So for those of you, like me, who checked their email in the last hour, you’ll have noticed that you’ve suddenly started recieving emails any time you were sent a reply or mentioned on Twitter. Same goes for retweets, or if your tweets are marked as favourites. As birthday boy Bob Dylan might have said, “Twitter, it is a changin’”*
Now the easy thing to do is sign in, go to settings and click on the notifications tab. There you can select what emails you want to get or don’t want to get.
It was a bit unexpected to see a schwack of emails in my inbox. A flurry quite similar to spam. OK in a Twitter stream but not so much in my inbox. I understand why they defaulted everyone to recieve emails for everything - much easier to indicate to everyone there is a change by making it happen then to send an email. And a whole hell of a lot cheaper too.
But it does beg the question why it matters or not if I tick the box that says I want an email for: “Product or service updates related to my Twitter account.” Wouldn’t this consist as an update?
Note: This is not a result of the rapture nor will it change the world. Neither will this blog post.
*And please don’t hate me cause I’m cheesy :)
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Twitter notifications have a-changed
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
My Beastie Boy poem for Ruth
Tonight I had the pleasure of performing at the Waltham Forest Literary Festival. I opened with my teenage boy poem (or as it referred to, my Beastie Boy poem). All about music, I did it in tribute to my recent weekend at ATP (or All Tomorrow’s Parties for those of you who haven’t heard of this awesome festival).
One of the women in the front row, Ruth, was nodding along, laughing. Ah, a kindred spirit! Turns out she was at ATP as well. And as she wanted a copy of the poem and it’s not in any books, here it is in all it’s glory. Hope you like it Ruth! See you in December :)
"In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy.
I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy who wants to be a rocker, who wants to be a skater, who wants to be a punk, who wants to be Eminem.
Underneath this skin, I’m hoodied-up, bagged out, booted, suited, walking with a swagger, a swagger with a hip out, skateboard dangling from my arm, badged, buttoned, pinned, with greasy hair, hidden eyes, wearing a well practiced, too many nights in front of the mirror kind of sneer.
In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy. I blame my mum. People usually blame parents, aunts, uncles, cousins for how they turned out, so I? I blame my mum.
After wearing out her ears with Annie the Musical on repeat, my mum decided to take drastic action. I, like every other girl, wanted to be the spunky red-headed urchin with the heart of gold who could dance, sing, and bag the man with the big bucks. My mum was well past that age, hid the tape from sight, citing I wore it out and the stores were sold out of it…forever.
I was left bereft, retreated to darkened basements to watch MTV on repeat and sink further into tom boy ways, hang with cousins hitting teenage boy age. We sat in pick up trucks and they puffed on stolen cigarettes, cranked music - Poisen, Styx, Ozzy and Def Leppard until I ate, slept and dreamed to Thunder, an anthem far removed from the InSync, Boys2Men, NKOTB boy band cutouts all the girly girls listened to.
So in my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy. And when metal turned skate punk, NOFX, Goldfinger, I lost myself in clothes two times too large. My PIMP emblazoned hoodie marked me for compliments as my friends and I passed notes entirely in Beastie Boy lyrics. We were going to fight for our right to party.
I stood barefoot in hack circles, perfecting my body as target for that tiny bean bag. Hack-y-sack. Hack-y-sack. Sat on street corners as the boys perfected double-axle parallels, backside kick flips, half-caps, eagle slides, ollies, hardflips, and maybe even a frontside rail catch before retreating to all-night Street Fighter tournaments that sometimes ended in broken fingers and black eyes.
Going to clubs, to dives, to gigs, I body slammed and moshed my way through uni, soared above bodies as I crowd surfed, hands pushing me higher, kicking out to keep up, hitting shoulders, wrists, arms, backs (and once, the back of my friend’s head) with my steel toed boots. But it didn’t matter. I was flying.
Underneath this skin, I’m hoodied-up, bagged out, booted, suited, walking with a swagger, a swagger with a hip out, skateboard dangling from my arm, badged, buttoned, pinned, with greasy hair, hidden eyes, wearing a well practiced, too many nights in front of the mirror kind of sneer.
In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy.
I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy who wants to be a rocker, who wants to be a skater, who wants to be a punk, who wants to be Eminem.”
One of the women in the front row, Ruth, was nodding along, laughing. Ah, a kindred spirit! Turns out she was at ATP as well. And as she wanted a copy of the poem and it’s not in any books, here it is in all it’s glory. Hope you like it Ruth! See you in December :)
"In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy.
I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy who wants to be a rocker, who wants to be a skater, who wants to be a punk, who wants to be Eminem.
Underneath this skin, I’m hoodied-up, bagged out, booted, suited, walking with a swagger, a swagger with a hip out, skateboard dangling from my arm, badged, buttoned, pinned, with greasy hair, hidden eyes, wearing a well practiced, too many nights in front of the mirror kind of sneer.
In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy. I blame my mum. People usually blame parents, aunts, uncles, cousins for how they turned out, so I? I blame my mum.
After wearing out her ears with Annie the Musical on repeat, my mum decided to take drastic action. I, like every other girl, wanted to be the spunky red-headed urchin with the heart of gold who could dance, sing, and bag the man with the big bucks. My mum was well past that age, hid the tape from sight, citing I wore it out and the stores were sold out of it…forever.
I was left bereft, retreated to darkened basements to watch MTV on repeat and sink further into tom boy ways, hang with cousins hitting teenage boy age. We sat in pick up trucks and they puffed on stolen cigarettes, cranked music - Poisen, Styx, Ozzy and Def Leppard until I ate, slept and dreamed to Thunder, an anthem far removed from the InSync, Boys2Men, NKOTB boy band cutouts all the girly girls listened to.
So in my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy. And when metal turned skate punk, NOFX, Goldfinger, I lost myself in clothes two times too large. My PIMP emblazoned hoodie marked me for compliments as my friends and I passed notes entirely in Beastie Boy lyrics. We were going to fight for our right to party.
I stood barefoot in hack circles, perfecting my body as target for that tiny bean bag. Hack-y-sack. Hack-y-sack. Sat on street corners as the boys perfected double-axle parallels, backside kick flips, half-caps, eagle slides, ollies, hardflips, and maybe even a frontside rail catch before retreating to all-night Street Fighter tournaments that sometimes ended in broken fingers and black eyes.
Going to clubs, to dives, to gigs, I body slammed and moshed my way through uni, soared above bodies as I crowd surfed, hands pushing me higher, kicking out to keep up, hitting shoulders, wrists, arms, backs (and once, the back of my friend’s head) with my steel toed boots. But it didn’t matter. I was flying.
Underneath this skin, I’m hoodied-up, bagged out, booted, suited, walking with a swagger, a swagger with a hip out, skateboard dangling from my arm, badged, buttoned, pinned, with greasy hair, hidden eyes, wearing a well practiced, too many nights in front of the mirror kind of sneer.
In my soul, I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy.
I have the musical tastes of a teenage boy who wants to be a rocker, who wants to be a skater, who wants to be a punk, who wants to be Eminem.”
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Music Memories: Michael Jackson
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bverx-nMWQ?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I was OBSESSED with Michael Jackson since I was six. Or rather from the age of 6 to probably 12. Ben was probably one of my favorite songs outside the Thriller album. I remember spending hours in our basement watching Muchmusic (Canada’s version of MTV) and Video hits. I would watch Michael Jackson marathons and had a Thriller disc for my viewfinder. My favourite T-shirt had Michael Jackson in his iconic silver glove dancing across my shirt in multiple pop art versions of himself. I also had badges of his in the costume he wore when dueting with Paul McCartney.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I don’t remember when my obsession with him faded but it was long before the tabloids smeared his name with accusations of paedophilia. It was sad to see him turn so broken.
When I heard he died, I didn’t believe it was true. I was at my friend Gweneth Herbert’s CD release party and as we stood outside the venue in Dalston with ciders in hand, the word spread through the crowd. I couldn’t believe that our own peter pan was dead. The king of pop. But he was. And here is her tribute to him:
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHWhgarRfl0?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I was OBSESSED with Michael Jackson since I was six. Or rather from the age of 6 to probably 12. Ben was probably one of my favorite songs outside the Thriller album. I remember spending hours in our basement watching Muchmusic (Canada’s version of MTV) and Video hits. I would watch Michael Jackson marathons and had a Thriller disc for my viewfinder. My favourite T-shirt had Michael Jackson in his iconic silver glove dancing across my shirt in multiple pop art versions of himself. I also had badges of his in the costume he wore when dueting with Paul McCartney.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I don’t remember when my obsession with him faded but it was long before the tabloids smeared his name with accusations of paedophilia. It was sad to see him turn so broken.
When I heard he died, I didn’t believe it was true. I was at my friend Gweneth Herbert’s CD release party and as we stood outside the venue in Dalston with ciders in hand, the word spread through the crowd. I couldn’t believe that our own peter pan was dead. The king of pop. But he was. And here is her tribute to him:
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHWhgarRfl0?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
Sunday, 8 May 2011
The couch to 42k plan...to run around the world
Marianne McPhee (@fillingthepages) and I have a plan. And this plan involves running. Not just running around the park but running around the world.
We first decided to run a 5K for Cancer Research UK after seeing the London Marathon (which was also the anniversary of my Aunt’s death from liver cancer). Now we’ve decided to raise even more money for Cancer Research by putting our bodies to the test and run in events around the globe over the next 18 months. And these bodies are ones that don’t run. I never do things in half measures and I do like an adventure. Plus as cancer affects people around the globe, it seems fitting to take our various runs across it.
First we’re going to run the Race for Life 5K in July in Hyde Park. Then we’d like to do a 10K in Africa at the end of 2011 (still need to find one!). May 2012 will take us to China for the Great Wall Half Marathon. We’ll finish off with the Reggae Marathon in Jamaica in December 2012. It would of course be brilliant to finish our journey across all continents by completing runs in South America, Australia and finish with the Ice Marathon in Antartica. But we’ll start small(-ish) and do what we’ll have to do to get to the end (even if that includes a couple credit cards to complete it).
So what now? We’ll need to:
- train
raise money
try to get sponsors to help us get there
We’d love to try out new gadgets, new programmes, new devices, new equipment, new airplanes, new hotels or your well used couch that’ll help us as we train and run our way to our first marathon. Know someone who can assist us? Or is it you? Please do let us know.
Of course there will be video and sound and pictures. That’s what I like to do - though I can’t promise I’ll always look my best.
So join us on our journey from couch to 42k. Want to run too? We’ll regularly update our sites as we train and if you feel so inclined, do join us.
Donations currectly being accepted on wwww.justgiving.com/C242K.
Saturday, 7 May 2011
Should we celebrate death of any kind?
I meant to write this at the beginning of the week but I think it’s pertainent no matter when it’s written. I was amongst friends on Monday morning when we heard of Bin Laden’s death and it wasn’t until that night that I saw the footage of those celebrating in New York and elsewhere.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kI8EUqbWdM?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I couldn’t believe it. The cheering and singing and drinking to the death of one man. A man that was held up of the root of all evil, but could one man ever embody that? Isn’t it groups of men and women who act, who continue with war and hate. The one man can’t make this happen. It is only if he is believed, if others have this belief, that this happens.
So, as many others did, I put up a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. The first line was actually written by a girl in the states but I will include it in the quote here - I think the combination of the two adds a reflection of our own time to it:
"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that"
As that’s not a real quote, I’ll give you one that is. My mom responded with this statement which really made me think. Mom’s are good at doing that:
"I agree whole heartedly. When I watched footage of the celebrating overseas after the Twin Towers fell I was sickened and I was equally saddened by the footage I watched Sunday night. With Internet, Facebook and Twitter we live on an increasingly shrinking planet. One death will not bring back our loved ones, the hate and terrorism will not stop, there are hundreds waiting in line to replace him. We are such an intelligent people why are we so dumb about peace."
Is this celebration of death any different then what we saw in New York less than a week ago?
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrM0dAFsZ8k?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kI8EUqbWdM?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
I couldn’t believe it. The cheering and singing and drinking to the death of one man. A man that was held up of the root of all evil, but could one man ever embody that? Isn’t it groups of men and women who act, who continue with war and hate. The one man can’t make this happen. It is only if he is believed, if others have this belief, that this happens.
So, as many others did, I put up a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. The first line was actually written by a girl in the states but I will include it in the quote here - I think the combination of the two adds a reflection of our own time to it:
"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that"
As that’s not a real quote, I’ll give you one that is. My mom responded with this statement which really made me think. Mom’s are good at doing that:
"I agree whole heartedly. When I watched footage of the celebrating overseas after the Twin Towers fell I was sickened and I was equally saddened by the footage I watched Sunday night. With Internet, Facebook and Twitter we live on an increasingly shrinking planet. One death will not bring back our loved ones, the hate and terrorism will not stop, there are hundreds waiting in line to replace him. We are such an intelligent people why are we so dumb about peace."
Is this celebration of death any different then what we saw in New York less than a week ago?
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrM0dAFsZ8k?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Music Memories: Nirvana
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28JqQENMbeU?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
When I was in high school, you had a choice to take it in 3 years or 4. Mostly the 4 year route was for those who weren’t doing well in school but I did it so I could do MORE classes. I’m a sucker for punishment. But it meant I got to be in the better band, choir and do a full IB diploma.
In my returning year of grade 12, I was sick of school and was longing to go on to University. Luckily a couple of my friends also stayed behind including my good mate Andrea.
Andrea and I loved Nirvana. Maybe not as much as those who erected memorial crosses on their front lawns when Cobain killed himself, but that’s a bit on the obsessive side anyway.
Now Andrea and I had a spare period together - period 4 I think - so instead of wandering the halls or studying or whatever you do for an hour in the middle of the day, we’d sit in Andrea’s car and sing along to all the songs on Utero. My favourite at the time? Heart Shaped Box. I like melancholy music. I just can’t help myself.
When I was in high school, you had a choice to take it in 3 years or 4. Mostly the 4 year route was for those who weren’t doing well in school but I did it so I could do MORE classes. I’m a sucker for punishment. But it meant I got to be in the better band, choir and do a full IB diploma.
In my returning year of grade 12, I was sick of school and was longing to go on to University. Luckily a couple of my friends also stayed behind including my good mate Andrea.
Andrea and I loved Nirvana. Maybe not as much as those who erected memorial crosses on their front lawns when Cobain killed himself, but that’s a bit on the obsessive side anyway.
Now Andrea and I had a spare period together - period 4 I think - so instead of wandering the halls or studying or whatever you do for an hour in the middle of the day, we’d sit in Andrea’s car and sing along to all the songs on Utero. My favourite at the time? Heart Shaped Box. I like melancholy music. I just can’t help myself.
Music Memories: Nirvana
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28JqQENMbeU?rel=0&w=480&h=390]
When I was in high school, you had a choice to take it in 3 years or 4. Mostly the 4 year route was for those who weren’t doing well in school but I did it so I could do MORE classes. I’m a sucker for punishment. But it meant I got to be in the better band, choir and do a full IB diploma.
In my returning year of grade 12, I was sick of school and was longing to go on to University. Luckily a couple of my friends also stayed behind including my good mate Andrea.
Andrea and I loved Nirvana. Maybe not as much as those who erected memorial crosses on their front lawns when Cobain killed himself, but that’s a bit on the obsessive side anyway.
Now Andrea and I had a spare period together - period 4 I think - so instead of wandering the halls or studying or whatever you do for an hour in the middle of the day, we’d sit in Andrea’s car and sing along to all the songs on Utero. My favourite at the time? Heart Shaped Box. I like melancholy music. I just can’t help myself.
When I was in high school, you had a choice to take it in 3 years or 4. Mostly the 4 year route was for those who weren’t doing well in school but I did it so I could do MORE classes. I’m a sucker for punishment. But it meant I got to be in the better band, choir and do a full IB diploma.
In my returning year of grade 12, I was sick of school and was longing to go on to University. Luckily a couple of my friends also stayed behind including my good mate Andrea.
Andrea and I loved Nirvana. Maybe not as much as those who erected memorial crosses on their front lawns when Cobain killed himself, but that’s a bit on the obsessive side anyway.
Now Andrea and I had a spare period together - period 4 I think - so instead of wandering the halls or studying or whatever you do for an hour in the middle of the day, we’d sit in Andrea’s car and sing along to all the songs on Utero. My favourite at the time? Heart Shaped Box. I like melancholy music. I just can’t help myself.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)