November 2003

  • Oh look, Taneli’s logo was on MTVE. It’s the one where it’s snowing.

Missing Sundays

I miss Sundays. Without a week behind you and a new week ahead, there’s no magic in them. I live in a perpetual state of summer holiday.

Ilya

Christmasmonth

So yesterday Helsinki opened its Christmas Street. I happened to be walking by, and I couldn’t resist the pull of the crowd. I didn’t stay long, though. I was hungover, and the crowd and the music of the military band were too much for me to stand.

Is this beginning of waiting for Christmas? December, in Finnish, is joulukuu which literally means “Christmas month.” But it’s not December yet, so there’s not even any calendar windows to open. I think Christmas calendars are what got me through December as a kid. That, and advent Sundays, which I remember best for the Hoosianna song we used to sing at school.

Ilya

Listalla kummittelee

Tuntuu aika uskomattomalta, että Suodatin pitää sijaa 165 Suomi-blogien Top-listalla. Tämä saitilta, jota ei ole päivitetty yli vuoteen. Itse asiassa koko Top-lista on syntynyt vasta Suodattimen “kuoleman” jälkeen.

Itse en muuten missään vaiheessa uskonut Suodattimen kuolemaan (“ei kulta, se vain nukkuu”). Kai se on kuitenkin uskottava, että tuonpuoleisesta ei ole nousemista.

Ilya



Friends, strangers, and Net people

Maybe because I’m not a photographer myself, the moblogs I’ve seen haven’t interested me much. But when it’s a friend’s moblog, and you know the people in the pictures, it’s a whole new story.

I don’t think it’s so easy to meet someone in real life that you only know through blogging. If there’s time and opportunity, you may become acquainted, maybe even friends. But it still takes time.

I’ve had people walk up to me and know who I am through a weblog. Hanging out with them always feels like a first date. There’s the attraction and the shared interests, but there’s also, of course, the awkwardness.

However, meeting someone familiar through a weblog is—hopefully—not the same as meeting an author of a book you’ve read. (The other day I was reading stuff on J.D. Salinger, an author famous for the way his readers felt like he was their friend.)

Last year, at some lecture, Ville and I were talking about blogs and web journals. We had noticed that if you see a friend many times a week, it’s better not to read their blog or web journal. Otherwise they’ll constantly be telling you things you’ve already read.

This was a positive discovery: it shows that what you write is what you’d share with your friends anyway. And that, I think, is a nice thing about blogs and public journals.

Postscript
Since Janne answered this entry (which was an answer to his) on the same day as his original post, and his weblog has only daily permalinks, I’ll just tack my reply here. It gets confusing, I know.

Janne’s friends have wondered about the varying “intrestingness” of the stuff he posts. Janne says it’s because he needs the space to write whatever he feels like. Otherwise writing becomes affected, constrained; a chore.

I couldn’t agree more. I think Janne got it head-on.

These are weblogs. We don’t have editors. We’re not being paid to write. Not everything’s going to be great, or super-interesting everyone, all the time. That’s what you get with weblogs. And that, I would say again, is a good thing about weblogs.

Ilya

A bulge

If it were rumored that President Bush had a less than healthy, manly libido, his press aids would for sure arrange a photo op featuring a certain well-placed bulge.

This thought helps me deal with the anger.

Ilya

Of smokers

Oh, and about cliques. The best thing about being “a smoker” is that it’s a very honest grouping. People are mellow, there’s no need to talk. Just inhale, exhale. Smoking doesn’t really define smokers (at least after they’re over 18), so there’s not much assumed identity to grapple with. There is no posturing or striving for coolness. There’s just the acknowledgement of having a regrettably nasty but thankfully shared habit.

This acknowledgement does have funny aspects to it, though. Try telling a fellow smoker that you’re planning on quitting. It freaks ’em out. You either get the disparaging “good luck with that,” or then you get a more prickly reaction in which the smoker is annoyed—usually without even noticing it—and starts acting kind of mean.

Ilya
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Beared souls

caught together