The Arrant Scoundrel

http://www.boring.com/

Too good to be true.

*weeps with laughter*

Too good to be true

*weeps with laughter*

Just picked up this link via Paul Miller's del.icio.us page. Started me thinking about intangible value - the favours, knowledge, prestige and whatever that goes to feed a network's operations. It's indispensable, but totally unquantifiable.

What it started me thinking about was a conversation with Paul and another Paul, of the company recently renamed Owikis. We were talking about business startups and sweat equity. Paul remarked that he's done masses of work for different enterprises for sweat equity, but didn't want to do that for ****owikis because there was no guarantee that anything would ever come of it.

So we've got people who work for free for a startup, in the faith that they'll be rewarded. Contrast this motivation with that of charity volunteers, church workers, well-wishers and the like, all of whom contribute to the intangible value of a civil society organisation. The former is a downpayment, the latter might be said to be 'paying it forward' (a forepayment?).

The mode of thought in which people do civil society work is subtly different to that in which people conduct business. This is a distinction largely ignored by NGOs (such as the one I'm about to leave) determined to apply 'customer service' models to their operations. Even if there is money involved, the motivation is different. That's why teachers put up with such rubbish pay - the emotional movement is outwards, toward the bigger picture, rather than inward, toward personal benefit. And again, there are times when the two are very difficult to distinguish. For instance, what of the people who've been helping Paul with ****owikis? Paul's remarked to me on several occasions how unique a challenge it is working with entirely voluntary and mostly anonymous collaborators.

A sweat equity model of contribution beyond the call of duty is simply not applicable to civil society organisations. But if not this model, then which one? Who is researching the drivers for idealism?

Paul's experiences in collaborations wiki-style sit right on the interface between economic benefit (individuals setting themselves up as wiki editors) and altruism, or people just doing things because they can. For example, "Uncle G" wrote the transwiki bot that started it all off, but won't answer Paul's emails. Would ther be any value in exploring how and why wiki collaborations working across the business/civil society interface work, and how this can be managed, as an avenue of exploration for alternative models for NGO operations to the cost/benefit business one? Or am I being fanciful?

I'm leaving the torpid safety of the QUANGO at the end of this month, and launching into the world of Web2.0 and startups at the beginning of next month. We've almost definitely got funding from the beginning of November. But it's still a gamble. I don't think I care. Ours is so plainly an idea whose time has come that I'm just excited.

Still. YIKES.

I'm freelancing for a huge great entertainment conglomerate. Me, sebastianmary who doesn't even watch telly, let along play computer games. What an odd thing for me to end up doing! But it's fun. Surprisingly good fun. I think I'd forgotten it could ever be possible to get paid to do something you're a) good at and b) enjoying.

So it feels like I'm sitting in bed arsing around and getting paid for it. Like there's something wrong with the setup. Or like I was back at uni researching and writing essays only instead of getting comments from a tutor at the end I send the result to my client and they send me money.

Perhaps I shouldn't say anything, in case they notice and stop letting me get away with it...

And that was a while ago. Since then I found a frame that wasn't my housemate's glorious old tourer. Sadly, she turned out to have a very good idea of what a vintage Trek with Campag parts was worth, boo hoo. Still, I now have a very handsome custom fix I built up all by my little self. And it's every bit as lovely as I'd hoped.

And then, amusingly, this cropped up in the Grauniad yesterday: http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1865665,00.html. So now they're 'the latest thing in urban cool', it seems.

I was rather pleased, to read that, as it suggests I haven't lost my trend-sniffing nose just yet. But perhaps I should be annoyed, as soon everyone will have one and the uniqueness of Titus will be swamped in a sea of sky-blue Pompinos and wobbly trackstands by fat middle-aged men. Sigh.

Still, just a tiny bit smug-making. Now all I need is a saddle that doesn't squeak...

I've been hunting for days across Ebay etc for a suitable bike to convert into a fixie (my latest obsession). And I think I've found it. The perfect size, light as a feather, '80s vintage Trek frame, horizontal dropouts and even dropout adjusters.

In my sodding basement.

But the catch is that it belongs to my housemate, and I think she's quite attached to it.

AAAAGH. What do I do? How much money will I have to offer her to let me restore and ride it?

Today I'm loving:

http://www.myspace.com/combichrist

and

http://www.mcluk.f2s.com/FAQs/#where

Goth noise and bike porn. Hurray!

Just please, someone, get me the hell out of this dead-end job before I slit my wrists. I mean it.

"gaze do that makes it
inappropriate to fix the
flat tyre on my nerves"

I did badass' haiku generator thing for this blog and got:

"a wa of thousands
and that almost makes you want
something to be"

Beautiful.

In the runup to my period I have about five horrible days where I feel like I've been peeled. Everything makes me flinch. And every time it happens I get the fear that it'll never go away, and I'll be like that for ever. If that happened, I think I'd be at the Prozac like a bulimic in Ben's Cookies.

But the odd thing yesterday was this. ( The odd thing )

It's happening again. To tell the truth
I'm chuffed to bits. I know I shouldn't be -
Too many questions still; but blame my youth
and hormones - mundane practicality
's a mute spectator to this dancing hip-
And pelvis-shake, this finely-muscled lust.
It hurt like hell to bury it. Now, drip
By drip, it's curling outward from the dust.
So, what to do? I know, I know. Fight tooth
And nail to keep it under wraps. Then see
If it gets out again. Act innocent.
Don't drink when she's around. (Thank God for Lent...)

This job's so boring I could slit a vein.
I haven't done a vilanelle for ages.
And whoopeedoo, it's Monday once again.

The trade-off for my reasonably pain-
free periods, is periodic rages.
This job's so boring I could slit a vein!

I spent all weekend trying to refrain
From going on emotional rampages
Now whoopeedoo, it's Monday once again;

I'll try and do some work. Against the grain.
But no amount of chocolate assuages
Jobs so boring, I could slit a vein -

Perhaps this mindset's something I could train
Myself to love, like Prozac and good wages
Cry 'Whoopeedoo! It's monday once again!'

But meanwhile looking round the morning train
I see us all, drones, in our little cages.
This job's so boring I could slit a vein.
And whoopeedoo, it's Monday once again.

What happened this weekend?

( Greeks )

( Other stuff )

My housemate just told me she's trying to book a butch cellist to play at Southopia on Sunday 26 March.

I went

*THUD*

What is it about women who play the cello? There's just something about it.

Then I remembered I had a crush on the girl who played the double bass in my youth orchestra aged 15...she had long delicate hands and wavy auburn hair and she was quiet and sweet but striking. She didn't carry the double bass around. I think she had to stand on a box to play it.

The School met again yesterday. ( This is what happened )

Last day. I'm getting lax here and there. But it doesn't seem to matter - it takes conscious effort to focus on an advert rather than on the walls, floors, people. Catching a glimpse now and then just seems less important. After all, it's not as if I'm trying to retain a state of mental purity or something.

I think my next project will be how to teach AAY. I think the most compelling reason for that is probably that I want to learn more about it.

I can't wait to hear the stories of the other people who've been practising AAY for the last week. It feels like a lovely bit of work has just happened, even though I can't see the edges of it right now, and I am looking forward to being able to feel my way through it.

The first Ambient Attention Yoga writeup can be found here.

Interesting conversations with a bloke who studies the mental architectures that perpetuate structures of enclosure and imperialism. ( This is what we talked about )

The first Ambient Attention Yoga writeup can be found here.

I got my hair cut. I no longer look like a newsreader. Instead, I look like this:

( Take a look )

And as if that wasn't happy-making enough, I also have the sexiest hairdresser in the world. And a fledgeling taste for obscenely expensive hair gunk.

Yay!

Only one Tube journey today, up to Kings X on the way to Sheffield. No problems at all apart from stressing that I'm going to miss my train.

I think it's only really a challenge when the Tubes are crowded - when there's such a crush of people there's more pressure to find a gaze point that isn't directly at someone. Why is that? Are we trying to avoid making others uncomfortable? Trying to avoid attracting attention ourselves? What does the gaze do that makes it inappropriate to fix it on a stranger for longer than a split second?

In any case there's no call for that at weekends, as there's plenty of floor and empty seating and book and unpostered glass to stare at. Only once or twice does my eye wander upwards (stretching its legs, as it were) and - with a feeling like a small electric shock - hit a poster. Bzzt!

The first Ambient Attention Yoga writeup can be found here.