2009 — 1 February: Sunday — rabbits!
I enjoyed the Elbow concert, and their choices on BBC 6Music afterwards. I did not enjoy the high contrast "dog" put up on the screen once I'd pressed the red button as invited. It just sat there, saying "Menu", and refusing to allow me to dismiss it. So much for interactive Freeview channel 301. Stupid people. I also didn't enjoy the way my accurately timed recording of QI stopped about two minutes before the programme did. That's just plain irritating. Oh well, time for today's last pill — and another picture of Christa:
Christa and the "doorstop" camel toy, Old Windsor
I do wonder whatever happened to that "doorstop" camel. I still have some of her little teddy bears on the bookshelves in her study, but I fear this knitted camel may just have gone the way of all flesh. Or perhaps he's lurking up in the loft somewhere.
I were that busy...
... I never did get the round tuit to reveal Mr Postie's pair of offerings yesterday morning:
Mike told me I "simply had to" get the film, so I did. As for the CD, I'm a sucker for Omar Khayyam-related material (though not to the extent that my late colleague Mike Watts was). Funnily enough, my introduction to the sublime Rubaiyat was via the (almost) equally sublime novel "The shy photographer" I mentioned here. G'night. At, it turns out, 01:10 (yawn).
Earwiggo...
Ten-tenths cloud cover and rather cold out there so far, at 10:54 — time for brekkie and then a supplies foray. (What did cave chaps do before the invention of Waitrose, I wonder?)
"The horror, the horror"
The mighty hunter-gatherer returned in triumph a few minutes ago, clutching inter alia a new box of Ritz crackers, since (as I said) my previous box was well past its "Best before" date. The horror? Well, putting them in their correct place, I discovered another box, already opened, with a new record-breaking "Best before" date: 27.01.2007 — curiously, they are less soggy than the younger batch.
It seems it's an ever-flatter world. This looks promising. While this was just totally off the wall! Flying moose, indeed. (The last moose to amuse me was Morty, non-speaking star of Northern Exposure.)
As I sup my next warming cuppa (at 17:42 or so) I note it's getting pretty dark out there, and is already down to minus 2C. Brrr! I shall have to snuggle around a biscuit at this rate!
Or read stuff like this article. My snippet, this time, is from one of the comments the article has already attracted:
It says more about the quality of British education than about evolution. Evolution is a fact, just like gravity. If you don't understand that then either you have had a lousy education or are very thick. No other options exist. So in that sense the survey makes sense: the headline can then read:
Half of Britons are thick or have had a lousy education.
I'm sure Charles Murray would agree. But wait! It gets worse. The Pope has promoted to Bishop an Austrian chap who said hurricane Katrina was "divine retribution" for permissive sexual attitudes in New Orleans. (Source.) Is there no end to this insanity?
At the other end of the scale, I wonder if Daniel Tammet ever read Children of the Atom by Wilmar H Shiras? It's an expansion of her original 1948 short story "In hiding". And (inevitably) leads me to yet another "Top 50" list to chuck rocks at:
To be fair, I've only read 36 of these titles though I have tried all but five of them. 32 are currently still on my shelves (somewhere!)
R.I.P. Wally Stott
I mentioned him (or her, as he became Angela Morley some years ago) back here. Those of us of a certain age will remember him being credited at the end of Goon and Hancock radio shows in the 1950s.