2010 — 5 October: Tuesday
Few things are as much fun1 as having to wait in all day for Mr Staples to show up at some unspecifiable time to collect his broken bits and pieces of bookcases. Grrr.
Time (07:55) for my next cuppa.
Bet'cha didn't know that New York has a CAPITAL problem:
In New York City, this will mean replacing 250,900 street signs with signs that cap up only the initial letter. So BROADWAY will become Broadway. A new font, Clearview, has been developed for the purpose. Cost: $27.6m (although, to put that figure in perspective, 8,000 signs have to be replaced every year for $110 each through normal wear and tear).
What means this?
Golly. I had somehow managed to miss Alfred Spector becoming a cog in the Google machine. "We're on the verge now in this semantic world." We are, it seems, (as ever) on the verge of a semantic breakthrough. A throwaway snippet here.
I am morally certain (that is, perhaps 95%!2) that the excellent SF story "Understand" by Ted Chiang that was broadcast by BBC7 last November was accompanied by parts of the music track (#3, "rockets fall on Rocket Falls") on the CD I am now listening to courtesy of my morning Postie — namely, the Canadian band "Godspeed you! Black Emperor" and their album Yanqui U.X.O.
It's 10:58 and I wish Mr Staples would arrive sooner rather than later.
Notable sleeves
In mid-2007 while looking after Christa I was distracting myself during the great "let's re-rip all my CDs to mp3, and do it properly this time" exercise by closely reading some of their sleeve notes. (Example.) Today, during the great "let's scan all the CD artwork before throwing out everything except the CDs themselves" exercise that's now getting started I've just learned, by reading the notes to Robert Wyatt's re-issued "Rock Bottom", that it was produced by Nick Mason (Pink Floyd's drummer), and began on the island of Giudecca while his not-yet-wife and friends worked on that amazing Nic Roeg film "Don't Look Now". That was the last film I saw (in the cinema in Windsor) before I met Christa.
Knowing I have to be here for the (un)delivery chap doesn't do much for my irritation level. It's 15:33 and I can't say what I'm hearing from the Tory party conference is exactly edifying, either. Grrr. [Pause] It's 17:58 and Mr Staples has still yet to appear. He clocks off at 18:00, too, which doesn't bode well for a successful rendezvous today, does it? Double Grrr.
Unstapled
I've just sent the following email. I suspect our relationship may turn chillier:
Hello again.
Perhaps you can help me to understand why, despite my staying at home
from 07:00 until 18:00 today, there has been no sign of anybody wanting
to collect the broken bits and pieces of the bookcases?
I also note that "any credit due" is subject to your terms and conditions
for return. Does this policy really legally apply to goods that were paid
for in full in advance, but delivered damaged and unusable? Then redelivered,
still damaged. Then redelivered a second time, still damaged?
Over to you. Again.
Time for my evening meal.
My customary good humour is...
... being restored by the application of "Boston Legal" therapy. But I mustn't overdose on it.