<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:39:41.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E*Dat</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-1835489227348913950</id><published>2009-02-26T06:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T06:33:24.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like</title><content type='html'>This&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tt5lB-RoAi4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tt5lB-RoAi4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-1835489227348913950?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/1835489227348913950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=1835489227348913950' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/1835489227348913950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/1835489227348913950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-like.html' title='I like'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-3098427502350227655</id><published>2009-02-09T16:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T16:26:13.364-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Identity Film</title><content type='html'>Basic film idea at the moment is to do the consequences of loosing one's identity, personifying that into a wallet. No smokes, no drink, no clubs, no driving, loosing money. This has the possibility of having a short sequel where the protagonist and his/her identity is returned to him/her. Should be possible to do in 5 scenes. Preproduction work underway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other thing, on the 3d animation side of the world... I saw 'Bolt' with the 3d glasses today... brilliant... other that the headache it gave me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aDWPsoKQoOs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aDWPsoKQoOs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-3098427502350227655?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/3098427502350227655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=3098427502350227655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3098427502350227655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3098427502350227655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2009/02/identity-film.html' title='Identity Film'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-5408907267974363106</id><published>2009-02-09T16:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T16:19:47.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Starlings flying</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SZDH6y0TJGI/AAAAAAAAACU/FstxMf96M5E/s1600-h/IMG_2499+copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SZDH6y0TJGI/AAAAAAAAACU/FstxMf96M5E/s320/IMG_2499+copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300956574302544994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final piece for mag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also doing the layout design when all the material is in... god knows when that will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-5408907267974363106?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/5408907267974363106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=5408907267974363106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5408907267974363106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5408907267974363106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2009/02/starlings-flying.html' title='Starlings flying'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SZDH6y0TJGI/AAAAAAAAACU/FstxMf96M5E/s72-c/IMG_2499+copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-2493953187435133971</id><published>2009-01-18T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T10:15:01.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurrah for the twenty first century</title><content type='html'>I have been comissioned to illustrate a pice of work in an indie magasine&lt;br /&gt;the pice of poetry is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Starlings Are Massing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still before the gloaming&lt;br /&gt;As the light is gently palling&lt;br /&gt;The sky is a-falling&lt;br /&gt;The sky is a-falling&lt;br /&gt;I find her in the rushes&lt;br /&gt;Where softly she’s been calling&lt;br /&gt;The sky is a-falling&lt;br /&gt;The sky is a-falling&lt;br /&gt;Looking up above&lt;br /&gt;I see them blackly flashing&lt;br /&gt;The starlings are massing&lt;br /&gt;The starlings are massing&lt;br /&gt;Out across the fen&lt;br /&gt;Their cloud is darkly passing&lt;br /&gt;The starlings are massing&lt;br /&gt;The starlings are massing&lt;br /&gt;And I clutch my baby’s hand&lt;br /&gt;‘Say don’t you feel how life is passing&lt;br /&gt;‘neath this ever-falling sky&lt;br /&gt;When the starlings are a-massing?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James Steel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking of possible ideas, an all encompassing vortex is what comes to mind. I will scan the sketches which I have done, I have also been trying stuff with photography and shadows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-2493953187435133971?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/2493953187435133971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=2493953187435133971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2493953187435133971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2493953187435133971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2009/01/hurrah-for-twenty-first-century.html' title='Hurrah for the twenty first century'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-2661433665479391554</id><published>2009-01-15T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:42:47.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Found</title><content type='html'>So nearly a month later and the signs of starvation have started to show on the face of my poor unloved blog.&lt;br /&gt;With so much to report in, I have no idea where to start… perhaps my new found love for peanut butter and jam slightly toasted sandwiches which, I believe is the perfect balance of sweet and savoury contained within two pieces of thin asda value white bread. Or I could talk about my rediscovery of reading fiction, a small thing but still having a great weight on my well-being and my understanding of myself. I could talk about my understanding of Der Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse and my research of its misunderstanding according to different culture’s views on philosophy. For example the notion of a human being consisting of a horde of fragments of different souls is in complete contradiction of Judeo-Christian theologies but based on Buddhist philosophies. Although Hesse was disconcerted by his western reader’s misinterpretation. He shouldn’t have been surprised with his initial demographic’s reaction since all understanding comes from experience and that experience is based on the culture where the experiences occur.&lt;br /&gt;  This leads me onto something else, which has been floating around in the depths of my metaphorical mind (I like alliteration a lot) is the comparison of different sections on England. I was talking to someone the other day, I was saying that I was missing my hometown. She asked me what I missed about it, to which I explained to her, I missed the hustle and bustle of London, the impolite-ness of the inhabitants of said metropolis. However I did explain my appreciation of the friendly-ness of Nottingham’s inhabitants. She was surprised about this, since she had been in the same position as me, but visa versa. She missed the friendly-ness of the people in her hometown of Manchester but still appreciated the lack of comparative friendly-ness. This whole idea is something I think I want to explore in the form of video documentary. I think it will be entirely budgetary feasible and available since there are such a wide mixture of people from different parts of England to interview.&lt;br /&gt;  Another idea is to do a short film on a fictional man ordering a Russian mail order bride, the idea is still up and in the air as I try and work out the structure of this story. But one this is definite, the protagonist is going to read the small print of a Swedish mail order bride website and be surprised at the fact that you need to assemble them yourself. (Ha) http://www.thai-professional.com/ladies.htm&lt;br /&gt;(WFT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While on the subject of relationships, I started playing secondlife but thoroughly hated it. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get my avatar to look like how I saw myself, I found the controls awkward and the user interface uncomfortable. I also did not really get it. I started thinking about the possible reasons for starting a ‘second life’ and the only ones were for starting again because one messed up their own life or they did not like it so much that they wanted one where they could control their own circumstance.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SW90xXa6BYI/AAAAAAAAACE/6Ld7TuYyLIc/s1600-h/Picture+5.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 193px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SW90xXa6BYI/AAAAAAAAACE/6Ld7TuYyLIc/s320/Picture+5.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291576478632904066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2008/nov/13/second-life-divorce&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I dropped second life after finding a lot of the people unwelcoming to ‘Newbs’, rude and the constant bombardment of advertising, unsuccessfully trying to convince me to purchase non existing products, only existing in Second Life.&lt;br /&gt;I tried something different, vSide. In this virtual work, I found the controls easier and the people more friendly, within one minute I had people talking to me and adding me as their ‘friends’. I maintained conversation with an individual called ‘smokie-jovony’ she asked me to be her vBoyfriend, this kinda worried me but in the spirit of research, I accepted. I find this whole exercise very bizarre, but ‘living’ in this world, with such strong laws and the ability so have a reset button and become someone else, rather comforting. Yet still incredibly bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SW90yKJ-V8I/AAAAAAAAACM/RXCHS3IR78k/s1600-h/Picture+4.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SW90yKJ-V8I/AAAAAAAAACM/RXCHS3IR78k/s320/Picture+4.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291576492252092354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something else in the pipe line is work experience for channel 4. Hopefully, I will be successful with it. But so far I have been promised a week placement in early February. Which might interfere with my studies but I think when an opportunity like such comes along, one should jump on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing, I’ve started planning production of My poker short, I have a location, a Thames-side apartment on the south bank and have a smoke machine available, what I do need to do is sort out some kind of cast and finalise the script.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-2661433665479391554?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/2661433665479391554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=2661433665479391554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2661433665479391554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2661433665479391554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost-and-found.html' title='Lost and Found'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SW90xXa6BYI/AAAAAAAAACE/6Ld7TuYyLIc/s72-c/Picture+5.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-5796994325291363059</id><published>2008-12-18T05:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T05:46:48.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ENrzp_hZNxM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ENrzp_hZNxM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/seCRhjrLNy4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/seCRhjrLNy4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-5796994325291363059?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/5796994325291363059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=5796994325291363059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5796994325291363059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5796994325291363059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-4042927020622833743</id><published>2008-12-11T14:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:30:21.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenes Finalised</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhrgf6oqI/AAAAAAAAAB8/UNcS079ZyGE/s1600-h/red3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhrgf6oqI/AAAAAAAAAB8/UNcS079ZyGE/s320/red3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278678007085179554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhq_cxqCI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jfM63XKfs48/s1600-h/grandma%27s+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhq_cxqCI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jfM63XKfs48/s320/grandma%27s+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278677998213638178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhqY8ZzyI/AAAAAAAAABs/TYnnrwBjiYw/s1600-h/door+open.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhqY8ZzyI/AAAAAAAAABs/TYnnrwBjiYw/s320/door+open.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278677987877310242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhpyyWUTI/AAAAAAAAABk/KStqxfeoMgw/s1600-h/light+on.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhpyyWUTI/AAAAAAAAABk/KStqxfeoMgw/s320/light+on.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278677977634591026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZBq6QnoI/AAAAAAAAABc/G47UtUVLGBQ/s1600-h/wolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZBq6QnoI/AAAAAAAAABc/G47UtUVLGBQ/s320/wolf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278668492232498818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scenes post drawn and photoshoped&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZBLVPymI/AAAAAAAAABU/aWnDVSAJexs/s1600-h/ears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZBLVPymI/AAAAAAAAABU/aWnDVSAJexs/s320/ears.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278668483755756130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZAQNJnnI/AAAAAAAAABM/IJjS-sLQb6A/s1600-h/eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGZAQNJnnI/AAAAAAAAABM/IJjS-sLQb6A/s320/eye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278668467884105330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGY_DGmXJI/AAAAAAAAABE/0kAH3mi0JKw/s1600-h/mouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGY_DGmXJI/AAAAAAAAABE/0kAH3mi0JKw/s320/mouth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278668447187098770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGY6sR2hxI/AAAAAAAAAA8/dsRBPPW7ZeM/s1600-h/light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGY6sR2hxI/AAAAAAAAAA8/dsRBPPW7ZeM/s320/light.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278668372340803346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-4042927020622833743?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/4042927020622833743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=4042927020622833743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/4042927020622833743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/4042927020622833743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/scenes-finalised.html' title='Scenes Finalised'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGhrgf6oqI/AAAAAAAAAB8/UNcS079ZyGE/s72-c/red3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-3948674849795232753</id><published>2008-12-11T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T14:29:22.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Semi-interactive</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT09F4oaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Wk4OzQeMlmE/s1600-h/Grandmas+House+Concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 316px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT09F4oaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Wk4OzQeMlmE/s320/Grandmas+House+Concept.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278662776216658338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Concept artwork for flash characters.&lt;br /&gt;Little Red Riding-Hood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT0R2mxHI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2SyHVXBWnJc/s1600-h/Wolf+concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT0R2mxHI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2SyHVXBWnJc/s320/Wolf+concept.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278662764609848434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT0AXrjxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BFuhjUtERHk/s1600-h/Hunter+Concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT0AXrjxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BFuhjUtERHk/s320/Hunter+Concept.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278662759916736274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGTz_aeaLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ib3sK2GqBFY/s1600-h/Grandma+Concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGTz_aeaLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ib3sK2GqBFY/s320/Grandma+Concept.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278662759660021938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGTzta0ZpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/t4w11egbiSg/s1600-h/Little+Red+Concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGTzta0ZpI/AAAAAAAAAAU/t4w11egbiSg/s320/Little+Red+Concept.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278662754829624978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-3948674849795232753?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/3948674849795232753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=3948674849795232753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3948674849795232753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3948674849795232753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/semi-interactive.html' title='Semi-interactive'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SUGT09F4oaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Wk4OzQeMlmE/s72-c/Grandmas+House+Concept.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-8691830663699959186</id><published>2008-12-10T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:42:46.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Flash Photography</title><content type='html'>Day 8.&lt;br /&gt;Time has stood still as I try to figure out Flash. The program with a learning curve almost parallel to the y-axis. Brick wall after brick wall, finding the occasional door or window to clamber through. Getting the same flickering images after each test of each movie as each actionscript or stop fails to work. Giving the key to the window to a housemate to prevent the defenestration of my laptop. Wordless to describe the hatred of said program. Soldier on… Soldier on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-8691830663699959186?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/8691830663699959186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=8691830663699959186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/8691830663699959186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/8691830663699959186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-flash-photography.html' title='No Flash Photography'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-715432378528580478</id><published>2008-12-08T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:11:39.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meeting</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nRUhNK5QqPU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nRUhNK5QqPU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-715432378528580478?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/715432378528580478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=715432378528580478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/715432378528580478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/715432378528580478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/meeting.html' title='The Meeting'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-7811669435052130984</id><published>2008-12-08T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:34:50.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meeting (Re-written)</title><content type='html'>I started thinking about the possibilities of the single shot film. Under Einstein’s theory of montage, stories can be told through the juxtaposition of uninflected images, binding a contrast, which will in turn create a narrative. We were given hard limitations to work through and due to this, the single shot film had to be very simplified. Anything over complicated would be somewhat pointless and would have a rather stale and boring look to it. Or, it would look amateurish and very studenty, so to speak. After thinking a lot about possible ways to overcome the limitations I decided that instead of trying to ‘cheat’ my way around said limitations I would just simplify. The so-called ‘cheating’ would be to increase the speed of certain pans to give the illusion of a cut being made in the shot. This would still maintain the single shot film idea but it would appear to have blurred cuts and then agree with the montage theory.&lt;br /&gt;    Maintaining the simplicity idea, I thought that having a small amount of movement would accord with the simplicity idea. I thought of a few simple stories to work with, all including 2 ambiguous protagonists. The one I stuck with was the ‘breaking down the door’ story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Description of shots:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;00s – 45s aesthetically correct shot of door (handle 2 thirds both ways top right)&lt;br /&gt;45s – 47s pan 30 degree pan&lt;br /&gt;48s – 90s end shot Bottom left 9th filled with corner of bed and F. M walks into shot, filling 2 vertical thirds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Description of meaning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone is outside the door asking to be let in. No one answers. The person entreating entrance starts to become more irate and hits the door with more ferocity, the door handle starts to turn as the door is pulled towards his direction. He starts shouting and swearing more. The camera pans and a young woman is seen, her eyes open, scared but maintaining an aura of calmness. She frowns. Lifts her head up and backwards. She shouts, “It’s a pushing door, not a pulling one”. The doors opens with a backwards slam and the unseen male walks into shot only his lower torso and just above his knees are seen. He stands, silent above her. Fade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deliberately names are left out of the dialogue to keep a slight ambiguity about the situation. Husband and wife. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Father and daughter. Unknown by the audience. It is up to the audience to work such things out. The story is actually based on two of my friends who are together. Who were both pissed and one of them couldn't work out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However there is a temptation to go along the American ‘steady-cam’ option. Just following around the protagonist with boring literal narration. Something along the lines… “oh, he’s drunk again”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, this I felt this would lack any mystique and ambiguity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-7811669435052130984?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/7811669435052130984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=7811669435052130984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/7811669435052130984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/7811669435052130984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/12/meeting-re-written.html' title='The Meeting (Re-written)'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-3513640418252540670</id><published>2008-11-17T09:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:12:11.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Neglectful...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SSGvN36lTHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FCHJDkx5fW0/s1600-h/IMG_3564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SSGvN36lTHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FCHJDkx5fW0/s320/IMG_3564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269685691883015282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving my blog for a very long time, i thought it would be good to update it with all the fun things I have been doing over the last couple of weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Why is it that we want our belongings to do more for us than to function well?&lt;br /&gt;All of our belongings have specific functions but also they mostly are going to have some kind of aesthetic apeel to them aswel otherwise a different object with the same function would have been selected to purchase. Since we as consumers are often very fickle we will butan object based a lot on how it looks rather than the function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Why are we willing, as soon as we can afford it, to pay extra for things with appealing forms?&lt;br /&gt;There are many reasons for this. I think one of these is the showing off factor. If the object is particularlly stylised and individual it will be more appealing to the consumer. So the extra is paid for the object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guitar is my guitar, its fuction was on the day of purchasing was equal with another guitar within my price range, however I purchased this one because of its aesthetic appeal and individuality compared with the rather visually boring other one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other focus of my attention has been working on the one shot film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My original idea was to have the camera in the middle of a circle of people and pan around. However this is technically rather difficult and general consensus of the group that I have been put in is to got for the easy options...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finished the script. I am happy with it. But I think the group want to make it "funny".&lt;br /&gt;I have a bad feeling that puns and one-liners are on the horizon... oh dear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Meeting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Four male students are sitting around a table playing Texas hold’em. The room is smokey and there are few empty beer cans around them, they have been drinking but they are not drunk but they have been playing for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ADAM&lt;br /&gt;(To BEN)&lt;br /&gt;I want to buy in…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;That’s a fiver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gives Chips to ADAM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;Wait! He can’t do that, it’s past buy in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t really matter does it, means more money for you if you win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Fuck it! Why not. Once I was playing this daft cunt who kept buying in, I think his name was Harry something, the mug ended up loosing over a hundred quid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Harry MacHoll?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Yea, something like that, we called the prick the “gold mine”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They carry on playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;I’ve got a good feeling about this, going to take the woman out to sushi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ADAM&lt;br /&gt;Sure thing is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;That or he’s rubbish at bluffing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Piss off mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;What’s the bird’s name mate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Gemma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN asks the second question quickly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Gemma what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Gemma None of your bloody business, what’s with all these question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Nothing by it mate, I recently broke up with a bird called Gemma, was thinking that the world we live in is such a socially incestual place they might know each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Mate, Gemma wouldn’t go out with someone like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ADAM&lt;br /&gt;No need to get personal man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;No, I know what he was implying and he’s a twat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Gemma James?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Er.. Yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;Oh shit, I know that bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Most of you probably do, the girl’s a slapper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;I got together with her about a month ago then dropped her because she was a fucking idiot (possibly diseased).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;But I’ve been with her for about a year…&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE laughs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;you’re fuckin’ joking. I think I know who you’re talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Yea, you and probably everyone else at this table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;I think You’re chatting shit, what’s your name? I’ll ask her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;Ben MacHoll?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;“The Goldmine”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;No, I’m his brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess you got his debts as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;No but I think I still owe Gemma a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;Daren. What the hell do you mean by that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;You work it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;You boys are ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;You know what I cant be fucked with all you lot. All in…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEN&lt;br /&gt;I’m all in as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I’ll match you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ADAM&lt;br /&gt;Yea, I’m getting bored of this as well… all in. Its not like I owe your bird any money anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;DAREN&lt;br /&gt;(Really Pissed) You know what lads. I can’t be assed with all of you. I’m leaving before I hit one of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAREN throws his cards face down into the centre of the table and stands up. He pulls his jacket off the back of his chair and walks out of shot and a door is heard slamming out. the remainder of the boys look at one another and laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ADAM&lt;br /&gt;What did he have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie lifts up Daren’s cards and laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;Royal Flush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-3513640418252540670?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/3513640418252540670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=3513640418252540670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3513640418252540670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/3513640418252540670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/11/neglectful.html' title='Neglectful...'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jZ9-uod7Dpw/SSGvN36lTHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/FCHJDkx5fW0/s72-c/IMG_3564.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-308501027730605315</id><published>2008-11-05T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T11:23:12.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spurned</title><content type='html'>After many f*ups, it's finally done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wzQ6dcmApCI"&gt; &lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wzQ6dcmApCI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-308501027730605315?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/308501027730605315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=308501027730605315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/308501027730605315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/308501027730605315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/11/spurned.html' title='Spurned'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-2873048651294566920</id><published>2008-10-27T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T10:17:33.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How does a computer smell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The idea of a computer controlled smell output display has been around for nearly 50 years but it is only recently that the technology has become more economically viable and commercially available, however it is still being developed.&lt;br /&gt;   Humans have difficulty is ascertaining the quantity of a smell but are very good at identifying qualities and differences in smells. There are many different methods for olfactory display. There is an airbrush-like system that uses compressed air to pick up liquid particles of scent and emit them. There are various systems that use heat to increase the evaporation of a scented oil or wax. It is also possible to use a mechanical scratch and sniff type system. Each system has its faults but different systems have optimal applications.&lt;br /&gt;   In the present nearly all multimedia applications have two main components, Audio and Visual stimuli. The aim of most applications is to immerse the user into the created world. Smell used properly could be a very powerful tool in recreating a world. Smell can bring someone straight backs to a childhood memory, if this were used effectively in a horror film for example; the viewer would be very easily scared. Issuing the effect that many contemporary horror films have recently been trying to emote. However there are possible problems with immersing a user too much into a computer simulated world. Although the debate between computer games manufactures and doting parents still rages on. Whether violent games breed violent people or violent people are attracted to violent games. If the former were true, creating a more immersive world through smell would mean that it would become difficult to separate game from reality. Possibly becoming a sociological issue.&lt;br /&gt;   The development of this technology could affect different parts of the art world as well. The film, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, uses very clever camera, editing and CGI effects to portray smell on screen. If the olfactory display technology were widely accepted and used by filmmakers, large parts of the film would be greatly enhanced. Although the concept has been around for a long time, the execution is now near completion and will hopefully be available and affordable soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.hitl.whttp://www.hitl.washington.edu/people/tfurness/courses/inde543/reports/3doc/ashington.edu/people/tfurness/courses/inde543/reports/3doc/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/7.11/digiscent.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://digiscents.com/blog/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.wired.com/culture/lifestyle/news/2001/03/42417&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.microscent.net/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://silvia.mn.ee.titech.ac.jp/MNL_display.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://silvia.mn.ee.titech.ac.jp/research/Olfactory-Display-to-blend-32component-odors.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Computer-Controlled Smell Output&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Perfumer &amp;amp; Flavorist, November/December 2004&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-2873048651294566920?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/2873048651294566920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=2873048651294566920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2873048651294566920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2873048651294566920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-does-computer-smell.html' title='How does a computer smell?'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-5366317871769233776</id><published>2008-10-21T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T11:19:28.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More nonsense</title><content type='html'>Reading over what he has previously written, the Pilot starts to question his own sanity. However in thinking this he proves to himself that he is actually sane, since only sane people question their own sanity, but since this was the first time he thought this he must have been insane before. What was the cure? What happened to make him question his own sanity? Can he make money out of this? All these questions start racing through his head like tiny figures on micro scooters made from some kind of frozen liquid. He then starts to ponder the definition of sanity:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sanity |ˈsanitē|&lt;br /&gt;noun&lt;br /&gt;the ability to think and behave in a normal and rational manner; sound mental health : I began to doubt my own sanity.&lt;br /&gt;• reasonable and rational behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If normal is an abstract concept and based on the largest proportion of a population of a society then, if the society is completely full of insane people and only one sane person, becomes insane, by definition. But if it were separate would that one sane person by definition be insane compared to the sane people in his separate society. So if you were to separate a mental institution from mainland society and made it a small freestanding society on its own, the definition of insane would be switched. For example it has 50 patients and 5 doctors/nurses/orderlys, the normal is to be our version of insane, thus insanity become our version of normal.&lt;br /&gt;    I think the point I have been trying to make is that all definitions and terms are relative and Them can entirely distort them to fit the social groupings that they want. The Pilot then again revaluates his mental health, his brow wrinkles and he sees a few out of focus hairs cloud the top of his vision as he looks up and to the left of his field of view. He purses his lips and moves them to the left side of his face at the same time he closes his left eye by a few millimeters. He closes his fists and inhales slowly while turning his head roughly 47 degrees to the left. The window now comes into focus, being removed from the peripheries of his vision. The area outside of the window de-blurs itself and on the roof of the house opposite a crow becomes the nucleus of his attention. This creature although completely illuminated by the vast and hazed light source from up above, remains silhouetted looking like a cut out. As it turns its head though 90 degrees and the light flashes across its eyes giving it a momentary entrance into visual three dimensional space. Its leaves the space and removes itself, becoming two dimensional again, and there it stands motionless. The Pilot is reminded of Edgar Allen Poe’s spectacular poem about the personification of death in the almost insignificant from of a black bird. “Maybe this is my personification of death.” The Pilots chest tightens and he realizes that his buttocks have slowly been loosing feeling. Subconsciously he tries to change the subject. His fingernails come into his vision… dirty… dirty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-5366317871769233776?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/5366317871769233776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=5366317871769233776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5366317871769233776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/5366317871769233776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/10/more-nonsense.html' title='More nonsense'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-4278895214703234695</id><published>2008-10-17T05:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T05:23:05.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Blitherings</title><content type='html'>A feeling of dread starts to set in as the realization of the hangover begins to vibrate through the pilot’s brain. He is sitting here at his laptop trying to get as many thoughts down onto digital paper as possible. He does this due to the fear of his brain healing for the last few nights of debaucherous behavior and the memory being lost into the caverns. He realizes that his left foot is slowly becoming numb, perhaps an inverted heart attack? Fuck it, he might die and even that would not be a tragedy because he would not be aware of it, this calmness instilled on him is short-lived as he contemplates an after life. Oh god, God? If you’re there, save me from this heart attack! His heart beats quicker as he sits on the chair covered in clothes at his graying Laptop, he realizes that he is writing about himself in entirely the third person, “how self indulgent” he mumbles to himself, in a voice which gives off a slight taste of copper. He sniffs, scratches a piece of crusty gold coloured excretion from his eye looks out of the window and breathes in through his right nostril, the other one is blocked. A sharp pain shoots up his lower left back and the link is made back to the heart attack. Maybe it’s like the warning of a tsunami, the calm before the storm, this numbness and pain before death as the tide recedes along the sand. The pilot starts to wonder what another sane human being reading his passage would think of it and whether there was necessarily any point of specifying that a human being would be reading the letters. “As opposed to what, a salmon coloured flamingo?” he says to himself, that coppery taste returning. He thinks of Alice in wonderland, then the annoyingly punned Alice in Sunderland, a satirical adaptation that he only read half a page then got bored, this aggravates him and he realized that he needs to take a shit.&lt;br /&gt;    The bathroom door needs a little extra nudge because a slightly moist towel is on the other side of it, the pilot realizes how much he hates the word moist, he repeats it to himself a few times to get that feeling of total distain back again. Moist. The door opens with a grinding sound. He pulls the disgusting towel from under the door, the friction with the carpet makes that grinding sound again, but a higher pitch due to the panels on the door vibrating more from the upward movement of the towel. The pilot closes the door, drops his trousers, spreads and squeezes, realizing that sitting should be somewhere in that list but decides to leave it out purely for comic effect. Wipes, washes hands and goes back to his computer, again, pulling up the actual trousers is left out for comic effect. He starts typing, his hands take a couple of seconds to dry, but when they are dry they are smooth but slightly rough. He scratches his eyebrow with his left hand; it makes the sound of leaves blowing in his head. He reads back over what he has written and wonders if what he had written had been a work of fiction, whether he would make a main protagonist, a subsidiary supporting character or even a non-existent extra. Do they have extras in books? Or if the book is based entirely on reality how come there are no end credits? He then realizes that end credits would be pointless because each actor or actress or just actor according to the politically correct, world be part of the writer and creator’s mind and personality. The politically correctness confused him. It seemed that they, they being them, Them being non existent, wanted there to be no discrimination between men or women, well, Them must be bi-sexual, which is another form of greediness, and greediness is one of the main driving factors of the average human, so people in general will now be referred to as Them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-4278895214703234695?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/4278895214703234695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=4278895214703234695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/4278895214703234695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/4278895214703234695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/10/daily-blitherings_17.html' title='Daily Blitherings'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-2493834187562255282</id><published>2008-10-17T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T05:22:31.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Blitherings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-2493834187562255282?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/2493834187562255282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=2493834187562255282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2493834187562255282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/2493834187562255282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/10/daily-blitherings.html' title='Daily Blitherings'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2715023380462708057.post-6057051833853742426</id><published>2008-10-07T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T04:51:16.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you want to get out of the course in addition to passing?</title><content type='html'>In addition to passing I want to gain a greater understanding of the audio-visual and commerical world in multimedia. From what I have been told, the course offers many doorways into this selected industry, I plan on making contacts who will hopfully help me in my furtue carreer in the media indutry, apart from this I want to meet people of similar interests. I also want to develop my current draftmanship abilitys as much as possible and take advantage of the environment and facilitys provided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e*dat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2715023380462708057-6057051833853742426?l=estardat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/feeds/6057051833853742426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2715023380462708057&amp;postID=6057051833853742426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/6057051833853742426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2715023380462708057/posts/default/6057051833853742426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estardat.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-do-you-want-to-get-out-of-course.html' title='What do you want to get out of the course in addition to passing?'/><author><name>E*Dat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01010683645212181382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
