Excessively Dangerous Thing

Ah, the generic “first post” nonsense that accompanies each install of anything web-related. The humility of the expression “hello world”, the optimism of the automatically generated “first post” in the “new object”, the unassailable sense of the PR-filled schmaltz you get assaulted with just for doing something new. Give me that baby grow, pureé in a tube and the bottle of internet mineralised psuedo-milk because when you add something new to your page, you are no longer a man; you are a newbie.

The first act any newbie tends to undertake is deny the fact that they have absolutely no clue what’s going on whatsoever. So, here it is. I’ve done some php before, some SQL before, plenty of HTML before and CSS is kinda logical anyway. Me? Nub? No way. Absolutely not. Should I whistle to change the subject? I’m in control, this is fine and dandy.

The second act any newbie embroils himself in is the abuse of customisation facilities. Change the default colours to an affront to taste and decency, in the vain hope that previously-damaged eyes (or in some cases, “self-gauged from the pain of the 16 colours of “16 colours” fame” eyes). Distort the layout with more concern for originality than usability, with an artistic leaning towards cubism when it comes to locating features. Rotate the default link colours because you always hated blue and red, thinking that slightly weaker versions of the two colours (pushing the 16 towards 256) would look better before exchanging them so that people don’t know which links they’ve visited, yet to see or already have open without following that piece of string back to Google. Long story short, change the stylings of the page to a labyrinth you don’t know the shape of, with distorted concepts of where and what the walls and passageways are and where every page looks like as hideous as the blasted minotaur, with effects on your eyes more like the Medusa.

Yes, this does mean that if someone calls my viewpoint “Legendary” I will take it with enough salt to preserve my body for several millenia and cause me to be unearthed on Time Team with a repulsive gurn; but I digress.

The Third Act of newbie-hood - as the oratory First Act of this blog turns into a ramble closer to the Third Act of Henry V - is to assert why you are fantastic, better than everyone else with logic containing more flaws than… the integrity of something dislikable (yes, it’s a wildcard, but at least instead of being political it’s open-ended and perhaps to an extent interactive). This clashes with the entire “repressed Brit” mentality that’s been beaten into me with the textbooks and footballs of the educational mangle. If I make a claim to superiority, I’m trying too hard and so am poorly-bred and destined to be pelted with pieces of The Times before attending a counselling session with a teapot, a couch and upper lips stiff enough to act as a shoehorn whilst licking the proverbial, metaphorical or actual filth off a superior’s shoes. Or so the stereotype would have you believe. Nowadays it’s being a “thicko” beaten with ringbinders and baseball bats, destined to be pelted with pieces of celeb magazines before attending a dysfunctional state health system hospital with a skeleton pummeled to the point of invertebrate-hood whilst being adhered to someone else’s shoes with the loss of teeth. Or so the chav stereotype would have you believe.

Anyway, now I have the formalities of the newbie statements out of the way, a new skin will be generated at some point once I’ve got exams out of the way. At least that’s a rant waiting to happen. Hello world, we’ve landed. On your toes. Without apologising. Natch.