DiscoverOurMusic.com is the site I co-own with my buddy Kristine. The whole project was her idea, and I've produced the HTML, codebehind and SQL code. Kristine did help me a lot with the new version's SQL code though - because yes, there is a new version that's coming out pretty soon.
The template ain't crap anymore. We added some google ads, we have an artist page, a classifieds section, a flash music player on the artist's page (instead of a Windows Media Player pop-up) - and we hope to have everything up and running by next week.
If you're a music artist, why choose us instead of MySpace? The answer's simple - because MySpace ain't specialised in Music. MySpace is a networking site - huge - around 105 million users - and it can't be compared to a community anymore. You'll be placing your music on MySpace but you will still have to compete against all the non-music content that people are submitting over there, i.e. pictures, movies, blog entries and personal information. Finding your music would be similar to finding something on the net.
We're a site which focuses on the music - people looking for music will come to our site to listen to you. That is why we're better, and that is what we're going to prove very soon.
Welcome to my personal blog. Flic-En-Flac is where I live, and through the random and scattered posts that have been slapped together, you might just learn to know more about the place itself. Thank you for visiting and complaining.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
80th Post
Poverty is an amazing thing. It slowly slides under you, like a knowing shark lurks beneath a surfer's board. You don't realise in how much shit you are until the jaws of this by-product of our capitalistic society have finally closed upon you: you're done for, without a cent to spend. You won't get access to cigarettes, and you will have to resort to a week-long diet of instant noodles. And maybe tuna fish on good days.
A poor me is writing and posting this 80th post, convinced that trying to summon any form of inspiration inside of me will only bring out farts.
A poor me is writing and posting this 80th post, convinced that trying to summon any form of inspiration inside of me will only bring out farts.
A Test Post
This is a test post. People usually do test posts the day they create their blogs, but I felt that creating a test entry on my 79th post was something pretty neat to do.
Actually, I'm showing one of my buddies how you can create posts on blogger.com. It seems she recently got all crazy about blogs, and is thinking of offering blogs to the whole world.
Actually, I'm showing one of my buddies how you can create posts on blogger.com. It seems she recently got all crazy about blogs, and is thinking of offering blogs to the whole world.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
A Post Made Of Nothing
The internet is being flooded with new content: news, videos, stories, music... How can I ever contribute something original to this massive flood of information, this monstruous tsunami of zeros and ones? A blog post would be comparable to a drop of water falling in a lake in the blogsphere. It would never make a difference on the internet.
After a desperate search for originality, an amazing idea hit me: Yes, I will write about nothing. If the internet has everything, I'll give it nothing. Some of my readers might be reassured to hear that for once, I'm sparing them some of my desperate pseudo-romantic short-lived love affairs or the beach-bum related news of Flic-En-Flac; but be prepared, because there's a lot I want to say about nothing.
Nothing, I believe, is my greatest talent. It is the common denominator of all my blog posts and the very foundation behind my ideas and motives. Even if I have no whatsoever affiliation with Freddy (also known as Friedrich Nietzsche), I sincerely recognise and applaud the Nihilist school of thought. Our existence has no particular purpose and goal. We are therefore the children of the Nothing.
There is no conclusion to this article, because it might become something if I add one. There will be no memory of it once I've posted it (doublethink is closely related to nothing, I believe) and hopefully, it will truly become something close to nothing the day Dumbie (also known as George Bush) accidentally presses the "Fire" button on the nuke control instead of the one on his XBox and blasts out Mountain View, effectively destroying Google and all related services such as Blogger.com where my blog is hosted.
After a desperate search for originality, an amazing idea hit me: Yes, I will write about nothing. If the internet has everything, I'll give it nothing. Some of my readers might be reassured to hear that for once, I'm sparing them some of my desperate pseudo-romantic short-lived love affairs or the beach-bum related news of Flic-En-Flac; but be prepared, because there's a lot I want to say about nothing.
Nothing, I believe, is my greatest talent. It is the common denominator of all my blog posts and the very foundation behind my ideas and motives. Even if I have no whatsoever affiliation with Freddy (also known as Friedrich Nietzsche), I sincerely recognise and applaud the Nihilist school of thought. Our existence has no particular purpose and goal. We are therefore the children of the Nothing.
There is no conclusion to this article, because it might become something if I add one. There will be no memory of it once I've posted it (doublethink is closely related to nothing, I believe) and hopefully, it will truly become something close to nothing the day Dumbie (also known as George Bush) accidentally presses the "Fire" button on the nuke control instead of the one on his XBox and blasts out Mountain View, effectively destroying Google and all related services such as Blogger.com where my blog is hosted.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunflower's Engagement
I dunno how she did it - but she did it. After several months of bitchin' the world about Kevin, she finally got engaged! Aveisha - I'm so happy for you! Kevin - I'm so sorry buddy.
First of all, this was no ordinary engagement party. It was Aveisha's. A huge tent had been installed outside, and 100-150 chairs had been arranged for the guests. Everybody ('cept for probably me) was neatly dressed and a notice reading "Please dump the toilet paper in the bin provided. If you don't want to dump it, swallow it" was stuck inside the toilet.
Aveisha's engagement is the beginning of a pattern that might last for several more years - friends getting engaged and married, one after the other. Pretty soon, they'll start having kids, and their kids will get married and... well, anyway -
I finally met Kevin. I spent a few minutes talking to him and I can say that I was rather surprised. Aveisha's definitely got one hell of a character, and I always thought that the guy who'd end up with her would need to have nerves of steel and have followed some kind of training to dodge projectile electric household appliances; but no - Kevin is actually a nice guy with a warm smile. The world is full of surprises.
First of all, this was no ordinary engagement party. It was Aveisha's. A huge tent had been installed outside, and 100-150 chairs had been arranged for the guests. Everybody ('cept for probably me) was neatly dressed and a notice reading "Please dump the toilet paper in the bin provided. If you don't want to dump it, swallow it" was stuck inside the toilet.
Aveisha's engagement is the beginning of a pattern that might last for several more years - friends getting engaged and married, one after the other. Pretty soon, they'll start having kids, and their kids will get married and... well, anyway -
I finally met Kevin. I spent a few minutes talking to him and I can say that I was rather surprised. Aveisha's definitely got one hell of a character, and I always thought that the guy who'd end up with her would need to have nerves of steel and have followed some kind of training to dodge projectile electric household appliances; but no - Kevin is actually a nice guy with a warm smile. The world is full of surprises.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
A Typical Essay
In primary school, my teachers used to accuse me of submitting work which I hadn't authored. Well, I admit that I had my mom copy french verbs for me once or twice, but I've always authored every essay I turned back.
An essay from a typical primary school student isn't exactly something original though: teachers make sure that each one of their pupils remembers a series of templates that he/she can then adapt by using bullshit expressions such as "as cold as ice", "as fast as the wind" etc etc.
Zero creativity. Pathetic. I could've made a program to generate such essays.
Kids, here's a great essay you can learn from:
It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I was outside, going nowhere in particular. After getting high on various inexpensive drugs, I decided to grab a bottle of whisky at the supermarket. Of course being an underage 11 year old living in a society where moral values pale in front of profit, getting a bottle of whisky was an easy task.
I was then headed towards some strange destination, my bottle of sky tucked under my arm. My legs were carrying me, and the mixture of foreign chemicals and alcohol in my bloodstream were taking decisions for me.
-"I don't give a fuck," I said aloud, thinking that it would be a neat thing to say, and adding a hint of conversation to this story.
The weather was simply delicious. I don't know why it was delicious, nor do I understand why I thought that it was, but the amazing scene around me was delicious. I could see several people gathered a hundred metres away. Due to the fact that I have to make something happen in this essay, I ran towards them and discovered a car which had obviously had an accident. Some people were trying to open the front driver door.
A few minutes later, the door swung open, and the driver happily walked out of the car. He was safe and sound, until a huge bus came from nowhere and crushed him to death. Realising that this could be a traumatising experience for me, I only gathered the beautiful ruby-red drops of blood that were flying about, splattering on people's clothes and on the car. Oh, there was also a yellow butterfly and it was very beautiful.
My story ends with this very colourful and beautiful scene. Even if there is no particular lesson to be learnt, I'll have to say something to appear wise - "People should be more careful."
An essay from a typical primary school student isn't exactly something original though: teachers make sure that each one of their pupils remembers a series of templates that he/she can then adapt by using bullshit expressions such as "as cold as ice", "as fast as the wind" etc etc.
Zero creativity. Pathetic. I could've made a program to generate such essays.
Kids, here's a great essay you can learn from:
It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I was outside, going nowhere in particular. After getting high on various inexpensive drugs, I decided to grab a bottle of whisky at the supermarket. Of course being an underage 11 year old living in a society where moral values pale in front of profit, getting a bottle of whisky was an easy task.
I was then headed towards some strange destination, my bottle of sky tucked under my arm. My legs were carrying me, and the mixture of foreign chemicals and alcohol in my bloodstream were taking decisions for me.
-"I don't give a fuck," I said aloud, thinking that it would be a neat thing to say, and adding a hint of conversation to this story.
The weather was simply delicious. I don't know why it was delicious, nor do I understand why I thought that it was, but the amazing scene around me was delicious. I could see several people gathered a hundred metres away. Due to the fact that I have to make something happen in this essay, I ran towards them and discovered a car which had obviously had an accident. Some people were trying to open the front driver door.
A few minutes later, the door swung open, and the driver happily walked out of the car. He was safe and sound, until a huge bus came from nowhere and crushed him to death. Realising that this could be a traumatising experience for me, I only gathered the beautiful ruby-red drops of blood that were flying about, splattering on people's clothes and on the car. Oh, there was also a yellow butterfly and it was very beautiful.
My story ends with this very colourful and beautiful scene. Even if there is no particular lesson to be learnt, I'll have to say something to appear wise - "People should be more careful."
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Flic-En-Flac Useful Information
The Flic-En-Flac local supermarket - Pasadena Spar now closes at 17:00 on Sundays
Krish's Delights closes at 21:30 on weekdays, and 22:00 on Saturdays and Sundays
Shoppie closes at 19:00 on weekdays
You can get Emtel Phonecards at the Wolmar Store, Shoppie and Ah-Youn.
You can get cigarettes late at night at the casino (next to spar). The casino closes at around 03:00 am, but you might have to pay Rs 135-Rs 150 for a pack of 20.
The two places you can get internet in here is - [free] the Post Office (behind the police station) and at [paying] Spar.
And of course, if you need a place to stay, the police station's open 24/24.
Krish's Delights closes at 21:30 on weekdays, and 22:00 on Saturdays and Sundays
Shoppie closes at 19:00 on weekdays
You can get Emtel Phonecards at the Wolmar Store, Shoppie and Ah-Youn.
You can get cigarettes late at night at the casino (next to spar). The casino closes at around 03:00 am, but you might have to pay Rs 135-Rs 150 for a pack of 20.
The two places you can get internet in here is - [free] the Post Office (behind the police station) and at [paying] Spar.
And of course, if you need a place to stay, the police station's open 24/24.
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