In Praise of Old Technology: the Fountain Pen

I am far from suggesting that everyone should be an old-fashioned fruitcake like myself, but if there’s one Old Technology I think everyone should use, it’s the fountain pen.

A black and gold fountain pen, uncapped, rests on a page covered in black handwriting.

The basic ballpoint – be it clicky or Cristal – is ubiquitous. More than 100 billion of the latter had been sold by late 2006, most of which will now be in landfills around the globe. If you get a free goody bag from an event or business, you can pretty much guarantee that there will be at least one ballpoint in there. At some point – when the ink runs out, or dries out, or you begin to feel oppressed by the sheer number of these things cluttering up your desk or other surfaces – it goes to the dump.

Millions if not billions of these cheap disposable pens are churned out each year, and millions if not billions of them go to the landfill each year, packed in with the trashy polyester clothing and the masses of disposable nappies, all merrily leaching their toxic guck for decades if not centuries to come.

The fountain pen, by contrast, is refillable, repairable, and, if properly cared for, will last for decades of use.

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A Remarkable Man

Relatively few people have ever heard of Sir Julius Vogel, and this is unfortunate, because he was a remarkable man.

Having studied metallurgy at the Royal School of Mines in London (his birthplace), he moved to Australia during the Victoria gold rush and became…logically…a journalist and newspaper editor.

The ODT's 100th anniversary supplement, showing the first front page and a drawing of the cottage where the paper was first printed.

After moving across the Tasman to New Zealand in October 1861, he co-founded the Otago Daily Times – now New Zealand’s oldest surviving daily newspaper – the following month, and plunged into politics the following year, becoming an MP the year after that. Over the next quarter of a century he would represent five different electorates in the New Zealand Parliament, ranging from “Dunedin and Suburbs North” in the south to “Auckland East” in the north.

Another of his electorates was Goldfields – a special interest electorate which covered the same geographical area as other electorates but was only open to voters with a valid miner’s license. No electoral roll was kept – just show your license and vote.

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Coming Soon! A Season of Change

Change is afoot!

For reasons which I Am Not At Liberty To State (yet), the three novels I have published to date may shortly cease to be available in paperback form. Or in paper form at all.

But what you lose on the swings, you make up on the roundabouts.

Side note: I am having difficulty thinking of anything that one might lose on swings which could then be recouped or regained on roundabouts. One’s lunch? No. One’s wallet? Doubtful. A parkouring thief who sails across the playground on the swings before being trapped in the roundabout like a comic actor in a revolving door? Unlikely, to say the least. However, far be it from me to question the metaphoric wisdom of Those Who Have Gone Before.

A woman sits sadly on a swing, back to the viewer. The swing next to her is empty. In the background is a roundabout, also empty.
This woman has clearly lost something on the swings which she has not yet regained on the roundabout.

However.

While I am hoping in the future to make my books available in quality hardback form, in the shorter term the role of the roundabouts will be played by….

(drumroll please)

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