Image via adihrespati's flickr
Reading
Googled: The End of the World As We Know It by Ken Auletta
The end of the world as we know it? Is it? Really? If it is, I feel fine. Obligatory REM gag out of the way, I must stress that I’m not really buying the whole “Google/Facebook/Twitter has changed the world” schtick. Yes, they’ve changed some people’s lives, but there are still people who genuinely don’t give a crap. Take my Dad – his world is very much like it was pre-Google. He gets up, has a cup of tea, takes the dog for a walk, reads a book about sharks or Nazis, watches a documentary about sharks or Nazis, has another cup of tea, plays with the dog, reads the Screwfix catalogue…
…you get the picture. The only people for whom the world really has changed are Larry Page, Sergey Brin, Mark Zuckerberg and the dudes who invented Twitter whose names escape me. They are really bloody rich now and full of the smug satisfaction that comes with being told that you’ve “changed the world” on a daily basis. Bravo.
Everything “changes the world” now, just like every event is “historic” and every celebrity or handbag is “iconic”. I’m bored of it all. Here’s something that could change the world: perspective.
Rant over.
The subtitle is my only real beef with Auletta’s book; otherwise it is a really intriguing and inspiring story of how two nerds changed the internet (note: not “world”). His investigation is thorough and balanced, grilling Page, Brin and Eric Schmidt along with their rivals and former employees.
It is quite cute how utterly clueless, naïve and arrogant Page and Brin were when they first started out. They made rookie errors and had no idea how to monetise their wonderful creation. Maybe I’m buying into the myth of “cuddly” Google, but it is hard to see them as anything other than the good guys standing up to the mean old media order. Google sounds like a brilliant company to work for that truly values people and their skills.
It is a fine parable to illustrate that success can often arise from doing things differently and with a deep passion and purpose. Inspiring stuff.
Watching
American Horror Story
Anyone who knows me will know that I am a wuss. I can deal with blood and guts; it is the psychological headfudgery that gets me. A fine example being the time that I watched American Psycho and didn’t sleep for 48 hours straight.
It is a mystery to me why I love American Horror Story. Especially when considering I have to fast forward the opening credits EVERYTIME. By Bookish Brunette standards, this show is scary. Maybe it is the quirkiness of it all – it was created by the guys behind Glee so there are some brilliant moments of high-camp. It also looks spectacular – moments of dazzling colour followed by claustrophobic darkness and menace.
The premise is simple – a beautiful, yet dysfunctional, East Coast family move to start a new life in Los Angeles. They buy a beautiful gothic house, which turns out to hide dark secrets and a blood-soaked history. Ben Harmon (Dylan McDermott), the father, is a therapist with issues of his own (mainly of the “knocking up a pretty twenty-something behind his wife’s back” variety). He is a bit of a creep, creepier than some of the ghosts that share the house now that I think about it. McDermott is kind of hot and brooding in the style of David Duchovny, which is always a good thing, and he sure knows how to rock a black v-neck sweater. I digress…
Shortly after moving to the house, bizarre things start to happen. There are mysterious callers, overfriendly housekeepers and a kleptomaniac neighbour. They soon discover that their new home is commonly known as “the murder house”. Gradually, the house’s history unfolds and the thin veneer of normality shatters over the Harmons. The family begins to implode in a tale that is as much to do with sex and betrayal, as it is ghosts and ghouls.
My favourite character has to be Violet (Taissa Farmiga), the Harmon family’s teenage daughter. She’s a clever misfit who some how manages to keep a level head amidst the craziness. Fair enough, she is in a risky relationship with a ghost who wants to be Kurt Cobain. Hey, teenagers will do what teenagers do.
Listening to
Earthquake: Labrinth featuring Tinie Tempah
This song is so freakin’ catchy. I love the bit when Tinie says: “this one is feeling like a straight 10 on the Richter scale y’know”. Apparently, if he wants Christian or Kurt Geiger he just phones up the designer! Cuteness! Now, I might be being a tad pedantic here, is Tinie suggesting that Kurt Geiger is in the same league as Christian Louboutin? Or was he just really desperate for a rhyming word?
I really don’t know. All I know is that this song makes me want to dance.
UPDATE:
Cheers to my buddy Omar for sending me a link to this. LOVE Labrinth’s shirt and the choir:
BBxx
I’m just like you: I can’t stand seeing blood, not in doctors’ shows (those are okay) but in movies with violence. It just makes me feel terrible. But this show does sound intriguing.