Falling Leaves nickname.
And now the UCI have moved the date to September and the week after the World Championships. There’s all sorts of reasons to do with rider motivation and ability to peak for both the Worlds and Lombardy that this might be a good thing for the quality of the field but it makes me sad.
I’m sad that the end of the season is now likely to be the Tour of Beijing, an event created by the UCI for possibly good reasons but an event lacking in any character. It might improve but going on it’s inaugural edition it’s going to be more of a fading out of the season than a last hurrah.
I’m also sad as it’s inevitably going to change the character of the race, if in no other way than greatly decreasing the likely hood of the grim weather that’s accompanied some of the great editions in the past. Part of the appeal of the race is that it is, as with many of the classics, a hard man’s race. The list of previous winners is enough to confirm that. I fear that moving it forward a month will reduce that part of it’s mythology, somehow make the race seem less of a spectacle.
Mostly I’m sad as it’s another example of the romance of the sport being slowly eaten away. History matters in sport; it gives events personality and fosters emotional attachment, for both participants and fans.
posted at: 20:13 #
Fri, 08 Apr 2011
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posted at: 07:50 #
Sat, 05 Mar 2011
At some point I will learn that listening to Any Questions only makes me grumpy but today is not that day. On this occasion it was listening to Lord Falconer asserting that the quality of health care in Scotland had decreased under the SNP government.
What irked me wasn’t the claim but the way he substantiated it: health spending in Scotland has only increased by 4% a year versus 6% in England. The accuracy or otherwise of the statistics is less relevant than the choice of statistics and the underlying implication that spending more means better health care. This either points to naivety on the part of Lord Falconer or disingenuousness. Disappointingly no one on the panel actually questioned this.
posted at: 20:02 #