The naked truth: why nudity’s all in our minds

Selfies. More selfies. Nude selfies. Nude rude selfies of nude rude bits and bobs. Was Bob actually in the photo? But I digress. Or undress. Whatever. Are nude photos the end of the world as we know it, or not what they’re cracked up to be?...

I often feel like I’m surrounded by photos and images of nude or nearly nude people. Shutterstock, for example, the company specialising in high quality digital photos (and where I got the photo for this post from), have quite the selection of nude photos to choose from. And wasn’t Hugh Jackman’s bum in the latest X-Men movie? And under no circumstances are you (in an antique hunting fervour) to google “milk jugs”.

But let’s take a closer look at Facebook (because it’s the only social media I use… ) I see far more of other people’s “lives” and thoughts than I want to...  I have a small number of teenage friends, but because they have loads of friends and Facebook’s predilection to close the gap on any degree of separation, I end up seeing the entire town’s collection of selfies and scantily clad holiday snaps. (I’ve included a collection of Facebook photos from the last couple of days below – these are celebrities that have been shared or liked, not my actual FF’s themselves…)   

It’s not that I want to see all those photos. And I don’t actually want to see any more. But the thing is, we’re allowed to look at photos of girls in push up bras and few clothes or clothes that weirdly suggest no clothes, and we can ogle men with bulging arm muscles and bulges in other places, but try and join in the fun with your own pictures and you’ll be in trouble. For example, a 17 year old boy has been prosecuted for having nude photos of himself on his own phone. That was America, but there are similar cases in the UK, and here in NZ we have the new Harmful Digital Communications Act, which means we could start seeing similar convictions here. This Act means that if you’re under 18 and take nude photos of yourself, or are involved in distributing images deemed “indecent” or “obscene” you are breaking the law. The punishment is a fine up to $200,000 or 10 years in prison.

This new Act has good intentions written all over it – possibly good intentions with unintended consequences. Ah yes, the worst kind. There are two issues. 1. taking photos of yourself and 2. distributing photos of other people. Firstly, taking nude rude photos of yourself. The idea is to protect our under 18’s from being exploited by gross paedophiles, perverts and bastards who blackmail. However, it fails to take into account that lots of photos are taken willingly by those under 18 themselves. And it’s actually legal to have sex at 16, so there’s a bit of inconsistency around the age appropriateness of actions here (you can do the deed, just don’t get carried away and take alluring photos...)

The other issue is distributing the photos. This clause is designed to prevent “revenge porn” type instances of photos being released without consent, and there’s no age limit to this one.  Again, revenge porn itself is terrible. And it’s bad enough having your ex turn up at your place unannounced and unexpected (and usually when they think you’re not home) to take what they think is theirs (invariably it isn’t) without being true wankers and posting compromising photos of you online as well.

The problem is who gets caught up in this one. Take events at a local high school, for example. From the latest newsletter: “over the last few weeks we have seen a disturbing increase in a number of [students]… posting inappropriate naked pictures and videos of themselves on the internet. It has reminded us that this behaviour is more common than we think”. Uh-huh. You bet your bits and bobs it is. First problem was that the students who took their own photos were under 18, second was the fact that everyone in the entire school got sent the photos.

It would be a nice world if people deleted any rude photos of others and sent their friends messages saying “please don’t forward me those photos, I don’t want to see them”. And seriously, I do wish that would happen more often. And I really dislike the idea that some people were deliberately viewing the photos so they could “have something over” the students in question. However, there were a whole lot of others who unintentionally got caught up in what ended up being the distribution of pornographic material of minors – half the school could have been done for being paedophiles all because some students willingly took photos of themselves. In my mind, the simplest way to overcome the stigma of photos and distribution is to not care about nude photos – we’re all naked underneath our clothes people.

There are a whole range of scary and risky behaviours teenagers can engage in. For example, there is a much higher chance of damage or death when it comes to testing the limits under the influence of alcohol and drugs. But nude photos? There isn’t actually a lot of innate danger in that. It actually comes down to a moral stance – the danger is all in our heads people.

Back to Facebook. In addition to the scantily clad photos and videos there are also a large number of cute photos of kittens, little children and ponies and things. In some ways this slightly weird juxtaposition only serves to “normalise” nudity. I’m really not a fan of over sexualising our kids. But there’s something so ironic and almost unjust about getting in trouble for your own experimentation. We live in a world where companies make loads of money out of making our children look sexual (make-up, clothes, endless scantily clad celebrity endorsements and ultimately borderline pornographic advertising). But try and have some fun yourself and goodness me that’s disgusting...

But is it? It seems to me that by criminalising both the taking (under 18) and distribution of photos we’re creating the very problem we’re trying to avoid. We are turning nude photos into a big deal. I’m not talking about photos and videos of other people in compromising positons. That is, and always should be, completely wrong and abhorrent. I’m talking specifically about taking nude photos of yourself.  And really, if you haven’t tried it – you should! It’s fun. It’s empowering. It’s horny. And there’s nothing like parents joining in to put the teenagers off. They’ll never take nude photos of themselves again…   

Computers in classrooms: Let’s get back to the future

Computers replacing paper and pens. Everyone is focused, self-directed and engaged. Everyone succeeds. Really? And oh yeah, it’s actually 1987 …and we were really playing Zork (or Typing Tutor).

Technology in classrooms isn’t new. I was part of a programme at high school in the 1980s using computers called Integrated Studies. It’s questionable how much school work I did using the computer back then. And it’s probably a good question to ask of kids in classrooms throughout NZ today (a horrifying number of years later). Is technology in classrooms actually a good thing or an expensive distraction from teaching and learning?

An OECD report released this week called Students, Computers and Learning, questions whether having computers in schools leads to improved student outcomes. The “outcomes” in question are results on maths, science and reading tests. In fact, their analysis shows that the higher the usage the worse the results. I’m surprised. Horrified even, given how much we spent on a laptop at the start of this year… Most debates about computers in schools usually depict two sides to the argument: the yes they’re great so shut your fat faces, or no they’re not and I told you so let’s chuck them out the window… But let’s stop and think about this for a moment.

Back in the 80s we started using computers in schools. There was also some attempt to merge the teaching of subjects previously taught separately. In all honesty, my memory is a bit hazy, but according to some research I found the purpose was to “develop collaborative learning communities”. Alright, so I’m actually none the wiser... Apparently students participating in the programme achieved outcomes “demonstrably superior” to other students. Can’t say I remember that either… maybe because I only spent two years in the programme rather than five, and really did only use computers for Zork and Typing Tutor…

I do remember that it was huge at the time. Back then anyone who owned a Commodore 64 was hot stuff. And if you were lucky enough to know someone who had an Apple 2E you used to stand in front of the altar of cool (looking, not touching) in awe. We’d all grown up listening to Computer Games so we really felt the time was now, or then really… It took three disks to boot up while the computer made whirring, grinding and crunching noises displaying “patience is golden”. And “computer awareness” was a subject at school. Oh yes, those were the days.

Despite using computers myself in school (albeit not for learning purposes), I was initially a bit cautious of computers in classrooms. During primary school, one year we specifically asked for our son not be included in the ICT class. After that though, we’ve really been caught up in the tide sweeping us towards constant computer use. In some ways it’s concerning that computers in schools are not giving us the student success outcomes we’d hoped for. In other ways I think we’re missing the point. What did we want to achieve? How did we think that would happen? And what are some of the unexpected bonuses we’ve enjoyed along the way?

Some of the criticisms(expressed by the OECD’s education director) are that the priority should be students having “a good grasp of reading and maths” rather than simply ensuring that all students have access to technology. The other issue is the old “cut and paste” conundrum of plagiarising your way through school. Firstly, how is technology being used to teach reading and maths? If technology is being used simply to replace books, pens and paper then it will add nothing more. My son, who diligently takes his laptop to school each day, said they didn’t actually use them for maths (or science) anyway. They find instructions for their daily tasks but then use pen and paper. So maybe a bit more information on who is using computers for what exactly, would be good here.

On the reading front, there are numerous reading programmes. We’re currently using a reading programme at home – it’s absolutely brilliant. The brilliance is that it uses the technology to make it feel like we’re in the same room as the real life reading tutor (a number of strategies are used including a real, and not a computer generated, voice). Spooky possums. But very effective. It’s also a very well designed programme that is bang on in terms of developing skills associated with good reading habits rather than thinking you can simply “encourage a love of reading” – if you’re not good at it you’re not going to love, ok?! In short, if we’re not seeing improvements in reading, maths and science, then we’re using the technology wrong.   

In relation to cutting and pasting their way through school, in the first instance teachers need to set tasks and homework that encourage the creation of original work. This could sound like the “easier said than done” statement from a non-teacher, but I’m basing my judgement on research into setting assessments plus observations of my son’s teacher (she’s great). And please take the time to teach students about plagiarism. Teach them how to look up information online: how to determine what is good quality and what is not, and how to paraphrase information rather than cutting and pasting. If we don’t teach kids these skills in school we’re simply pushing the problem on to our higher education institutions.

I’m not keen on 5 year olds using iPads to practice writing. I also think there is a real disjoint between the reasonably heavy usage at primary and intermediate and, in contrast, the stark lack of usage at high school. I also think that we really need to make a move on being able to type during exams. I sat an exam myself a few years back, and being able to write by hand lasted 2 hours. Fortunately that was enough, but when you grow up typing and thinking it’s pretty hard to switch back to “old fashioned” handwriting.  

And in all honesty, I’m not keen on statements from the pro-computer use side of the debate either, such as “we’re training them to use technology that hasn’t been invented yet”. Ok… and we’re doing that how exactly?... But here is what I have personally noticed as some unexpected bonuses to using technology both in school and in the home: making movies, documentaries, action films, using special effects, creating stop-motion animations and selecting the font that conveys what is happening in your story. Computers can give kids a real creative outlet – especially those who don’t always automatically thrive under “normal” teaching conditions.

I think paper and pens work well for many tasks at school. But equally, let’s take what we know works in terms of actually teaching students, and transfer some of that knowledge and inspiration into the software our kids use to learn. And let’s get back to the future – get over what a novelty computers in classrooms are (because they’re not) and use them more often for something truly great. 

Murder and betrayal (and other fantasies)

Stoop. Now there’s a word. Never stoop to someone’s level. The level bit conveys quite a lot. Clearly there’s a hierarchy of behaviour and, if my grandmother had any say in the matter, we would always being aiming for the top. But really it’s the word stoop that makes the point. It seems to capture not only the lowering or sinking of standards, but the actual slimy poisonous descent – that miserable journey into the dark morality-free zone. Oooh, can I come too?

In all honesty, I’m more of the goody-good variety. I take the not stooping very seriously. I’m one of those types who attempts to take claiming the high moral ground to new and ever higher places. The good old-fashioned guilt-trip is my weapon of choice. The problem is that most of the time it doesn’t bloody work. Which leads me to wonder whether it’s actually more satisfying doing the wrong thing. You know, maybe just once… Although let’s be clear. I’m not talking about bitch-faced bullying. Rather, the focus is being on the receiving end of extensive and seemingly unrelenting crap and politely wondering if turning the other cheek just isn’t working.

Although one problem is that while I strive to be all things good, I’m actually not. I’ve been involved in terrible, vicious and inappropriate incidences of doing the wrong thing. Unfortunately, I usually fail to notice. I’m brilliant at causing offence, it’s just that I don’t mean to. So as a direct consequence, I fail to enjoy the delicious moment…  Take being a step-mother for example, everything you do is construed as evil simply by definition. We’ve all read the fairy tales; we know how it goes. But I’m usually surprised that what I’ve said or done has been taken badly, and then I’m left feeling perplexed because I genuinely believed being evil would be more fun. Clearly I’m doing it wrong. I need to get good at being bad.  

Betrayal is that curious phenomenon that is defined not just by the actions themselves, but the level of two-facedness involved. Betrayal involves a breach of trust. However, because we inherently trust some people more than others, sometimes it’s the lesser crimes that cause the greatest distress. And while sometimes betrayal is an act of revenge, at other times the initial act is unprovoked. Does the act of original betrayal feel good? Or does betrayal-revenge feel better? All things told, I feel I’m doing neither of these things right.

So what are some acts of betrayal for us to dwell on? Not in a plotting and scheming manner (cough). Just out of neutral and vague interest… There are the classic examples of spies during wartime, people having affairs and others generally going against how you agreed to raise the children… There are people who get married only to sneakily kill their partner for the insurance money and the classic examples of betraying others to gain power. There are even  cases of people pretending to be someone they’re not. Take  the curious court case in England at the moment of the woman taking another woman to court for pretending to be an Asian man tricking her into have sex. ….ok… so maybe we should move on to murder. 

How would I do it? I have never ever considered this question. But you know, now that you ask… Given the number of Agatha Christies I’ve read, I should be an arsenic in the tea type. Although I’d probably get horribly confused about which cup and accidentally drink it myself. In all honesty, I’m probably more of a crimes of passion type. Although I’m not really sure that brutal murder is my thing. Maybe it depends on the day… The freaky thing is that as there are loads of unsolved murders we’ve probably all met a murderer or two in our lifetimes. Maybe it’s that smug git at work who is always smiling – that’d be why…

Although maybe we should be cautious, because betrayal can backfire and leave you a paranoid unhappy wreck like that dude in that Shakespearean play we all had to study at school. But what if the problem was that he was talked into it and then subsequently felt awful. What if it was your own idea? Would you still feel bad? Sadly, I think the closest I will get to murder and betrayal is just simply telling someone what I think of them. But even that can be fraught.

The imagined idea of telling someone what you really think is so far removed from reality as to exist in an entirely different dimension. The ideal goes something like this: You swish in there looking fabulous. You stand tall and feel proud. You give the best darn speech in the history of fabulous “up yours” speeches. It’s witty and insightful with just the perfect amount of put downs (i.e. loads). You finish on a triumphant note while your opponent stands there, shoulders slumped obviously feeling shamed by their odious actions - cue you swanning off with glamour and style.

But part of you knows that the moment you do let rip you’re only going to look like a mad baboon who’s lost the plot. You’ll screech and say really silly things and probably even insult yourself “I know I am but what are you?... damn it!….”. And to top it all off as you turn to leave, imagining that great grand gesture, you’ll bloody trip over something and hurt yourself.

Even if you do manage to tell someone some home truths, it can be curiously unsatisfying, especially if faced with an unrepentant and disinterested foe.  So all things considered, maybe I’ll just take up running. It will be a great way to work off angsty-energy and anger (and hey, who knows, could come in handy for that quick getaway…).

Fartastic (and other words we really need)

Fartastic is actually word. It apparently means the relief experienced after a particularly good fart. As useful as that is, I’d like to propose a new definition: the sarcastic fartastic. Similar to the deadpan “fantastic”– when things simply aren’t – this new meaning will go beyond typical irony-inspired sarcasm to capture those moments that are truly fatuous (or even fartous, I mean why stop at one “f” word?...).

We’re highly skilled at conveying what we think by using our bodies and hands … but our main method of communication is still language. Yet it can often feel like we’re constrained by a lack of words. I remember being in awe of my university lecturer who said that the Inuit have many words for “snow” and, despite its significance in our lives, English has very few for “love”. I thought he was the most brilliant and amazing man until I discovered he’d stolen that insight from Margaret Atwood… Uh-huh. Is there a word for that type of disillusionment?...

Plagiarising other people’s ideas aside, there are words in other languages that we simply don’t have in English - words that manage to concisely capture feelings, emotions and occurrences. And while I’m someone who often doesn’t finish sentences let alone find the right word, I still love to discover new words. (Although sometimes I wonder if I’m rediscovering words I’ve already discovered and then forgotten – is there a word for that?…) There are also some seriously bizarre words that have recently been added to the English language. And many more words that haven’t been added, but should be.   

My favourite words we don’t have in English include the German word Verschlimmbesserung, which is a solution or improvement that actually makes things worse... Yep, we’ve all been there. Shemomedjamo, which is Georgian for when you eat something because it’s so delicious even though you’re full. It translates to “I accidentally ate the whole thing.”  And kummerspeck, which translates to “bacon grief”, and means gaining weight from eating to feel better.  

In terms of new words, I have just discovered resistentialism. Initially a “joke word” it nevertheless captures that spiteful nastiness exhibited by inanimate objects. Think computers shutting down randomly, and cords and cables knotting themselves when you’re not looking. Although my new favourite is kakistocracy which means government by the worst people. A fantastically applicable word (and somehow onomatopoeic!).

Then there are the stupid new words. Well, maybe stupid isn’t the right word… And I should say that fartastic is listed as a word only in the “Urban dictionary” and not the Oxford dictionary (which may be the more “official” guide). However, these words have been listed in the Oxford dictionary: MacGyver (as a verb), swole, butthurt and awesomesauce...  I need a word to describe my shock, horror and the tinge of shame I feel that these can actually be words. To MacGyver means to come up with a solution or fix by using what is available. For example, he MacGyvered a mechanism to dissuade his son from sucking his thumb by taping it with duct tape and inserting a nail at the top... Swole just gives me cold shivers and is essentially using the already existing “swollen” incorrectly. Here is an example sentence from the Oxford online dictionary: “her eyes was so swole you couldn’t see what color they was”. I feel the same about butthurt, which refers to an over-the-top feeling of being wronged (maybe I feel butthurt at the inclusion of swole?). And awesomesauce. Really? It’s supposed to reflect how great something is. But having worked with a colleague who regularly used the phrase, and watched the episode of Parks and Recreation where Andy used the term, I can honestly say “that is not a good word people!”

It’s not that I don’t think we need new words - just perhaps not those ones. Instead, here are some words that I do think we could use: Textpectation, that sense of anticipation when waiting for a text; Nonversation, essentially pointless small talk (I probably like this because I’m so bad at it); and unkeyboardinated, when you can’t type without making mistakes. I’m not clever enough to come up with any actual new words, but here is my personal list of what I think we need words for:

1. The regret felt after saying something to your partner that immediately causes a fight.
2. Excessive worry about what your child will do with their life (and they’re not even a teenager)...
3. The obsessive compulsive desire to check Facebook every three seconds.
4. The kids having showers every day but the soap remaining so unused it’s completely dry and cracked.
5. That moment of angst as you watch an object fall (like when you drop your library book/phone in the bath).
6. When you imagine hypothetical scenarios (what might happen) and then get really angry or sad about what you’ve just imagined…
7. When you put your breakfast down and the cat starts to eat it.
8. Your children asking you something then walking off mid-explanation.
9. When you’re in a relationship, the things that automatically become “his” jobs that he fails to notice.
10. When you say something and get ignored, but then someone else says the same thing and they get listened to.

What’s on your list?

Yoga farts and other health hazards

I would love to be healthy. I’m not totally unhealthy. But I feel I could do more. And I’m surrounded by the constant message that I should be doing more. TV advertisements, newspapers and magazines, they all seem to be peddling the message that the human race has been diverted down a path lined with fatty and sugary foods with the finish line at the lazy couch of sloth. I made the mistake of buying a sports top and now receive constant emails suggesting I increase the intensity and duration of my workouts. Unfortunately, I find that my attempts at improving my health are either misguided or downright dangerous. Take yoga, for example... 

I love yoga. I love the idea of yoga. I love how I feel after yoga. It’s just that I can’t breathe during yoga. Yoga makes me fart. There. I said it. I got it out of my system (as it were…). There is something dreadfully co-incidental about reaching, stretching and loosening the digestive tract. Some moves are diabolical. I mean who can do the extended hand to toe pose (holding your foot and raising your leg in the air) without causing a back-end blowout?

I always found that once a bottom burp was brewing, it required enormous concentration not to let it leak. There you are with feet, arms and arse all in the air at different times trying to breathe, pose and ultimately relax. It’s a highly disciplined body that can add “hold in fart” to that mix. Yet while I would leave my yoga class slightly bent over and with terrible tummy trauma, other people wouldn’t, if you know what I mean… And the only thing worse that your own excruciatingly awful fragrance being let lose during yoga, is somebody else’s.

Being active and heathy is often harder than it seems. There’s the lack of time and general daily exhaustion that can limit healthy endeavours. And then there are those dreadful scenarios: the things that go horribly bad when we’re trying to be good. For example, combining high fibre drinks with a Zumba class is just asking for trouble… And as an accident as well as fart-prone person, I have to be doubly careful. I used to love skipping, but gave up because of the number of times I hit myself in the face with the rope. I also tried a couple of energetic aerobics classes (sorry, Bodystep) and discovered I was insanely uncoordinated and couldn’t follow instructions. And I don’t go jogging in public for everyone’s benefit…

However, what maybe even worse than flailing limbs, bruises and the noxious fumes caused by rectal turbulence, are the “heathy” things we do and later discover they’re not. Raw eggs anyone? That Rocky inspired health craze of the 1980s. Although watch out for the salmonella… And there are some incredible fad diets: eating only carrots, the grapefruit diet and uh, eating clay... Yummo.

The other day, in an attempt to improve myself, I watched a documentary on sugar. It confirmed a lot of what I already knew, such as the prevalence of ridiculously ironic products like “health drinks”. But I was disturbed to discover that there are high levels of sugar in foods we’re told are healthy – especially those described “low-fat”. Sigh. The documentary left me a bit confused about what was healthy to eat. Certainly not all the “health foods”... But fat seemed to come out the winner. So it IS ok if I always eat chips for lunch?... Is salt ok now too?

Attempting to be healthy has never seemed so vexed or fraught. With conflicting advice peppered with our own anxieties, approaches and varying tendencies to cut the cheese… All up, I think my favourite epic health fail comes from my grandmother. She always seemed to be balancing her love of food with the latest advice on why not to eat it. And once (with the help of her sister) ate an entire tin of sweetened condensed milk in an attempt to prevent further sugary cravings. Um… yeah, nice try grandma… 

All in all, when working out how to be healthy, I find myself drawn to the research that says coffee, chocolate and alcohol are all good for you... But ultimately I think I’ll follow the advice on a poster my sister once had: “I’ve read so much about the dangers of smoking, drinking and overeating that I’ve decided to give up reading”… Probably the safest choice.

Why bad luck loves deadlines

There’s an unexpected and urgent deadline. You’re thinking well that might be tight. But with effort and determination you’re sure you can do it. You take some deep breaths. Focus. You can complete 5 hours of work in 2. You’ll work hard, yet remain calm and composed. But that’s not what happens. That’s never what happens.

If it was just a matter of dealing with the deadline there wouldn’t be a problem. Sure you’d be a bit frantic and stressed, but it would be manageable. You wouldn’t suffer heart palpitations or good old fashioned rage. The thing is, you’re never dealing with just the deadline. It’s the random bad luck that comes with the deadline that causes the biggest problems. It seems inevitable that as soon as your stress levels rise everything turns to custard. Loathsome lumpy custard. When I was a child my mum made (white) vanilla custard and my brother said it looked like pus-tard. That’s about sums it up.

Picture this. Me, this morning, I find out about a surprise deadline. I thought, well it’s going to be tough but I think I can make it. I was full of optimism and determination. I leapt out of bed, making a beeline for my home-office, and immediately stood in cat vomit. I stood still for a moment, trying to locate my inner calm. I then discovered more piles. I decided to temporarily ignore the vomit and just get on with my work. The cats won’t stop me I heroically thought as I tripped over the smaller one.

I (eventually) made it into my home-office and connected various cables. I have a large monitor, a tiny monitor and crap eyes. The big monitor wasn’t working. It was just all red. I’m used to the blue screen of death. And even the grey screen of indifference. But what’s this? The red screen of up-your-nose-with-a-rubber-hose? Typical. I felt a rush of stress, anger and had a brief tantrum. Then I persevered and continued with my job that involves serious attention to detail while squinting earnestly at a tiny screen. On the upside, I only experienced two random problems. And if it wasn’t them, it would have been some other random events attempting to derail my determination to complete a job.

What is it about deadlines that makes bad luck flock to them like seagulls to fish and chips? Last time I had a deadline I lost access to the internet right at the crucial moment. I used to have a theory that computers could sense increasing stress levels and start behaving badly. Sounds crazy, but it’s really common to have a computer crash or to lose your files while frantically working to a deadline.  

Sometimes the act of being stressed creates the extra problems we experience. Like when you’re running late so you rush then trip. The self-inflicted variety also applies to bad luck experienced when hungover. One time, many moons ago, when my partner was hungover to the point of still being completely off his trolley, he thought he’d go to work and well, work it off. To feel a bit more normal and awake, he made himself a good strong cup of coffee. He sat down to drink it and promptly poured it on his crotch. He then bent over and whacked his head on the table. If that wasn’t punishment enough, he managed to drop the mug on the floor so crawled under the table to retrieve it. While trying to stand, he banged his head again, finally stood up, caught his shirt on the table and ripped the pocket clean off. He took it as a sign and went home...

But what about when you haven’t inadvertently brought the bad luck upon yourself? Why, with good will and honest intentions, is it always just lurking in the background waiting for deadline stress to occur? Murphy’s Law is often used to explain such bad luck: what can go wrong will go wrong. I can see that this inevitable law of life certainly does have some explanatory power. An awful example happened to a friend of mine on her night out. She was all dolled up and looking glamorous, feeling really excited but also slightly stressed that she might bump into her ex. She made a stylish exit from the taxi, stood in front of the nightclub, glanced around spying her ex and wham, the taxi drove off with her dress caught in the door. She was left standing outside the nightclub in a dress ripped in half and her underwear showing. Yep. Definitely Murphy’s Law.  

I’m wondering though, whether there has to be an ironic connection linking events for them to qualify as Murphy’s Law: embarrassing disaster in front of an ex-partner or rain at a picnic, for example. Otherwise it can all get a bit random. If Aliens land and take over the world will we just shrug and say that’s just Murphy’s Law?…  Maybe there are other forces ensuring that everything works completely fine until there is a looming and unexpected deadline. There could be an extra law for deadlines of course. But I actually tend to think that the only possible, feasible and realistic explanation is that we’re all characters is a funny novel. Everything happens for comedic effect. And someone somewhere is laughing. 

Short-changed: Are upgrades aging our brains?

We love to hate change. The thought of change instils fear and loathing. Although, equally, most of us have long lists of ideas to improve our lives, workplaces and wardrobes. We’re faced with change and choices every day of our lives. But is all of it necessary? Is all of it good? There is an abundance of help on managing change. Cutting some of the preppy advice and jargon, the key issues are control, necessity and dealing with difference. The same core issues apply to software upgrades. My main question today is why, Microsoft, why?

Windows 10, the computer operating system, is here. So let’s start celebrating. 67 million people have installed Windows 10 . And now me (on my Surface). But I realise I’m going against mainstream opinion here, including the views of my techy partner, when I scream what have you done to my life Microsoft?! 

There’s a clear division in our household. My partner has been counting down to Windows 10 for weeks. He loves technology and new gadgets and couldn’t wait for the upgrade. I wasn’t opposed to it, but to say I was even vaguely intrigued would be to grossly exaggerate my level of interest. That might be part of the problem of course. Research into age and technology acceptance shows that our level of perceived interest in technology has an impact on how we accept (or reject) it. They highlight that the “young at heart” are more likely to adopt, use and enjoy technology. Clearly, as the research shows, I’m an old fart.  

I’m not adverse to change generally speaking. And for a big chunk of my life I thought of myself as a “change junkie”: moving city and job regularly just to keep life interesting. And while not a follower of technological change, I certainly appreciate advancements. I love the amazingly clear images of flatscreen TVs. I also enjoy the convenience of having a phone that takes high quality photos and can access the internet, email and, oh yes, make phone calls (if anyone does that anymore). I also love my Surface. For me, being able to swap between keyboard, mouse and touch screen is the optimum way to navigate everything I’m trying to do at once.

So why don’t I like software upgrades? Why am I so against the tide of public opinion? The reviews for Windows 10 are overwhelmingly positive. The top tech reviewers say: “Windows 10 delivers a refined, vastly improved vision for the future of computing”, “pleasant to use”, and the gushing “Windows 10 is wonderful”.  And of course my partner thinks it’s great. I’m surrounded by hideous enthusiasm. I feel like a boring old curmudgeon; a grumpy old man just like my dad yelling “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” when someone tries to explain the functionality of his new phone.  

Maybe it’s something to do with control, or the perceived lack of it. I didn’t think the previous version was perfect. But to be honest, I got used to it. And none of the changes that have been made with this new version have anything to do with improving what I do. I note (with slightly raised eyebrows) that the reviews describe the amazing “fresh features” as the new name for Explorer (it’s now called “Edge”…) a voice-controlled “virtual assistant” and, wait for it, “the ability to stream real-time games to your desktop from an Xbox One in another room”. Oh, wow, that will be really handy in no situation ever! Yep. I’m feeling old again.    

So I have absolutely no control over the change (although I would uninstall it if I knew how …) and a limited appreciation of why it was necessary. Everything I once did automatically on a daily, hourly and in fact pretty much constant basis, has changed. Where icons are placed has shifted and how I navigate between applications is fundamentally different. And exasperatingly, the colour of icons are different AND the icons themselves have changed. This is big news for people like me, because colours matter and I’ve been programmed to identify apps quickly, without much thought, based on colour and image. Ultimately, the upshot is that I have to relearn the basics!

One of the most frustrating issues is that what didn’t work before still doesn’t work. Bluetooth switching off, for example. But to fix the problems I now have a different dance of swipe, click, swipe to fathom. It feels like pointless busywork. And all of this endless re-learning of the basics is making me feel like my brain is being zapped of vital energy and power - my brain is growing older.

I should say that pointless change aging my brain is the perception of feeling “old and tired”, rather than suggesting that being “old” equals being technologically deficient. Everyone has stories of writing step-by-step instructions for the new mobile or video recorder for that older relative… But, while it might be broadly true that the older we get the more resistant to change we become, it’s actually more complicated than simple cause and effect. For example, some research shows that being open to new experiences declines during mid-life, but increases again once we reach our 60s. The reasoning is that with fewer responsibilities (raising children, paying mortgages) comes a greater appreciation of what’s new and different. 

This lack of control and sense of unnecessary change is impacting on my ability to deal with difference. It’s like I’ve just moved house and every simple thing I try to do, like grab a knife out of a kitchen drawer, takes me longer than it should. I find myself endlessly reaching for the wrong spot – the place where it used to be. And it’s not like I can think “well, at least I’m in a new house” because, quite frankly, I preferred the old one. The short and polite statement here is that I’m not dealing with it very well... Possibly because I feel that Microsoft have added an extra cognitive burden to my day.  

“Cognitive load” is the idea that if tasks are difficult, planned badly or not intuitive, the mental effort (working memory) required to undertake the task can become more onerous than the task itself. In short, if cognitive load is high you’ll waste valuable brain power on pointless actions – which in turn has an impact on comprehension, problem solving and levels of analysis. Research also confirms that mental fatigue can be caused by daily events of cognitive overload, possibly even progressing to worse conditions. Hrrumph.   

Messing with the basics means what had become automatic unthinking actions now require as much brain power as what I actually need to think about. The grumpy old person in me says it’s giving me headaches, I’m becoming crotchety and my brain is starting to melt. I’ll probably get used to the new version. But at this point in time, while the Windows 10 upgrade might have been free, I feel I’ve been short-changed...

Living inside outside upside down

I don’t intentionally live my life inside outside upside down. It just seems to happen. A lot. I’m insanely clumsy. I frequently do the opposite of what I’m trying to achieve. I get words round the wrong way. And I blurt out the wrong thing. To the wrong person. A lot.  

I’m the queen of banging into things. Doorways, tables, people. My peripheral vision is dreadful. Sometimes I think there’s something wrong with my whiskers. And yes I do need glasses. I’m usually wearing them at the time. I also accidentally throw objects. I’ll pick something up and rather than hold it in my hand, like any normal person, I’ll let it go mid-swing. I’ll even accidentally bat things away while trying to pick them up. And when I’m reaching into a drawer, I’ll bash my unsuspecting fingers into the side or other objects. I find yelling and swearing helps…

I’m also very good at being distracted. I have this incredible capacity to be going through the motions while thinking about something else entirely. But unlike most people who can do this quite convincingly, I stuff it up completely. I have been known to make myself a cup of tea and a cup of coffee at the same time (I wanted coffee). If I’m carrying two things, recycling and rubbish for example, I will absolutely put the wrong one in each bin. Even if I try and control my natural urges (to be completely backwards) by doing one thing at a time, I’ll still get it wrong. I’ll carry an armload of washing past the laundry and into the lounge, where I will inevitably stand blinking uncertainly for a few seconds trying to remember who I am and what I’m doing, wait for the moment of enlightenment then walk back through the house the way I just came... 

Being clumsy and distracted is apparently something you can fix. It’s considered by some as the sign of a sluggish brain. (Great.) Clumsiness and distraction are also exacerbated by stress. That’s likely in my case. I find if there’s constant low level worry in my mind, or if something big is actively bothering me, I’ll be worse than usual (and usual is bad enough). Also, unlike those who love being the centre of attention and who seriously adore the limelight, I’m far more likely to stumble over my words or even tumble down the stairs if I think anyone is looking my way. Apparently, you’re also more likely to be clumsy if you’re attempting to do too many things at once or too quickly. Again, that’s me. Developing a more mindful approach, improving memory and speeding up the brain’s reaction is apparently the key here. So maybe there is hope for the habitual daydreamer, the permanently pre-occupied and those suffering “chronic inattentiveness”.

Although I was slightly disheartened to also learn that physical clumsiness is connected with overall mental clumsiness, including what you say. In a questionnaire designed to determine the level of individual “cognitive failure” (aka clumsiness) was this question: “Do you say something and realize afterwards that it might be taken as insulting?” Well in my case that’s an absolute yes. Although it’s more like to be did you say something and realise as the words were coming out your mouth that it might be taken as insulting…

Blurting out unwelcome truths has become an unfortunate way of life. I once told a proud new mother that her designer, expensive and very impressive pram looked like a tent. I actually intended to pay her a compliment. I didn’t. On another occasion I managed to offensively tell my Japanese friend that our children playing in the park looked like Kamikaze pilots... I never EVER refer to Kamikaze pilots. Why brain, WHY?...

Ultimately, despite my many and obvious failings, I’d like to think of myself as the stylishly eccentric type. Odd but “in a good way” - managing to be off-beat and off-centre with style and panache. I’d like to think that but I’d be wotally tong. Another topsy turvey trait. Getting words the wrong way round. Transposing letters is called a Spoonerism (you can transpose the first letter or even parts of the sounds). It’s named after William Archibald Spooner. And no we don’t name people like we used to…  And if you’re wondering, like me, how on earth someone gets the surname Spooner… it comes from manufacturing or using curved roof tiles, but I gridess…

Spoonerisms can be insightful and witty. Bet you can’t say knucking fackered without snickering… but mine are usually silly and make me sound drunk, at 2 in the afternoon. I’ve always been verbally challenged. Possibly my brain’s tendency to race and my tongue’s inability to keep up. As a child I remember excitedly announcing to my friend that we were having mippie and charmite sandwiches for lunch. And on one dreadful occasion at work I accidentally referred to colleagues and Blowass and Lulia. Although that was possibly Freudian as well…

On a positive note, living inside outside and upside down is catching. And observing clumsiness in others is funny... I wasn’t the one in our house who tipped their entire plate of Bolognese into the onion bowl while reaching for the salt.  And once when my partner was trying to show empathy to one of his friends it all went its tup: everything he said came out wrong. The ultimate moment of triumph (as it wasn’t) was at the end of the call when he said “well I hope it all goes bad for you… I mean well, WELL for you…” a situation probably not helped by me lolling about with raughter as I cistened to the lall.

Poltergeist heist: Who are you really going to call?

You know the story. Loud banging noises but nothing has moved. Clocks falling from the wall. Dishes tumbling off the bench. The landline, which no-one is using, suddenly shouting incomprehensibly. And those weird instances of hands going pinch and poke in the night. We’ve got a ghost. A poltergeist. That pesky type of ghost causing trouble: robbing us of our sanity and sleep.

It started off being a joke. We’d just moved in. It seemed fun to have “our ghost” who we could blame for any accidental breakage. Our ghost was definitely the friendly variety, just wanting to occasionally let us know it was there. But then things changed. Things became really weird. And the worst part is, while I might joke and pretend, I don’t actually believe in ghosts.

When it comes to vague ideas about “spirituality”, I’m all there. I have no black or white views. I tend to think, broadly speaking, lots of things happen that we don’t understand. And sometimes we get cold shivers and discover we’re in a location where people have died, or we think about someone the very moment that something happens to them. And I can certainly joke, and half believe, that we have a spiritual presence in our house. But when push comes to shove, as it were, I really struggle to accept that paranormal activity actually happens. I tentatively told a friend about our “ghost” and she said encouragingly “have you seen all those photos of people with ghosts on the internet?”. Yes, I said. But I think it’s all bollocks.

Despite the series of unexplained events, I’m steadfastly now avoiding the idea of a ghost. Possibly because to believe in the paranormal would be to start disbelieving in some very basic science. It seems illogical and irrational. Not to mention scary. Some of the things that have happened include being woken in the middle of the night. I’ve been woken by what feels like someone pinching my nose so I can’t breathe. I’ve also been woken by what feels like hands placed gently on my eyes. I’ve even felt the shape of the palm and the fingers. I have boldly refused to let it bother me and even told my friend: “well it doesn’t matter what the ghost does to me, because they’ll probably do worse to my partner.”  A few days after I said that I woke in the morning to a sleepy, relaxed, dishevelled and slightly sheepish partner who said “I just had the best dream”. Yep, I thought… how typical…

Another weird thing was sensing the cat walk across the pillow behind my head, to then discover the cat wasn’t in the room. You’re probably thinking I’m a strange deranged lunatic at this point; I often think that too… But, here’s the catch. The telephone talking, the loud banging, the giant heavy pillow moving from one side of the bed to the other in the middle of the night, and the loud knock on our bedroom door at 2am didn’t happen to me. They were experienced by others in the house. Are you hearing scary music? I feel there should be scary music...

A “ghost” is essentially the spirit or soul of a dead person. It’s an old word (been used for about 500 years), is of Germanic origin and the belief in souls itself is ancient. The term paranormal covers activities for which there is no scientific explanation. The key here though is that while currently beyond the scope or realm of scientific understanding, they may well be understood in the future. On the other hand, supernatural suggests that we will never be able to explain or understand them (think “miracles” and “the divine”).

It’s hard to know what to think. There’s a branch of psychology called “transpersonal studies” which is essentially spiritual psychology. Although they tend to research the levels of belief that people have (using the paranormal belief scale) rather than the occurrences themselves. There are also as many books supporting the existence of ghosts as there are books reasoning they don’t exist.

But sometimes you get sick of coming up with rational and scientifically based reasons for random unexpected events. What if you decided to come up with one reason to explain everything – the ghost who wants attention? What do you do then? In short, who are you going call? Well, as it turns out, there are people you can contact. If you go to the NZ ghost story Facebook page you can be put in touch with paranormal forensic investigation teams. You can even sign up for a ghost hunt. Although, and I found this as weird as the events themselves, the easiest thing to do in the first instance is Ask the Internet because there is a step-by-step guide (with pictures) on how to get a ghost out of your house on WikiHow.

Compared to most sites which actually do have the accompanying “scary” music (a brilliant reminder of Jack Palance saying “believe it or not”) WikiHow, at first glance, appears reasonably matter of fact. Step one sensibly involves eliminating non-supernatural factors. For example, the possibility that your “ghost” is caused by infrasound (sound too low for humans to hear). They also helpfully highlight that if you live near a dump then you should watch for methane gas “giving a smell of brimstone and bursts of fire”. If you are still reading the entry… the suggestion is to then get a psychiatric assessment completed. However, if you manage to eliminate other explanations, prove you’re not mad and have other witnesses to the weirdness, then they suggest you politely (but confidently) ask your ghost to leave. If that fails, you could try an exorcism (with the note that it only works if you’re Christian). They also suggest that you clean your house. Well that’s it, I’m stuck with that ghost for life.

Fortunately there are sensible opinions provided by different groups (the Committee for Sceptic Enquiry, for example) about how to interpret the uneasy sense that something you don’t understand is happening. One of the Committee’s key messages is that a belief in ghosts stems from misinterpreting what has been seen. Lights being reflected in mirrors rather than ghostly apparitions, and pianos playing by themselves because of temperature changes. They also draw reasonably compelling parallels between notoriously unreliable evidence from eyewitnesses to crimes, and people who believe they have seen, felt or otherwise experienced a strange paranormal event.

I do think though, that the slightly disconcerting thing when odd things happen is that they are odd precisely because there is no observed scientific explanation. It is possibly even ironic that because of the lack of witnessed evidence we can only have faith that there is a sound and scientific explanation. But there it is. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I wish science would stop waking me up in the middle of the night.

Stop the beeping beep: Do our appliances have to nag?

Sounds are subjective. What is literally music to my ears can be someone else’s headache. Especially when there is a generation gap... (Five Seconds of Rubbish is an expression used pointedly by someone in our house.) When, where and why we hear sounds also has an impact. Birds chirping can seem magical if you’re awake, on holiday and the sun is shining but diabolical if it’s 4am and your cat just brought one inside. There are also sounds which are ultimately just unpleasant noise – think circular saws, lawn mowers, or the sound of a jack hammer hitting concrete.

While many sounds, pleasant or otherwise, are naturally occurring we also live with an increasing amount of created noise: electronic beeps, pips and parps. In fact, most days it can seem that the sounds that surround us are artificial: the smoke alarm, dishwasher, microwave, washing machine and in our case a recently purchased heater.

There’s an awful lot of research behind the pitch, loudness and general well, sound, of that scientifically designed din. For example, the dog whistle, which lets loose a sound that we (fortunately) can’t hear, has been around for almost 140 years And there’s research into the history of how different pitches and different sounds have been used for different purposes. Just think of the smoke alarm. That sound is extremely loud but is also pitched so that it is hard to ignore. Similarly, the beeps the smoke alarm emits when the battery is getting low are relatively quiet, but still spectacularly annoying. It’s a noise that you can’t ignore, and in that case, for good reason. However, do all our appliances need to spur us into action? Are appliances trying to tell us something? Do they really need to imply that we should get our lazy selves up off the couch and do the next chore? No-one ever asked for honesty from their appliance...

Noisy appliances has been a hot topic for a few years now. And I’m not altogether sure if the call to tone down our sassy and bold appliances has been listened to, or if our penchant in our house for retro appliances means we live in some 1950s largely beep free Utopia. Most of our appliances beep to some extent, but the old fashioned knobs and dials make far more familiar ticking and tocking noises, so the beeping is largely kept to a minimum. Beeping is also usually reserved for a useful function, like the microwave or dishwasher quietly letting you know they’ve finished. However, the two really big exceptions to that rule are our washing machine and the new heater.

The pitch of the beep on the washing machine is really loud and has a seriously demanding quality. You can hear it from any room in the house and in fact you can still hear it while outside hanging out the washing. Two things annoy me about the beep – the pitch of the noise and the fact that it doesn’t stop when you open the door and take the clothes out. And that noise, right up close, is not pleasant. But, not to dismiss that annoyance, the heater is something else altogether. The purchase of our heater breaks with our retro tradition – it’s sleek and futuristic and beeps like a beeping spaceship, or someone’s idea of one. Not only does it beep loudly and earnestly when you switch it on (like you’re using a control panel in some major spacecraft and about to enter warp speed) it then makes some very strange whiney alarm noises. Not the best in the middle of the night. They appeared to be saying “I’ve woken you up to tell you I’m up to heat, so now you can relax and go back to sleep”. How thoughtful. The people who manufacture the heater also make house alarms, so maybe they are slightly addicted to the beeping.

So why do our appliances beep? One reasonable explanation is that the beeping is to let us know that something is happening. The beeps are aural cues to let us know we have indeed switched something on, individual buttons are working and that the relevant cycle has finished. I also read a fascinating theory about beeping that suggested the beeps were designed to mimic sounds represented in science fiction. I find this intriguing and I’m sure it partially explains the noises our modern and sleek heater makes. Unfortunately most of the article was written in German, so I’m largely none the wiser…

I’m the first to confess that this is undoubtedly a first world problem. However, with so many of us on quests to simplify, purify and de-stress our lives, we could possibly imagine ways to make our homes calmer, quieter and more comforting spaces. Noise pollution, and increasing intolerance to noise, is also a vexing increasing issue.

The main question that I’m going to throw out there to manufacturers, is do our appliances have to make any noise? And my suggestion, if they do, is that maybe we could choose the sound? Similar to how we can choose ringtones and other notifications, maybe we could choose from a selection of options or even download the precise calming notification we wanted: pipe music or the calming flute to say the washing machine had finished. Even better if we could record our own voices telling someone else it was their turn to unload the machine. I would always choose that notification, always.