Time to wind it up?

December 30th, 2009 § 7 comments § permalink

Well, Rocktober was intended to try and get me blogging again, but it just turned into a chore by the end of it. I hope some of you enjoyed it and maybe even checked out some new music. But what it’s pointed out to me is that perhaps I just don’t need a blog any more.

I’ve been doing this since 1997 or so. Since before the word “blog” was coined – it was an “online journal” then. But now I have less free time, more to do offline, and more forms of entertainment jostling for my attention. Also Twitter has moved in and taken up at least a small part of that need to self-publish, even if it is just announcing what I had for lunch or what so-and-so said in the pub.

I’ve been compiling my top 100 albums of the 2000s ready for another post, or series of posts, and have come to the conclusion that there’s really very little point. I’ll probably still post it – I bothered to compile it after all – but after that I may well wrap this whole thing up. My archive goes back to 2003 here at cm.com, purely because before that I was doing it manually, and from that point on I was using a blog engine which let me move my archive from place to place. I hope it’s been enjoyable to some, perhaps even occasionally informative or amusing.

But I think it may be time to hang up the keyboard officially.

Yell if this displeases you – I do still read the comments – but unless life changes wildly in the coming months I can’t see me feeling like updating this thing very much more.

One thing I can say – my top 100 albums of the 00s will feature a lot less Jack White than NME’s chart.

–c.

Hooray for Charlie

June 23rd, 2008 § 0 comments § permalink

The ever-excellent Charlie Stross tells us why – in his opinion – unplugging wall-warts to save energy is just silly.

Big up, Charlie, I’m with you.
–c.

The Underpeople

October 11th, 2007 § 0 comments § permalink

“What shall I tell you about the people who inhabited the caves below the Lido? Their eyes were huge and unseeing. They had an ingenious method for hunting bats. It goes like this: you wait until you can hear wings snickering in the air around you. You pluck a stone from the floor of the cave and throw it over your head. The bat’s sonar registers the small flying object as an insect, and it swoops down for a snack. You swing the tennis racket hard and if you time it just right you knock the little squeaker out of the air and then you fall on it and pull off its wings and roast it on a spit over a fire.”

Magnificent.

–c.

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