2010 — 2 February: Tuesday
Another placeholder. Tomorrow is, after all, another day. And looking like a very wet one to boot. "Looks like we have a few damp and dismal days ahead of us" in Mike's words. Yup. When shall we twain walk again, I wonder?
Here's an edited version of what Terry Pratchett said a couple of hours ago. Well worth reading1 (even by an elderly bishop or two). G'night, at 00:56 or so.
Slow on the uptake
It only just occurred to me (as I deliciously dozed this morning after the initial morning clattering around outside had died down) that retirement turns every day into a sort-of Saturday, in the sense that you can have a lie-in, you aren't in thrall to a batch of IBM managers (intelligent and benevolent though one or two of them may well have been — intermittently), and indeed you are (as a widower) as free an agent as you choose to be. What's more, you can have a cuppa whenever you want. How cool is that?
It's 09:51, not yet raining, and I'm being told by the BBC about mosaics found in the city of Ur.
Come in, number #7
George Miller's number seven interestingly crops up yet again in a different context... multitasking. Something IBMers seemed to pride themselves on. Source and snippet:
The consensus today is that there are overlapping but neurologically distinct systems: one of controlled attention, which you use to push yourself to read another page of Faulkner, and one
of stimulus-driven attention, which kicks in when someone shatters a glass behind you.
But those scholars also became intrigued by the range of individual variation they found. Some people seemed to be consistently better than others at concentrating amid distraction. At the
same time, there were no superstars: Beyond a fairly low level of multitasking, everyone's performance breaks down. People can walk and chew gum at the same time, but not walk, chew gum,
play Frisbee, and solve calculus2 problems.
I wonder if I'm alone in thinking that you cannot simultaneously praise Britain's "firm commitment to equality of opportunity for all" while criticising "limitations on the freedom of religious communities to act in accordance with their beliefs". Well, not logically. (Source of this Papal Bull****.)
And Wole Soyinka has chipped in, too. I live in a cesspit of Islamists, apparently.
That's it. I'm out to lunch — or will be when my neighbour fires up his little wagon.
Back, in time to catch some of Kenneth Clarke's examination of Sonny Rollins (while reading the equally illogical statement concerning "natural justice" from one of our female Catholic MPs). Where, I wonder, is the nearest Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster? I fancy it's time for me to become a Pastafarian.
This tickles the funny bone:
The letter is a masterpiece of understatement, combining pre-emptive rebuke with a shame-faced plea for greater attention and, by implication, protection from cuts in a time of cutbacks.
Sir Michael begins with an observation that may prove useful to those unaware of the religious affiliations of the Pope or the defecatory habits of bears. He states: "Public confidence in official statistics is low and there is a perception that official statistics are subject to political interference."
You mean like, say, removing mortgages from the cost of living index?
I see Ms Short has been making things "Clare" in front of the Chilcot inquiry...
I never realised "submariner" was a euphemism. (The lady came out rather well, by the way, in Chris Mullin's recent diaries.)
Somewhat later...
... I'm now gently digesting the product of my very own, miniature, premature, Shrove Tuesday. Having been given a useful tip on longer-term storage of those ready-made pancakes I discovered yesterday (thanks, Lesley!) I also unearthed the sugar shaker (castor?) but it's not been used for over two years and whatever was in it has obviously "set". No matter; I improvised. Not sure (this) man can live entirely on pancakes, of course, but as an occasional treat I'm prepared to add them to my repertoire.
On with the evening. It's 18:19 — what's next, Mrs Landingham? A cuppa? Good idea!
Saved by the...
... jolly useful little program WildEdit. And not for the first time, I should add. I used it to fix a niggling deficiency on some 1,300 files on a website not unadjacent to this one. <Blush>