2011 — 11 November: Friday
Four years, Christa!1 If you could see me now, I wonder what you'd say.
The morning is grey and windy, the initial cuppa is brewing, I need to do a spot of supplies shopping, and (for whatever reason) I'm quite glad it's Friday.
Ever onward :-)
Is there anybody...
... out there? Jenny Diski has been reviewing a fat book on the topic. Source and snippet:
We are star stuff, and if star stuff is anything like us, it would be wise to reason, we should be very wary indeed. Ryle and Hawking aren't the only ones who suppose that if they're beeping us, there's something they want, and if there's something they want and we have it, they'll certainly come and get it. Better to err on the side of planet survival and assume that they are greatly in advance of us technologically, and hostile. After all, they've been sending out radio feelers for millennia and we only got our radio telescope the other day.
I have no idea where my random stream of thoughts originates, but it makes me smile sometimes. This morning's example, while bringing the shopping in from the car, was "how much of me, at the cellular level, is the same as the 'me' that Christa knew?" Time for my next cuppa, obviously.
Nor are my thoughts as weird as this. Well, not usually. Fractal cats?
Kermode has just made me hoot with laughter by a cleverly offhand reference to "Broadcast News" that (I suspect) Simon Mayo will no more "get" than he did an earlier reference to "Battle Royale".
Having just blagged...
... a cuppa and a couple of biccies over with Roger and Eileen, it's time (18:21) to finalise my evening meal. It's cold and very dark out there, but warm and bright in here. [Pause] And Peter just checked up on me by phone to make sure I'm not in fullblown meltdown. I'm not, as it happens. What would be the point, in any case? Right. In with my delicious prawn curry, and on with the show.