Project 313 – Post No. 044

Living halfway around the world, very little of my time is spent thinking about the European Union. In fact, I’m not even sure who or what  “European Union” actually is. I think it’s something like a vague notion put into half-baked practice but don’t quote me on it. Like I said; I hardly think about it. 

Except for these days; these days, the European Union — Union in name only — is making itself aware in the form of GDPR. Not a day goes by that I don’t get a notice from one or more InterWeb sites to read and agree to new privacy regulations.  

Here’s the gist of it . . . because most InterWeb sites are — and want to be — global, they have to abide by the European Union’s new rules regarding privacy and data collection and data sharing. 

Here’s what I like and why I’m not that upset . . . sites currently e-mailing me stuff need me to specifically agree that they can keep mailing me stuff. Any site that in the past required some form of registration has to now ask for permission to keep using my information. Heck, to date, some of the notices I’ve received are from sites I’ve not used in years and which I had forgotten about. 

I’m not upset about GDPR because I no longer have to futilely click on the unsubscribe button; now, by just ignoring the privacy notice, those places will have to drop me from their e-mail rolls. Sites I have no interest in will have to dump my information. 

Thank you, Europe . . . wherever you are. 

Wait . . . since I’m not an EU citizen, not all GDPR provision apply to me. In fact, none do. But, again, because most sites are global, it’s easier for companies to treat everyone the same as opposed to determining which rules apply to which people. So, yes, my e-mail’s inbox will clear up . . . but I’m not sure companies will also be forced to remove my data because I live in the US and here everyone is a product to be harvested, packaged, and sold. 

And now, the photo:

Project 313 044

That’s another example of old photos finding new life because of processing options that came available in the last few years.

That particular scene has a lot of information and a wide range of light and shadow but in a narrow spectrum of color — mostly, green.

Don’t get me wrong; I could definitively process the photo in such a way that it looked great and had impact and structure and presence . . . if viewed on a large platform like a 30-inch monitor. But, take that photo and look at it on a smaller screen and it reduced to an unremarkable green mess. 

I could have done what I did above — pushed the colors — but the rules are not the same for a photo as they are for a painting. Pushing the colors on a photo makes the photo unrealistic; it jars the senses and it’s immediately recognized as artificial; as fake; as a lie. 

But, do the same as I did above, make it a bit like a painting, and we now “know” no one is trying to fool us. No; we’re given something that our brains will interpret as an artistic rendition of a real scene. But, the brain does more . . . it interprets that artistic representation back into the actual scene; it accepts the very same colors that if appearing in a photo would seem jarring. Not only that, but it interprets them as pleasant.

The reality is that if we were to be magically transported to that place, it would look like something like THIS. Say, you know what? I just realized I don’t have a gallery of photos from that particular trip through the Smokey Mountains. Hmm . . . another thing I’ll have to remedy before I die. 

Anyway, which do we prefer? Real or artsy? I guess it depends on the person and how big a screen they are viewing. From my (limited) experience, the artsy presentation is likelier to be appreciated precisely because it’s an exaggeration but one not in conflict with our mind’s eye.

And now, more Mr. Boffo goodness. 

Yes, those don’t look like ruby slippers, but close enough. By the way, the actual ruby slippers look to me more like ruby shoes; ruby medium-heel shoes. Same for Cinderella’s glass slippers . . . they have a heel and there’s no indication of them being fuzzy or sporting a bunny face. 

Being one of them non-native citizens, I imagine the reason they are called slippers is that they lack laces and buckles and are, instead, “slipped” on to wear. I suppose the language has changed a bit since back then since “slippers” now have a different connotation. 

I wonder if I walk into a store and ask about leather slippers I’d be directed to the display of fine gloves?

The doodle is a continuation of the previous doodle, or rather, a different incarnation of it . . . Meh! Supernova Remnant.

Meh! Supernova Remnant

And . . . that’s it

Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.

You can read about Project 313 HERE.

That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.

<><><><><><><><o><><><><><><><><><o><><><><><><><>

Note: if you are not reading this blog post at DisperserTracks.com, know that it has been copied without permission, and likely is being used by someone with nefarious intention, like attracting you to a malware-infested website.  Could be they also torture small mammals.

<><><><><><><><o><><><><><><><><><o><><><><><><><>

Please, if you are considering bestowing me recognition beyond commenting below, refrain from doing so.  I will decline blogger-to-blogger awards.   I appreciate the intent behind it, but I prefer a comment thanking me for turning you away from a life of crime, religion, or making you a better person in some other way.  That would mean something to me.

If you wish to know more, please read below.

About awards: Blogger Awards
About “likes”:   Of “Likes”, Subscriptions, and Stuff

Note: to those who may click on “like”, or rate the post; if you do not hear from me, know that I am sincerely appreciative, and I thank you for noticing what I do.

. . .  my FP ward  . . . chieken shit.

Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.