2010 — 28 April: Wednesday
Methinks the Martians...
... have landed in my garden. Or maybe I'm just tired. It is 00:27 after all. G'night.
Tee-hee!
Or should that be "chortle"? From time to time, Big Bro attempts to illuminate the darkness of my primitive thought patterns. His latest overnight salvo may even have been inspired / provoked by my photo of yesterday's twilight moon. (I just thought it looked attractive through my study window, but let that pass.) Evidently unaware of my prior exposure to certain ideas and concepts he has, in turn, provoked me into sending him a response this morning that (in my defence) was before I'd even had my morning cuppa, let alone any breakfast:
I'm guessing you're unfamiliar with a favourite book of mine: Powers of 10? Mrs Google will repair that lacuna. Plus, recall, my 50-year addiction to SF. Finally, note that most of what we laughingly call the "known" universe consists of what we unimaginatively call "dark matter". And, besides, where did all Dirac's anti-matter go? Or as the Bard might ask: How's your philosophy, Horatio?
If breakfast improves my feelings of goodwill towards him, I may even reveal what he sent me. It's 08:59, I have a lunch date, and the latest crockpot is now safely embarked on its journey towards hot tastiness — I hope!
What a load of...
This has to be the silliest headline, and further supports my decision to stop paying directly for the Guardian...
It helps to know the names of UK Cabinet ministers, of course. (Recall William Langley's tale of a youthful Tom Stoppard.)
I used to worry about owing (at its "high" point) £32,000 on our mortgage. There were times (poverty level IBM salary, remember) when it seemed a steep hill to climb. Contrast with the US Treasury's figure for the national debt "to the penny" you can see here. Unless I've mislaid a few powers of ten, I figure a little over 6,000 "Avatars" will just about settle things.
Sorry about the missing image. I've just (16:46) got back from an adventure. [Later] After the crockpot that refreshes, and the inevitable ceremony of the tidying up, I'm just trying to find an excuse to use that lovely word "ineluctable". Give it time; I'll get there. I've also been reading as much as I can find about the new Mac Mini / Leopold Server package, but it seems churlish not to try the latest churn of Ubuntu first, somehow. On with the (peep)show.
Here are some of the images I received overnight from Big Bro.
Crikey!
Even though I clearly remember reading Alan Garner's The Weirdstone of Brisingamen to Peter many years ago, and being stopped by him on the grounds that it was too scary, I'd managed to repress just how scary bits of it actually are. Not the magic or fantasy bits; just the bits crawling through flooded tunnels under Alderley Edge — I had a similar problem when watching The Wooden Horse with Christa...