<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860</id><updated>2011-11-18T07:26:41.960-08:00</updated><category term='net.art'/><category term='people'/><category term='rubbish'/><category term='web2.0'/><category term='pain'/><category term='comic'/><category term='nonsense'/><category term='game'/><category term='deep stupid nonsense'/><category term='work'/><category term='D'/><category term='google'/><category term='life'/><category term='observation'/><title type='text'>The Poe Bicycle Conspiracy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-8699351197136304169</id><published>2011-11-18T07:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T07:26:42.031-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deep stupid nonsense'/><title type='text'>A tired rant on the right to live or die as we choose, and how we choose how we choose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;People have been making the choice to die since jump, just ask Kurt Cobain. Often it is a shock, seen as a selfish, cowardly or desperate act. The difficulties arise when those people who would ask to end their own lives first ask for the blessing of those around them, attempting to create a dialogue informing a concept that seems, at first glance, indefensible; would it be okay if I ended my life?&lt;br&gt;With regards to the adolescent jumper, pilltosser or vein-dumper, suffering in silence then vanishing in a blaze, it is almost seen as an unavoidable loss, like every so often there's an egg in the carton on the shelf in the supermarket that's broken before you even pick up the package. But when considering those with the wisdom of ages, old enough to know better, who've lived life and can look back, who want to make a similar choice, we are aghast, shocked and dismayed that such a thing could even happen. &lt;br&gt;Surely, callous a out sounds, we've got it backwards. It should be the other way around. Euthanasia should be one of those things that is sad, upsetting and makes us shake our heads at what the world has come to, hard on those left behind, maybe a little selfish, but there you have it, while the deliberate death decisions of the young should fuel debate, polarise and consternate, stop the world each time it happens.&lt;br&gt;Those who know enough to know they know enough should be allowed to make their peace the way they want to, while those who know that all they know is all there is to know should be watched and cared for until they see what knowing is actually about, and can make a decision based on experience.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-8699351197136304169?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/8699351197136304169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=8699351197136304169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8699351197136304169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8699351197136304169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2011/11/people-have-been-making-choice-to-die.html' title='A tired rant on the right to live or die as we choose, and how we choose how we choose.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-5086514237912917953</id><published>2011-05-15T07:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T07:43:02.324-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='observation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>This is a black day for me.</title><content type='html'>After an awful few days at work, undertaken as a favor, in the Glitterpuke Mine and taupe-white marble-tiled mire that in common parlance is known as Chadstone, I find myself predictably keyed up. Which reminds me, I noticed an 8-bit-esque app in the Android market. I will sample said app. Perhaps I will find it a refreshing change of pace to the case of artificially induced ADHD that place always causes.  &lt;br/&gt; &lt;h3&gt; four-and-change minutes later&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;a href='http://market.android.com/details?id=hu.butcher.nyanCat'&gt;I've just collected 464 stars in nyancat game!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br/&gt; So much for that change of pace.  &lt;br/&gt; That having been said it was still more pleasant than Chadstone.  &lt;br/&gt; I think I'll go download that other Nyancat app, the one where you just stare at it, gaining more points the longer you tolerate the constant noise gnawing at mind and eardrums, the colourful assault on your eyeballs and the brain-numbing self-imposed inactivity. &lt;br/&gt; That's more the change of pace I was looking for. So much more peaceful than that horrible place. &lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br/&gt; Ah. That's better.&lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-5086514237912917953?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/5086514237912917953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=5086514237912917953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/5086514237912917953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/5086514237912917953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-is-black-day-for-me.html' title='This is a black day for me.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-7128872130265186052</id><published>2010-03-23T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T07:18:34.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><title type='text'>Filesharing? Soul-baring?</title><content type='html'>People are strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just finished reading a big ol' stack of eMails that I found on isoHunt regarding a band (/design company/author/I don't know what) and their struggle against piracy.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know you could sort out legal issues with the same sort of argument-style and strategy as you use on an online in-game-chat fight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My conclusions are as follows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Neither side were very nice to each-other.&lt;br /&gt;2. The presentation of material was inevitably geared towards the torrent index website man's side, because he was the one doing all the stockpiling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Restating the same thing only louder doesn't help win an argument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Neither does blocking a person's email.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Rational argument is often met by point 3. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I'm sure not all alternative lifestyle people are vampire people, and I'm sure not all vampire people are as weird as the guy who wrote "Allure of the Vampire: Our Sexual Attraction to the Undead."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I am no better than anyone else who laughs at someone for being different, or a little more different than most different people. (See point 6.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People are strange.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-7128872130265186052?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/7128872130265186052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=7128872130265186052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/7128872130265186052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/7128872130265186052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2010/03/filesharing-soul-baring.html' title='Filesharing? Soul-baring?'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-8635338152103001020</id><published>2008-10-06T05:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T05:42:13.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flock this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpad="1" bgcolor="#ffffcc" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#ffccff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 align="center"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The Flock browser comes with a Blog Editor tab.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This is going to be interesting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr bgcolor="#ffccff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;large&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anyway, the Fringe festival is going swimmingly. I say swimmingly because I have a terrible cold and feel as though I am permanently immersed in potato and leek soup.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/large&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;tt&gt;The part of the show that I have invested in emotionally, the lame bastard child of Daft Punk and Spinal Tap, those crazy sega-band rocksters &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/16bitsandamicrophone"&gt;Press Play&lt;/a&gt;, has still not performed a full show, hampered as we are by poor organisation, technical problems and conflicting schedules, as well as a supremely vague mission statement and an absence of goal-orientation and regular status reports. Perhaps an ad-hoc committee to address the difficulties of implementing a comprehensive documentation standard is in order. Or maybe we'll just fumble along as we go again.&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;tt&gt;Anyway, it's looking like being the chip-show on Wednesday and Thursday, and hopefully now that the MDJam is in its' most complete incarnation so far, we'll be able to rehearse more during the holidays and get some actual band-style shows instead of art-style shows.&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a soundcheck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr bgcolor="#ffccff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;tt&gt;Anyhow, time for a &lt;del&gt;stiff scotch and a vicodin&lt;/del&gt; cup of tea and a multivitamin.&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;tt&gt; Bedtime now.&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;del&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/del&gt;&amp;nbsp;Yours in sickness and in health, but mostly sickness,&amp;nbsp;&lt;del&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;del&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/del&gt;&amp;nbsp;The Poe.&amp;nbsp;&lt;del&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blogged with the &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser"&gt;Flock Browser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-8635338152103001020?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/8635338152103001020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=8635338152103001020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8635338152103001020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8635338152103001020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2008/10/flock-this.html' title='Flock this!'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-8847350485358235920</id><published>2008-07-31T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T20:33:53.697-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='net.art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='game'/><title type='text'>All the cool kids want flowers and clouds.</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;Wow, two posts in one day.&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;H3&gt;That's got to be some kind of a record.&lt;/h3&gt; Actually two posts in the same month is a record for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, there is actually a reason I simply MUST post, I'm not just doing it for the sake of doing it. One of my units, Network Arts has rekindled my enthusiasm for the pretty side of the internet. While browsing &lt;a href="http://tale-of-tales.com"&gt;Tale of Tales&lt;/a&gt;, an offshoot game design company, consisting of prominent &lt;a href="http://entropy8zuper.org"&gt;net.artists&lt;/a&gt; Michaël Samyn and Aureia Harvey, I found one of those things that makes me decide I like computer games again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That thing was Flower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"  codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0" id="gtembed" width="480" height="392"&gt; &lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.gametrailers.com/remote_wrap.php?mid=36151"/&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt; &lt;embed src="http://www.gametrailers.com/remote_wrap.php?mid=36151" swLiveConnect="true" name="gtembed" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" height="392"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You play as the wind. Cool, huh? Kinda reminds me of another game that made me feel like being a nerd wasn't such a bad thing, &lt;a href="intihuatani.usc.edu/cloud"&gt;Cloud&lt;/a&gt;. If people can continue to make, like, play and propagate games like this, I will go from [&lt;tt&gt;&lt;b&gt;=\&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;] to [&lt;tt&gt;&lt;b&gt;^^'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone wants me I'll be playing &lt;a href="http://tale-of-tales.com/TheEndlessForest/index.html"&gt;The Endless Forest&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-8847350485358235920?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/8847350485358235920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=8847350485358235920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8847350485358235920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8847350485358235920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2008/07/all-cool-kids-want-flowers-and-clouds.html' title='All the cool kids want flowers and clouds.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-8622783734448010721</id><published>2008-07-31T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T18:57:05.196-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='web2.0'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='google'/><title type='text'>Google, Apple, Stalin and my mobile phone.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border=0&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;h2&gt;There is a link, go with me on this. &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h3&gt;All will become clear, I promise.*&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. I'm way behind the times (that's nothing new), and I've just discovered Knol. I have a tendency to periodically abandon the Internets for a couple of weeks at a time, usually when life gets in the way. When I come back, I'm always amazed at how much it's grown up in my absence, like a distant nephew or something. It's always coming up with new things, new ways to surprise me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I was surprised by Knol. Mainly because I don't really understand why it exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I understand &lt;u&gt;WHY&lt;/u&gt;, but not &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;WHY&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; why. I can see it being a useful resource to those already well versed in the concept of user-generated databases and peer-review, it'd be just like Wikipedia with credibility. But why do we need it? It's just Wikipedia with credibility. And of course, a capacity for growth and integration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's Wikipedia for commercial bloggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See this is why Google confuse me. They see an idea and they think, "Wow, that's neat. We could do that, and make it easily accessible for EVERYONE, and free!" Then they go and design someth- Woah. it's hailing outside like baby Thor throwing an ice-cold hissy-fit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. That's the downside with windows. More to see, more to distract me. As I was saying: They see something, then in a sweep of unilateral grandiosity they make it bigger, better, all-encompassing and easy to use. Then they stuff it full of AdWords. It's this whole 'left hand makes warm woolen mittens and gives them away on the street corner while the right hand completely ignoring the entire existence of the left hand, trys to tell the world no one needs that second glove, really, you should just buy this one, it's like both gloves in one.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, if you have a gMail account, get someone to send you an email that contains the words "google advertising." Low and behold, the column of ads on the sidebar is gone. It's like Anil Dash says in his article "&lt;a href="http://www.dashes.com/anil/2007/12/google-and-theory-of-mind.html"&gt;Google and Theory of Mind&lt;/a&gt;." They seem to think if they put their big ol' e-hands over their eyes, no one will be able to see what they're doing because they're invisible now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compare Google, whose mantra is "Don't be evil," to say... Apple. The last of the true Evil companies. They work in secret, lock themselves in enclosed rooms to come up with products that exist in their own little space and don't need integration, forget how annoying that is for the rest of us, unveil it in a blinding flash of glory and tell us it's the Mechanical Messiah. And it works. Opposite sides of the spectrum. Both have completely different approaches to, well everything. Google loves peer-review, word of mouth and the Blogosphere. Apple loves Steve Jobs, white things without sharp edges, expensive ad campaigns and the Cone of Silence. Yet they both are somehow at the forefront of the social stratum. Google is a verb, and iPod is the default name for ANY mp3 player. They have both managed to create the exact mindset that Communist leaders throughout history were aiming for: "Who cares if it doesn't work so good? Isn't it awesome to be a part of it? Give ol' Uncle Joe a hug."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why my new mobile phone**, when it eventually comes around, will be a clunky LG monster with Bluetooth and a spare battery. Because if I got an iPhone, I'd have to re-engineer my life a little too much for my liking.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;*I have a tendency to break promises that I make a while sitting at a keyboard. Just ask ^nP0. Sure, I'll help out with your ladder match. I promise not to screw it up...&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;**See? I told you I'd put 'em all together.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCLAIMER&lt;/b&gt;: Yes, I know. I'm on a google-run blog. What can I say? I'm a communist. I love free stuff that works most of the time. Who cares about my privacy?&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-8622783734448010721?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/8622783734448010721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=8622783734448010721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8622783734448010721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8622783734448010721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2008/07/google-apple-stalin-and-my-mobile-phone.html' title='Google, Apple, Stalin and my mobile phone.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-5559502592918951346</id><published>2008-05-01T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T02:08:53.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now I dont' normally do this but...</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;This has got to stop!&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Corey Worthington has gone too far.&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 'man' is a menace to everything. Aside from photoshopping away his acne, he has released a terrible song and should feel terrible. It is so terrible in fact that I am not even going to link to it, as it will only perpetrate the madness. More ranting after the jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j7/Bbke69/fuckyou1.jpg" border="0" alt="fresh"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I must admit to being guilty on occasion of using the word 'fresh' in a context different from its' intended usage, particularly with reference to certain aspects of certain musical compositions. I am however, very discerning of said usage, bestowing the title upon only the most worthy tracks. I would consider myself a connoisseur of the word 'fresh' whereupon it applies to music and I must hereby lodge my protest at this irresponsible, near criminal misuse of this particular plaudit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Novel? Yes. Fresh? Most definitely not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-5559502592918951346?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/5559502592918951346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=5559502592918951346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/5559502592918951346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/5559502592918951346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2008/05/now-i-dont-normally-do-this-but.html' title='Now I dont&apos; normally do this but...'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-8082313320080620677</id><published>2008-05-01T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T01:16:17.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need mySpace, just a little space.</title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;In which I dust off the typing hands and attempt my to integrate!&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;I recently discovered to my great surprise that I am technophobic.&lt;/h3&gt; I'm not a Luddite by  any means, nor am I particularly technologically illiterate. I possess some meagre knowledge of computing, bolstered when necessary by search-engines and forums and I can even find my way around IRC without accidentally burning too many bridges. But for some reason, mention anything relating to user-generated content and I have a panic attack, cancel my facebook account and change my eMail address, then spend the next three days periodically checking my bank balance to make sure nobody's stolen my identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is it about web2.0/networking sites that scares the crap out of me? I mean, I chuckle at the news stories of people being stalked on mySpace, dismiss the attempts of sites like Yahoo! to make their sites more secure by adding phishing filters and sign-in seals as naive, yet I am still loathe to use my real name when filling out forms on line, as if it will actually afford me some sort of protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it boils down to the same mistrust of humanity that prevents me from putting my telephone number and billing address on business cards and handing them out to strangers outside Flinders Street Station. People are creepy, no matter where they are. They are creepy on trains, in parks, at the football(all denominations, some more than others) and in the comfort of their own home, so why should they not be creepy on the internet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many ways the internet makes it easier for people to be creepy, what with the optional anonymity etcetera, which I suppose is the basis for my misgivings about web2.0 technology. Give people the opportunity to delve into other people's lives and they'll take it. Let them do it behind a fake name and even the most well-mannered person can easily become a demented voyeur. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I suspect that my fears are baseless, just paranoia and mistrust, but that doesn't stop the nagging feeling that runs around my subconscious in cleats every time someone I barely know asks if I have a mySpace. I mean, all you have to do is look at the press coverage. Man finds long-lost sibling thanks to Facebook. Adopted daughter reunited with favourite puppy on Youtube. Even a friend of mine was contacted by a cousin she hadn't seen in years and had pretty much consigned to the depths of Fell-out-of-contact-Land. So it really does do good things. But also, I've had other friends the targets of ridiculous, childish bullying, smear-campaigns, rumourmongering and other such skulduggery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose you take the good with the bad, but the whole thing just smacks a little too much of the Cult of Self-Worship for me. In some cases it just seems like it's religious war in miniature, acted out with crossposting and spam, instead of flaming pitchforks. If someone disrespects your God, you start your armies marching. If someone posts bad press about you on their mySpace, you get your friends and bomb their comments section. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's probably the main reason I keep a few layers of whimsy between me and the masses. You can't call it self worship if you can't find your self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-8082313320080620677?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/8082313320080620677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=8082313320080620677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8082313320080620677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/8082313320080620677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-need-myspace-just-little-space.html' title='I need mySpace, just a little space.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-3762937256462352156</id><published>2007-12-29T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T16:46:32.021-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='web2.0'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rubbish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comic'/><title type='text'>A change in direction.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Introducing...&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Insomnia Comics&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;QUOTE:&lt;/b&gt;PoeBicycle @ &lt;i&gt;Mon Dec 17, 2007, 3:10 AM&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"I'm Poe and this is my Deviant Art page thing bloke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. I'm an insomniac who has strange whimsical ideas, and when I can be bothered I draw them down using a horrible applet, with a mouse, on my home computer, in my room, next to my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People (i.e. my sister) seem to like them, so I thought I'd start putting the more memorable ones up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, it'll give me something else to do at night."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm putting the comics &lt;a href=http://insomniacomics.deviantart.com&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; as well, so people who aren't &lt;a href=http://www.facebook.com&gt;web2.0 compatible&lt;/a&gt; can look at them. My search for the mysteries of the great Edgar Allen Poe will have to wait a little longer yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-3762937256462352156?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/3762937256462352156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=3762937256462352156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/3762937256462352156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/3762937256462352156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2007/12/change-in-direction.html' title='A change in direction.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-974169891442901289</id><published>2007-12-14T19:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T21:09:06.413-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='D'/><title type='text'>Nicked!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;I've been clocked!&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently my internet has been giving me trouble, or so accords my guru with regards to such things. Anyhow, I was going about my way, in the bicycle lane of the information superhighway, when I was clocked by a flash applet. It wrote me a ticket which appeared thus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="1" bgcolor="#cccc99" frame="border" cellspacing="5"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://speedtest.dslreports.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.dslreports.com/im/41843845/9227.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It appears I was moving slowly in America, which evidently is a ticketable offence. Anyhow, I appear to have wangled my way out of a fine, which is nice for me. But, it made me curious as to my connection's latency upon roads closer to home, so I booked in for a speed test, the results of which are shown below.&lt;table border="1" bgcolor="#cccc99" frame="border" cellspacing="12"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;td&gt;[`[*Test Results from &lt;a href="http://www.ozspeedtest.com/"&gt;Oz Broadband Speed Test&lt;/a&gt;*]`]&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirror: [*OptusNet*]&lt;br /&gt;Data: [*70 KB*]&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Test Time: [*0.34 secs*]&lt;br /&gt;Test run on [*15/12/2007*] @ [*02:46 PM*]&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your line speed is [*1.67 Mbps*] (1673 kbps).&lt;br /&gt;Your download speed is [*209 KB/s*] (0.2 MB/s).&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, once I sort out my problems with the internets, I will be able to get back to my search.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-974169891442901289?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/974169891442901289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=974169891442901289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/974169891442901289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/974169891442901289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2007/12/nicked.html' title='Nicked!'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255064268174240860.post-4431352328075444327</id><published>2007-11-07T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T06:12:34.776-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nonsense'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rubbish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='google'/><title type='text'>And so it begins.</title><content type='html'>Greetings. If you have found your way to this page by accident, I sincerely apologize for wasting your time. Please, go on your way and think no more of this interruption to your ordered lives, lives that are in fact built upon a fallacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To whomsoever is still around after the above note, my name is Poe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This journal is in place to serve as my record, detailing my travels in an attempt to uncover a conspiracy that I fear has been working its' way into the consciousness of the Western world. I am of course talking about the Poe Bicycle conspiracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure you will have heard of my namesake, the so-called Master of the Macabre, Edgar Allan Poe. But what you may NOT know is that the man famed for creating many disturbing tales of the paranormal had a facet to his life that was yet darker still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aim to prove, through ridiculous sweeping generalisations, uncredited hearsay, fabricated sources and of course, a healthy dash of Google Image Search, that Mr. Poe dedicated a large portion of his life to attempting to derail the development of civilisation, beginning with his early attempts at the sabotage of the most popular recreational transport of the day, the bicycle. Fear not, my dear readers. For while your faint spirits quail, mine will stand strong and unwavering against my (as yet nonexistent) detractors as I lay bare the facts of this most heinous scandal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOOOOOOO! WOOOOO! WIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                               -Þoe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/255064268174240860-4431352328075444327?l=thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/feeds/4431352328075444327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=255064268174240860&amp;postID=4431352328075444327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/4431352328075444327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/255064268174240860/posts/default/4431352328075444327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepoebicycleconspiracy.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins.'/><author><name>I'm Poe Bicycle.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09374380498777388212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gl0FujgkFFs/R4HBj6r1hxI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_aXYYKri_tY/S220/selfportrait.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
