Opinions of Insufficient Interest

It's time to reveal my deepest, darkest secret. I'm on a research panel. Every week or so, the nice people at the market research agency Harris email me a questionnaire about all kinds of weird and wonderful topics.

Sometimes it's not so interesting. "What is your opinion on mobile phones?", "Tell us your thoughts on train travel", "Hello, what do you think about socks?" - OK, actually that last one is made up. Could you tell?

Now and again I get interesting surveys about new products. I got asked what I thought of the packaging for some cheese, and also a new range of frozen chicken. I'm pleased to share my thoughts and participate in this vital scientific research.

This afternoon I was invited to take part in a new survey. "We'd like your opinions on interesting health topics!", they said. It turns out that "interesting health topics" means "sex toys", and once again, I am starting to wonder if I have somehow started to gain some kind of reputation. Perhaps Harris have been talking to Amazon, who after their somewhat frisky email last year, have at least not troubled me again.

But back to the questionnaire. Question 1 wants to know which kinds of implements I use, or have used, in my lovemaking boudoir. Condoms, sir? Well, of course, what considerate gentleman doesn't? My answer to this question is strictly theoretical, as long time readers will know, but I try to approximate my answers for the benefit of scientific research.

How about 'specialist' soap for lovemaking purposes? Well, have to admit, I never realised that such a thing existed. That'll be a 'no' then.

Vibrators? No. How about non-vibrating toys, sir? Hmm... Lubricants? No.

And then the questionnaire went away as quickly as it arrived. It seems that my answers were insufficiently exciting to merit any further questioning. Once I noticed that the other side had lost interest, I tried to go back and change my answers to something more entertaining, but this was not allowed, and my first answer is sadly the only one that can be accepted.

It seems that, as with all matters of the heart, once I open my mouth, everyone loses interest, and I can't go back and change my answers. Even the cold, scientific, calculating computers of the Harris organisation did not consider my sex life to be a suitable candidate for further surveying.

Of course Harris has rejected me before, having decided that only having heard of Jean-Paul Gaultier and Yves-Saint Laurent rendered me too common to participate in a survey about Haute Couture. So I should be used to such a brush-off. Nonetheless, the realisation that even computers don't love me or find me very interesting is quite a blow. It is, at least, consistent with other people's real-life experience of me, but it's still not always a pleasure to have it confirmed. But I am taking it well.

Perhaps next week I will be invited to discuss my opinions on frozen meals for one. No, wait.. they did that a few weeks ago! Waaaah!

Simple Simon

As the grand clear-up continues, I am finding all sorts of previously forgotten items. Not least, my long-lost Simon. Simon is an electronic game, popular in the early 1980s when there was not much else to do. If you're not familiar with Simon, let me remind you - imagine a circular, space-ship kind of thing, with four large coloured buttons on it. One red, one green, one yellow, one blue.

 

The game is to repeat what Simon does. Press the 'on' button and Simon will light up the red button, making a cheery musical note as he does so. You press the red button. Simon lights up the red button, and then the green button, to the sound of more musical accompaniment. You press the red button, then the green button.

 

Simon is not finished. Red Green Blue, goes Simon. Red Green Blue, you press. Red Green Blue Yellow, says Simon. Red Green Blue Yellow, you press. Before you know it, Simon says Red Green Blue Yellow Blue Blue Green Red Yellow Yellow Red, and you're desperately trying to remember whether it was Red Green Blue Yellow Blue Blue Green Red Yellow Yellow Red or Red Green Blue Yellow Blue Blue Green Red Yellow Yellow Green. You only need to press the final green button to find out that you were wrong. The sound of an electronic raspberry proves that, once again, man is inferior to any machine with some lights and a 9 volt battery.

 

An electronic game I didn't own for myself, but did quite like nonetheless, was the "Speak and Spell". What could be more educational than a little computerised friend, constantly probing, searching, challenging the enquiring young mind of the onlooker, if it would please spell "bacon".

 

I had a chance to play with one of these just recently, in fact. "Now spell 'Bike'..", it suggested. It echoed the letters as I pressed the keys on its surface. "B. I. K. E. That is correct. Now spell flooph."

 

What?

 

"Now spell fluuph."

 

Erm.. What?

 

"Fluuph.", the computerised voice repeated, not sounding remotely peeved by the constant requests to repeat the question. (It had a button to do that, you know.)

 

I had no idea. So I gave it my best shot.

 

"Eff. Ell. You. You. Pee. Aitch. That is wrong. Try again. Spell flmmf."

 

I had no idea what word it was asking me to spell. I tried again.

 

"Eff. Ell. Oh. Oh. Aitch. That is incorrect. Try again. Spell fpllmfph."

 

I'd had enough by this point.

 

"Exx. Eff. Kew. Kew. Tee. Ess. Emm."

 

At least I knew that after three tries, it would eventually spell the word for me.

 

"That is in-correct. The word is fmmplupfh. Eff. Mmm. Emm. Fffph. - Fmmplupfh!"

 

I never did find out what the word was. I'm quite sure that I'll wake up one morning, about twenty or thirty years in the future, and suddenly work it out. But for now, the mysterious word remains a mystery.

 

So my point is this. While it's no Speak and Spell, I have found Simon once again. If I find some suitable batteries I might entertain his lightshow for a few moments, before ruthlessly selling him on eBay. Because while cleaning up I have found many things to sell on eBay. Not least, my old shredder, which I thought was broken.

 

Turns out that it wasn't broken, it was just resting. In fact it works as well as it ever did - which is not very well, it being loud and noisy (although very fast,) and only turning my confidential papers into long 7mm strips. Which is not really 'shredding' at all, I think. So now that I have a new shredder which does the job far more thoroughly and consistently, onto eBay the old one shall go.

 

I hope I can keep this up. I'm starting to run out of space for all the things I'm going to be putting on eBay. And what if they don't sell? Actually I can answer that already. To the bin, or to the charity shop, they shall go. Just got to remember - being ruthless is the key. Meantime, the cleanup continues.

Ruthless

I have been busy and industrious as the grand clear-up continues. As you can see from the picture, I can now see some wallpaper which has not been visible for a good long time now. As you will also see, there is still much to do, but at least I feel as if I've been doing something.

Essential to the business of cleaning house is the ability to be ruthless. I gained this just recently, having woken up to the realisation that much of my clutter is a result of boxes which I haven't unpacked since I first moved house something like 19 years ago. Even a compulsive hoarder like me can work out that anything not touched in 19 years is probably not likely to be missed.

So, colour me ruthless. I heaved a big box of rubbish into the bins earlier today, and so there are now several possessions which I am now without:

- If, for example, I wish to play a nice game of Monopoly, I will have to buy a new set, because I threw my old one out!

- Should I need, for any reason, to consult the 1992 Laserdisc catalogue from Thames Valley Laser, I will be fresh out of luck, because I threw it away.

- If I want to punch a hole in something, I won't be able to, because I threw away my old pointy tool doodicky that is used for punching holes in things.

- If I need to consult the 30-year-old electronics book which I was given for Christmas in 1980, I will be disappointed, because I threw that away too. OK, it was pretty useless back then too, but even so.

- If I ever want to complete a nice crossword from that vast collection of unused fifteen-year-old puzzle books I threw away.. well, that might not be possible.

- In the event of my needing that old Rubik's cube which I peeled all the stickers off (rendering it entirely black) I will not be able to, because I even threw that priceless artifact away as well. (But rest assured, kids, the special edition 1981 Charles & Diana wedding commemorative Rubik's Cube remains safe.)

I'm not sure what I'm going to do without these things. If ever I need them again I am sure the pain will be quite unbearable. But in the meantime, it makes me feel as if I'm doing something. And, as I said earlier, I can at least see some wallpaper now. It must be a good sign.

King Of Postage II

In the universe, there are certain inevitable cycles of events. Day follows night, Spring follows Winter, and vast downpours of rain follows hanging your clothes out on the washing line. But in these modern times, new cycles exist too, and so it is that for every cheap listing day on eBay, approximately 10 to 12 days later the many Post Offices up and down the land soon fill up with people posting off their successfully sold items of tat.

It was with this in mind, therefore, that the King of Postage made another trip to his local Posterie this afternoon. Unseen forces had clearly reduced the crowds beforehand, in order not to impede the King's progress, and so it was that once more his Imperial Majesty took his place in the queue. While, as outlined before, the King could just dump his packages and leave, he enjoys spending time with non-Kings, observing their behaviour.

Ahead of him in the queue today, the King observed a young couple with several packages to send. Yes, you can always spot a fellow eBay seller, especially 10 to 12 days after a cheap listing day. It was clear that they were moderately serious about the endeavour, also, having wrapped several of their items in those shiny blue mailing bags that (as cycle follows cycle) you can only seem to buy on eBay.

The King was pleased for these youngsters, starting out on what I am sure will be a long and successful career of eBay selling. But it was clear that they still had things to learn, because, once again, they were handing over their packages one at a time, asking the lady behind the counter to weigh it and say how much the stamps would be. They had brought unstamped packages into the Post Office! In the presence of the King!

Ordinarily this would be some kind of Imperial Offence, but the King Of Postage is a merciful King, and took no sanction against the young couple. Instead, with perfect timing, he approached the serving window next to them, which had just become available, and uttered the immortal words.

"Can I drop these in, please? They all have stamps on already."

The lady behind the counter was clearly delighted at the King's thoughtfulness, and so it was once more that the imperial packages were passed over. The young couple alongside could only look on in awe as the King's business was done with speed and efficiency. They will also have noticed the King's use of those same shiny blue mailing bags that even they, as ordinary people, have access to. The lady gazed at me, admiringly, no doubt resolving to bash her boyfriend over the head once they got home, and wanting to know why they can't put stamps on their parcels BEFORE entering the Post Office, in a similarly Kingly fashion.

"Hail to the King!", I am sure several people said, just after I left the premises, my business complete for another day.

Executive Leather

Although I look around me and still see nought but boxes, it has been a busy and mildly productive weekend. Really.

On Saturday I travelled into town to pick up some essential items of tidiness. One, a new shredder. My existing shredder turned up its toes after I used it too much, and apparently that's not how shredders should be operated. At first resolving never to buy such useless technology again, I soon found that being unable to shred was a major barrier to the tidying-up project. Too many items of interest that just can't be thrown away in an unsecured fashion - such as the thousands of credit card cheques which I seem to keep getting sent.

Item number two, a new office chair upon which to sit. My old office chair has given good service (probably about four or five years) but in recent months has developed an annoying habit of sinking to the ground whenever it is sat upon. This is, to put it mildly, bloody infuriating. And finally, I could take it no more. Were it not to have been replaced immediately, I would have single-handedly hurled it down three flights of stairs. Actually that might have taken too long, I'm far more likely to have hurled it over the balcony, which would be very bad news for my neighbours below.

So it was that after a little queueing in Argos, I ordered a slightly more expensive shredder than I had last time, and a slightly less expensive office chair than I had last time. I sometimes worry about shopping in Argos, since I hear that it is not good for the image, but frankly I quite like the place, and, after eBay, it's my first port of call for the all kinds of everything which I may need to purchase.

It turns out that both my purchases were free, more or less, on account of my having somehow accrued seventeen million Nectar points, or something like that. Which is better still. So, having humped a surprisingly heavy shredder and an even heavier chair back home, it was time for the turnaround to begin.

It turns out that the new expensive shredder is also a delicate soul and that I should not be thinking of doing more than one minute's shredding out of every 10. This is a little inconvenient at first, when you have lots of shredding to do, but I'm sure things will be fine once the backlog is cleared. Even though it has a large bin, and shreds into confetti rather than those soppy ruler-sized strips as found on cheaper shredders, I still find that the bin fills up annoyingly quickly. But no matter. I am shredding. Slowly, but surely, I am tidying up. Order is coming from chaos. I feel as if I'm doing something.

Meanwhile, the office chair is of course flat-packed, and some assembly was required. I never fail to be impressed at the ingenuity of how easy these things turn out to be, and tonight I was not disappointed. While there was a little huffing and puffing, and some confusion as to which way around the seat was suposed to point, I am pleased to report that I am now seated in my executive management leather super-swivellomatic chair. A snip at just £24.99, or 5000 Nectar points. Donald Trump himself could not have found a better bargain. My back is supported, and I am no longer sinking to the ground. It is gorgeous and I love it dearly. I would swivel and casually shred a few documents but I had to unplug the shredder to plug in something else earlier. Nonetheless, I expect that there will be significant concurrent shredding and swivelling occuring in the near future.

Unfortunately, as with all things, there were also casualties. My left hand (which I stopped using, briefly, several months ago) caused an ouchie earlier while I was trying to assemble the chair and get it up the stairs. I'm fairly sure I'm going to have to get it looked at eventually.

In other news, this afternoon I have sold several more items on eBay, so The King of Postage will probably be busy with labels and stamps and jiffy bags tomorrow. I'm not sure that this activity will create a significant amount of space, but again, it makes me feel as if I am doing something.

The grand tidy-up continues, although it has been slowed down slightly by the uncovering of many large boxes of videotapes, which of course must be viewed and checked before they can be tidied towards their logical destination. I am finding many tapes which have nothing of any interest on them at all, which is excellent, because I am building up a big box of blanks that can be used again. On the minus side, I don't really use videotapes any more and nobody seems at all interested in buying old ones on eBay. I may have to give them away. They take up toomuch room for me to keep them for the many thousands of years that would be required for them to be 'rare' again.

I have about 25 more items about to end on eBay. Someone is bidding more than £10 for an old magazine. It is indeed a pleasant surprise to find that something just taking up space was, in fact, truly "rare". And someone even wants one of the Betamax tapes as well. What an evening it is.

So as I sit here with my chocolate milkshake, I can't help but feel that while I have done much, I have also, simultaneously, done little. I hope to continue the cleanup next week, if work doesn't keep me too busy. We'll see.

The Industrious Ant

It's been quite a busy day. My grand clear-up continues, and although progress is slow, I'd like to think that I'm getting somewhere. Of course that "getting somewhere" currently means that there are so many cardboard boxes and other items of junk spread all over my bed, that I am having to sleep downstairs on the sofa. But this is no more than I deserve, and I'm sure that the more tired I get of this (literally), the more it will speed up the clear-up.

Today is a good day for clearing up, because it's 10p listings day on eBay. I was never someone to pass up a discount, and yesterday night I totally went for it, taking photos and typing out auction descriptions until well into the early hours of the morning. This evening I've been doing much the same thing. In total, today I have placed 55 new items onto eBay. Now some of them are probably unspeakable junk (fairly sure those Betamax tapes won't go) but, as they say, one man's trash is another man's treasure, and I've been surprised before by obscure things reaching high prices.

But it's not about the money. I just want the space. Putting all the items on eBay first is just to get over the fact that I can't throw things away. Selling them is different. :-)

So, what else happened today? Well, I woke up, and it was cold! Yes, my fabulous new central heating gas boiler thingummydo had decided that something was wrong, and therefore it did not start at 6.30am, as I like it to. Investigation revealed that it was flashing the helpful information 'E02' on the front panel. Skilled as I am with electronics, I still had to check the manual to find out exactly what this meant. "Occurs after 40 seconds to protect the pump", it says. Which tells me nothing. Men with spanners are called, and in the meantime, I get back into bed to keep warm.

Later on, one man with no spanners at all arrives, and is not phased at all by E02. Flick, flick, press, all working now, Sir. I asked what this meant - apparently the water pressure was low, and when that happens, I must turn this knob, and then this knob, which will cause the laser meter display to increase. Before the point of inevitable detonation, I must then turn the knobs back to their original settings, in the reverse order. This restores the necessary 'pressure' to allow heating. So all is well.

What else happened today? Oh yes, interest rates went up to 5.25%. This is excellent news to thrifty people who save their pennies. I spoke to a friend on the phone who has a mortgage, he did not consider it to be good news at all. In fact it would cost him more money on his mortgage, which doesn't sound like a lot of fun. But I earn more interest on my savings, and that does sound like fun.

So, all in all, it has been an industrious day. And it's not over yet!

Wordcount

I really, really, need to write a book. Well, another one. The last book I wrote was kind of a false start. It doesn't really count unless I'm feeling a bit desperate and want to drop casual mention of "my last book" into a conversation. But no, it is time to write my first proper actual book, full of words, written by and about the wonder that is.. well.. me.

Part autobiography, part "What I think about everything"ography, I feel that the time is right to put my words into print (again) and be a proper published author.

Of course, as with many things these days, that's something that anyone can do. Just like blogs give 'the common man' the ability to write and be published (if not, necessarily, the right to be read by anyone else) so it is that the miracle of 'vanity publishing' allows any fool with enough words to print up some books and get themselves on Amazon.

And I think that's the road that I'm going to go down. It seems like the fastest way to get what I want, instead of spending years hawking a useless manuscript around publishers who won't want it. After all, I am nobody, and what I think about anything is of even less interest and significance. No, the only reason why someone would want to read my book is if they like how I write. I estimate this will guarantee me an audience of at least 1. (That would be me, then.)

I would hope that my book would be a little more than random collections of "things what I wrote" and miscellaneous recycled blog articles.. then again, some amount of that may be necessary to make my book a good size. I estimate that for your average six by niner, you're going to want something like 150 to 200 pages - I'm reckoning something like sixty to seventy-five thousand words will be required. I checked against some works of great literature. The Hound of the Baskervilles comes in at just over 59 thousand words, but perhaps Mr Conan Doyle wasn't really trying. I'd like to think that seventy-five is a good size to aim for.

Then again, "The Handy Cyclopedia of Things Worth Knowing" by Joseph Triemens manages just over 103,000 words (which is not bad going even for the year 1910,) and that is the same kind of discontiguous (yet handy) set of references and opinions that I'm sure anything I write will turn into. Incidentally, I'm particularly taken by "How To Care For A Piano", "Curious Facts About Hair", and "Things That Are Misnamed". This is absolutely a book that I could write.

"The New Handy Cyclopaedia of Things Worth Knowing" might therefore be an appropriate title, but it doesn't really say very much about me, and also runs the risk of marking out my fine literature as some kind of loose collection of facts and statistics, (or perhaps "rumours and careless opinions" as was said of the original Cyclopaedia) when I am actually going for more of an amazing chronicle of thought and insight and general Me-ness. Or perhaps "Me Me Me"-ness, since I always was a showoff.

The title "Diary of a Nobody" might be even more appropriate, but apparently this has also already been used by a certain Messrs. Grossmith back in 1892. It seems that I am 115 years too late on that score.

"Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen reminiscences of people I have never even heard of, and I fail to see -- because I do not happen to be a 'Somebody' -- why my diary should not be interesting."

How true that is. And Diary of a Nobody is only 42,276 words. I'm pretty sure I can write more than that. In fact, looking back over this blog, I'm pleased to note that I've already written over 25,000 words without actually trying. It's hard to say how many of those words will be fit for print. After all, crowd-pleasing blog entries such as "I got a wrong number today, how annoying", while clearly of vital importance online, may appear nothing other than ephemeral, and perhaps even pointless, in print. It is clear that some editing may be necessary.

I think "Because Everyone Loves Balloons" would be a nice title for my book. It should, of course, have a nice picture of me on the front cover. This may be hard to arrange, because it must be said that, on occasion, I am not flattered by the camera. We'll have to worry about that nearer to the date of publication. For now, I must get writing...

Multiple Personality Blogging

I have decided that I quite like blogging. Regular readers will of course already be aware that I invented blogging, oh yes, but even despite this, it's not something that I've done a whole lot of until fairly recently. Now, I feel at one with the art form, and I feel I should extend it into brave new territories.

I like blogging so much that I'd like to do it more often. But the problem is that it's too confining to write things that are, as they say, "good for all time zones". Things that I might feel comfortable saying to some people who know me, are things that maybe I shouldn't say to people who DON'T know me. And, perhaps, even better, imagine all the depraved and awful things I could say, safe in the knowledge that anyone reading DOESN'T know me, so they won't be shocked and apalled if it should happen that they DO know me.

So maybe I need more blogs. Imagine the possibilities..

Blog number 1 - this one, the original and best. Interesting and thoughtful, open and honest, a rollercoaster ride of fun and entertain mints, but hopefully without any content that is too apalling.

Blog number 2 - the 'Second Life' blog, where I can be boring and nerdy and talk about my life as a vampire bat to an audience of fellow bats who won't find that entirely strange, stupid, or weird.

Blog number 3 - the 'entertainment' blog for readers of my other website. Hopefully still interesting, but not too honest, because I don't want to show too much of myself to people who don't know me but know OF me.

Blog number 4 - the 'disgusting' blog where I show all of myself to people who DON'T know me OR know OF me. So finally I will be able to confess my garden gnome fetish to the world! .... Oops.

Blog number 5 - the 'ex directory' blog that nobody at all gets to see and is only for myself.

Blog number 6 - the 'technical' blog, where I can write long boring missives about the relative excellence of computer programming languages, technology, and the kind of stuff that will be OK for the readers of Blogs 1, 2 and 3 (but perhaps not 4) to read as well, but which only a few of them would be interested in, so it can live in its own little space by itself.

I wonder how much of this is a good idea - whether it will allow me to write more things about more topics, or whether I'll just be swapping one blog that doesn't update very often for six blogs that don't update very often. Maybe this is a dark and disturbing sign that there are too many different Me's inside my head. If so, I'll need Blog number 7 to chronicle my descent into madness...