Saturday, January 11, 2014
Deagle's Law
If it is true that everyone has a twin somewhere in the world, then it follows that everyone also has a mother with some explaining to do.
Friday, August 30, 2013
A Tangled Web
Imagine you have been talked into a "free" breakfast in some dreary banquet room at a seedy hotel on the outskirts of town. While the meal is in progress, you are told, there will be a sales presentation for an exciting new real estate development.
On the day, you struggle to eat a plate of undercooked scrambled eggs while a cadre of salesmen are screaming in your face and twisting your free arm behind your back. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, the event organizers are going through your wallet or purse and copying any personal information found therein. At this point you realize you've made a mistake by coming here, and that you just want to finish the meal, wipe any stray flecks of salesman spit from your face, and go home.
The above scenario describes pretty much how the World Wide Web feels to me these days.
Yes, there are certain web sites that I find useful or entertaining, and I do rely on the web for a certain amount of research. However,the "online experience", as we have come to know it, is one where we are expected to simply marvel at all that shiny stuff with dilated pupils in exchange for being force-fed advertising while also being tracked, monitored and catalogued for the benefit of a system proving itself unworthy of our trust.
Despite a few islands of sanity - places existing for the sincere purpose of educating and enlightening - the web mostly exists for the sake of selling. Although it may not always be high-pressure like the scenario described above, it is persistent and invasive in ways the user cannot immediately detect. Thankfully, many people are starting to realize that if you aren't paying for a product, then you are the product. Nothing is ever free.
Besides, there's only so many scrambled eggs you can eat before losing your appetite.
On the day, you struggle to eat a plate of undercooked scrambled eggs while a cadre of salesmen are screaming in your face and twisting your free arm behind your back. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, the event organizers are going through your wallet or purse and copying any personal information found therein. At this point you realize you've made a mistake by coming here, and that you just want to finish the meal, wipe any stray flecks of salesman spit from your face, and go home.
The above scenario describes pretty much how the World Wide Web feels to me these days.
Yes, there are certain web sites that I find useful or entertaining, and I do rely on the web for a certain amount of research. However,the "online experience", as we have come to know it, is one where we are expected to simply marvel at all that shiny stuff with dilated pupils in exchange for being force-fed advertising while also being tracked, monitored and catalogued for the benefit of a system proving itself unworthy of our trust.
Despite a few islands of sanity - places existing for the sincere purpose of educating and enlightening - the web mostly exists for the sake of selling. Although it may not always be high-pressure like the scenario described above, it is persistent and invasive in ways the user cannot immediately detect. Thankfully, many people are starting to realize that if you aren't paying for a product, then you are the product. Nothing is ever free.
Besides, there's only so many scrambled eggs you can eat before losing your appetite.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Phil Conway and local community spirit: a former This Week reporter looks back
(This letter to the editor was published in the August 22, 2012 edition of Barry's Bay This Week.)
Dear Editor,
It was with sadness as well as fond remembrance that I recently heard of Phil Conway’s passing. I worked for him as a reporter back in 1993, when he was publisher of this newspaper, and remember his cheerful and forgiving nature as if it were only yesterday.
Beyond representing his hometown as a local municipal councillor, he was also a staunch representative of the Madawaska Valley’s community spirit, a spirit that I view as being defined by a strong sense of hospitality. (When I refer to ‘hospitality’, I mean it in this case as an innate virtue – something that is practised without forethought because it is simply the natural thing to do.)
Thinking about Phil, as well as Barney McCaffrey, who also passed away earlier this year, got me to reflecting on my time in your community, where I was frequently the recipient of the above-noted hospitality. A few quick examples come to mind:
-My impromptu tennis lesson with then-Deputy Reeve, the late Eric Huestis. Concerned that I was wearing loafers on the court, he told me I’d perform better with more appropriate footwear, and insisted I drive all the way back to my trailer near Combermere to retrieve my running shoes, and then come back to resume the lesson. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll still be here.” Sure enough, he was.
-A particular venture to someone’s house to snap a picture – while I have long since forgotten who it was or the reason for the picture, I do remember that they wouldn’t let me leave without first sitting down for beer and pickled eggs in the backyard.
-At another backyard photo shoot, this time a small family reunion and cookout in the middle of the afternoon, the host got wind that it was my last assignment for the day. Someone handed me a plate and, before I knew it, it was late at night and I was still there, locked into a marathon of food and conversation, almost forgetting that this family reunion wasn’t my own.
All of the above occurred just within my first few days on the job, and came to represent typical encounters in my travels. As time went on, I would of course meet, write about and photograph many more of the characters that make up your community. And being a music guy, I also have particularly fond memories of the Tuesday night they let me play the drums (badly) at the Wilno Tavern’s weekly blues jam.
Then there was Phil himself – larger than life, constantly enthusiastic, and always with a beaming smile on his face. Whenever he had a joke to tell, you could see that boyish twinkle of benign mischief that seemed to be his signature. Conversely, whenever he had to impart criticism or corrective advice, he always did so in a way that respected the dignity and humanity of the person on the receiving end. (Being a greenhorn, I was that person on more than one occasion.)
The last time I saw him was in the winter of 1995, when I breezed through town and stopped into the office to say hello. He and his wife, Helen, greeted me with the same level of warmth and good cheer as they did on my first day on the job. Similar to my experience with the folks at that cookout, it felt like I was visiting my aunt and uncle rather than my former employers. It is truly a regret that I allowed myself to drift out of contact with them after that.
I will always be grateful to Phil and Helen for giving me the opportunity to serve (and get to know) their community as a young reporter just fresh out of college. Although I may not have realized it then, I was having the time of my life.
James Deagle
Ottawa, ON
Dear Editor,
It was with sadness as well as fond remembrance that I recently heard of Phil Conway’s passing. I worked for him as a reporter back in 1993, when he was publisher of this newspaper, and remember his cheerful and forgiving nature as if it were only yesterday.
Beyond representing his hometown as a local municipal councillor, he was also a staunch representative of the Madawaska Valley’s community spirit, a spirit that I view as being defined by a strong sense of hospitality. (When I refer to ‘hospitality’, I mean it in this case as an innate virtue – something that is practised without forethought because it is simply the natural thing to do.)
Thinking about Phil, as well as Barney McCaffrey, who also passed away earlier this year, got me to reflecting on my time in your community, where I was frequently the recipient of the above-noted hospitality. A few quick examples come to mind:
-My impromptu tennis lesson with then-Deputy Reeve, the late Eric Huestis. Concerned that I was wearing loafers on the court, he told me I’d perform better with more appropriate footwear, and insisted I drive all the way back to my trailer near Combermere to retrieve my running shoes, and then come back to resume the lesson. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll still be here.” Sure enough, he was.
-A particular venture to someone’s house to snap a picture – while I have long since forgotten who it was or the reason for the picture, I do remember that they wouldn’t let me leave without first sitting down for beer and pickled eggs in the backyard.
-At another backyard photo shoot, this time a small family reunion and cookout in the middle of the afternoon, the host got wind that it was my last assignment for the day. Someone handed me a plate and, before I knew it, it was late at night and I was still there, locked into a marathon of food and conversation, almost forgetting that this family reunion wasn’t my own.
All of the above occurred just within my first few days on the job, and came to represent typical encounters in my travels. As time went on, I would of course meet, write about and photograph many more of the characters that make up your community. And being a music guy, I also have particularly fond memories of the Tuesday night they let me play the drums (badly) at the Wilno Tavern’s weekly blues jam.
Then there was Phil himself – larger than life, constantly enthusiastic, and always with a beaming smile on his face. Whenever he had a joke to tell, you could see that boyish twinkle of benign mischief that seemed to be his signature. Conversely, whenever he had to impart criticism or corrective advice, he always did so in a way that respected the dignity and humanity of the person on the receiving end. (Being a greenhorn, I was that person on more than one occasion.)
The last time I saw him was in the winter of 1995, when I breezed through town and stopped into the office to say hello. He and his wife, Helen, greeted me with the same level of warmth and good cheer as they did on my first day on the job. Similar to my experience with the folks at that cookout, it felt like I was visiting my aunt and uncle rather than my former employers. It is truly a regret that I allowed myself to drift out of contact with them after that.
I will always be grateful to Phil and Helen for giving me the opportunity to serve (and get to know) their community as a young reporter just fresh out of college. Although I may not have realized it then, I was having the time of my life.
James Deagle
Ottawa, ON
Monday, October 1, 2012
Alphabetical Tabloid (Front Page)
For bpNichol
across ALL AMERCIA & AND and Angels ARMAGEDDON arthritis BIG BLESS BUCKS CASH COME COMING COUPONS evil FINAL FREE GIVEAWAYS! GOD Good herald hordes he's INSIDE INSTANTLY JACKO KILLS LIVES Magic making millions MIRACLE MUCH MUCH of over PAIN predict: PROPHECIES psychics Second seers spice still Top triumphs TRUE!
TRUE! triumphs Top still spice seers Second psychics PROPHECIES predict: PAIN over of MUCH MUCH MIRACLE millions making Magic LIVES KILLS JACKO INSTANTLY INSIDE he's hordes herald Good GOD GIVEAWAYS! FREE FINAL evil COUPONS COMING COME CASH BUCKS BLESS BIG arthritis ARMAGEDDON Angels and AND & AMERICA ALL across
across ALL AMERCIA & AND and Angels ARMAGEDDON arthritis BIG BLESS BUCKS CASH COME COMING COUPONS evil FINAL FREE GIVEAWAYS! GOD Good herald hordes he's INSIDE INSTANTLY JACKO KILLS LIVES Magic making millions MIRACLE MUCH MUCH of over PAIN predict: PROPHECIES psychics Second seers spice still Top triumphs TRUE!
TRUE! triumphs Top still spice seers Second psychics PROPHECIES predict: PAIN over of MUCH MUCH MIRACLE millions making Magic LIVES KILLS JACKO INSTANTLY INSIDE he's hordes herald Good GOD GIVEAWAYS! FREE FINAL evil COUPONS COMING COME CASH BUCKS BLESS BIG arthritis ARMAGEDDON Angels and AND & AMERICA ALL across
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Yes, this blog is sleeping...
Just a quick note to say that this blog is in "sleep mode" for now due to some things I'm working on offline. When these things come to fruition I'll give this blog a reboot to bring it into line with my efforts out there in meatspace.
Stay tuned.
Stay tuned.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Letter to the Editor (USA Today)
From: James Deagle
Subject: Letter to the Editor
To: letters@usatoday.com
Received: Sunday, January 1, 2012, 10:13 AM
Dear Editor:
Just today I was reading Anick Jesdanun's article on your website (How to get your Facebook in order), and wanted to leave a comment advising people about the pitfalls of Facebook, and why they'd be better off simply deactivating their account. You can imagine my dismay when I finished rattling off a quick paragraph's worth of my two cents and realized that the only way to leave a comment is to log in through a Facebook profile.
I find it troubling that you limit your online conversation to Facebook members, as there are plenty of us out there who have either not signed up or have deactivated our accounts on a matter of serious principle due to ongoing (and unresolved) privacy concerns. Additionally, many of us refuse to provide a map of our social life and consumer preferences to an organization that has yet to prove itself a trustworthy guardian of that information.
By allowing your online conversation to be 'branded' by Facebook, can we as readers trust that USA Today will also provide objective news coverage of Facebook when privacy, copyright and other legal issues arise, and perhaps even dare to publish editorials critical of it when warranted? By allowing Facebook to own and control your online forums, you allow a shadow of doubt to be cast over said objectivity, and as such I am less inclined to count myself among your readership.
James Deagle
Ottawa,Canada
Subject: Letter to the Editor
To: letters@usatoday.com
Received: Sunday, January 1, 2012, 10:13 AM
Dear Editor:
Just today I was reading Anick Jesdanun's article on your website (How to get your Facebook in order), and wanted to leave a comment advising people about the pitfalls of Facebook, and why they'd be better off simply deactivating their account. You can imagine my dismay when I finished rattling off a quick paragraph's worth of my two cents and realized that the only way to leave a comment is to log in through a Facebook profile.
I find it troubling that you limit your online conversation to Facebook members, as there are plenty of us out there who have either not signed up or have deactivated our accounts on a matter of serious principle due to ongoing (and unresolved) privacy concerns. Additionally, many of us refuse to provide a map of our social life and consumer preferences to an organization that has yet to prove itself a trustworthy guardian of that information.
By allowing your online conversation to be 'branded' by Facebook, can we as readers trust that USA Today will also provide objective news coverage of Facebook when privacy, copyright and other legal issues arise, and perhaps even dare to publish editorials critical of it when warranted? By allowing Facebook to own and control your online forums, you allow a shadow of doubt to be cast over said objectivity, and as such I am less inclined to count myself among your readership.
James Deagle
Ottawa,Canada
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Breaking the seal
This post constitutes a desperate effort to end a two-month literary drought. If I just start typing, perhaps something akin to writing may emerge, despite the objections of my inner Truman Capote.
It's not that I've had nothing to say, and it isn't that I haven't been bursting with the urge and intent to write...no, the problem has been at the bio-chemical level. The act of writing for me has usually been an act of capturing, harnessing and transcribing into words my mind's equivalent of fleeting musical notes -- all I've had to work with these days, however, is my mind's equivalent of a steady dial tone. O distant uncooperative muse...
There are times, however, when the only way to break the seal is to smash the bottle. This is one of those times.
Don't take the above as griping, however. The reason for my recent inability to focus on writing is that my energies and emotions have been drastically redirected due to the recent birth of my son. Those who already have kids need no further explanation, and for those without kids...there is no amount of explaining that can do the experience justice. With blogging being a solipsistic activity to begin with, I can only convey my own perspective on being a new dad.
For starters, it is like nothing I ever could have imagined. Being there with my wife through labor and delivery, going respectively from a sense of fear and helplessness to a sudden mind-shattering endorphin spike, and losing my heart to this new little person at first sight, represented a cataclysmic shift in my internal universe. I'm still the same ol' me, just an upgraded, massively sleep-deprived, and less trivial version. (Retro geeks can download an iso CD image of the previous me via a torrent at www.thepiratebay.org.)
So there you have it. A blog post from this keyboard after weeks of the author fearing it would never happen, hopefully followed by more of a less navel-gazing nature. Watch your step...those shards of glass can hurt.
______
Acknowledgement
This post did not occur in a vacuum. I had no idea of what to write about until after talking on the phone to Peter, comparing notes about writing as well as new fatherhood. Some of the material above came about verbally during the give-and-take of that conversation. Additionally, communing with a kindred literary spirit in of itself is always good for stimulating the writing gland.
It's not that I've had nothing to say, and it isn't that I haven't been bursting with the urge and intent to write...no, the problem has been at the bio-chemical level. The act of writing for me has usually been an act of capturing, harnessing and transcribing into words my mind's equivalent of fleeting musical notes -- all I've had to work with these days, however, is my mind's equivalent of a steady dial tone. O distant uncooperative muse...
There are times, however, when the only way to break the seal is to smash the bottle. This is one of those times.
Don't take the above as griping, however. The reason for my recent inability to focus on writing is that my energies and emotions have been drastically redirected due to the recent birth of my son. Those who already have kids need no further explanation, and for those without kids...there is no amount of explaining that can do the experience justice. With blogging being a solipsistic activity to begin with, I can only convey my own perspective on being a new dad.
For starters, it is like nothing I ever could have imagined. Being there with my wife through labor and delivery, going respectively from a sense of fear and helplessness to a sudden mind-shattering endorphin spike, and losing my heart to this new little person at first sight, represented a cataclysmic shift in my internal universe. I'm still the same ol' me, just an upgraded, massively sleep-deprived, and less trivial version. (Retro geeks can download an iso CD image of the previous me via a torrent at www.thepiratebay.org.)
So there you have it. A blog post from this keyboard after weeks of the author fearing it would never happen, hopefully followed by more of a less navel-gazing nature. Watch your step...those shards of glass can hurt.
______
Acknowledgement
This post did not occur in a vacuum. I had no idea of what to write about until after talking on the phone to Peter, comparing notes about writing as well as new fatherhood. Some of the material above came about verbally during the give-and-take of that conversation. Additionally, communing with a kindred literary spirit in of itself is always good for stimulating the writing gland.
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