2011 — 10 July: Sunday

CD-ripping is once again within BlackBeast's capability.¹ I had simply applied my activation key against the wrong level of program code. "My bad" as the yoof of today say.

It's 07:48 but with mostly pale grey clouds out there. Time enough to pack a lunch while the rains come and go.

I love the sound of breaking glass

Is there anything quite as edifying as the spectacle of newspapers in glass houses chucking stones at one another?

James Murdoch would do well to reflect again on The Absence of Trust. Only closer to home this time. He and other senior management at News International should desist from lecturing the rest of the British media in light of their baleful performance over the phone-hacking affair.

Over 40 years, Murdoch convinced the establishment that he can make or break political reputations and grant or take away electoral success. In doing so, he has come close to gelding parliament, damaging the rights of citizens and undermining democracy. It is legitimate to ask how a naturalised American, domiciled in New York, born in Australia, and who pays next to no UK tax, holds so much sway. What right exactly did this man have to exert such influence over our political life? Freedom of information requests reveal that he spoke to prime minister Tony Blair three times in the 10 days that led up to the Iraq invasion in 2003. This was a perversion of our politics, orchestrated by a man whose power the establishment failed to check. Then they had to live with the demeaning consequences.

Editorial in The Observer

Or, at least, as entertaining? (Mind you, Evelyn Waugh was there years ago with his "Lord Copper" character in Scoop.)

Right. Time I wasn't here, since I now need to be there. Where's my showerproof jacket? [Pause] A slightly delayed start while we waited a few minutes for my visual zig-zags to disperse. Turned out there was no need for showerproofing at any point during our 6.3 mile ramble in a loop around Overton (avoiding all the scarecrows that are part of a local festival). In fact it was warm and rather humid. And I now know I can even smell clover without fits of sneezing.

I now need to soak a blister, but that's another story. It's 14:46 and still a mixture of sun and cloud hereabouts.

Suitable suits

A cartoonist named R.J. Matson drew this for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Strikes me such an item could sell quite well in and around Westminster, New Scotland Yard and "Fleet Street" (that is, Wapping) at the moment:

Love the picture here. I note this Wikipedia entry is bang up to date :-)

Colour me, what, purple?

The sun didn't do much shining during our walk but how's this for an odd colour?

And here's a nicely gnarly ol' dude:

Both pictures courtesy of Mike's pixellating apparatus.

Lazy Sunday afternoon

It's just possible, I suppose, that a case could be made that perhaps I don't generally deploy either of my Dyson sucking machines with quite the frequency that I "should". Such a case would be thrown out by anyone who'd just watched me empty both freshly-filled dust reservoirs a few minutes ago. And that was just the dust under my bed, dammit. Having been reminded by the Matson cartoon above, I was actually looking for the clipping from an ancient "New Scientist" magazine that reprinted the cartoon² drawn by "Jak" for the Evening Standard.

I need a better filing system. Actually, I could start with a filing system.

It's only 22:59 but I can barely keep my eyes open. G'night.

Footnotes

¹ Technically, its owner's, I guess.
² The one that nearly brought Fleet Street to a halt by depicting some of the shortcomings of the printers employed there in those equally ancient days before all that "new technology" introduced by people such as Murdoch, funnily enough.