I'm going to try to learn this.
It's Clap by Steve Howe and it's one of the hardest things in the acoustic guitar repertoire.
I should mention at this point that I'm a truly awful guitarist. I have difficulty with the most basic barre chords. This is why I've decided to take drastic action. No time shall be wasted learning easy songs and working up to the harder ones, while secretly thinking I'm the bee's knees because I can play Scarborough Fair without looking at the strings. No, to get my technique to the point where I can play Clap, I must play Clap.
I am aware of the Dunning-Kruger effect. (In a clamshell: rank beginners don't tend to realise just how rank their beginnerness is.) Though I recognise my own utter lack of ability, I may well be failing to recognise my lack of ability to improve my ability. Even while consciously taking this very possibility into account. That would be a sort of Hofstadter's corrolary to the Dunning-Kruger effect. Or maybe it wouldn't, but there's certainly an isomorphism in there somewhere.
My progress so far? You see the point seven seconds into the video where the chords start changing rapidly, the first two being a G shape and a C shape, both at the 7th fret (hence, barre chords)? Today, I've been practising moving my pinky finger quickly from the top string to the fifth string while keeping the barre in place and trying not to accidentally mute the top string with my great fleshy palm. The other two fingers of the C shape... I'll add those later.
I might add a Clap Progress Report onto the end of a few future posts. It probably won't take up too much extra space.
Saturday 26 February 2011
Wednesday 23 February 2011
Games
In response to Ralph Pocketwatch, this is a complete list of every single video game that I own:
Theme Hospital (1997)
Commandos: Behind Enemy Lines (1998)
Imperialism II: Age of Exploration (1999)
Caesar 3 (1999)
SimCity 3000 (1999)
The Sims (2000)
Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2 (2000)
Black and White (2001)
Sonic Mega Collection Plus (2002)
Lemmings Revolution (2004)
Singles (2004) - it's supposed to be like the Sims but with added sexytimes. Don't judge me.
Football Manager 2007 (2006) - fine, you can judge me now :-P
Out of the Park Baseball 8 (2007)
What can we tell from this? Apart from the fact that, since the majority of them were first released over a decade ago, I'm clearly not that into modern games, and since there are only 13 of them, all for PC, I'm clearly not that into video games in general. I seem to big on creating, simulating and preserving (Lemmings) rather than charging around and destroying. First person shooters? Not so much. The only game where you get to directly control the firing of a gun is Commandos, and it's considered a last resort when all your distractions and booby traps have failed. And it's third person. I'm much more at home sneaking some kind of “units” around a map, pointing them at an object and saying, hey unit, go interact with that object in some way. An extension of the general principle behind chess, you could say.
There are other games that I play when I'm at the family home. FIFA 10, Madden NFL 10, NHL 2K11 (National Hockey League - that's the icy, violent variety of hockey played in North America, not the grassy, violent variety played in the Home Counties) and Wii Baseball. Me and my brother are particular fans of NHL 2K11 at present. And there's Guitar Hero, of course.
So I'll edit my earlier statement: I'm clearly not that into modern single-player games. I suppose that recently, my reaction when I've felt the urge to kill some time by myself in an activity that won't reeeally contribute anything to either my skills or my understanding of the world, is that I should maybe go interact with my girlfriend instead. (Then again, I'm quite happy sitting and reading my Kindle for five hours and making no attempt to distract her from her studies, so maybe it is just the games themselves that don't appeal.)
But multi-player games, I enjoy a lot. Multi-player games based on competitive physical sport, even more so, because cheering for your own players and hurling abuse at your opponents adds to the social experience, which is what I really want from a video game. I've played NHL 2K11 by myself, but only in training mode, and only so that I would improve to the point where my brother wouldn't hand me my arse on a plate every single game. Guitar Hero I will admit to playing slightly more than was strictly necessary to sharpen my competitive skills. But as a result, my left hand is noticeably faster around a piano keyboard that it used to be, so I'll call that a win.
I like games I can play in little chunks, too. One song in Guitar Hero, or one hockey match - and then, crucially, not feel like I'm under any pressure to come back and "complete" something, like I would be if I'd beaten the first mission of an Allied campaign. I think this is how casual gaming is defined by the people who define such things.
And then there's chess. Chess ticks the multi-player box, the abstract strategy box, and the little-chunks box - in particular, 1-minute internet chess. 1-minute internet chess is the reason I didn't get to bed until 2am the other night when I had work in the morning. If you find yourself losing a game of 1-minute internet chess, don't worry, you'll be out of your misery in a maximum of 120 seconds and then you'll have a new game to focus on. It's the ultimate in (so-called) casual gaming. Having said that it ticks the multi-player box, 1-minute internet chess is honestly not that much of a social experience - the conversation usually extends to pulling emoticon-faces and occasionally getting cussed out by some punk.
But it's chess, and therefore automatically worthwhile. Unlike Ralph, I never grew out of my chess obsession. Being good at chess confers real-life brownie points in a way that being good at Football Manager doesn't. In fact in my brain, taking part in the chess subculture by running the Northumbria league and website is a seamless extension of taking part in it by pushing the pieces around. (Perhaps "chess subculture" is a future blog post.) I love chess to such an extent that I quite frequently hate it.
Other, similar board games that I've had the opportunity to become absorbed in, I mark down because they're not chess. The likes of draughts, Othello, Scrabble, mahjong, OSECA - losing at them is dead boring, but learning how to play them well would use the same parts of my brain as chess, and they're not chess, so in general I give them the swerve. Similarly, tabletop RPGs: the role-playing is fun, but I'm not turned on by either the mechanics or the fantasy settings and I don't want to spend the time becoming good enough at them to enjoy them more. That and the fact that they go on for freakin' ever.
So to summarise: suggest me a game that I can play with my brothers, is a simulation of something or involves creativity, can be put down after 10 minutes, and is the complete opposite of chess?
Theme Hospital (1997)
Commandos: Behind Enemy Lines (1998)
Imperialism II: Age of Exploration (1999)
Caesar 3 (1999)
SimCity 3000 (1999)
The Sims (2000)
Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2 (2000)
Black and White (2001)
Sonic Mega Collection Plus (2002)
Lemmings Revolution (2004)
Singles (2004) - it's supposed to be like the Sims but with added sexytimes. Don't judge me.
Football Manager 2007 (2006) - fine, you can judge me now :-P
Out of the Park Baseball 8 (2007)
What can we tell from this? Apart from the fact that, since the majority of them were first released over a decade ago, I'm clearly not that into modern games, and since there are only 13 of them, all for PC, I'm clearly not that into video games in general. I seem to big on creating, simulating and preserving (Lemmings) rather than charging around and destroying. First person shooters? Not so much. The only game where you get to directly control the firing of a gun is Commandos, and it's considered a last resort when all your distractions and booby traps have failed. And it's third person. I'm much more at home sneaking some kind of “units” around a map, pointing them at an object and saying, hey unit, go interact with that object in some way. An extension of the general principle behind chess, you could say.
There are other games that I play when I'm at the family home. FIFA 10, Madden NFL 10, NHL 2K11 (National Hockey League - that's the icy, violent variety of hockey played in North America, not the grassy, violent variety played in the Home Counties) and Wii Baseball. Me and my brother are particular fans of NHL 2K11 at present. And there's Guitar Hero, of course.
So I'll edit my earlier statement: I'm clearly not that into modern single-player games. I suppose that recently, my reaction when I've felt the urge to kill some time by myself in an activity that won't reeeally contribute anything to either my skills or my understanding of the world, is that I should maybe go interact with my girlfriend instead. (Then again, I'm quite happy sitting and reading my Kindle for five hours and making no attempt to distract her from her studies, so maybe it is just the games themselves that don't appeal.)
But multi-player games, I enjoy a lot. Multi-player games based on competitive physical sport, even more so, because cheering for your own players and hurling abuse at your opponents adds to the social experience, which is what I really want from a video game. I've played NHL 2K11 by myself, but only in training mode, and only so that I would improve to the point where my brother wouldn't hand me my arse on a plate every single game. Guitar Hero I will admit to playing slightly more than was strictly necessary to sharpen my competitive skills. But as a result, my left hand is noticeably faster around a piano keyboard that it used to be, so I'll call that a win.
I like games I can play in little chunks, too. One song in Guitar Hero, or one hockey match - and then, crucially, not feel like I'm under any pressure to come back and "complete" something, like I would be if I'd beaten the first mission of an Allied campaign. I think this is how casual gaming is defined by the people who define such things.
And then there's chess. Chess ticks the multi-player box, the abstract strategy box, and the little-chunks box - in particular, 1-minute internet chess. 1-minute internet chess is the reason I didn't get to bed until 2am the other night when I had work in the morning. If you find yourself losing a game of 1-minute internet chess, don't worry, you'll be out of your misery in a maximum of 120 seconds and then you'll have a new game to focus on. It's the ultimate in (so-called) casual gaming. Having said that it ticks the multi-player box, 1-minute internet chess is honestly not that much of a social experience - the conversation usually extends to pulling emoticon-faces and occasionally getting cussed out by some punk.
But it's chess, and therefore automatically worthwhile. Unlike Ralph, I never grew out of my chess obsession. Being good at chess confers real-life brownie points in a way that being good at Football Manager doesn't. In fact in my brain, taking part in the chess subculture by running the Northumbria league and website is a seamless extension of taking part in it by pushing the pieces around. (Perhaps "chess subculture" is a future blog post.) I love chess to such an extent that I quite frequently hate it.
Other, similar board games that I've had the opportunity to become absorbed in, I mark down because they're not chess. The likes of draughts, Othello, Scrabble, mahjong, OSECA - losing at them is dead boring, but learning how to play them well would use the same parts of my brain as chess, and they're not chess, so in general I give them the swerve. Similarly, tabletop RPGs: the role-playing is fun, but I'm not turned on by either the mechanics or the fantasy settings and I don't want to spend the time becoming good enough at them to enjoy them more. That and the fact that they go on for freakin' ever.
So to summarise: suggest me a game that I can play with my brothers, is a simulation of something or involves creativity, can be put down after 10 minutes, and is the complete opposite of chess?
Friday 18 February 2011
Nerves?
I thought I'd comment on this, which was followed by this.
For the link-phobic: Grammy reporter Selene Branson garbles broadcast in bizarre fashion, appears to be inventing words, goes on Twitter later to claim it was "just the nerves". Without paying any heed to the battalions of blogonauts who've already diagnosed her with a medical dictionary's worth of complaints, how can I tell there's more to it than that?
OK, so for the first couple seconds, everything looks natural. Hearing herself mispronounce "heavy" takes her by surprise, and she corrects it. So far so good. Look at her reaction to "burtation". She doesn't realise that it's not a word. It's not until "daris... darison" that she thinks holy crap I can't control what I'm saying. That's when the momentary look of panic crosses her face, and her broadcasting training takes over and tells her: Bail Out.
"Let's go..." is automatic. Muscle memory controlling tongue muscles. But then... where are we going? Brain input required. She knows who we're going over to, because she doesn't hesitate, and she doesn't "uh". Instead she states it clearly and confidently, and using completely the wrong syllables.
Public speakers throughout history have been making nervous screw-ups, recognising them as such and apologising. I went on stage that time at the Ryton festival knowing exactly what I was going to say, and as soon as I opened my mouth my mind was blank. I was nervous. I was suddenly hyper-conscious of every possible way to get it wrong. The absolute last thing I was going to do was string pseudo-random phonemes together in the hope that they'd form words. (I bailed out.) My lack of experience in public speaking, perhaps? OK, take Miss Teen USA South Carolina. Now that's what it sounds like when someone is just talking until they think of something to say. And there's not a burtation in sight. Nerves make you sound... nervous. They don't detract from your ability to tell whether what you've said isn't what you meant; they enhance it.
Serene Branson wasn't nervous. She just lost the ability to tell whether what she was saying was what she was trying to say. It's a neurological thing called aphasia.
And I can sympathise, as a fellow sufferer. In my case, it's never affected my speech. But have you seen thsoe tsets on the inrtneet wrehe tehy jmulbe up the mldide lterets of all the wdros, and you can still read it because your brain recognises the word as a whole? When I get my classic migraines, I can't do that. (Not even with words spelt correctly.) I have to look at each letter in turn, like a four-year-old learning to read, and think what sound it makes, and try and hold all the sounds in my short term memory while I form them into a word. It's a nightmare - by any normal standard, I've lost the ability to read. I'm suffering from a particular manifestion of aphasia called alexia.
(You may consider this as proof that synthetic phonics is a packet of bollocks: I couldn't possibly comment...)
Inhabitants of the internet accusing Ms Branson of being drunk: Please shush.
Ms Branson: I recognised the look in your eyes when you realised you were fighting against your own brain. Please listen to your physician.
For the link-phobic: Grammy reporter Selene Branson garbles broadcast in bizarre fashion, appears to be inventing words, goes on Twitter later to claim it was "just the nerves". Without paying any heed to the battalions of blogonauts who've already diagnosed her with a medical dictionary's worth of complaints, how can I tell there's more to it than that?
OK, so for the first couple seconds, everything looks natural. Hearing herself mispronounce "heavy" takes her by surprise, and she corrects it. So far so good. Look at her reaction to "burtation". She doesn't realise that it's not a word. It's not until "daris... darison" that she thinks holy crap I can't control what I'm saying. That's when the momentary look of panic crosses her face, and her broadcasting training takes over and tells her: Bail Out.
"Let's go..." is automatic. Muscle memory controlling tongue muscles. But then... where are we going? Brain input required. She knows who we're going over to, because she doesn't hesitate, and she doesn't "uh". Instead she states it clearly and confidently, and using completely the wrong syllables.
Public speakers throughout history have been making nervous screw-ups, recognising them as such and apologising. I went on stage that time at the Ryton festival knowing exactly what I was going to say, and as soon as I opened my mouth my mind was blank. I was nervous. I was suddenly hyper-conscious of every possible way to get it wrong. The absolute last thing I was going to do was string pseudo-random phonemes together in the hope that they'd form words. (I bailed out.) My lack of experience in public speaking, perhaps? OK, take Miss Teen USA South Carolina. Now that's what it sounds like when someone is just talking until they think of something to say. And there's not a burtation in sight. Nerves make you sound... nervous. They don't detract from your ability to tell whether what you've said isn't what you meant; they enhance it.
Serene Branson wasn't nervous. She just lost the ability to tell whether what she was saying was what she was trying to say. It's a neurological thing called aphasia.
And I can sympathise, as a fellow sufferer. In my case, it's never affected my speech. But have you seen thsoe tsets on the inrtneet wrehe tehy jmulbe up the mldide lterets of all the wdros, and you can still read it because your brain recognises the word as a whole? When I get my classic migraines, I can't do that. (Not even with words spelt correctly.) I have to look at each letter in turn, like a four-year-old learning to read, and think what sound it makes, and try and hold all the sounds in my short term memory while I form them into a word. It's a nightmare - by any normal standard, I've lost the ability to read. I'm suffering from a particular manifestion of aphasia called alexia.
(You may consider this as proof that synthetic phonics is a packet of bollocks: I couldn't possibly comment...)
Inhabitants of the internet accusing Ms Branson of being drunk: Please shush.
Ms Branson: I recognised the look in your eyes when you realised you were fighting against your own brain. Please listen to your physician.
Saturday 12 February 2011
Blog!
I told Laurelinde that I wouldn't be starting a personal blog, so I had to start a personal blog, and I told Ralph Pocketwatch that Wordpress >> Blogspot, so I had to start it on Blogspot, otherwise I would be predictable, and that's worse than being the Beatles.
I don't intend to feel guilty about not updating this thing, so please expect one new post every six years, and consider anything over and above that a special bonus just for you.
Yes, this post counts towards that schedule.
I don't intend to feel guilty about not updating this thing, so please expect one new post every six years, and consider anything over and above that a special bonus just for you.
Yes, this post counts towards that schedule.
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