Verwünschter Grieche!

I expect Angela Merkel is spitting blood and biting the carpet this morning after the Greek Government agreed to Papandreou's proposal to hold a referendum on whether or not to accept the Eurozone's rescue package. It is usually the case that the Greeks are the architects of their own misfortunes, but this is taking it a little too far, nicht wahr? Having fiddled their way to bankruptcy they now seem determined to drag everyone else down with them. There'll certainly be some fireworks at the G20 meeting tomorrow when Papandreou turns up!

Papandreou has given himself two chances to completely screw everything up. First, there's to be a 'No Confidence' vote in Parliament. If he loses that there'll be a general election, the outcome of which is anybody's guess. If Papandreou wins, there'll be referendum on the rescue package and again, the outcome of that is anybody's guess. And maybe if someone else wins, they'll have a referendum too. So we're left with a double dose of uncertainty and the only people who make any money out of it are the currency speculators. Gott in Himmel!

It is so typically Greek to fail to think ahead and, when faced with the resulting mess, to spend so much time arguing, contradicting and being downright bloody minded instead of just getting on with sorting it out. And then having agreed a solution, to do something else. We've been employing a builder and an architect with similar qualities.

G20: Robin Hood Tax

Those awfully nice people over at 38 Degrees have a petition on the go to put pressure on our estimable Prime Minister David Cameron to support a Robin Hood Tax when he meets up with his chums at the G20 Conference at the end of the week in Cannes.

Here's a video featuring Bill Nighy which explains the idea behind the Robin Hood Tax.

So click on the 38 Degrees link and sign their petition, and click on the Robin Hood Tax link to send an email to Cameron. We've checked it with the Pope and so we all agree:

The Pope has come out as the latest supporter of a Financial Transaction Tax after a note released yesterday (24 October) by the Vatican called for a reform of the international financial system. The note, released by the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, recommended the implementation of a tax on financial transactions “with costs proportioned to the complexity of operations, especially of those carried out on the ‘secondary’ market.” The Vatican also proposed that funds raised by the tax be used to help low income countries suffering the effects of the financial crisis, stating that "Such taxation would be very useful in promoting global development and sustainability according to the principles of social justice and solidarity. It could also contribute to the creation of a world reserve fund to support the economies of the countries hit by crisis as well as the recovery of their monetary and financial system."

 Of course, if you're feeling energetic you could go to Cannes as well and engage in some direct action.

Επέτειος του «'Οχι»

Another year goes by and it's Ohi Day again (yesterday) when the Greeks celebrate President Metaxas telling Mussolini in 1940 to take his spaghetti with meatballs and put it where the sun don't shine. Sadly, it did them no good; Mussolini invaded anyway and thus brought Greece into World War Two, with a subsequent invasion by the Germans after the Italians went soft. These doingses prompted the Communists to organise as part of the resisitance, supported by the Allies. But when it was all over, the Allies wanted the non-Communists in power so a civil war followed. Then things got really messy, what with the Cold War, Turkey sticking it's oar in and Henry Kissinger creating unrest all round, in cahoots with the Military Junta. After that all calmed down (a bit). There followed a series of ineffectual governments of either ilk but all equally corrupt, presiding over a lackadaisical and tax-fiddling population, and here we are.  So the marching bands have been out and about, parading along the promenade, and the Mayor has given a speech, and everyone has waved a flag. And people have had a day off work. It all seems a bit irrelevant, what with one thing and another.

Paintergate

Last June, we had a ramp and metal gate installed for the back yard to facilitate the parking of the redoubtable motor car 'Bertie'. This operation cost us several hundred Euros and the job was satisfactorily done but what they didn't tell us was the gate would not be painted. So it has inevitably fallen to me to do said painting on this trip. A bit fiddly and time consuming; working with metallic paint being a new experience for me. It's more kind of glutenous than ordinary gloss. Any road up, here's the gate all black and shiny. I'll probably apply another coat of paint before we leave, seeing as the winter is approaching.

Thelonious

Set aside an hour and a half sometime over the weekend and watch this documentary, produced by Clint Eastwood, about Thelonious Monk. Your life will improve.

Schadenfreude Vol.39 & Vol.40

I don't generally take pleasure in the misfortunes of others, but there are exceptions. For example, Manchester United deserve to have things go wrong from time to time because they always expect everything to go right all the time. So it was rewarding to watch them lose by such an embarasssing margin last weekend to Manchester City, especially as the result came about not just because City played well but also because United were rubbish. It's not often they just collapse completely as they did in the last quarter of an hour.

David Cameron, however, is a vacuous twit and deserves to have everything go as wrong as possible all the time, so the post-modern irony of him having to deny the rabid section of the Conservative Party a referendum on membership of the EU was very enjoyable indeed. His inner squirmings must have been terrible, having waffled on in the past with such contrived outrage about the lack of a referendum only to find now that he has to accept that such a refrendum would be not just pointless but counter-productive. And he had to use a three-line whip to enforce his will on MPs whose demands he had previously endorsed- which 81 of them defied. Brilliant.

About Time!

Who knows if it is going to make any long-term difference to the fate of the globalised economy but it is refreshing at least to see that under the terms of the Eurozone rescue agreement, 'The Banks' are to write off 50% of the money owed to them by Greece. At last, the bastards who've been profiting by screwing up the financial system will have to suffer, if only at the margins. Now what is needed is for the Greeks generally to stop fiddling their taxes - which has been their way of life for years and has contributed to their deficit. And, presumably, the EU will make sure that the Greek government no longer cooks the books.

No doubt, the banks will try to recoup their losses by some devious means or other so vigilance is the word!

Funk Assessment #273: Sam Cooke - Shake

You're probably more familiar with the Otis Redding version of this tune but, believe it or not, I think the original by Sam Cooke is actually more funky than Otis'. Accuse me of heresy if you like, but Sam takes it at a slightly more relaxed, looser tempo and the the brass section works better, kind of more homogenous. But the killer blow is the additional guitar which goes off the beat just before the fourth beat of the bar and the way this counteracts with the drums. Groovy. What both have in common however is the rhythm guitar chunking away throughout. Full info over here.

Lot 233 - John Lennon's Tooth

If you are a Beatles fan and a practitioner of somatic cell nuclear transfer, get yourself down to Meadow Mill, Water St, Stockport, SK1 2BX on Saturday 5th November 2011 when Omega Auctions will be selling:

JOHN LENNON TOOTH – this truly unique piece of memorabilia, a tooth of John Lennon’s, was given to his housekeeper, Dorothy (Dot) Jarlett during her employment as housekeeper at his Kenwood home in Weybridge, Surrey. Dot was employed at Kenwood approximately between 1964 and 1968. John had a warm relationship with Dot and her family, often referring to her as ”Aunty Dot” and even naming his dog Bernard after Dot’s husband. John was to give many gifts to Dot and her family over the years, some of which have previously been sold by the family through Sotheby’s. The tooth, being such a rare item has been kept in the family until now and comes with a sworn legal affidavit by Dot Jarlett attesting to the authenticity.

With just a little patience and some willing live human volunteers, you could create a clone of John Lennon from the period when he was at his creative peak, and before he hooked up with Yoko. Sounds like a plan, eh Igor?

Armageddinouddahere

Just in case you've forgotten, today is the end of the world according to the estimable Harold Camping. He had thought it would be May 21st but when it wasn't, he revised his prophesy to explain that that was when God began judging, which would take five months. The five months finishes today so your number is up - unless you are one of the Chosen who gets raptured up to Heaven (or something like that). More details available at Camping's website. Camping reassures us that the Unchosen will not suffer unduly so you Chosen ones need not worry about the rest of us weeping and wailing and gnashing our teeth.

Names

(From  Futility Closet)

In 1960, Cambridge graduate Ron Hall announced a discovery he called Hall’s Law: “For any sufficiently large group of people the average number of initials possessed by members of that group is a direct measure of the predominant social class of the group.”

Hall’s computer analysis of the English aristocracy found that dukes averaged four names apiece, marquesses 3.96, earls 3.92, barons 3.53, baronets 3.49, viscounts 3.41, and knights 3.06. As modern examples he named John Selwyn Brooke Lloyd and Hugh Todd Naylor Gaitskell; those from the past included Admiral the Honorable Reginald Aylmer Ranfurly Plunket-Ernle-Erle-Drax, a commodore of convoys during World War II, and Major Tollemache-Tollemache de Orellana Plantagenet Tollemache-Tollemache, who was killed in World War I.

From across the sea, an American newspaper observed, “It would be interesting to know what the worthy major’s parents called him in his boyhood years.”.

With only three names, it would seem I fall below the status of Knight. But there are certain relations of mine whose parents seem to have delusions of grandeur. The poor blighters have been given five names despite merely being middle class and not at all ennobled...

Crackers

Imagine you are the Managing Director of a company that manufactures and sells cheese crackers. During the course of business you meet suppliers and customers, travelling overseas, identifying markets, negotiating deals, and so forth. For no apparent reason you decide to take an old friend of yours along to some of these meetings, cheese cracker conventions and the like. This friend of yours is not an employee of the company but he has his own business cards bearing the company logo claiming he's an 'adviser', and he spends a lot of time in your office. By a series of amazing coincidences he also turns up at other cheese cracker marketing events where you happen to be. Nobody really knows why he's there but your suppliers and customers can see you are 'close' so go along with it. It's all a bit unclear who is funding this frend of yours but he seems to have some kind of link to a shady organisation set up to promote Anglo/USA relations (whether concerned with crackers or not). Meanwhile, this friend of yours, who has absolutely no knowledge or experience of the cheese cracker business, has done nothing of any benefit to your company.

It wouldn't happen, would it? The other directors would be asking who is this fellow; the CEO would be wondering what's going on, and your shareholders would be puzzled. But to Liam Fox, former Secretary of State for Defence, the idea was quite unremarkable and he ignored all advice to the contrary. Crackers.

Isn't That Amazing?

Chickenshed: The Rain That Washes

An evening excursion yesterday to the Chickenshed Theatre for a performance of The Rain That Washes, a one-man show about the independence struggle in Zimbabwe. Written by Dave Carey, based on the experiences of Christopher Paphose, the play covers the story from the time of Ian Smith and UDI up to Mugabe's treacherous takeover and imposition of his authoritarian and oppressive regime.

Ashley Maynard excels in performing this demanding multiple-role piece, swapping between characters convincingly and never missing a beat. It is very well-written and directed, keeping the attention at all times, and covers a lot of ground without dwelling on any particular aspect of the sorry tale of Zimbabwe's transition from colonization to tyranny. Hope, innocence and inspiration falling into disillusionment and brutality is subtly portrayed without becoming preachy and self-righteous. Recommended!

Last chance to see on Saturday 8 October.

Todd Rundgren at the Jazz Cafe

Here we see some more stars of show biz performing on a stage formerly trod by our Phil who was there a little while ago playing drums for Acer Maple.  (You can see our hero in the background of the Acer Maple photo.)

On this occasion, however, we were at the Jazz Cafe to see one of the world's greatest beings - Mr Todd Rundgren.

Wonderful. Despite being billed as 'An Evening with...and Special Guests' it was in fact Todd and his band of the last several years comprising Prairie Prince on drums, Kasim Sulton on bass, Jesse Gress on guitar, and new boy John Ferenzick on keyboards. All except Praire provided backing vocals. It wasn't exactly a 'Greatest Hits' occasion, but Todd played stuff from throughout his fine career, some of which was rearranged a tad. Todd did most of the gig just on vocals, occasionally playing guitar and whipping out a flash solo. Todd's voice is fantastic, as strong as ever despite his 45 or so years on the road. He was in fine wise-cracking  form, and jumped about a fair bit for a man of his years. He did sit down for the 'quiet' bit of the show, however. An extra treat was a cover of Marvin Gaye's 'I Want You'. Spiffing. 

The full set list can be found at setlist.fm and Todd, of course, has a myspace page.

Five stars, but the Jazz Cafe really should upgrade the toilets.

16th Note Shuffle

Members of the Xorg Collective are already familiar with the walking funkyness that is Mr Bernard Purdie. He appears on many recordings hearabouts: Steely Dan, Aretha and many more. This little video is excellent - I like the way he pretends to surprise himself with the hi-hat. As an erstwhile bass player, when I listen to this it just makes want to, erm, git dowwwn and engage with those good old dropped thirds, maaan. Hit me.

Cupcakes?

Well, there you go. You blinked and you missed it. The week before last was National Cupcake Week. Another marketing initiative, as most of these 'Weeks' are, this one being organised by the self-appointed media organ of the baking industry British Baker. It was given some social legitimacy by also including fund-raising for the childrens' cancer charity CLIC Sargent. Any road up, this year's champion cupcake maker is Jennifer Buls who runs the online cupcake shop Absolute Treats.

Cupcake is, of course, the American name for this confection which was hitherto known in England as a  'fairy cake'. Please yourself. Whilst some people . . . some people like cupcakes exclusively, I myself say there is naught, nor ought there be, nothing so exalted on the face of God's grey earth as that Prince of Foods . . . The Muffin!

Johnny Depp Goes Up In The World

Here we see the erstwhile Cap'n Sparrow pretending to be a rock star and, ermm, jamming with Alice Cooper - who looks a little beyond his 'Best Before' date. Mr Depp, however, seems quite spritely, wearing clothes which purport to make him look like someone not famous but which, in fact, make him look like someone trying not to look like someone famous. At least Mr Alice looks consistently wretched, with or without make up.

Be that as it may, the semi-dynamic duo are performing at the 100 Club on the very stage previously trodden by none other than our Phil with his hotter-than-hot jazz/rock/pop combo Hanzo. Mr Depp is reported to have exclaimed "Wow! Hanzo played here? Jeez! That's so cool! I'm on the same stage as Hanzo! Wow!"

Alice's post-jamming remarks were, sadly, stifled by his oxygen mask.

(See post for 2 March 2010)

The UARS Who Fell To Earth

NASA have announced that their "decommissioned Upper Atmosphere Research Satellite (UARS) fell back to Earth between 11:23 p.m. EDT Friday, Sept. 23 and 1:09 a.m. Sept. 24...The precise re-entry time and location of debris impacts have not been determined. During the re-entry period, the satellite passed from the east coast of Africa over the Indian Ocean, then the Pacific Ocean, then across northern Canada, then across the northern Atlantic Ocean, to a point over West Africa." NASA don't know exactly how many bits of the satellite eventually survived re-entry - they estimate 26 components could have survived - or where they are but they would like anyone who finds a bit to let them know, via a 'local law enforcement official." Stand by for all manner of loonies to report having found old tin cans, kettles and bottle tops that fell from space. PC Plod will have his work cut out with this little episode.

I find this a bit mystifying. Somehow or other, the Powers That Be can read my car number plate from space but they can't track their own satellite. The military can use other satellites to guide a cruise missile into Gaddafi's back garden but not to track this piece of junk that they've known for years would be falling to Earth. If I wasn't so level-headed I might suspect this whole thing has been a decoy to cover up something else.

We Have Nothing To Fear But The Sky Falling On Our Heads

According to NASA's current prediction, their redundant Upper Atmosphere Research Satellite will re-enter the Earth's atmosphere sometime tonight or tomorrow morning. About half a tonne of the six tonne satellite is expected to survive re-entry and it could land, in bits, anywhere between 57 degrees north and 57 degreees south. That's just about everywhere that's populated, apart from western Canada, northern Siberia and Alaska. So I guess it's Goodnight Vienna, or Scunthorpe, or Macclesfield, or Paris Texas, or wherever you are. Should be good to look at as it falls to Earth.

Downrange Spread of Surviving Debris:

There's a .pdf of the NASA risk assessment here.

The Doubt Grenade

An entry for the Eagle Awards, an advertising competition in South Africa. (Click on the picture to enbiggificate.)

E=MC2 or Maybe Not

Here's a quote from a research paper produced by the Brainy Boffins conducting the OPERA (Oscillation Project with Emulsion-tRacking Apparatus) experiment at their Gran Sasso laboratory:

An early arrival time of CNGS muon neutrinos with respect to the one computed assuming the speed of light in vacuum of (60.7 ± 6.9 (stat.) ± 7.4 (sys.)) ns was measured. This anomaly corresponds to a relative difference of the muon neutrino velocity with respect to the speed of light (v-c)/c = (2.48 ± 0.28 (stat.) ± 0.30 (sys.)) ×10-5.

What this apparently means is the the Eggheads have managed to get some neutrinos to travel faster than the speed of light by about 6,000 metres per second. Using the CERN particle accelorator in Switzerland, they fired some neutrinos over the 730 km distance to Gran Sasso in Italy and calculated that the neutrinos had arrived there before a beam of light would have, i.e. 60 billionths of a second earlier. This is counter-intuitive and, moreover, messes up Einstein's Theory of Special Relativity. The Guardian reports Subir Sarkar, head of particle theory at Oxford University as saying:

"The constancy of the speed of light essentially underpins our understanding of space and time and causality, which is the fact that cause comes before effect. Cause cannot come after effect and that is absolutely fundamental to our construction of the physical universe. If we do not have causality, we are buggered."

Of course, this research has to be tested and verified by others. As eny fule kno, time, distance and speed are relative so if you get the measurement of time and distance wrong then the calculation of speed will be wrong. No doubt the Russians and Americans are cranking up their accelerators, checking their tape measures and winding up their clocks at this very moment. Or maybe they did next week and they've already got their results tomorrow. We here at Xorg Inter-Galactic suggest that perhaps the neutrinos didn't travel directly from Switzerland to Italy but perhaps went via another dimension, arriving back in Gran Sasso slightly out of synch with the Boffins.
Addendum: If you were to travel by road (quite a scenic route across the Alps) from CERN to Gran Sasso it would take you 8 hours and 44 minutes to cover the 930 km. Approximately. Unless, of course, you were to encounter a trans-dimensional anomaly along the way.

Revenge of the Entanglification Demons

Once again the wires have taken over and been inevitably entanglificated. They have apparently begun to replicate themselves, leading to misery and disaster. I'm pretty sure that there was only one extension plug there yesterday and that it only had two thingies plugged into it. One of these wires managed to wrap itself around the leg of the computer table with the result that when I moved the table a Macbook fell to the floor, incurring a couple of dents and a bent lid. Fortunately there was no functional damage, so full marks to Mr Apple and his designers. A reward is on offer for the successful capture of said demons.

Apples

 At this time of year there is a surfeit of apples. It seems that everyone one you know has an apple tree (or several) and they've got some apples for you. Before you know it, there's an apple mountain festering in the larder. But Fabmary has the solution and has perfected the classic approach for apple disposal strategy - a pie. Note the snazzy design on the top.

Another Reason to Move to Belgium

This is a chart based on research done by UNICEF in 2000 measuring relative child poverty as a proportion of population in the OECD countries. The data is a bit old and note that it is a relative measure i.e. of households with children where the income is less than 50% of the national median. So a 'poor' child in America is still a lot better off than a child in many other countries in the world. And a poor child in 2000 is better off than his or her counterpart was in 1959, for example. Nevertheless, one thing it does indicate is that in those countries where economic and social policies are geared towards the redistribution of wealth, there is less child poverty. For example, Sweden, Norway, Finland and Belgium have scores of around 4% or less whereas in America the figure is around 22%. So it would seem that if your aim is to reduce child poverty then you should reduce taxes on the low paid and increase taxes on the high paid. Rather than thinking about doing away with the 50% tax rate, therefore, George Osborne should be increasing it to 60% and increasing the threshold above which tax becomes payable thus taking low paid households out of tax altogether.

How To Save A Billion

An extract from the debate in the House of Lords on the Welfare Reform Bill, 13 September:

Lord Low of Dalston: Tony Blair is reputed to have asked what you had to do to save £1 billion on welfare and been told that a million people had to lose a thousand pounds. The Government’s welfare reforms are aimed at saving £18 billion. That is an awful lot of people who have to lose a thousand pounds—or rather more if you want to reduce the number of losers. Many of these losers are disabled people, the most vulnerable in our society, whom the Government have pledged to protect.

[House of Lords, Official Report, (Hansard), Vol. 730, No. 194, Col. 668]

Assuming the Government is not going to have a go at pensioners - always politically a no-go area - then the 5.8 million working age benefit claimants (of one sort or another) had better watch out. Note: Only 2.5 million are off sick or unemployed, the others are claiming Housing and/or Council Tax Benefit and could be working or retired, and there are 0.6 million 'lone parents' i.e. widows, single mothers/fathers. See DWP website.

Album of the Day: Bill Frisell - Unspeakable

Nifty guitar, laid back, jazzy, funky, added sounds.

"'Unspeakable' is the rare jazz project that confronts dance grooves and electronica without surrendering to them. Frisell reacts to the beats and samples but never imitates them; he always seems to be proposing alternative methods for divvying up the same pulse or evoking the same mood. Thus we get the best of both worlds -- the power of electronica and the personality of an idiosyncratic musician." Geoffrey Himes, The Washington Post

See Bill Frisell website for more info. Probably not in stock at your local supermarket but you can get it on t'internet.

Anarchy is the Best Policy

From the latest issue of the London Review of Books

Quarterly GDP data don’t, on the whole, tend to make the person studying them laugh out loud. The most recent set, however, are an exception, despite the fact that the general picture is of unrelieved and spreading economic gloom. Instead of the surge of rebounding growth which historically accompanies successful exit from a recession, we have the UK’s disappointing 0.2 per cent growth, the US’s anaemic 0.3 per cent and the glum eurozone average figure of 0.2 per cent. That number includes the surprising and alarming German 0.1 per cent, the desperately poor French 0 per cent and then, wait for it, the agreeably frisky Belgian 0.7 per cent. Why is that, if you’ve been following the story, laugh-aloud funny? Because Belgium doesn’t have a government. Thanks to political stalemate in Brussels, it hasn’t had one for 15 months. No government means none of the stuff all the other governments are doing: no cuts and no ‘austerity’ packages. In the absence of anyone with a mandate to slash and burn, Belgian public sector spending is puttering along much as it always was; hence the continuing growth of their economy. It turns out that from the economic point of view, in the current crisis, no government is better than any government – any existing government.

Belgium does, of course, have a lot of social and economic legislation already in place (Keynesian rather than neo-liberalist)  but I always suspected that if only the blighters would leave us alone to get on with it and desist from forever changing, reforming and restructuring then things might just tick along nicely!

Orford Ness: Atom Bomb Test Site & Nature Reserve

It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good.

There's a shingle spit to the east of Woodbridge, Suffolk. Pretty much uninhabitable but Lord Braybrooke built a lighthouse there in 1792 and a martello tower was erected as a defence against potential invasion by Napoleon and his French hordes. In 1913, however, the Ministry of Defence realised its potential as a weapons testing site and began dropping bombs, firing bullets, throwing hand grenades and generally having a smashing time. They built an airfield, radar stations, and various military quarters there. At one point German prisoners of war were held there (although not for target practice, I hope).

With the invention of the atom bomb it became necessary to develop effective ways of ensuring accurate delivery of said weaponry to its target. This was in the days before reliable missiles and computer modelling, so the atom bomb was actually dropped and they had to be sure that the impact would not damage the detonation system, and that the bomb would pierce it's target. So the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment did loads of tests at Orford Ness, dropping bombs from planes and monitoring how they fell, with or without parachute retardation, so that bomber crews could be properly trained in aiming the bombs. Don't worry though; the bombs were unarmed so there's no nuclear residue. I wonder how relevant this was, given that an atom bomb is designed to cause massive destruction over a wide area so it wouldn't matter if you missed Stalin's bunker by a hundred yards or so. But there you go. It kept them off the streets.There's a small exhibition in which you can see an actual atom bomb, the WE-177.

All this became unnecessary with the development of guided missiles so eventually the MOD abandoned the site and handed it over to The National Trust. Any unexploded ordnance has been removed from the site (fingers crossed) and The National Trust have just left it alone to allow nature to come back and re-take possession. Paths, buildings and lumps of concrete remain but otherwise, apart from the (new) lighthouse there's nothing there except birds, flowers and a few sheep. Of course, being flat, cold, barren and windy it's not very hospitable so the birds keep a low profile and the plants are extremely small and hardy.

Sky Broadband

Older readers may recall how slow t'internet used to be when it was first invented. These days we've got used to things happening in the blink of an eye but out here in the wilds of Suffolk, life remains slower than an arthritic tortoise. On my home planet we have fibre-optic cables so there's not much loss of signal - entropy laws decree there must be some, and there are metal connectors - but hereabouts the signal travels along a telephone line several hundred miles long until it arrives at the house completely out of puff, if it gets here at all. To make matters worse, the wireless hub is somewhat under-powered. This whizzo technology is provided by Rupert Murdoch's estimable organisation 'Sky'. Suffice it to say that it does not live up to it's billing. Speeds of up to 20Mb, my arse. More like 11 Kb. And the signal repeatedly justs drops out altogether, requiring a chap to reconnect all over again. And again. And again.

We suffered some inconvenience in the 29th Dimension when fibre-optic cables were installed fifteen years ago, what with the roads and pavements being dug up, but we rarely have connection problems and these are usually the result of external factors such as some cretin at the controls of a JCB digger not looking what he's doing. Moreover, Mr Branson's people at Virginmedia actually upgrade the service frequently without even being asked. You're lagging behind, Murdoch.

Cheese

This is completely stupid. You answer a few questions and this gizmo tells you what sort of cheese you are. I have no idea how it was determined that 'putting friends and family first' is related to a particular variety of cheese, but there you go. And some people say that the internet is a waste of time!


Cheese Test: What type of cheese are you?

Days Like These

Last Wednesday I spent the first five waking hours thinking it was Saturday. This caused untold confusion when reading the Radio Times.Today, however, I know that it will be Saturday tomorrow so it must be Friday. That's alright, then.

Mash Up: Paperback Believer

Edinburgh Jokes

The self-styled 'Home of Witty Banter' TV channel Dave has sponsored an award for the Funniest Joke at this year's Edinburgh Festival, which has been won by Nick Helm:

"I needed a password eight characters long so I picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."

Not bad, not bad. Some of the others are quite good too:
Matt Kirschen: "I was playing chess with my friend and he said, "Let's make this interesting". So we stopped playing chess."
Alan Sharp: "I was in a band which we called The Prevention, because we hoped people would say we were better than The Cure."

I'm Special

Wesley Scroggins: So It Goes

You're probably thinking I've made up this bloke's name but no, he's an actual person. So, what's up with Mr Scroggins? Well, he's been giving Christians a bad name.

Actually, that's Dr Scroggins to you; he has a Phd from New Mexico State University and he's an Associate Professor in Management in the College of Business Administration at Missouri State University. He is a resident of a small town called Republic in Greene County, Missouri. As such, he raised a complaint last year with the School Board  of the Republic High School about three books which he considers contain material - language, storylines, characterisations - which is 'contrary to what The Bible teaches'. The School Board has duly considered the matter and have 'banned' two of the books: Twenty Boy Summer by Sarah Ockler and Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. The ban means that these books won't be part of the curriculum at the school, nor will they be stocked in the school library. Students can of course still get the books elsewhere either from a public library or from Amazon, but if they have them in school or cite them as 'independent reading' then students must have a letter from their parents giving permission.

I haven't read Twenty Boy Summer, but by all accounts, it seems to be quite relevant for teenage Americans as it deals with peer pressure, relationships, loyalty, and the death of someone close. Sarah Ockler has responded publicly to point out how dumb this 'ban' is and the Vonnegut estate has responded by offering free copies of Slaughterhouse Five to students of Republic High School.

Slaughterhouse Five is one of the best books of the 20th century and is very moral indeed, highlighting the futility of war and pointing out that 'good guys' often do bad things. If Kurt Vonnegut were alive to hear of this 'ban', I expect he would be laughing his socks off. Especially as the Bible itself contains many tales of rape, slaughter, treachery, adultery and so forth - some of it sanctioned or initiated by the main protagonist himself: 'God'... However, it does not feature a race of aliens from Tralfamadore or a central character, an optometrist called Billy Pilgrim, who is lost in time. Or Kilgore Trout, more's the pity.

Scroggins is another of these American idiots who fail to grasp that under their much-vaunted constitution, church and state are separate. What the Bible, or any other holy book, teaches should not therefore be a consideration when it comes to determining the school curriculum. And when you think of the quantity and variety of different interpretations of exactly what it is that the Bible, or any other holy book, might teach, it's just as well.

I haven't been able to confirm this but, as I understand it, Scroggins does not actually have any children at the Republic High School. In which case it's none of his business anyway. Ho hum.

Scrabble Word Checker

For any Scrabble aficionado, enthusiast, devotee,fanatic, junkie, freak, nut or maniac out there, here is an official Scrabble word checker:




From the Collins website. Publishers of the official Scrabble books.

A tight jockstrap...

When Zambian tennis player Lighton Ndefwayl lost to his compatriot Musumba Bwayla in a local tournament, he had a considered and lengthy excuse for his defeat: "Bwayla is a stupid man and a hopeless player. He has a huge nose and is cross-eyed. Girls hate him. He beat me because my jockstrap was too tight and because when he serves he farts, and that made me lose my concentration, for which I am famous throughout Zambia."

And it looks like someone also lost their concentration when writing out his name.

(via  The Independent)

Riots 2

Wood Green was back to 'normal' yesterday, swarming with a mass of diverse humanity but with extra police, although some shops were boarded up awaiting repairs: Quicksilver, O2 phoneshop, Next, H&M, Leather Shop, Specsavers, Vison Express, Boots and Bodyshop (amongst others). So the rioters have got themselves new trainers, leather jackets, Ray Bans, mobiles, shirts and trousers, and they smell better.

This is from Charlie Brooker's article in The Guardian today, in which he takes the p**s out of the rioters -

"Why the obsession with trainers? Trainers are s**t. You stick them on your feet and walk around for a while 'til they go out of fashion. Whoopie doo. Yes, I know they're also status symbols, but anyone who tries to impress others with their shoe choice is a dismally pathetic character indeed – and anyone genuinely impressed by said footwear has all the soaring spirit of a punnet of moss. There's no life to be found in "look at my shoes". There just isn't."

Albums I Bought In 1966

Freak Out - The Mothers of Invention

Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys

Revolver - The Beatles

Aftermath - The Rolling Stones

Blonde on Blonde - Bob Dylan

Fresh Cream - Cream

The Monkees - The Monkees

(My excuse for the Monkees is that my great-aunt Ada had provided the funds and I felt duty bound to get something she'd heard of and wouldn't cause domestic ructions. Actually, it wasn't too bad as these things go.)

Merryn Makes A Chair

Riots

David Cameron recalled Parliament to debate the riots of the last few days and has made a big speech. That'll sort the problem out alright then. The MPs have all had a good grumble and expressed their outrage and now they can all go back on holiday, safe in the knowledge that their travel costs between Tuscany (or wherever) and Westminster and back can be claimed on expenses.

Nathaniel Tapley has written a well-observed article on his blog in which he draws a comparison between the behaviour of the rioters and that of David Cameron and Boris Johnson, amongst others, whilst members of the Bullingdon Club at Oxford: drunkenness and pointless vandalism. Tapley also points out how MPs should be the last people to criticise others for acts of short-sighted greed, given the expenses scandal and other acts of dishonesty perpetrated by our Honourable Friends. Worth reading.

Retribution has been promised for the rioting miscreants, but it would also be a good idea to look a bit more deeply into the issue to find out why the rioters behaved as they did. It's not as simple a problem as Cameron would like it to be.

Slender Threads in Edinburgh

Hello! I am on tour with Chickenshed at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. We are doing a show called Slender Threads, about the effects of a breast cancer diagnosis on a family. It's a tough subject! I am doing the technical side of things...this involves sound, video projection and being confused by the lighting desk. We got here on the 3rd of August and had some time to get used to everything in our flat. I'm sharing with Kieran, Michael, Mark and Phil C. My name is now Phlaines.

So ... our performance space, the Zoo Roxy. This used to be some kind of church and then was refurbished in 1909 as an Art House. The space is nice, a bit different to what we are used to at Chickenshed but it has a nice old character. It looked a bit small when we first got in but we all fit fine. We had 2 hours to tech run the whole show, which really wasnt enough. Also it didn't help that the brand new expensive projector mount broke so it wasn't safe to hang. So I used some brains and went to Homebase and bought a washer and fixed it. It was a stupid design. It's all going well so far, we have had a couple of good reviews and the 'Critics Choice' in The Times for dance. We had a critic in from The Scotsman today...I think she gave us a standing ovation or she could have been really eager to leave. Anyway this other review came out today which is a really good one and should help us with our lacklustre ticket sales: The List.

Anyway I'm going to make some spicy chicken now. Oh yeah we are also running a childrens show in the morning called Tales From The Shed, in the downstairs space of the Zoo Roxy called The Warren. I have to play the piano and make stupid noises - I'm pretty good at that.

Bye.

I've Thought Of A Way To Get Out Of Here!

[Where G is the universal gravitational constant,

M is the mass of the planet, star or other body, and

r is the distance from the centre of gravity].

The Correct Use of Dissonance

Things That Should Be Disinvented No. 43

Blister Packs

Why do manufacturers still insist on enclosing stuff in this wretched packaging? Impossible to open without a sharp knife and/or scissors, thereby risking severing an artery or major flesh wound. And sometimes damaging the product in the process. Surely maufacturers have also found themselves on the receiving end of blister packs and would thus have sent their designing chappies back to the drawing board to come up with an alternative. Or even a perforated edge along which one could tear. But it's probably more likely that they will come up with a new gadget specially designed for opening blister packs, reasonably priced at three times the cost of a pair of scissors...

Don't You Ever Learn

Quantum Suicide

Quantum Suicide is a scientific thought experiment. The scientist sits in front of a gun that is set up to either trigger or misfire, depending on the decay of a radioactive atom. With each run of the experiment, there is a 50% chance the gun will trigger. Under the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics, the gun will eventually kill the scientist. But if the 'many-worlds' interpretation is correct, then at each run of the experiment there will be a universe in which the scientist lives, and another in which he dies. The scientist can only ever be conscious of the world in which he LIVES, and so never seems to die. This leads to the fanciful speculation that the many-worlds interpretation implies all conscious beings are immortal.
(Imagine the scientist, realizing he cannot die, stepping outside the lab and seeing for the first time what is worthwhile about existence)

[via Blather]

Rugby League Super League XV

Last week, I received two complimentary tickets for the Super League XV match between Harlequins and Warrington Wolves. They were a consolation price in a free prize draw thingy - I had been hoping to win a Mini Cooper, but there you go.

I am not remotely interested in Rugby League, Super or not, so I offered the tickets to various people of my acquaintance who I know are interested in rugby, sport in general, or who have some geographical connection with either team. There were no takers for the tickets and only three people even bothered to reply.

Eventually, only 3,842 punters attended the match at the 'Twickenham Stoop', where the ground capacity is 14,816, and it rained heavily all afternoon. It must have been a bit glum in the stadium - the match itself was apparently a one-sided affair with Warrington Wolves the easy winners at 54 points to 24. It would seem that the general apathy towards this fixture was not misplaced!

Hiromi at Ronnie Scott's

It was my pleasure last week to be the guest, along with Our Phil, of Chamberlain Enterprises at Ronnie Scott's 'Jazz' Club for a performance by the exceedingly talented pianist Hiromi with her trio, comprising Anthony Jackson on bass and Steve Smith on drums.

Hiromi is classically trained but plays jazz, so what you get is a kind of jazz/prog rock fusion with a few funky bits thrown in. Her technique is immaculate, and statistical density presents no problems for her. However, she does know when to hold back and be cool and, importantly, she certainly gets the best out of her supporting musicians (both of whom are at least twice her age and very seasoned). She's quite a performer and leaps about, jumps up and down and smiles and laughs a lot, which is unusual for jazzers who are usually too focussed on being cool. A fantastic, dynamic set with loads of contrasts and occasional humour too. You can download her latest album Voice from Amazon for £6.49. Recommended.

I will spare you the usual moans about Ronnie's rubbish toilet facilities, ridiculous drinks and food prices, and cramped seating.

Well Done, Sherlock!

It's never happened before, folks! The Well Done, Sherlock! award for spotting the bleeding obvious, and something the rest of us have known about for ages, goes to a collective rather than to an individual. Yes. The Well Done, Sherlock(s)! award goes on this occasion to the collected politicians of the UK Parliament who have at last acknowledged that Ruper Murdoch is a slimeball and not  the kind of guy who should be running a vast media organisation with the power to make or break a politician's career (or anyone else's career or life, for that matter). I find it highly ironic that although nothing substantial about Murdoch or his corporation has changed since last month, last year, or the last General Election, all of a sudden these Guardians of The Nation's Well-Being want nothing to do with Murdoch and All His Works whereas they were hitherto queueing up to lick his boots. I'm particularly impressed with Cameron who can't distance himself fast enough from his erstwhile chums. Unfortunately, I doubt if he's in the clear just yet - Andy Coulson and Rebekkah Woods may yet return to haunt him. This one will run and run (Ed). Meanwhile, Well Done, Sherlocks!

Make Everything OK

The magic button

Anniversaries

An interesting week for anniversaries this week. On Monday it was the anniversary of the 1921 truce between the IRA and the British Government in the Irish War of Independence. Of course, that was not quite the end of the trouble and on Tuesday, the (Northern) Irish celebrated Orangemen's Day when they annually try to re-start the war, in commemoration of the Battle of the Boyne, although it's not quite so clear these days what they hope to gain from it. We have Bastille Day tomorrow, which triggered the French revolution in 1789 - and the French remain bloody awkward. Friday brings the anniversary of the Greek Junta/CIA sponsored coup d'etat against Makarios in Cyprus in 1974, which led to the Turkish invasion and so forth.

But more significantly, in cosmological terms, we have the first Neptunian anniversary of the discovery by Earthmen of the planet Neptune. That is, although Earthmen discovered Neptune in 1846, it is only one year, or orbit of the sun, so far as Neptune is concerned. (Apparently, Galileo had seen Neptune some years before but thought it was a star rather than a planet.) Since the recategorisation of Pluto as a dwarf planet in the Kuiper Belt, Neptune is the outermost planet in Earth's solar system.

More info at the redoubtable BBC.

Chickenshed: Slender Threads

A works outing to the Chickenshed Theatre the other day for a preview performance of their Edinburgh Festival Fringe show 'Slender Threads'.

It's a multimedia show involving dance, theatre, pre-recorded audio and visual projection. The production centres on how a family deals with cancer, and the tensions it creates. Not what you might call cheerful. But it is a subject that most of us will have to face up to either directly or indirectly at some time.

As a 'fringe' show, the production necessarily has a small cast and minimal props/scenery and so forth. But a massive production would be inappropriate for the subject matter. Imaginitive use of audiovisual techniques, and convincing performances by the actors maintain the focus and the aim is to get you to think about it. A quite considerable technical achievement. So if you're in Edinburgh between 5 and 28 August, check it out at Zoo Roxy (The Loft), Venue 115, 2 Roxburgh Place, EH8 9SU.

Meanwhile, you could also sponsor or take part in the  Cancer Research 'Race for Life'.

Bromhidrosis

In today's Guardian; "Mosquitoes lured to their death by synthetic odour of smelly feet."

An enterprising scientist, Fredros Okumu, is developing a mosquito trap that emits human odours to entice unsuspecting mozzies towards enzappification and an early death. He's getting some of his funding from Bill Gates so it's good to know all that money Microsoft have had from me over the years is doing something worthwhile.

The news that the exquisite little inconvenience known to us regular folks as stinkfoot has been responsible for one's mozzie bites will no doubt be welcomed by the manufacturers of 'Odour Eaters' sprays and insoles. However, there might be some fun to be gained in our house by leaving El Prez's feet exposed to the atmosphere and lying in wait with one's swatter to zap the buggers as they approach. Provision of the necessary olfactory defence systems notwithstanding.
See also Le Post for a French perspective on FZ's analysis of this phenomenon.

Todd Rundgren

Another in our series of reminders of the existence of Mr Todd Rundgren.

He'll be playing four gigs in England in October. Representatives of the Xorg Collective will be attending the show at the Jazz Cafe on 3 October. Our esteemed chums Lord Pantaloon and Co will be at The Ritz in Manchester on the 1st.

Just one small complaint. The tickets are sold via HMV and there is, as usual, a booking fee and so forth. But a new dodge is that if you get the tickets via e-mail, they charge another pound. A rip off, methinks, as it costs HMV nothing to send an e-mail.

Meanwhile, Todd has an 'official bootleg' album out 'For Lack of Honest Work', a 3-disc set featuring live versions of his 'hits' played by various line-ups over the years.

Hendrix on the Radio

BBC Radio 6 broadcast a one hour documentary on Jimi Hendrix at 3.00 a.m. this morning : Hendrix on the Radio, available for a week on BBC iPlayer. Worth a listen, although there's no new information or insights for the cognoscenti; the focus is on Jimi's sessions for the BBC in 1967, and there's the soundtrack for the famous appearance on the Lulu TV show. The album of Jimi's BBC sessions has been deleted but can still be obtained via Amazon Market Place for about £7.

Hendrix sounds just as good now as he did at the time. Innovative, electrifying, and generally rather groovy.

Wimbledon

Another outing for members of the collective, to Wimbledon for the day.

Not being members of the rich and famous or even the cognoscenti, this involved queueing for tickets so we had a very early start. Up at 4.30 am to drive to the Underground, then take the tube to Southfields, walk to Wimbledon and begin queueing. We arrived at 7.09 am and by 11.11 am were seated in Court No.12. Fortunately it was a nice day, I had an interesting book to read, and so the waiting went by fairly easily.

We watched a complete Ladies Singles match between Wickmayer and Kusnetsova, which was quite a good match and entertaining because Ms Wickmayer, a Belgian of Austrian descent, got very passionate and excitable. She made a most ridiculous noise every time she hit the ball: it sounded like she was saying a secret word, like 'omni'. See video below. The other noise you can hear is Kusnetsova who made this pathetic little 'euuurrr' sound in response to Wickmayer's 'omni'. Wickmayer emerged the victor.

Next up were Melzer and Tursanov, two Gentlemen who had to finish off their match from the previous day. Again, a good match although Melzer was clearly the better player, and won in the end. Tursanov was reliant solely on power rather than craft. By then we had been sitting down for four hours so decided to wander about a bit. The catch with that is by doing so, you lose your seat and will have to queue up all over again either there or elsewhere.

So we saw bits of other matches on the other courts here and there, got bumped into a lot by the general throng milling about, and discovered the extortionate prices in the Wimbledon shop and throughout the concession stands. Seven quid for a glass of Pimms, which was two-thirds ice, and £870 for an 'official' blazer. Caramba. Eventually, the rain came about 7 pm so we left and ended up at 'Ed's Diner' where some high-cholesterol grub was consumed with relish, coffee and a milk shake. Spiffing.

The Wimbledon chaps have got the whole thing well organised, and the stewards are awfully nice. Football clubs could learn a thing or two.

Michael Gove

Michael Gove. He's an annoying little sh*t, isn't he?
(I could go into some depth in respect of the shortfalls and fallacies in Government education policy, not to mention the cack-handed approach of Mr Gove. But what's the point? He's not paying attention.)

Pygmalion

A works outing last Sunday to Shaw's Corner in Ayot St Lawrence, Hertfordshire for an outdoor performance of George Bernard Shaw's play 'Pygmalion'. Particularly apt as Shaw's Corner used to be where the great man lived from 1906 until he donated it to The National Trust on his death in 1950. It's worth a visit if you're at all interested in Shaw - if only to see his revolving shed where he did most of his writing - but there's loads of artifacts and memorabilia lying about. It's pretty much as Shaw left it.

There can't be many people who are not familiar with 'Pygmalion', if only because of the musical 'My Fair Lady' which was based on it. Shaw himself nicked the idea from the Greeks; Pygmalion was the King of Cyrprus who made a statue of Aphrodite which he fell in love with and so he prayed to the goddess to bring it to life. She instructed him to kiss the statue and Hey Presto, Bob's yer uncle. He and the statue went on to have a son who was named Paphos. Thankfully, Shaw left all this rather weird and deviant behaviour out of his play and just stuck to the concept of transformimg something base into something fine and cultured. But through work and technical expertise rather than pagan mumbo jumbo.

I studied 'Pygmalion' in the Fourth Form at school (age 14/15) and was cast as Higgins by my English teacher who observed that I was an 'old cynic' just like Higgins. Harumph; is it any wonder I bear the psychological scars I do?

The performance took place on the patio of the house and the audience were placed on the lawn which slopes downwards from the house. We were invited to bring a picnic and our own chairs. No sound system was in use, so the actors had to project and use their skills to ensure we didn't miss any of the dialogue. Most of the actors managed this well enough, although some were better than others. The chap playing Colonel Pickering, however, didn't look as if he would manage to complete the performance - he was a bit ancient and doddery. But the central protagonists, Higgins and Eliza, did well and were convincing. Higgins was perhaps a little too rambunctious and voluble but that's OK. The fellow playing Alfred Doolittle stumbled occasionally over his lines but, again, he looked like he's probably close to retirement so I'll let him off. Nevertheless he delivered the 'undeserving poor' monologue well enough - this is a particular moment where Shaw slams home his Socialist views in a viscious satire of the Poor Laws. (The Reform Movement and the Progressive Liberals were campaigning for legislation to repeal the Poor Laws at the time Shaw was writing Pygmalion.)

Any road up, a jolly pleasant evening. Loads of our chums were there so we enjoyed a very sociable picnic as well as Shaw's erudite discourse on class, social mobility, poverty and prejudice.

Vultures

Those Wacky Sons of Sun in the financial sector have dreamed up another spiffing wheeze for making money out of nowhere. Which the rest of us will have to pay for in future taxation.

The Greek economy is collapsing and the Greek Government seems likely to default on its loans from the financial sector, which it obtained by selling Government Bonds to the financial sector. Some of the whizz kids who bought these bonds are getting nervous and worry that they won't get their money back, so they are selling on the debt to other whizz kids at a discount, thereby cutting their losses. For example, they might have 100 million Euros of bonds but in order to get something back on them they'll sell them on for 60 million Euros rather than lose everything. The other whizz kid buys these discounted bonds in the hope that the Greek Government gets another bale out from Germany, the IMF, the EU or wherever because they reckon that when there's a bale out they'll be able to demand and get the full face value from the Greek Government and thus make a profit, in this example, of 40 million Euros. A neat trick if you can pull it off.

But where does the money for the bale out come from? Either by taxes raised by the German  Government, EU, IMF or whoever by them borrowing the money from the financial sector. So once again, Governments end up borrowing money from the financial sector to pay back the money they borrowed from the financial sector. And eventually, when the wheels come off, us poor mugs who pay our taxes foot the bill for the whole shebang.

Art

This chap's ancient TV show The Joy of Painting keeps cropping up at odd times on various cable/freeview channels. His creepy delivery is somehow strangely mesmerising. I think he's been dead for some time now.

Anyway, his particular schtick was that he would paint these bucolic landscapes using very few colours and a minimum of strokes, leading you to believe you could do the same and produce a painting fit for any biscuit tin in a mere 28 minutes.

Funk Assessment #29 : Aretha Franklin, The Weight

Now then, now then. What's funky about this record? Besides Aretha herself, that is.

Everything.

Funky slide guitar by Duane Allman, alongside the funky Muscle Shoals house band (more info on Muscle Shoals here), with funky groovemeister Jerry Jemmott on bass. Funky backing vocals, and snappyfunky brass section. Maybe it's the bass that's the most funkiest of the funkageness... or the drums...you decide!

Incidentally, what we also have here is an example of a cover version that was worth doing; Aretha almost makes it into a new song.

I'm Not Happy With (vol.27): Luton Airport

"Were you truly wafted here from Paradise?"

"No mate. Luton Airport."

Right well, to begin with: this place styles itself as 'London Luton'. Listen: it's not in London, and nobody in Luton or London thinks it is. It's in flippin' Bedfordshire, 35 miles from London and there's Hertfordshire in between. Assuming there's no road works, pile-ups, fog or the usual congestion it will take at least an hour to drive from Luton, Bedfordshire to London in London.

And... every time you go there, the layout is different. They've erected some new barriers, changed the access to the car park, moved the pay stations or somesuch. And they make you pay for everything; want a luggage trolley? That'll be a pound, thank you. Want to drop someone off? That'll be a pound, thank you. Picking someone up? One pound, thank you.

And another thing. If you're picking up a disabled person you can't go straight to the 'disabled' bit of the car park, leave the car and find the disabledee. You have to park, get yer ticket, find the cripple then, assuming they've got a Blue Cripples Badge, find a functionary who will do the necessary on your car park ticket to absolve you of the extortionate car park fee - not easy at 1.30 am. Meanwhile, although the airport functionaries will wheel the cripple in a wheelchair to the perimeter of the car park, they don't provide a luggage trolley. They use another wheelchair instead.

And you have to find all this out by yourself, through bitter experience. Harumph.

FabMary's Photos: Gigs

Over at FabMary's blog she mentions the difficulties red lights can cause a person when photographing your favourite teenage rockin' combo. Here's one she took at t'Albert Hall of His Highness Jeff Beck when the lighting guy went all blue. Quite nifty really. I like the way the audience are all sitting enthralled,  reflecting the blue light and, because he has a white light on him, Mr Beck is the only one with any other colour. Just goes to show that all you are ever actually photographing is light.

ASUS K52F-EX963V

About a month ago I invested in a new computer. Despite pressure from some quarters to buy a Macbook Pro, on grounds of budgetary responsibility I opted for a PC-type running Windows 7. The fact is you get more for your money - the equivalent Apple, although probably better qualty and more 'cool', would have cost three times as much. Moreover, there would have been some problems in training El Prez to use a Mac alongside the PC she uses at work. So here it is, and I'm quite chuffed with it, on the whole. An i5 processor, 640 gb hard drive, 4gb RAM. All the usual plugholes including an HDMI socket. Battery life is 2 and a bit hours in normal use. 

Wot I Been Reading

Reading of books has taken a back seat of late as I have been studying Words and Music, a level 3 Open University course as part of a BA (Humanities) Degree. It has been hard going although often enjoyable and fascinating, and I have encountered lots of music (e.g. opera, South Asian, and Renaissance) which hitherto had been a mystery to me. Just at the minute I am struggling with an assignment in which I am required to compare Regis' Missa L'Homme Arme with Byrd's Magnificat. I am bound to say that I find the academic approach to music analysis a tad contrived and indulgent, not to say turgid. But there you go.

Any road up, I have managed to squeeze in a few tomes meanwhile, three of which are:

The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett - the twenty-somethingth book in the Discworld series. The story features Cohen the Barbarian leading The Silver Horde of ageing heroes as they seek to return fire to the Gods, with explosives as interest. The wizards and Lord Vetinari get involved to stop them, using a flying ship and...so on, with hilarious results.

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A Abbott - written in 1884 as a satire on social hierarchy but intriguing as it challenges dimensional perception. He pretty much agrees with me that there may well be lots of dimensions we don't know about. Reassuring to discover this bloke had the same thought as me, one hundred years earlier, and I'm not as mad as the glazed looks I receive would suggest.

Riders of The Purple Sage by Zane Grey - his first successful book and definitive of the genre (ahem). It features religious and sexual oppression, cattle stampedes, shootings, heroism, horses, revenge and big hats.

Meanwhile, the fortnightly London Review of Books has been providing some erudite, incisive and informative reading matter including articles/reviews on subjects such as Laurent Gbagbo, the American Civil War, the Afterlife, higher education, espionage in World War II, and many more. Very stimulating - I only wish I could remember it all.

Entanglification

As you can see, the Entanglification Pixies have paid us another visit and conspired to muddle up a conglomeration of wires that do who knows what. Originally, all that I had in this spot was the loudspeaker, the wires from it to the amplifier, and the mains plug. Somehow or other, the wires have multiplied themselves and added bits of hardware which may or may not be connected to each other in some mysterious way unbeknownst to me. Not only would the Health & Safety Executive not be happy with this disarrangement but, given my ageing and failing eyesight, there is a serious risk I will tread on something here and render it unserviceable. Perhaps those responsible - if they be Earthly beings and not in some way connected with the Pixies and/or Maxwell's Demons - will do something about it.