2010 — 19 October: Tuesday
Next thing I know1 it's Tuesday, and I now await a morning phone call from dear Mama's GP. Should be interesting. I'm also waiting to hear from Staple's that next Monday will be OK to collect all the broken bits of their bookcases. And I'm waiting for my tea to attain drinkability. The BBC Radio 3 news chap has just told me that shoplifting "costs" us £4,000,000,000 per year, one third of which is accounted for by the staff in said shops. That's honesty on a grand (larceny) scale.
Toesox
I am perpetually bemused by what gets peoples' knickers twisted. And equally by what doesn't. For example, there's an item of footwear useful for yoga. But when a talented photographer (Jasper Johal) takes a picture of a beautiful lady (Kathryn Budig) shown wearing only the item in question in a print ad, sensitive souls' sensibilities are suitably outraged. The picture (which is in my opinion entirely safe for work, rest and play) lurks one click away at this "Guardian" story. Monitus es:
Clever graphic too.
Disaster capitalism
Not a phrase I was conscious of... In the context of the "Bonfire of the quangos":
Public bodies whose purpose is to hold corporations to account are being swept away. Public bodies whose purpose is to help boost corporate profits, regardless of the consequences for people and the environment, have sailed through unharmed. What the two lists suggest is that the economic crisis is the disaster the Conservatives have been praying for. The government's programme of cuts looks like a classic example of disaster capitalism: using a crisis to re-shape the economy in the interests of business.
I could wish not to be stuck here waiting for the GP's phone call. It's nice walking weather, among other things. 11:34 — time for lemonses, I guess. [Pause] I'm starting to suspect (at 13:26) that I won't be receiving that morning phone call today after all...
But I've just heard from Staple's so at least I shall get the garage partly decluttered next week. Of such small steps does progress consist. It's 13:58 and is busily clouding over out there as I munch my healthy ham salad lunch.
Scale of things
This controllable animation takes a few seconds to load, but is worth a look. Very neat.
It's been too long since I last played the 1992 album "Amused to death" by Roger Waters. There's an excellent Wikipedia entry on it, too. I'm just back from a cuppa over the road, and am vaguely wondering about the nature of the accident on our little local stretch of motorway. Perhaps it's a good job I didn't visit the care-home this afternoon. The sky is now (17:26) a cloudless blue, but it's chilly.
I suspect that distant rumbling sound means the tum is in need of an evening meal. It's 18:44 and cold and dark and wet. Yuk. Let the evening revels commence.
Much as I admire...
... Ben Goldacre's tireless efforts on behalf of a rational (or, failing that, honest) approach to "bad science" stories, I still don't get to read him as often as I should. So I missed this cracking opening last week:
You will be familiar with the Daily Mail's ongoing project to divide all the inanimate objects in the world into the ones that either cause or prevent cancer. Individual entries are now barely worth documenting, and the phenomenon is best appreciated in bulk through websites such as the Daily Mail Oncological Ontology Project and Kill Or Cure, with its alphabetised list: from almonds, apples and artificial light; through horseradish, hotdrinks and housework; to wasabi, water, watercress, and more.
Why does the Daily Mail even pretend to be a newspaper, I wonder? Let's hope my small amount of meat and large quantity (and assortment) of veg — ingested a couple of hours ago — isn't even now turning a cell "rogue" as I contemplate my next cuppa. Let alone the dish-washing detergent (which, in my case, I didn't bother with).