Jen and I finally succumbed (or should that be succame?) to Sky+™ telly last week, having become totally fed up with the incessant ads on the BBC telling us what we were missing. We had already tried a Freeview™ digital box, but there is no coverage at our house, the tallest transmitter (and, indeed, tallest free-standing structure) in the UK being, rather infuriatingly, just out of view behind the hill. 100 yards up the hill, fine; 100 yards down the hill, fine; but where we live, not fine. Not fine at all. Cable TV is but a distant dream this far out in the sticks. So Murdoch finally parted us from our hard-earned.
Isn't there an awful lot of shite on telly these days?
Compare and contrast:
BBC (30-Jan-2002): 'Minimal' risk from deorbiting spacecraft
The American space agency's Extreme Ultraviolet Explorer (EUVE) spacecraft is due to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere and break-up sometime during the next 24 hours.
BBC: (20-Mar-2001): Mir re-entry is unprecedented
… The de-orbiting of Mir would be a routine procedure if it were not for platform's size. At 135 tonnes, Mir is far larger than any other manmade object brought to Earth before.
BBC (03-Sep-2006): Probe crashes into Moon's surface
Europe's lunar satellite, the Smart 1 probe, has ended its mission by crashing onto the Moon's surface in a controlled collision.
American and Russian spacecraft de-orbit; European ones crash.
Stense might think she's the Queen of Ditzy, but Carolyn can knock her into a cocked hat.
Yesterday, as Carolyn and I were walking through the main shopping street in Liverpool, there was a hawker selling Mr Punch-type throat whistles: Wa-wa-waaaah!! he cried in throat-whistly type of voice… That's the way to do it!!
"How did it do that?" gasped Carolyn, completely freaked out.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"How did it do it?"
"It's a special type of whistle."
"No, seriously, how did it do it?"
"I am being serious. It's how they do the Mr Punch voice in Punch and Judy."
At which point, Carolyn burst into uncontrollable laughter and started choking something incomprehensible at me. It took me 30 seconds or so to work out what she was trying to say:
She'd thought the noise had been made by a pigeon.
I think I might owe Stense an apology.
OK, I know I owe Stense an apology:
She and I talked with each other on the phone last night. I was feeling very tired, and my brain wasn't working properly—which is my only excuse really. We were talking about the last time we saw each other, when we went out for a meal at a posh(ish) restaurant. I was trying to be complimentary, for Pete's sake, saying that she had dressed very smartly, whereas I had let the side down by dressing a bit too casually. But what I actually said—I don't know what came over me—was:
"I looked like a pimp."
Which naturally made Stense assume that I was implying that she had looked like a prostitute—which, in her good-natured way, she laughed off.
Stense, if you're reading this, please accept my humble apologies. You looked extremely sophisticated and elegant that evening. I am truly sorry that I inadvertantly implied that you looked like a prostitute. For the record, you did not look anything like a prostitute.
Not even a very high-class one.
Guardian: Boris sorry for 'cannibal' comments
Conservative MP Boris Johnson has been forced to apologise for causing offence to the people of Papua New Guinea after linking the south-east Asian island state to "cannibalism and chief-killing".
The gaffe-prone Tory education spokesman sparked the outrage of Papua New Guinea's High Commissioner in London Jean L Kekedo…
Port Moresby's British representative insisted cannibalism had been stamped out two centuries ago.
Phew! And to think I've been avoiding Papua New Guinea all these years for fear of being eaten. I feel so stupid.
Information supplied on the side of a bottle of Buxton Natural Mineral Water:
Buxton Natural Mineral Water flows naturally to the surface having filtered for 5000 years through the ancient limestone of the Peak District. From a depth of 1500 metres, it arrives at the surface untouched by man or machine as pure as nature intended.
…And then they squirt it into a plastic bottle and slap a best before date on it.
Compare and contrast:
Yesterday was Stense's birthday, so I made her a special present. For obvious reasons, I dubbed it a Stensil™.
I'm glad to say, Stense was suitably impressed. She didn't actually say she liked it, but she was certainly impressed all right.
If you'd like to know how I did it, or if you'd like to make a Stensil™ of your own, I have published full, illustrated instructions on a special page entitled How to make your very own Stensil (the instructions include a free PDF template for you to use).
You should give it a go: it's a fun way to waste an awful lot of time, and Stense will be mortified.
BBC: Pope 'meant no offence' to Islam
The Vatican has denied that Pope Benedict XVI intended any offence to the Muslim religion, after a speech touching on the concept of holy war…
The remarks have angered clerics and commentators around the Muslim world.
I can't help feeling that the Moslem world is over-reacting. If they would only study the entire text of His Holiness's speech [37kb PDF] before jumping to conclusions, they would see that it wasn't the Pope who insulted the Prophet Mohammed; he was merely quoting one of his illustrious, crusading Byzantine predecessors.
He's an old man, for St Peter's sake! He didn't mean to cause any offence. Cut him a bit of slack, why don't you? So he made a bit of a goof. We're all fallible.
Oh yes, that's right…
A colleague from another department asked me to act as an impartial, disinterested adjudicator in an internal, potentially controversial, prioritisation process yesterday.
It made me feel quite important until I found out they wanted me to judge the winner in a gingerbread-person decoration competiton.
True to form, I exercised the wisdom of Solomon, and plumped for the babe in the bikini.
New Scientist: Enzyme shot restores memory in Alzheimer's mice
It may eventually be possible to restore some of the lost cognitive function and learning ability of people with Alzheimer's disease.
Michael Shelanski of Columbia University in New York and his colleagues knew that an enzyme called ubiquitin C-terminal hydrolase L1 (Uch-L1) is essential for ridding brain cells of unwanted proteins, and that the beta-amyloid protein that forms plaques in the brains of Alzheimer's patients somehow stops production of this enzyme.
When they injected extra Uch-L1 into the brains of mice with the mouse equivalent of Alzheimer's disease, the animals' learning ability improved markedly.
What sort of sadistic asshat chooses a name like ubiquitin C-terminal hydrolase L1 for a chemical that might help people with Alzheimer's? How the hell are they going to remember to ask for that down at Boots?
I'll bet it was the same tosser who decided on the spelling of dyslexia.
From a instant messaging conversation with Carolyn:
Richard: Do you know if you'll be in Liverpool on Thursday?
Carolyn: Not sure yet - I may well be. In fact it could be a 'probably' but I'm not definite.
And to think I was wondering why Carolyn and I haven't managed to go out for a drink in the last five years.
Observer: 'This much I know' by Joan Bakewell
Society has become obsessed about smoking. I smoked 40 a day for years, through two pregnancies. Never occurred to anyone then. I hit 40 and I remember thinking, 'I really ought to give up.' I thought of buying a pack the other day, though, just because I'm so irritated by this 'don't smoke within two miles of me' stuff.
Ha-ha! Nice one, centurion!
BBC: 'Quit Strasbourg' public tells EU
One million people have signed an internet petition calling for an end to the European Parliament's monthly sessions in Strasbourg.
No, I know what you're thinking, but the population of Strasbourg is only 650,000.
Slovenian artist Matej Andraz Vogrincic has created a new artwork in the derelict shell of St Luke's church, Liverpool, which was burned out by a German incendiary bomb in 1941. The piece comprises 56 green fibreglass boats, moulded from a 114-year-old original found on the coast of Slovenia.
My guess is that it is supposed to symbolise the emigration of Irish people to Liverpool (and thence to the New World) during the mid-nineteenth century… The church's gardens are the site of a monument to the Irish Potato Blight.
It's pretty damn cool, and the best use I've seen a church put to.
BBC: Many would 'want to live to 100'
Many Britons would give up favourite things, including sex, to reach 100 years of age, a poll suggests.
Some 40% said they would give up sex—half of women and a third of men—39% food and drinks and 42% travel.
Why do people have to be so STUPID? Why elect to give up sex and food and travel and stuff in order to live to be 100, when they might just as easily have chosen to give up things they don't like doing, such as filling in tax returns, or mowing the lawn? Me? I would quite happily give up decorating, going to the dentist, and queuing behind old ladies who prefer to pay with cash, if it meant I could live to be 100.
I mean, it stands to reason.
…everything starts to look like a nail [old Chinese proverb].
I was helping Carolyn review her CV today. Every accountant I have ever met writes their CV in Microsoft Excel. No matter that Excel is totally unsuitable for the job, it's the tool of their trade; it's what they're used to; it's what's to hand.
Similarly, my farmer friend uses the plastic string that comes round bails of hay for just about everything. There's a book in there somewhere: 101 Uses for Bailer Band (or 102, if you tie up your hay bails with it). No kidding, I've even seen her truss up a chicken with the stuff prior to broiling it (it turned the broth a lovely shade of blue).
Adapting/kludging solutions from what is to hand was a pet theme of my favourite writer, the late Stephen Jay Gould. If you're not familiar with his books, you should give them a try. I particularly recommend Bully For Brontosaurus.
BBC: Europe clinch Ryder Cup hat-trick
Sweden's Henrik Stenson [no relation] robbed Darren Clarke of a fairytale ending but home fans were still in raptures as Europe strolled to a 18½–9½ victory over America in the 36th Ryder Cup at the K Club.
That's 18½–9½. I repeat: that's 18½–9½ (again).
Well done, chaps!
Sunday Times: X-rated Tolkien: it's not for the kiddies
A darkness is once again descending on JRR Tolkien's fabled land of Middle-earth. An unfinished work completed by the writer's son is such a departure from the world of hobbits that it may merit an X-certificate.
The manuscript for The Children of Hurin, to be published next spring, contains incest, suicide and a multitude of violent deaths. Any film version is likely to have restricted audiences because of the subject matter.
Christopher Tolkien has spent the past 30 years working on the epic tale that his father began in 1918 while on leave from the army. JRR, who was recovering from trench fever contracted during the battle of the Somme, later abandoned the work.
Much of Tolkien's abandoned work was published many years ago in the book Unfinished Tales. I have to say, it's a stonking tale, and it's a real shame he never got to finish it. I don't know why his son felt the need to finish it, as the published (albeit unfinished) version stands on its own two feet.
Anyway, be that as it may, I've just had a thought. Excuse me while I completely nerd-out for a few bullet points (I read an awful lot of Tolkien in my youth, don't you know?):
- The Children of Hurin goes by the full, made-up-Tolkien-language title Narn I Hin Hurin (literally The Lay of the Children of Hurin—Lay meaning poem in obsolete English). So, the word Narn means poem (or poetic tale) in made-up-Tolkien-language;
- Tolkien's best friend was C.S. Lewis, but Tolkien got somewhat pissed off with Lewis because Lewis kept nicking his ideas;
- C.S. Lewis's poor excuse for a Tolkien-rip-off fantasy land was named Narnia;
- … I reckon Lewis based the name Narnia on Tolkien's word Narn—so Narnia would mean The Land of Poetic Tales.
Well, that's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.
(OK, I know, I'll get my coat.)
Tony Blair: Next year I won't be making this speech. But, in the years to come, wherever I am, whatever I do. I'm with you.
Jesus Christ: For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them.
Stense was in town yesterday, so we went for what turned out to be an excellent meal in a local pub.
"Table for two?" asked the landlady.
"Yes please," I said.
"Where about would you like to sit?"
"Somewhere we're not likely to be spotted."
The landlady laughed and gave us a table by the window.
I'm sort of half-watching StarTrek Voyager on telly as I type, and I've just worked out that the so-called science officer is a total fraud. He's just spent five minutes standing in the background pretending to be playing on a computer or something, while some alien doctor (whom I don't trust one iota, by the way) spouted total pseudo-scientific bollocks to some other short-arse alien with spots on his face, whom I gather is one of the crew. So how come the science officer didn't step in there and point out that the first alien was talking through his anus (assuming he has one, that is)? It's obvious: he doesn't know the first thing about science (and no, Mr Science Officer, don't you give me any of your "Emergency containment field activated" nonsense, I'm not buying it!).
Oh, the alien doctor's just died. I guess he didn't have an ulterior motive after all.
(with the emphasis on the bolic.)
Hebden Bridge Times: Replica Fustian Cutting Knife
A giant replica of a fustian cutting knife is a step closer to being built in Hebden Bridge after plans were approved by the Town Council.
Hebden Royd councillors recommended approval of proposals for a "central paving feature" in St George's Square, which would be part of the town's traffic review and pedestrianisation scheme…
Its polished stainless steel blunt tip would point directly north towards Nutclough Mill, former home of Hebden Bridge Fustian Manufacturing Society Ltd.
The feature will replace 12 parking spaces in the parking-space-starved Pennine tourism hot-spot.
