How Do E-Books Change the Reading Experience? – NYTimes.com


The advantages of e-books are clear. E-books are immediate. Sitting at home in Pakistan, I can read an intriguing review of a book, one not yet in stores here, and with the click of a button be reading that book in an instant. E-books are also incorporeal. While traveling, which I do frequently, I can bring along several volumes, weightless and indeed without volume, thereby enabling me to pack only a carry-on bag.

And yet the experience of reading e-books is not always satisfactory. Yes, it is possible to vary the size of the font, newly important to me at age 42, as I begin to perceive my eye muscles weakening. Yes, e-books can be read in the dark, self-illuminated, a reassuring feature when my wife is asleep and I am too lazy to leave our bed, or when electricity outages in Lahore have persisted for so long that our backup batteries are depleted. And yes, they offer more frequent indicators of progress, their click-forwards arriving at a rapidity that far exceeds that of paper-flipping, because pixelated screens tend to hold less data than printed pages and furthermore advance singly, not in two-sided pairs.

Nonetheless, often I prefer reading to e-reading. Or rather, given that the dominance of paper can no longer be assumed, p-reading to e-.

I think my reasons are related to the fact that I have disabled the browser on my mobile phone. I haven’t deleted it. Instead, I’ve used the restrictions feature in my phone’s operating system to hide the browser, requiring me to enter a code to expose and enable it. I can use the browser when I find it necessary to browse. But, for the most part, this setting serves as a reminder to question manufactured desires, to resist unless I have good cause.

Similarly, I have switched my email account from the attention- and battery-consuming “push” setting to the less frenzied manual one. Emails are fetched when I want them to be, which is not all that often. And the browser on my slender fruit-knife of a laptop now contains a readout that reminds (or is it warns?) me how much time I have spent online.

Time is our most precious currency. So it’s significant that we are being encouraged, wherever possible, to think of our attention not as expenditure but as consumption. This blurring of labor and entertainment forms the basis, for example, of the financial alchemy that conjures deca-billion-dollar valuations for social-networking companies.

I crave technology, connectivity. But I crave solitude too. As we enter the cyborg era, as we begin the physical shift to human-machine hybrid, there will be those who embrace this epochal change, happily swapping cranial space for built-in processors. There will be others who reject the new ways entirely, perhaps even waging holy war against them, with little chance — in the face of drones that operate autonomously while unconcerned shareholding populations post selfies and status updates — of success. And there will be people like me, with our powered exoskeletons left often in the closet, able to leap over buildings when the mood strikes us, but also prone to wandering naked and feeling the sand of a beach between our puny toes.

via How Do E-Books Change the Reading Experience? – NYTimes.com.

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Somebody’s watching me


We live in an overly cataloged and documented world. We are doing it to ourselves, of course, but it is true. I am attached via name and face to no less than two dozen sites, I have Facebook , LinkedIn , foursquare, twitter and Google+ to name a few. I do reviews and comments enough to earn a “top contributor” on the internet. I am online. I am locatable. I don’t mind that because my world and my goals in this world are a want for recognition. I am trying to build a brand for both my writing, my day job and myself.

Still and all that means that my image is attached to many things. As, probably, is yours.  That brings me to today’s topic. I recently upgraded to Microsoft Office 2013 and one of the fantastic little updates is that you can sign into sites right through to your outlook. I did because I love stupid little things like that, they know this, and the people that made that feature are tech geeks.

The thing about that is, I can see the Facebook attached to my candidate’s emails, when they come into my inbox. Which for the most part is fine, but that begs the question, “if your employer or potential employer saw your Facebook profile, would that cost you anything?” I hope that the answer is no. However, for some of you …

We have all seen the chick whose Facebook photo is her breasts or her behind. Unless you are in the sex industry that is not the image that you need to portray.  The person whose profile picture is his weed stash or some other unflattering image.  Do yourself a favor and take that down, right now! First, I do not care who you are, you are better than that, trust me. Second, if your name is something rude, crude or sexually explicit, take that down too. Same thing for your email address, while I have you here, if you are “sexytramp69@yahoo.com “for the love of GOD get a new email address. Potential employers will not be impressed at how “real” you keep it. Just think of this; if you are standing in a room full of family members, and you have to give your email address, your YouTube name or your Facebook handle, would you be embarrassed? If yes, change it. Does your employer need to know that you are “Dabaddezbitch”, “DatNiggaDarrall”, or even “Jackdaniels4lyfe”?

 

The bottom-line is this , treat your name and image like it is your product , because now a days it is just that.

Send in the Clowns


This song means a lot to me as I grow up and grow older . So many things  in my life , not just men but jobs, friends, thoughts, actions  , feel like they fall in this category . This why didn’t I realize at the time what I had .  Only to realize that the recapture of that thing , place , person or action is outside of your ability. You can not get the one that got away.

There are a lot of these for me , some because I truly didn’t see the merit on them and for those I can only sigh and move on but the ones that hurt are the ones that I missed out on because I was too  chickenshit it make a move . I am never proud of myself when I  miss out on something because  I decided to be a chickenshit . I would rather fail miserably  in trying than be in fear. I would like to try and fail beautifully.

In the spirit of that I have decided to sing today. You are free to listen or not to listen ( like you didn’t know that , right?) but understand that I am singing accapella and I did not do another take . I am a little pitchy at times I think but I am also woman enough today to sing one of my favorite songs to you and free of change .

http://youtu.be/TU8d7SBwswI

This year has not been easy and it is only May , but then again this year has not been easy and it is already May . I am not going to wallow in the many yesterdays, the could have beens , the should have beens. I am going to sing. and I am going to dance . I am going to move forward and laugh . Topple , roll , squeak my red nose and freak some people out . In short I am going to embrace the fact that I may be a clown. But after I go forward I will never let fear make me a clown again .

I love being a girl


Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon

Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I really do … I know , please , my feminist sisters don’t jump down my throat , yes I am a woman but I am sorry I love being a girl. Not a female. Not a woman. A girl. I love the feminine loveliness, the soft, the sweet. I love being a female , yes , but when I get ready  and have the makeup and the hair , cutsie poo and the sexy sensual beautiful things that I have and look in the mirror and I am truly feeling myself , I think , I love being a girl.

 

My proclamation is just that. I want to be allowed to be happy that I am a girl. I have a male friend that tries to throw lugs about women because of his own insecurities, about not having to do his hair, or not having to wear makeup. For the record, there are many men that are girls as well, and I am not just talking about being gay. Usher, the metro-sexual, and just your plain old pretty boys. And there are women that just don’t wear makeup and girlie clothes. SO… rude statement naturalized … but for those of us , like myself, who enjoy it , I also counter that I am not stuck with the woman I wake up to . I can sometimes suffer insomnia. When you go to sleep at 4 to wake up at 6, the women in the mirror at 6 looks like … how do I say this … death warmed over, twice.  When I walk out to people saying “you look rested”, ha-ha, I win!

 

I am a woman, smart, articulate, funny… umm…modest. I am also a girl, bubbly, and silly, unbearably cute …ummm…modest. Both are sides to me. They are parts that make me, me. They are the things that captivate those who know me into believing that the insecure pile of jello that I can be is this confidant grown up finally, and giving up my girl would not help, but hinder that.  If I had to stop having a crush on Tom Hardy, if I had to never go see another  Comic book movie alone ( yes I said alone ) , If I had to stop squealing when something made me really happy I would be diminished , my I would be smaller.

 

I think sometimes we are so quick to cast off out child self, not childish but child self, that we forget how to play, how to fun, how to dance like no one is watching, how to love a celebrity like we know them (not the crazy fanatic thing where we carve their names into our body, that is a sick child self and needs riddelin) just because they are awesome, and we lose the joy that was once inherent to our very nature. I realize that my girl and I are codependent as hell, we need each other. She lets me write and I let her scream for joy in the middle of the store  when she finds out Kelsey Grammar is playing Beast , my favorite X men character of all, in the middle of a store ( true story) .

 

I leave this long rambling prose with the following. Find your inner girl, or boy. I suggest Lego’s, they freaking LOVE Lego’s.