2012 — 31 May: Thursday
I know I should know better1 but my initial choice of listening has been the national radio station sometimes described as the one run for (or by?) Home Counties fascists. Not any more. I baled out after an earnest discussion about the 49-minute median waiting time for treatment to start in A&E departments in what's left of our glorious National Health Service hospitals. It then moved on to some story that seemed to be about heaters in churches to help bats (in the belfry, perhaps?) I gave up paying even a tiny bit of attention.
I always feel so, erm, cross and dirty after listening to the various useful idiots trotted out to opine and sort-of argue with one another in the service of balance and political correctness. Not to mention the urgent need for a return to economic growth regardless of the effect on the environment because, heh, what's the environment ever done for us?
I've just spent...
... the last couple of hours wrangling with a database of my high bit-rate MP3s, but the various anomalies I've found (shock, horror) will now have to wait until after today's leisurely stroll around Braishfield.
[Pause]
Exactly 8.5 miles later (not to mention a ham sandwich and a pint of HSB at "The Newport", plus a shower, plus some laundering) I can resume my wrangling. Partial results (only slightly anomalised) are now here, but there remains quite a hill to climb. It's now 15:59 and the lower limbs have more or less recovered.
Made me chortle. (Link.)
Thanks, Mr Postie
I read a couple of the Michael Dibdin "Zen" novels a while back, during one of my crime thriller phases, but had no idea the BBC had recently made a series from three of the early ones:
See what happens when you stop watching the stuff they broadcast?
Just brushed off an unwanted cold-caller. When he three times ignored my polite but firm "About what?" it was that he wished to speak to "Mr Mounce" he cracked and impatiently suggested I should instead just listen to what he had to say (that is, while he read out his script). I simply wished him a good day and put the phone down.
I still think my technique is less brutal than claiming to have just been given three months to live...