go back now: http://rene.wallrodt.ch/
nach fast drei jahren schreibpause (mit ausnahme der kurzen reiseberichterstattung im herbst (siehe weiter unten)) will ich diesen blog nun wiederbeleben. momentan passieren so einige dinge in meinem leben, die ich in einer etwas längeren form als auf twitter (@3ardrumm3r) für die “ewigkeit” des internets festhalten möchte. kurzum: ich hab mal wieder das gefühl, mich mitteilen zu müssen; auch wenn es niemand lesen wird. ihr dürft mich allerdings gern eines besseren belehren.
folgende themen werden hier breitgetreten und mit meinem senf gewürzt: filme, tv-serien, comedy, der twitter-lesezirkel (#lesezirkel), mehr oder weniger politisches (sprich “the daily show with jon stewart”, “the colbert report” u.a.), meine (hoffentlich fruchtbare) jobsuche und dergleichen mehr.
in alter tradition wird sich das ganze je nach thema, gemütsverfassung und willkürlichen, spontanen sprachdefiziten meinerseits entweder auf englisch oder deutsch zutragen.
also dann: wohl bekomm’s.
Do not worry. You are still in the right place. I just finally changed the layout because the old red-and-black one has really been bugging me for a while now. Everything is still here. Even all the widgety widgets in the sidebar, which is just a bit longer now due to there only being one, instead of two.
This new theme, Ocadia, is much easier on the eyes both colorwise and arrangementwise, innit.
Who is it that’s reading my blog via iPhone? Just yesterday I had a visitor via a feed reader that only works on Apple’s “mobile device,” as they call it. Here’s the refferring link:
So who are you? Show yourself.
Somehow I’ve been on blog leave for almost seven months. Let’s not talk about it. I’ve just come to say that I’m back for the occasional dropping of my two cents about any old issue. Lots of things have happened in seven months and one or the other even stuck with me.
Coming up, ramblings about the ongoing writers strike in the U.S.
Just a brief quickie from me tonight, after another four weeks of hiatus. Talk about on and off…
A couple of days ago I joined Last.fm. This is a sort of social network that keeps track of all the music you listen to and sets up all kinds of statistics and then recommends new music to you according to your taste (unlike that bullshit on Amazon). But it’s not only another one of those spying tools that have been invading the internet. You can also listen to music; to all kinds of music, actually.
Every user has their own radio station which plays tracks that they listened to before. And you can tune in for free. The greater the variety and number of songs a user has listened to, the more songs will be on their station. Last.fm also lists gigs in your area, or gigs of your favorite artists, or whatever you want it to. Go check it out. It’s a lot of fun.
At the top of the right sidebar you can already see the music that I recently listened to, including links to my profile (with my charts) and to my radio station.
On another note, I’d like to say “Happy P-Day.” Thomas Pynchon turned 70 today and is as alive as ever. Or so we think. Hopefully he’ll live long enough to write at least one more of his big-ass tomes. He probably has about ten typewritten, proofread, and ready-to-be-published manuscripts—each at least 1,200 pages long—in the drawers of his desk that are just waiting to be published posthumously by some wacky editor. Unless his wife, Melanie Jackson, or son, Jackson, intervene.
Which makes me wonder why Pynchon had his first child only in his mid-fifties. He needed someone to handle his estate with the utmost discretion because he knew that the media, publishers, and scholars would go through his stuff before his dead body had cooled off. But he only realized that rather late. Pynchon is a slow learner himself.
On yet another note, let me express my discontent over the decision of the Swiss Federal Council to do away with price fixing on books with a simple: Fuck You! Pardon my French, but this says it all.
Dave Barry wrote a funny review in The New York Times Sunday Book Review about the trouble of writing letters nowadays. Read it and weep.