2008 — 26 June: Thursday
Early to bed, early to rise, and all that rubbish. Here's tonight's placeholder picture. I don't know — there seems to be some sort of irritating Heisenberg principle at work here. My old slides can be either nicely exposed, or in crisp focus, but (it sometimes seems) not both at the same time.
Christa in the Old Windsor kitchen, 1976ish
We (well, I) still have some of this kitchen equipment, though I remember smashing the large, deep blue mug when its handle came adrift. As for the aluminium kettle; that went West years ago. But her lovely smile lasted for years and years. G'night, at 00:01.
Financial Buffetting... dept.
These are too good to resist. Random example:
[Gold] gets dug out of the ground in Africa, or someplace. Then we melt it down, dig another hole, bury it again and pay people to stand around guarding it. It has no utility. Anyone watching from Mars would be scratching their head.
Large screen irony... dept.
Over the years I bought a series of ever-larger screen TV sets, joking that this was an attempt to get one that clearly showed the balls during Wimbledon. (Christa used to enjoy watching the matches, having been a keen player in her university days.) Now I have a 50" widescreen plasma capable of showing the BBC's high-definition channel and that channel is (I gather) currently1 devoted to the tournament. Have I even switched it on? No! Plus, there's apparently still a "mystery" to digital switchover. (Not counting the mystery of why, after spending £200m, this should be so.)
Heavens! It's just gone 10:00 — time for the breakfast concrete cardboard healthy for the heart stuff.
That Einstein fella, now, he was a clever chap: "No amount of experimentation can ever prove me right, a single experiment can prove me wrong." But I must say, it looks as if the WSJ is unconvinced by climate change if it gives space to this stuff.
Ch- Ch- Changes... dept.
I bought a block-mounted Athena print2 of Dali's 1937 picture "Metamorphosis of Narcissus" in about 1970. It cost me about two week's salary at the time.
I was lucky (I suppose) that dear Mama didn't throw it out (like so much else of my "rubbish") while I was living in my student "digs" in Hatfield — she certainly didn't like the picture. Anyhowsoever, this benighted chap is also glibly unconvinced of its merits:
For all its technical virtuosity, "Metamorphosis of Narcissus" (1937) merely illustrates a provocative idea; its jumble of colors fails to locate the basic impression of a kneeling figure and upright hand mirroring each other across a body of water.
De gustibus non est disputandum, I suppose. <Sigh>
Christa as a young girl
However, if anyone doesn't like this portrait of a very young Christa... well, words will utterly fail me:
All fired-up...
... at Sainsbury's but, since they've restarted baking their well-fired loaves, but sometimes make only one a day, I missed out today, alas. Lovely day out there, however. I must keep in mind that there's more to the world than the PC and screen here in the study! Time (13:14) for the final batch of crocked-pot. Yum, yum.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far away... dept.
Or, in other words, in an old book by Asimov, I was amused at the idea that scientific research (in the distant future) consisted of people reviewing earlier experiments and theories rather than performing any original research. (And, indeed, being greatly amused at the thought of such a quaint approach to science.) Now I read:
Bowles reviews 41 behavioral economics experiments to see when and how material and moral incentives diverge.
Just back from a minor-league expotition for a cuppa tea in the sunshine before the weather changes. By a roundabout route to Hillier's, skirting Winchester and Braishfield to give the Yaris a bit of a run. It's 16:26 and I've yet to scan a single slide! (Makes a change.) By an equally roundabout route (starting, oddly, at the BBC's "Culture Show"), hopping across a Nicholas Roeg link, and ending up here. Good stuff!