Let me tell you something that your shrink won't no matter how much you pay: Don't let a 13-year-old girl watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I realized how dangerous it can get when I was back home making fun of my cousin's pictures on Facebook as she told me that she wanted to dye her hair green. Looking at her pictures, I also realized that people-or at least my cousin and her friends-don't really know how to take good pictures. Therefore here are some basic problems with amateur photographers and solutions I'd suggest:
My Parents Don't Understand Me So I Better Take a Picture of Myself!
This is probably a 13-year-old girl who, when it comes to taking a picture of herself, obviously sucks. Puberty is a tough process, I know. Even though only thing you do is slam doors in people's faces for no reason, not all of the guys can make it through. However, that doesn't mean that you should go and take a picture of yourself. And if you really do need to take one, then follow my instructions: Taking a good picture of yourself depends very much on analyzing the shape of your nose. So before you start shooting, practice
several angles in front of a mirror to see which one suits your nose-if any. For instance, it's impossible for me to do that without the help of an expert. But thank God, I've got friends who know how to use Photoshop. If you are having such problems too, then either find an altruistic friend like mine or simply Google "how to fix a nose in Photoshop." But my advice would be not to bother.
On the other hand, I'm aware of the fact that most of you guys are into your 20s, so what I'd really appreciate is to read out what I'm about to say loudly every time you see a teenager (It would also be a nice gesture if you could e-mail this to all your friends): Guys, please just don't grab the camera nearest you to take a picture of yourself whenever you feel that your parents don't really get you and you are an outsider. Instead, do what normal people do, go shopping; because the Web is filled with useless, mass-produced pictures of you, which can easily be reduced to two or three (Scientists are working on this).
It's A Bird... It's A Plane... It's Superman… No It's a Tourist Who Thinks He Looks Cool!
This one is one of the later stages of the disease that the 13-year-old-girl got where we gradually lose our hope for the patient. What do these guys think when taking such pictures like holding up the leaning Tower of Pisa? Does she think it looks original? Does the guy in brown really believe his co-workers would like it? Does the other guy behind them seriously think that his 7-year-old son would laugh a lot? So what? Anything can make a 7-year-old laugh.
I haven't checked any statistics but I'm sure it would say that Italy is exposed to thousands of tourists every year who are there solely for taking those pictures. What is even worse is that it takes 5 minutes to take that picture and then those people, to whom I'd like to refer to as pseudo-tourists, have four days more to spend which they wouldn't be expecting. It would be a good investment if some entrepreneurs could contrive daily tours to Tower of Pisa just to take cliché "holding up the leaning Tower of Pisa" pictures.
The difficulty with the photographs is that there are so many of them that it's almost impossible to be original. Therefore I don't really expect any of you to evolve into a Jan Saudek. But that really hurts me when people spend so much money and time on such photos, and what I would do if I really need to look cliché is to call that friend of mine who knows how to use Photoshop. I'd suggest you to do so, as well, or again, you can simply Google "how to take a cliché photo of 'holding up the leaning Tower of Pisa' in Photoshop." And hey, be careful with your nose.
Originally published: December 15, 2009
Zaten kaç gündür sinirlerim tepemde. Sağdan soldan, muhtemelen sağda ve solda olduklarından, lineer bir güzergah seyretmeme karşı çıkanlar var. Laf arasında, göz ucuyla veyahut sırt sıvazıyla; yaparsın, diyorlar, sen başka şeyler de yaparsın. Ona başvur, şunu dene, buraya gel. Bunları diyorlar. Bunları demeseler iyi, ama dediler miydi, o zehri zihnime zerk ettiler miydi, en düşük ihtimallere bile dünden teşne bünyemde hiçbir şey olmasa bile bir denge bozukluğuna sebebiyet veriyorlar.
Geçen gün Melih, Ömer, Eralp ve bendeniz otururken hangimizin en zengin olacağını sorduk kendimize. Eralp'e göre Melih ve ben. Ömer ise Eralp'i ve beni aday gösterdi. Melih'e göre kesin olan tek şey onun en fakir olacağı. Bana göreyse Ömer ve ben şampiyonluğun en güçlü adaylarıyız. Üzerinde mütabakata vardığımız bir diğer ayrıntıysa Ömer'in istese çok zengin olabileceği ama uğraşmayacağı. Para, mühim tabi... O gün İstanbul'da değil de burada olsa kardeşimin de diyecek bir çift lafı olurdu. Ekseriya söylediği gibi hep bir eşikte durduğumdan, o hırsı, aşkı, şevki, adına ne derseniz; onu göstermediğimden dert yanardı. Ben de haklısın kardeşim, der otururdum. Haklı kardeşim.
Çok kötü. Pazartesi ikinci vizeler başlıyor. Halihazırda ben kendime bir imtihanken bir de sözlük anlamıyla sınavların çıkagelmesi iyi olmuyor. Galiba bankamatiğimi kaybettim. Annem duyunca topuklarıma sıkacak, zira Paris'te gözlüğümü kaybettikten sonra feci bilendi bana. Yazmam gereken bir sürü başka şey varken hiçbir bağlayacılığı olmayan bloga yazmam iyiye işaret değil. Yapmam gerekenleri istemeyi bir başarabilsem her şey çok güzel olacak.
Az evvel şurada oturan kızın telefonu çaldı. Love Will Come Through. Bunda şaşılacak bir şey yok, telefonlara çok yakışıyor kerata. Ama duyunca özletti kendini. Açtım hemen, kahveyle güzel gitti. Ankara gitgide soğuyor, bugün kar eşiğini de aştık. Camera Obscura - Blizzard geliyor hemen aklıma, durur muyum açıyorum. Aklımın köşesinde hoşuma giden bir hikaye var, yazarsam çirkinleşmesinden korkuyorum. Ama ya iyice güzelleşirse?
Hakikaten yapmam gerekenleri istemeyi bir başarabilsem... Olsun, her şey çok güzel olacak.
One thing I don't like about microeconomics is that we assume people to be rational and then construct a whole study on this assumption while extreme examples like me exist. Of course, it would have been way too difficult for instructors to grade midterms otherwise, because instead of deciding how much cake and coffee Joe would consume given his income by using a Hicksian demand function, I would write down something like; "Joe wanted to consume 5 pieces of cake and no coffee today, and he doesn't think that he has to explain his reasoning as if this has something to do with his country's relationship to Britain." But this way, my career would go to somewhere that only Kramer's goes to, which is, nowhere.
Speaking of careers, I'm not one of those guys who would do whatever you want if given a certificate in exchange. This is because I don't really think I will get a job at that company in the Netherlands just because I've listened to some guy whose job is to read out some bestseller personal development book, not that I think these seminars are useless. I think when it comes to my career, there is more to it than that. So in this week's column, I want to talk about my career and how I set my weekly career objectives so I can dispense my wisdom to you, my dear readers.
Monday: I'd probably have a 600-word column to write, not to mention a four- page long homework assignment and a presentation on some topic that I don't know anything about. Despite the unbearable headache all this causes, the writing process is almost as much fun as getting fan mail, which is because I haven't gotten any yet. So on Mondays, I'm usually in the mood for being a columnist. I read other columnists, criticize them on Twitter and see if anything weird pops up to write about.
Tuesday: My favorite professor in the science world usually has her office hours, now that John Hicks is dead, so I visit her first thing in the morning and ask if she has anything to suggest for me. It doesn't take her long to convince me that I should be an academician; therefore our main focus in those fifteen minutes is how to get there. I don't know why but when academia is the subject, I've got this urge to read Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations; I think wannabe economists out there would understand me. So I go to the library and borrow that book for the 16738th time.
Wednesday: In certain times, I become fierier on this day than others, like Tuesdays. So in the morning, I definitely wake up less enthusiastic than I would on a Tuesday. I don't know how he does that but a friend of mine literally imposes the idea of working for government and teaching as a part-time instructor on me. And he definitely succeeds, because when I see an instructor doing so, I rise to the bait and ask "Why can't I?"
Thursday: I sometimes think that my mother cares about my career more than I do. Because when we talk on the phone every Thursday, one way or another she manages to convince me to work for a bank in İzmir. Though I try my best to explain to her that "distance can't pull us apart," her trembling voice overcomes my own interest.
Friday: I don't have any classes on Fridays. Therefore, I prefer not to think of my career. First things first, I return Adam Smith's book to the library, because I know I don't want to be an academician anymore. Instead of the career ahead of me, I curse the modern world, because it offers too many opportunities to someone as indecisive as me.
Weekend: Most of my favorite columnists write on weekends, therefore I decide to be one again on Saturdays. Then on Sunday, my mother calls me again to make sure that I'm okay-well, not just "okay" but "okay with the idea of working for a bank in İzmir." The supposedly touchy "distance" thing doesn't work again, so I realize that the only way to deal with it is to accept whatever she wants.
So, if you got even a little bit of sympathy while reading this, then you probably are someone at least as indecisive as me and have observed how unsuccessful I am when it comes to talking about a career. This is why I like Sector Introduction Days organized by the Career Center, because these guys do what I can't, they talk about careers. So go decide who you want to be, but don't forget, as one of my dearest friends states, "Certificates are Easy to Obtain."
Originally published: December 1, 2009
After technical analysis and legal evaluation based on the catalog crimes of the law no 5651, administrative measure has been taken for this website (zynga.com) according to decision no 421.02.02.2009-272446 dated 02/10/2009 of “Telekomünikasyon İletişim Başkanlığı”
On a sunny afternoon in October, which the World Mothers Association (WMO) has decided to blame for their children's overuse of deodorant, the auto-message above popped up on Joe Blow's computer screen. How come, when all he wanted was to get his daily dose of shunning society by playing Farmville, a cyber agrarian experience?
Farmville is a Facebook application where you, the little blonde farmer guy, are expected to run a virtual farm. Basically, all you do is plant stuff, plow land and then harvest. As you earn money and finish levels by selling crops, the scope of available crops to plant expands. To look like more of a middle-aged American guy who would have to think about lots of things before he sleeps, you can also raise weird animals like elephants or strawberry cows and help other people achieve the ultimate aim of being human, socialization.
Joe Blow, on the other hand, is an imaginary character that I've created just two minutes ago. Readers of my column would have realized that in my column, I like to call my generation “our country's hope for the future.” Well, I also would like to refer to Joe Blow as “one of the brightest minds of my generation.” In this respect, he looks very much like me. However, as you will realize throughout the story, we aren't the same person.
To start with, he is an engineering student, but I'm not. He is a huge fan of Fenerbahçe, while little by little my interest in Galatasaray decreases, which by the way has nothing to do with our recent defeat. Also, he has read that book called The Secret, and I haven't. However this is not the right time for me to make a critical comparison of us. Instead let's just go with Joe's story.
It all began back in the early 2000s, when I was spending most of my pocket money in Internet cafes over games like Counterstrike or Winning Eleven. In contrast, Joe Blow was very fond of some computer programs called ICQ or MIRC.
A few years later, after staring at those weird programs for a sufficient amount of time, NASA scientists announced in their spare time that it was okay for Joe to switch to Youtube and begin plaguing his friends with funny videos. They wouldn't pay him for it, but Joe was okay with that. It only took a few days for us to call him an expert on Youtube. He knew who would like what kind of videos, when he should laugh or stop the video and repeat the joke. Those were the days when my relationship with many girls would take a turn for the worse because of my squeaky voice, while Joe would only laugh to that monkey video and therefore we wouldn't actually know how he sounds.
Then again, after a given period, there came Facebook, a platform where I could spend the rest of my life if my basic needs were met. Joe's relationship with Facebook is very much like any of yours, apparently not like mine, because I'm not a fan of my primary school friends or Farmville, only status updates. However, Joe seems to like the Farmville most. The reason is obvious, actually: Similar to any other typical average Joe, he has always dreamed of a two-story house with a garden where he could raise his own tomatoes and cucumbers. And his compulsive behavior of playing Farmville serves his aim at least for the short run. I might think that Farmville is the stupidest game (although I was once tricked into it by thousands of Facebook requests), that doesn't necessarily mean I think it should be banned. I guess it isn't really a surprise for a country where nearly 6,000 websites are banned. Some claim that it isn't about the game, but the website-but who cares? It is a game that had more than 60 million active users this month; so people (in our case Joe) obviously like it a lot, and it is banned without rational explanation. And I know that this is neither the very first nor the last game to be banned. Tomorrow the victim may be one of those I like most, like Facebook, Gmail or Blogger. Or the Café World game, another application request I've just declined.
Originally published: November 10, 2009