tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post7856907417460021584..comments2023-10-03T11:41:21.191+01:00Comments on The Truth About Lies: Internet addiction and youJim Murdochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-36930221193884326832013-11-06T19:17:25.490+00:002013-11-06T19:17:25.490+00:00So much to like in that.
"Maybe supermen nee...So much to like in that.<br /><br />"Maybe supermen need superloves but that’s not me."<br /><br />A little thing, all of its own.<br /><br />Thanks for your highly-valued responses, hither and yon. Ken Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-76129972069123347012013-11-05T11:33:00.326+00:002013-11-05T11:33:00.326+00:00The thing about blogs, Ken, in fact the thing abou...The thing about blogs, <b>Ken</b>, in fact the thing about all things in this life is that there’s a certain point when you can get too much of even a good thing. I used to think as a randy young boy you could never get too much sex but, yes, you can. And you can get too much of friends too. I remember a scripture from my childhood which says something along the lines of: Let your feed be rare at your friend’s door (very bad paraphrase). At the time I didn’t get it because as soon as I was free all I wanted to do was be with my friends, the same friends I’d just spent all day at school with. But as I got older (and wisdom descended on me like a cloud) I started to get the point. And the point is, as the showmen realised, leave ’em wanting more. I <i>look forward</i> to your blogs and that’s the way to keep an audience. As fond as I was of Dave he did start to post too much during that last year for me to be able to take the time to relish his work so I ended up not commenting on every one the way I once did … and that made me feel bad but there are only so many hours in the day.<br /><br />When Carrie and I first got together I worried how long the novelty would last. In my experience it’s good for about five years and when I look back on my life most of my relationships have died a natural death after about five years. The ones that didn’t should have. So it was a big thing for us to get through the five year barrier which we did I’m happy to say and two more times after that. I’ve loved a lot of people in my life and I’ve always thought it was this mysterious thing, true love, and it never has been. I’ve no idea if what I feel now is this true love of which people speak but whatever it is I’m comfortable with it. I frequently quote from <i>Brave New World</i>, the line about happiness—“Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery”—and I think you can say much the same about love. It’s not particularly exciting—it’s not in the nature of excitement to last any length of time—nor is it any superlative for much the same reason. Maybe supermen need superloves but that’s not me. <br /><br />I don’t write a lot of love poetry—once someone knows you love them what more is there to say, it’s a sorry kind of love that looks for constant reassurance—but every now and then one slips out: <br /><br /> Broken Things<br /> <br /> (for Carrie)<br /> <br /> I don't know <br /> how clocks work<br /> <br /> or time works<br /> or hearts work.<br /> <br /> I know that<br /> broken things <br /> <br /> shouldn't work<br /> but I know<br /> <br /> that we work<br /> though not how.<br /> <br /> Some things don't<br /> need a how<br /> <br /> or a why.<br /> <br /> <br /> Monday, 17 December 2007<br /><br />As for the bird he’s not one for climbing the curtains although he does chat to them from time to time. For most of the past three weeks he’s been investigating the corner where Dad’s bureau is, chewing on the frame that holds a photo of one of Carrie’s grandchildren. Oh, and he’s discovered the top of the fan’s a cool place to perch after about seven years; quick he is not. I’ve also had to cover Carrie’s laptop with a towel. In her absence he’s been flying over to it and chewing on the cables; he really is a destructive little bugger. Mostly the cardboard boxes on top of his cage keep him occupied—he can rip an Amazon cardboard box to shreds in about a month—but you do have to keep an eye on him.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-35192967897524789582013-11-04T23:22:09.089+00:002013-11-04T23:22:09.089+00:00I think once a week of me would be enough for me t...I think once a week of me would be enough for me too. <br /><br />Dave's blog had Integrity, like yours. He ploughed his furrow well.<br /><br />Hope the Missus is back soon, you kind-of sound like you need a hug and the bird is up on the curtains again. Ken Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-44806401389781164982013-11-03T18:03:03.920+00:002013-11-03T18:03:03.920+00:00A week isn’t long, Ken. A week is a holiday. A wee...A week isn’t long, <b>Ken</b>. A week is a holiday. A week is long enough for you to start to miss something. I’m quite happy for Carrie to bugger off to the States for a week any time she pleases. I can tolerate a fortnight but three weeks just kills me. It’s been three weeks this time and I’m into that third week now and I’ve had enough. I’m not addicted to my wife. If she dropped dead tomorrow I would go on without her. I’d miss her but I’d cope. But I wouldn’t be happy coping on my own. It’s hard enough coping with her (not with <i>her</i> but <i>with</i> her) but what does one do? <br /><br />Addictions are usually detrimental to our wellbeing. Carrie can be a pain in the butt at times but I’m better off with her than without her. I could walk away from the Internet tomorrow and really not miss it. I’m talking about the social aspects to it which I have struggled with for years. I’m simply not that person. Twitter in particular I cannot grasp. I’ve subscribed to a handful of people but it’s just this wall of words and 99% of it isn’t remotely interesting to me. Some of yours pass my way and as much as I like you I never know what to do with them. If I can think of something witty to say then I do. Mostly I can’t. Facebook is a little more tolerable but I guess I don’t get other people. I don’t have the right mindset for any of it. It mostly seems like I’m wasting my time trawling through posts looking for those one or two interesting things. <br /><br />I wish I could subscribe to a few more interesting blogs. I look at the posts that arrive in my feedreader and it’s the same ol’ ones that I respond to and now even Dave King’s gone with no one to take his place. Where are all the interesting people? Burning themselves out on Facebook and Twitter probably. <br /><br />How long does a fix last anyway? As long as you get enough of a fix every day then you might feel as if you were in control. And are people an addiction? We can certainly develop dependencies on others and many do. I look forward to your posts at the weekends and I miss them if they’re not there but a weekly fix of Ken Armstrong seems to be enough topped up by the occasional quip on Facebook just to remind me that you’re still alive. I don’t know. I keep coming back to the whole notion of return on investment. I look at the effort I’ve put in over the years to get to know people and what have I got in return? The people I would’ve developed friendships with I would’ve become friends with anyway.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-14759900494829475522013-11-03T14:36:09.832+00:002013-11-03T14:36:09.832+00:00Am I addicted? It's a question I've consid...Am I addicted? It's a question I've considered. I don't think so but then all the best addicts say that.<br /><br />I do look to twitter for companionship and interaction and I have done for a long time. That's cos I enjoy fast disposable interaction and I don't know anybody in real life anymore who I can do that with.<br /><br />The reason I don't think I'm addicted is that I can go away from it for a week and never wonder about it all. I also set my hours to suit me - evenings and at weekends mostly. I work my 40 hours a week and never look to it then, though it's right there and I could if I chose to...<br /><br />... I'm protesting too much I reckon. I better go and think it out again. :) Ken Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-18281245414612376402013-10-30T00:57:49.984+00:002013-10-30T00:57:49.984+00:00Before my daughter was born, Gwilliam, she owned o...Before my daughter was born, <b>Gwilliam</b>, she owned one hundred books. I scoured the bookshops until I finally got her a full set of Brer Rabbit books—I remember finding the last one in a bookshop on Princes Street in Edinburgh—and I had fully intended to buy her the complete Ladybird library until I saw just how many titles they actually published but she got a good selection. To my delight she took after her mother who could polish off a half dozen books in a week in fact her mum was so fast I used to give her books I didn’t have time to read and she’d summarise them for me. Pity the marriage didn’t last because that trick could’ve come in handy. I love books but I’ve never been a fast reader. To this day my daughter reads and she’ll buy a paperback rather than an ebook too although all her university textbooks were electronic. <br /><br />I can fully understand a mother giving her kid a computer game to keep it entertained—our mothers stuck us in front of the TV (well, maybe the generation after mine did)—and it didn’t do them any harm. If you’re going to give your kid a console give them a Kindle or a tablet. Find out where all the suitable sites are and direct their attention. You can’t avoid them—as soon as they go to school they’ll enter that world—but at least you can do something to affect their mindset early. I’m just glad I’m done with all that.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-45936524825198792902013-10-29T19:58:23.094+00:002013-10-29T19:58:23.094+00:00Funny thing Jim - I was just eating a bar of dark ...Funny thing Jim - I was just eating a bar of dark chocolate containing 70% cocoa - and when read your piece I suddenly remembered something - when I was a child I was often given a warm mug of cocoa at bedtime. There was no internet in the 1950s and I listened avidly to the wireless everything from Listen With Mother to Quatermass, and when I wasn't doing that I was reading my dad's newspaper. Some might say I was addicted to these things. Now I see children as young as 3 or 4 riding on the trams witheir mothers who hand them computer games to keep them quiet, when surely a book would be better. Maybe they'll grow up to be NSA operatives or drone pilots. World is changing faster than I thought. That's what I read here. So I suppose we oldies must join the dance. We have little choice in the matter it seems.Gwil Whttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03305768121713053837noreply@blogger.com