2011 — 3 November: Thursday
If this story is to be believed1 my choosing the Asus Tablet PC (on Len's advice) was a good decision. Certainly, I've only the one quibble with the handy little device, and that's the way the touchscreen attracts finger marks. Source and snippet:
"Despite the iPad 2 being a finer tablet in the purest sense, the Asus Eee Pad Transformer offers so much more," Stuff's consulting editor, Simon Osborne-Walker, told the BBC. "The clip-on keyboard means it can be as much about productivity as leisure. Best tablet? No. Best netbook? Probably not. But as a combo of the two — awesome."
I'd go along with that. Though it doesn't make tea. [Pause] The weather forecast suggests that my next supplies foray needs to be earlier rather than later in the day. And I was actually woken by the sound of heavy overnight rain several hours ago. I'm sure it's good for the garden (or something).
One can always dream, I suppose:
I have this message to bankers: give some of it back. By "bankers" I mean everyone who has made a heap of money in the financial sector over the last quarter-century. By "it" I mean money, moolah, dough, as in that glossy shopping supplement to the Financial Times with the beyond-parody title How To Spend It. By "back" I mean back to societies, at home and abroad, which are now suffering as a result of a crisis that began with these financial institutions; societies which then had to bail out some of those institutions because they were "too big to fail". By "give" I mean give.
Never going to happen, Tim, except (occasionally) at gun point or (just possibly) after contemplating personal mortality. Mostly it's a system of "(don't) give and (do) take". And were I asked is there anyone to be singled out for mild culpability for the self-evident failures of this crazy global system of spinning plates, smoke, and mirrors I have to go quite far back in time and admit I'd point gently and vaguely in the approximate direction of President Raygun and Attila the Hen (to name but two) with their predelictions for dismantling regulatory controls and kowtowing to "the markets". As I remarked some while back, cartoonist Ron Cobb got there early.
Living in Hampshire, but buying my cooking gas from a series of supposedly competing companies, based who knows where, and paying taxes, if at all, to who knows where, while only ever using the one pipeline never struck me as fully rational. Same with electricity, water, and telephone.
Eee, I were that busy...
... installing 17 day's worth (113MB) of accumulated updates on the Linux 11.10 system up in the reading room (whose window is now largely obscured by my nascent paperwork filing system — don't laugh) that I've only just realised my window of shopping opportunity is currently rain-soaked. I suspect I can make do until tomorrow. It was a pleasant discovery, however, to see that I can spool hi-def video files from the Terastation downstairs for flawless playback on the Linux PC default system with no tinkering needed.
Sadly, there has been tinkering needed elsewhere. I've once again expunged my DVDO video scaler from the A/V system as I simply cannot tolerate the hit-or-miss approach to playback from both the Freesat hi-def PVR and the Tablet PC when they're hooked up via said scaler. Back to my simple but reliable passive hdmi 4-into-1 switchbox and the slightly greater effort needed to get up and walk to it rather than playing the usual game of hunt the remote. Doesn't bother me: I need the exercise.
I would have been...
... happy to browse this delectable new arrival while I was enjoying a soothing splosh a few minutes ago...
... except that I heard it being thrust through my venetian blinds only after I'd commenced my splosh. 'Twas ever thus. It's actually the second Museum monograph I have on the work (and in this case, a lot more about the life) of this fascinating artist. The first (not yet physically located on the shelves despite a 15-minute search, but still lurking virtually in one of my database files) dates back to 1977 and (I think, from memory) accompanied an exhibition at the V&A. Until that point, I was far more aware of Gill's type designs than of his sculpting and engraving skills.2
It's only 16:48 but getting distinctly dark out there. I shall have to put on my porch light for the bed collector. [Pause] Who, arriving while I was in mid-meal and over an hour ahead of schedule, has now picked up the bed, paid, and departed. The evening thus now belongs to me.