I admit, I'm addicted to Facebook. It's a lot of fun finding out what your friends are up to without the hassle of talking to them, or, God forbid, feigning interest in maintaining an actual conversation. It's kind of like reality TV: you satisfy your voyeuristic tendencies of what goes on in other people's lives without the need to actually get involved. Hooray for Facebook!
One thing I've noticed is the upcoming trend of people attempting their hand at amateur photography, then putting them up on Facebook for all to see, and comment on. With the advent of cheaper digital cameras and built-in cameras in today's mobile phones, nearly everyone can snap pictures with ease, anytime, anywhere.
I generally do not have a problem with people putting up photos and adding their own comments to the photo. Heck, I completely understand the appeal of camwhoring. The vanity aspect of having people commenting on the photos you put up is also totally understandable. Something caught your eye, a thought occurred to you concerning that image, you snap a photo and add your addendum. Completely normal.
What I cannot abide, though, are the poser amateur photographers. This subset of people run around everywhere with their digital handhelds, or, if they splurged, DSLRs and go on some kind of photo-snapping spree. They hang the cameras around their necks (making them great mugging targets) or otherwise tote their DSLRs with oversized flash modules in these boxy cloth bags, snapping anything and everything that captures their fancy.
What separates the posers and the actual, earnest amateurs aren't their techniques, surprisingly. The posers read enough and know enough about depth, focus, lighting and other photography jargon that I can't bear to look up. What separates the posers from the real McCoys/amateurs are their subjects.
People who are actually interested in photography try to capture stories in their pictures. The idea that 'a picture is worth a thousand words' is something that they adhere to. Good pictures evoke thoughts and get people thinking about what the photographer is trying to say. There is real meaning behind such photos, and the best ones are those that describe the world and the human condition in both subtle and aggressive tones.
Posers, on the other hand, snap pictures of things they think would look good. There's nothing wrong with the photos they take, visually. They use camera effects like foreground focus, lens flare and whatnot. The problem here is that the only thoughts they evoke run along the lines of,"oh, I like the angle of that shot" and "that is a nice colour!" and "good closeup", and the automatic "that is a nice shot. Good job!". Notice how all they can do is describe the photo. Nothing else. It doesn't make them think, it doesn't make them feel. It's just a photo.
When I look at such photos, I get thoughts like "boring" and "so?" and "huh?" and "it's a flower. Great. Good for you. You're definitely winning a Pulitzer for this" and "it's a picture of a pair of Crocs. Purple Crocs. Oh my GOD. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU PRETENTIOUS ASSWIPE."
They are airheads. They are fishing for compliments. They are wasting their time, and yours.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Losing ground.
The world isn't fair.
Equality is an illusion.
Fairness is simply a holding pattern while someone figures out a way to screw you over.
We are not all equal. Heck, we were not even created equal. There's always someone out there with the short end of the stick.
I used to fiercely believe that everyone had an equal opportunity to make something of themselves. This is slowly starting to ring hollow. Each person may have different strengths, but the fact that they have strengths doesn't make them equal. Some qualities are worth more than others. There will always be someone greater, and someone lesser. I used to think I was one of the former.
But I am a lesser, to my growing realisation and dismay. My advantages, strengths, and good qualities are easily overshadowed by my weaknesses. When compared against those I pit myself against, I come out the loser.
I detest my station.
Equality is an illusion.
Fairness is simply a holding pattern while someone figures out a way to screw you over.
We are not all equal. Heck, we were not even created equal. There's always someone out there with the short end of the stick.
I used to fiercely believe that everyone had an equal opportunity to make something of themselves. This is slowly starting to ring hollow. Each person may have different strengths, but the fact that they have strengths doesn't make them equal. Some qualities are worth more than others. There will always be someone greater, and someone lesser. I used to think I was one of the former.
But I am a lesser, to my growing realisation and dismay. My advantages, strengths, and good qualities are easily overshadowed by my weaknesses. When compared against those I pit myself against, I come out the loser.
I detest my station.
Epiphany #3
If you want to make someone bleed, cut their skin.
If you want to make someone angry, cut their pride.
If you want to hurt someone deeply, cut their heart.
Of these three, the last is the hardest, because the only way to cut their heart is for them to give it to you freely in the first place.
If you want to make someone angry, cut their pride.
If you want to hurt someone deeply, cut their heart.
Of these three, the last is the hardest, because the only way to cut their heart is for them to give it to you freely in the first place.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
How A Programmer Goes Through Work And Life
I am a programmer by trade. I write ERP software for retail chain stores. It's a decent living.
As a programmer, any code I write has to be completely unambiguous. Everything must be as literal as possible. As many likely scenarios that I can think of which may be encountered by a user must be recognised, accounted and prepared for. My code structure is crisp, clean-cut and heavily commented, so that programmers after me can read my notes and have a clearer idea of what my code is trying to do. It may not be the most optimised or fastest code out there, but it is certainly well-planned and can be figured out easily enough by anyone else.
When customers put in a request for a new function, I interview them by trying to find out exactly what they want. I set parameters and software limits, trying to gauge their scope, their uses, possible points that they may have neglected to include. Once I list it all out to them, and they agree that nothing has been left out, I start work. I make sure that my software fulfills all their requirements. If I cannot, then I meet up with them to explain the problem and work out an alternative. Everything must be clear, literal and detailed to a certain degree. I do this because I hate repeating work, which wastes time and frustrates both myself and the customer. Thus it pisses me off greatly whenever the customer changes their expectations halfway, or signals get crossed and I misunderstand what it was they actually wanted.
In a way, I apply the same values and principles in life. I go about every day based on routine, clear instructions and boundaries, and performing tasks with an expected end result or goal in mind. Unfortunately, unlike code, the world and the people in it rarely follow predictable patterns. It is this kind of unpredictability that lands me in all sorts of trouble and makes life difficult.
I must admit that I have an appalling lack of instinct, especially with regards to other people. I miss obvious facial cues and subtle undertones in conversations. I am lousy when it comes to inventing things on the fly, which makes it very obvious to anyone when I attempt to embellish the truth or outright lie (so I never bother to - everyone finds out nearly instantly anyway).
When the unexpected happens, especially if its for the first time, (a car accident, winning a prize, dog goes missing) I find myself caught more flat-footed than others. I get tongue-tied, struck dumb, I flap my arms around ineffectually, I get frustrated and unnecessarily angry. Being caught unawares, or having something negative happen outside my initial expectations is something I hate very much. It offends my sensibilities. It shouldn't happen. I did it exactly the way I was supposed to do it, so why is everything falling apart? Why can't everything be systematic and clear-cut, like a well-defined scientific experiment? Follow the instructions and any established scientific fact can be replicated and proven, consistently.
I wish life was more like this.
As a programmer, any code I write has to be completely unambiguous. Everything must be as literal as possible. As many likely scenarios that I can think of which may be encountered by a user must be recognised, accounted and prepared for. My code structure is crisp, clean-cut and heavily commented, so that programmers after me can read my notes and have a clearer idea of what my code is trying to do. It may not be the most optimised or fastest code out there, but it is certainly well-planned and can be figured out easily enough by anyone else.
When customers put in a request for a new function, I interview them by trying to find out exactly what they want. I set parameters and software limits, trying to gauge their scope, their uses, possible points that they may have neglected to include. Once I list it all out to them, and they agree that nothing has been left out, I start work. I make sure that my software fulfills all their requirements. If I cannot, then I meet up with them to explain the problem and work out an alternative. Everything must be clear, literal and detailed to a certain degree. I do this because I hate repeating work, which wastes time and frustrates both myself and the customer. Thus it pisses me off greatly whenever the customer changes their expectations halfway, or signals get crossed and I misunderstand what it was they actually wanted.
In a way, I apply the same values and principles in life. I go about every day based on routine, clear instructions and boundaries, and performing tasks with an expected end result or goal in mind. Unfortunately, unlike code, the world and the people in it rarely follow predictable patterns. It is this kind of unpredictability that lands me in all sorts of trouble and makes life difficult.
I must admit that I have an appalling lack of instinct, especially with regards to other people. I miss obvious facial cues and subtle undertones in conversations. I am lousy when it comes to inventing things on the fly, which makes it very obvious to anyone when I attempt to embellish the truth or outright lie (so I never bother to - everyone finds out nearly instantly anyway).
When the unexpected happens, especially if its for the first time, (a car accident, winning a prize, dog goes missing) I find myself caught more flat-footed than others. I get tongue-tied, struck dumb, I flap my arms around ineffectually, I get frustrated and unnecessarily angry. Being caught unawares, or having something negative happen outside my initial expectations is something I hate very much. It offends my sensibilities. It shouldn't happen. I did it exactly the way I was supposed to do it, so why is everything falling apart? Why can't everything be systematic and clear-cut, like a well-defined scientific experiment? Follow the instructions and any established scientific fact can be replicated and proven, consistently.
I wish life was more like this.
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