I've been resilient to peer pressure. I contrast this when I see bloggers talking about how hard it was to become minimalist, and the many social aspects that come with it. For example, take a look at this mnmlist article. How many of those are external? Social? People created?
I'm not going to pretend that this blog isn't on the social fringe. It's common to make fun of GNU/Linux users as bearded, socially-inept, khaki wearing weirdos (and their OS as a tin can and string, decorated with wooden sticks), as easy as it is to want to criticize a minimalist for their life choices. I've heard both. But I don't seem to be affected by either.
I've lived with minimalism and Linux for so long that it's not even broadcast and yet it still gets communicated. I whip out my LG Flare, the dumbest dumbphone you can possibly imagine, and I wield it with nary a pause. I have gotten questions about it, but I explain that it costs me a grand total of $20 every three months and people understand. My use of the Mac has stifled my love for Linux to be openly communicated, but rest assured it's still there. (Finder does not have a merge function? What?!)
I've come to realize things about myself, the most important of which is that I'm naturally a person. My passions simply seep through the cracks and are communicated naturally. Either I'm respected for it or judged for it, and the latter just doesn't seem to matter. Yes, I have a terrible phone. Your pitying look does not phase me. I have no interest in upgrading to a phone that can do everything and more just because of the social ramifications. I'll upgrade when it's cheap enough and not as convoluted in endless contracts and options.
This is all internal, below conscious level stuff, which is why it's fascinating. I so quickly realize that my external self-expression is largely out of my hands. I dated a new friend and on the first date I popped in an orchestration arrangement of video game music without blinking an eye. In retrospect this may have been a little embarrassing, but at least it set her up to know what she was getting into.
Nothing about my personality is planned. I am not a meticulous craftsman. I'm just aiming for what makes me happy. I think this makes the difference. If you focus on making an outwardly focused persona, and it becomes judged, it's slightly your failure to not create your mask in the correct way. But being yourself is much more healthy, and it's not for the benefit of others. It's just what makes you and me happy to be.
Minimalist Books and Blogs
This is not a "I do it right" blog.
Why are most books on the topic of minimalism so content light?
For example, I picked up an interesting paperback titled "Affluenza" by Oliver James. The book has an interesting thesis, I'll give it that. But much of the book's main topics could have been expressed in a book about a sixteenth of the length.
What the book decides to fill itself with instead is endless examples that fulfill the author's specific point that he has made at the beginning of the chapter. They do not better communicate the initial concept. They repeat it. Additionally, the breadth and depth (not to mention the ever so gripping drama of many of them) makes you wonder how many of them actually exist, and why this book decided to defend its points through endless interviews as if it were personally trying to challenge the notion "the plural of 'anecdote' is not 'data'" through sheer determination.
This falls back to Dale Carnegie's old reliable, "How To Make Friends and Influence People," which follows the same formula. And it is continuously replicated. Barry Schwartz wrote "The Paradox of Choice," which manages to spin the two-word phrase "try moderation" into a much larger yet narrower treatise that, in my opinion, would have benefited from more broadness.
Maybe this is why I appreciate Zen Habits whenever I get around to reading Leo Babauta's works. I bought his book and I liked it. It was a book of ideas, not people. Many ideas.
I'm wary of minimalism blogs and books now because it's become commercial (which can be ironic to you, or not). Sometimes you can get helpful things from commercial blogs. But too often the content gets blotted out by the secrets tucked away behind a payment of $19.99, and that gets trotted out just a few too many times before the content starts losing its usefulness.
I do want ideas. I do want to be furthered in my minimalism explorations. But it's getting harder every day.
It's been two years since I started this blog.
Quick EDIT: I remembered another point. Want to figure out which blogs are going to try and sell you things? Install Ghostery. See how many advertisements are watching you. If it's over seven, I close the tab. If it's over ten, I run for my dear life. (Blogspot has one, and it runs the comments.)
Why are most books on the topic of minimalism so content light?
For example, I picked up an interesting paperback titled "Affluenza" by Oliver James. The book has an interesting thesis, I'll give it that. But much of the book's main topics could have been expressed in a book about a sixteenth of the length.
What the book decides to fill itself with instead is endless examples that fulfill the author's specific point that he has made at the beginning of the chapter. They do not better communicate the initial concept. They repeat it. Additionally, the breadth and depth (not to mention the ever so gripping drama of many of them) makes you wonder how many of them actually exist, and why this book decided to defend its points through endless interviews as if it were personally trying to challenge the notion "the plural of 'anecdote' is not 'data'" through sheer determination.
This falls back to Dale Carnegie's old reliable, "How To Make Friends and Influence People," which follows the same formula. And it is continuously replicated. Barry Schwartz wrote "The Paradox of Choice," which manages to spin the two-word phrase "try moderation" into a much larger yet narrower treatise that, in my opinion, would have benefited from more broadness.
Maybe this is why I appreciate Zen Habits whenever I get around to reading Leo Babauta's works. I bought his book and I liked it. It was a book of ideas, not people. Many ideas.
I'm wary of minimalism blogs and books now because it's become commercial (which can be ironic to you, or not). Sometimes you can get helpful things from commercial blogs. But too often the content gets blotted out by the secrets tucked away behind a payment of $19.99, and that gets trotted out just a few too many times before the content starts losing its usefulness.
I do want ideas. I do want to be furthered in my minimalism explorations. But it's getting harder every day.
It's been two years since I started this blog.
Quick EDIT: I remembered another point. Want to figure out which blogs are going to try and sell you things? Install Ghostery. See how many advertisements are watching you. If it's over seven, I close the tab. If it's over ten, I run for my dear life. (Blogspot has one, and it runs the comments.)
Becoming Digital
Points of note: comments are back on. I may blog about why some other day. Also, I spent some time re-editing many posts to include more points in smaller word counts, because my writing style is verbose.
I've discussed the pre-existing bias that comes with digital media. We inherently distrust digital items culturally, through increased complexity and less control over the product itself. This is shown through both consumer resistance as well as corporate resistance to such evolutions. This is perceived and is partially my perception of society and culture. Does reality actually reflect what we think?
This is in terms of my experience because I feel trying to generalize any thesis's from the topic would end poorly. When I talk about my own digital conversion, I'm discussing the lack of reliance on phsyical product versus digital distribution, not analog versus digital media playback.
Movies and TV Shows: I don't do much of this, but when I do (usually for things I'm nostalgic for) I just rip it from a DVD and give the disc away.
Music: I used to buy music from various MP3 stores online, but I have since converted to OGG and FLAC and now try to get either a CD or lossless audio for format shifting. The disc is typically stored or put with my books if I really, really like it. Sometimes I loan out CD's or give them away as gifts. I also use netlabels extensively, mostly for my ambient or downtempo electronic music.
Books: This is a mess, though this could be book production's current digital revolution. My physical books are usually used and cheaper than $5, while digital books (read on a Kindle 3) are whatever strikes my fancy and price point. The quantity at which I buy either depends on how much I'm reading, and if the public library has it. For Kindle purchases I use Calibre and additional plugin tools to remove DRM from Kindle formats and archive them locally and remotely. My book reading is as scattered as my purchasing and owning, so it's all over the map appropriately.
Games: Also a mess. I'm deciding which platform I prefer so I can eliminate the cruft, which is emotional and complicated. PC games? I'm digital. Wii? Digital: I rip using a hacked Wii and perpetually loan the discs to my brother. However, older consoles require physical media. Thus the debate continues.
I've discussed the pre-existing bias that comes with digital media. We inherently distrust digital items culturally, through increased complexity and less control over the product itself. This is shown through both consumer resistance as well as corporate resistance to such evolutions. This is perceived and is partially my perception of society and culture. Does reality actually reflect what we think?
This is in terms of my experience because I feel trying to generalize any thesis's from the topic would end poorly. When I talk about my own digital conversion, I'm discussing the lack of reliance on phsyical product versus digital distribution, not analog versus digital media playback.
Movies and TV Shows: I don't do much of this, but when I do (usually for things I'm nostalgic for) I just rip it from a DVD and give the disc away.
Music: I used to buy music from various MP3 stores online, but I have since converted to OGG and FLAC and now try to get either a CD or lossless audio for format shifting. The disc is typically stored or put with my books if I really, really like it. Sometimes I loan out CD's or give them away as gifts. I also use netlabels extensively, mostly for my ambient or downtempo electronic music.
Books: This is a mess, though this could be book production's current digital revolution. My physical books are usually used and cheaper than $5, while digital books (read on a Kindle 3) are whatever strikes my fancy and price point. The quantity at which I buy either depends on how much I'm reading, and if the public library has it. For Kindle purchases I use Calibre and additional plugin tools to remove DRM from Kindle formats and archive them locally and remotely. My book reading is as scattered as my purchasing and owning, so it's all over the map appropriately.
Games: Also a mess. I'm deciding which platform I prefer so I can eliminate the cruft, which is emotional and complicated. PC games? I'm digital. Wii? Digital: I rip using a hacked Wii and perpetually loan the discs to my brother. However, older consoles require physical media. Thus the debate continues.
Tweak
New Yorker talks about Steve Jobs (I sent it to my Kindle for ad-free reading - use something to clear the clutter!)
The article is an advertisement for the biography, yes. However, the thesis is that Jobs was a tweaker - changing things around him, pointing out what worked and endlessly pushing for more and toward his ideal perfection.
My first reaction to the article is whether the tech industry will have another full-on innovator. Perhaps. But as I learn about the past within computers, I see a cycle, or a pattern. What is cool, in focus, remembered will cycle forward and things are forgotten and then remembered again. Cultural focus shifts.
I was thinking as I was looking around at CLI applications: What hasn't been done? If I knew I'd be rich, or at least a little richer than I am now. But has there actually has been any legitimate new ideas in the tech industry of late? There's a long and complicated answer summed up with "Yes, but only a very little bit." It depends on what you qualify as "new," and how it stacks up to older eras.
The article's description of Jobs' endless tweak cycle impacted me because this is why I use Linux. I always tweak my own machines to perfection within my own limitations. I think that Jobs was incorrect in thinking that perfection for him is perfection for everyone, which is why I profess a love for open as much as he stood for closing his products.
The tech industry hasn't become stagnant, as much as its become fashion. It's bold, it's loud, and it sells. And considering the state the current mainstream tech press, is is fair to argue that they have become vapid fashion critics? This is why Jobs' face is plastered over People and Time - not because the tech industry has become mainstream, but because the tech industry has become about fashion. I don't particularly think Jobs intended this to be the case, but his death reveals it.
The article is an advertisement for the biography, yes. However, the thesis is that Jobs was a tweaker - changing things around him, pointing out what worked and endlessly pushing for more and toward his ideal perfection.
My first reaction to the article is whether the tech industry will have another full-on innovator. Perhaps. But as I learn about the past within computers, I see a cycle, or a pattern. What is cool, in focus, remembered will cycle forward and things are forgotten and then remembered again. Cultural focus shifts.
I was thinking as I was looking around at CLI applications: What hasn't been done? If I knew I'd be rich, or at least a little richer than I am now. But has there actually has been any legitimate new ideas in the tech industry of late? There's a long and complicated answer summed up with "Yes, but only a very little bit." It depends on what you qualify as "new," and how it stacks up to older eras.
The article's description of Jobs' endless tweak cycle impacted me because this is why I use Linux. I always tweak my own machines to perfection within my own limitations. I think that Jobs was incorrect in thinking that perfection for him is perfection for everyone, which is why I profess a love for open as much as he stood for closing his products.
The tech industry hasn't become stagnant, as much as its become fashion. It's bold, it's loud, and it sells. And considering the state the current mainstream tech press, is is fair to argue that they have become vapid fashion critics? This is why Jobs' face is plastered over People and Time - not because the tech industry has become mainstream, but because the tech industry has become about fashion. I don't particularly think Jobs intended this to be the case, but his death reveals it.
Reminder (mostly for myself)
You know what feels good? Getting rid of things I don't need any more.
You know what feels better? Not buying the things in the first place.
You know what feels better? Not buying the things in the first place.
bashpodder
Bashpodder is a bash script that watches RSS feeds of podcasts for you. You make a list of the podcasts you enjoy in its config file, run the script, and it checks to see if there are new episodes.
I'm pretty sure it's just checking for new episodes versus its .log file, and wget-ing the episodes that aren't there. This unfortunately means that the first time you run it, you'll get everything that podcast has available. But if that's a concern, you could always simply edit the script and comment out the wget commands, or add the URL's to the log file.
If I didn't have a bandwidth limit every month I'd get the job to get run on a regular basis, but I usually just run it when I'm at my local campus.
---
Podcasts I'm digging: The Bugle (news satire), Other People Podcast (writer interviews), Comedy Bang Bang (comedian interviews and improv), fslab.net's podcast (wide variety of techno mixes), and NPR/Radiolab's the American Life (journalism).
I'm pretty sure it's just checking for new episodes versus its .log file, and wget-ing the episodes that aren't there. This unfortunately means that the first time you run it, you'll get everything that podcast has available. But if that's a concern, you could always simply edit the script and comment out the wget commands, or add the URL's to the log file.
If I didn't have a bandwidth limit every month I'd get the job to get run on a regular basis, but I usually just run it when I'm at my local campus.
---
Podcasts I'm digging: The Bugle (news satire), Other People Podcast (writer interviews), Comedy Bang Bang (comedian interviews and improv), fslab.net's podcast (wide variety of techno mixes), and NPR/Radiolab's the American Life (journalism).
Obsolescence
The minimalist philosophy I've assumed since last time is a simple one. It's basically come down to this: if it doesn't improve my standard of living in a quantifiable and predictable way, I don't let it into my life.
However, I've also started to morph this concept into something incorporating sustainability - both personal and social. How long will this last? It's a profound question that gets ignored a lot in our fast, self-enclosed tech industry, where the tech press isn't necessarily holding the tech industry accountable any more and largely is the industry's way of boosting its own ego and relevance.
Had I not bought the Kindle yet, I probably wouldn't buy it remembering the sustainability theory. For digital books - once you rip the DRM - the sustainability is long, but for hardware, used books not only are useful longer, but are generally better for everyone. Sure, the obvious angle is that technology contains poisonous toxins, released everywhere on production and destruction. I bought the Kindle thinking that plain text won't be obsolete, but the device itself will not last forever: batteries and corporate support will die, and meanwhile paper books still remain untouched. It's less sustainable as a platform in my life. It may increase my standard of living in quantifiable ways, but it also comes with a price and an expiration date.
I've often praised "used" purchases as a more noble and effective way to move forward, and it's going to be a large part of how I live. When the tech industry is more interested in creating disposable, short lifespan devices that lack repair capabilities (see the appliances conversation we had last year) I find it more rewarding to save a few forgotten tools of yesterday from the trashcan and the eWaste dump. I usually can assume that if it has lasted this long and can still be sold, it will probably continue to do so.
Linux helps here by making old computers useful again, but that's a blog I've already written. It's back there. Trust me.
However, I've also started to morph this concept into something incorporating sustainability - both personal and social. How long will this last? It's a profound question that gets ignored a lot in our fast, self-enclosed tech industry, where the tech press isn't necessarily holding the tech industry accountable any more and largely is the industry's way of boosting its own ego and relevance.
Had I not bought the Kindle yet, I probably wouldn't buy it remembering the sustainability theory. For digital books - once you rip the DRM - the sustainability is long, but for hardware, used books not only are useful longer, but are generally better for everyone. Sure, the obvious angle is that technology contains poisonous toxins, released everywhere on production and destruction. I bought the Kindle thinking that plain text won't be obsolete, but the device itself will not last forever: batteries and corporate support will die, and meanwhile paper books still remain untouched. It's less sustainable as a platform in my life. It may increase my standard of living in quantifiable ways, but it also comes with a price and an expiration date.
I've often praised "used" purchases as a more noble and effective way to move forward, and it's going to be a large part of how I live. When the tech industry is more interested in creating disposable, short lifespan devices that lack repair capabilities (see the appliances conversation we had last year) I find it more rewarding to save a few forgotten tools of yesterday from the trashcan and the eWaste dump. I usually can assume that if it has lasted this long and can still be sold, it will probably continue to do so.
Linux helps here by making old computers useful again, but that's a blog I've already written. It's back there. Trust me.
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