Friday, December 31, 2010

Ennui, Ennui, Ennui

During the winter I don't do much. I work a lot on my multitasking - I read, nap, listen to music, nap, watch T.V. and nap. I've been trying to get the kitchen chairs refurbished. As Kurt said, "Restoring one chair seems like fun. Five seems like work". I have four minor bicycle projects that don't seem to be getting done because of my multitasking. Blogs by their very nature are boring. So obviously you're bored too, or you'd be somewhere else. From the Wall Street Journal:

Boredom Enthusiasts Discover the Pleasures of Understimulation

LONDON—"Brace yourself for five piping-hot minutes of inertia," said William Barrett. Then he began reciting the names of every single one of 415 colors listed in a paint catalog: damson dream, dauphin, dayroom yellow, dead salmon…and on and on and on. 

Mr. Barrett's talk was titled, "Like Listening to Paint Dry," and to judge from the droopy faces in the audience, it was a hit. He was speaking, after all, at a conference of boredom enthusiasts called Boring 2010, held here Dec. 11.

Not many did, surprisingly. "It is quintessentially English to look at something dull as ditchwater and find it interesting," said Hamish Thompson, who runs a public-relations firm and was in the audience.For seven hours on that Saturday, 20 speakers held forth on a range of seemingly dreary diversions, from "The Intangible Beauty of Car Park Roofs" and "Personal Reflections on the English Breakfast," to "The Draw in Test Match Cricket" and "My Relationship With Bus Routes." Meanwhile, some of the 200 audience members—each of whom had paid £15 (about $24) for a ticket—tried not to nod off.  Link for the rest of this boring prattle.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Actually this all sounds pretty intriguing to me. I've long wondered who gets hired to name paint colors. Had I ever seen an application for that job, I might have sought it. And my current research project is all about ditchwater . . . and I'm only partly English by heritage. Of course my English ancestors came from the fens, where ditchwater abounds. My favorite cure for insomnia is reading the phonebook, but sometimes the variety of names--and the proliferation of some--rouses me awake. Why so many Wangens in Freeborn County and hardly any elsewhere in Minnesota? Do the Vangs in St. Paul outnumber the Mouas? See how it goes?