2010 — 24 August: Tuesday
I'd been having too much fun already this morning1 teasing by email a distant Apple "jailbreaker" (no, not my son) to contemplate anything for my diary. My teasing also led me to a lovely Neil Postman quote2 currently on the Wikipedia entry for him.
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us [of] information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy.
I think Huxley is ahead on points, so far. Then, courtesy of the always-interesting "B&W" newsletter, this wonderful piece of homeopathic satire fell into my lap. Source and snippet:
My personal research into homeopathy reveals that, following dilution, a homeopathic remedy should be 'succussed', which appears to be a specific style of striking, usually with a leather book or perhaps other leather-clad objects. I have, admittedly, never practiced succussion, but I believe (should the post require it) that I shall be able to perform this procedure with no difficulty. Although I have, as I say, no direct experience, I did once affectionately pat a cow at a petting zoo. I have also worked as a cook in several kitchens and tenderised many steaks as part of these roles. A reversal of these two actions would logically lend itself to successful succession (sic).
I also have an uncle Greg who has extensive experience with striking things with leather (although he is legally banned from working with, for or anywhere near the general public following the scandal with the rooster, the toaster and the mail-order bride, so I shall only seek his professional advice if the situation genuinely requires it).
Time (09:44) for my next cuppa and a spot of breakfast. There's some lovely Tchaikovsky on the radio and, bonus, the sun is shining.
Some years ago...
... I transcribed my gently-(laser)rotting LaserDisc copy of "We think the world of you" to a DVD. It seems there's now an animated version of JR Ackerley's "My dog Tulip" to add to the "canine" canon. It's giving a Boston Globe columnist conniptions though Mel Brooks seemed to like it.
It's a dog's life :-)
The first batch of...
... redirected snailmail from dear Mama's former address includes a gem from her bank. It acknowledges her written notification of her change of address, and assures her that all correspondence will be sent to her new address (not starting with this item, obviously). Here's the best bit: if you have other "products" from us, please notify them separately. If you have received this letter and have not requested a change of address please contact our Fraud department immediately. If there's anything else we can help you with, please pop into your local branch...
They haven't really thought this one through, have they? "Get stuffed" is a phrase that springs unbidden to mind. It must be getting near time to top up my blood sugar levels. I shall have a late "lemonses" — it's 12:39, and the sun is still shining.
I think I can now discard the small clipping from a 12-year-old magazine on the art of draining and flushing a central heating system:
In my case, although they got the bit about "crude oil" right, the idiots who installed the original CH system had put the radiator drain-off point on the boiler (which was higher than any of the ground floor radiators). This was but one of several crucial design mistakes.
It's Life, Jim...
I mentioned Dr Shostak only yesterday. He's cropped up afresh in today's Guardian again suggesting that Seti should spend some time looking at signals from places more attractive as habitats for synthetic sentience. One of the comments led me to the Wikipedia article here on the Fermi3 paradox.
It's time for my post-lunch cuppa, methinks. [Pause] Last Friday, Amazon tapped me on the shoulder with a suggestion I might enjoy and got it right. Today, they've done it again, though they are too late. I bought the UK release of this delightful film...
... and watched it, a mere 15 months ago. Excellent recommendation. But I won't be buying it again even if they have used the 'American typewriter' font on its cover artwork. Right. Time to nip out for a supply or two.