2015 — 6 May: Wednesday
It's too early1 to be sure that today's tentatively-planned walk is still "on" — when I last checked the weather forecast, it looked more than a little dubious. But the nice fresh cuppa will soothe my throat back into a state that should allow me to sleep again. That's the plan, anyway.
By way of...
... experiment, I've just proved that the sound card is currently alive and well. Let's see if it survives in that state for the next few hours, shall we?
"Abyssinia."
It did...
... I've just used it to blow my mind, once again, with the similarities between the 1976 Eagles track "Hotel California" and the 1968 Jethro Tull track "We Used To Know". The latter only first came to my attention...
... precisely six years ago on one of those freebie CDs stuck to the front of "MOJO" music magazine. But I don't understand how six years managed to whizz by quite so quickly. Perhaps breakfast will clarify matters? [Pause] It's clarified today's walk, at least. The rain, and clear threats of yet more of the stuff, have flashed a red light. Many years of walking to, and waiting at, bus stops in the rain2 have cured me of any great liking for being out and about in the wet stuff.
It's "Catch-22"...
... all over again, but 10 days at a time. I realise our Civil Servants (hah!) are busy people, leading interesting thrill-packed lives. When I received the final batch of paperwork for my application for a Grant Of Probate to administer dear Mama's estate, I duly swore the Oath (technically, I affirmed, since I don't hold with Bible-based promises) and returned the package on Friday 10th April. All the way to Winchester. Everything else being equal, the Grant would be, erm, granted within 10 working days and posted to me, along with the four extra copies I'd requested (and need for sending to the four financial institutions involved). So far, so good.
Cinematic visual effect of fluttering calendar pages...
I phoned the Court this morning. A pre-recorded message warns me that their phones have no "leave a message" facility. All lines are busy. OK. So I sent an email, getting this bizarrely rapid reply within a minute:
"Your e-mail has been received and will take up to 10 working days to process. If you have sworn your oath and as a result of your e-mail, your application can proceed, your grant will usually issue within 7 working days."
What does that even mean? Still, it's always nice to know that my e-mail may have been retained by the Ministry of Justice.
I find this pretty depressing, too. Source and snippet:
Spying on international telephone calls has always been a staple of NSA surveillance, but the requirement that an actual person do the listening meant it was effectively limited to a tiny percentage of the total traffic. By leveraging advances in automated speech recognition, the NSA
has entered the era of bulk listening.
And this has happened with no apparent public oversight, hearings or legislative action. Congress hasn't shown signs of even knowing that it's going on.
Unfunnily enough, it's also closely related to one of the recurring plot threads for a while in "The Good Wife" where it's mostly been treated as material for a comedy of errors and mis-interpretations.
Memories...
... are made from this. It was one of my Xmas presents in 1963:
I built, among other things, an intercom I secreted under Big Bro's bed for a jest. Wonder if he remembers?
Incoming: #3 of 3
Thanks, Mr Postie:
Two decades ago?
From a weekly snailmail to dear Mama:
Today, Christa and I went to see "Carrington," directed by Christopher Hampton and based on Michael Holroyd's biography of the writer Lytton Strachey. Excellent film, with Emma Thompson and Jonathan Pryce. When we got back, Peter had finished his three-page essay on "My House and room" but I'm afraid we insisted on a partial re-write! It is interesting, though, to see ourselves as others see us, he said, ruefully...
Blimey. It brings back memories of an essay about imagined conversations between kitchen implements I was required to write somewhat before my 11+ exam. Aah, schooldays. [Pause] I've been listening to, and quite enjoying, the music by Elisabetta Brusa.