Bye Bye Broadband

Well, this is it. Finally moving out of my beloved (but ludicrously
expensive) rented flat in Stockbridge, to go housesitting for three
months in far less agreeable surroundings!



Good news: It's cheap. Very cheap. Which is good, because I can't
really afford to live where I have been up to now. Not really. I can
afford to survive here, but only as long as I don't
do anything. That's no fun.

Bad news: It's exactly the wrong side of town for work - fifteen minutes less in bed in the morning! Boo!

Good news: It has TV. This is a novelty for me. In fact, it has digital TV. Interesting.

Bad news: NO INTERNET. Wah! How'm I going to survive?



Of course, I will still have internet at work, but it won't be the
same. So what I'm saying is, y'all will be seeing a lot less of me for
a bit!

Feelings

The feeling that your life is somehow several sizes too small.

I'm so very sorry that... (call for list)

On BBC Radio 4's News Quiz this evening, the topic of obscure apology
cards came up - the point being that while shops might stock cards
which say 'I'm sorry I missed your birthday', it's harder to find cards
for things like 'I'm sorry I dressed up as a suicide bomber and took
part in a demonstration while on parole for a drugs offence.' And it
occurred to me that in this era of home printers, cafepress,
etc., there's really no need for some of these awkward apologies
to be left off the shelves. So I tried to think up a few more common
ones that Hallmark don't seem to have covered:



"I'm sorry that...



"...I bullied you at school.

"...I took you to see that terrible movie.

"...the apple I offered you at break had a maggot in it.

"...I borrowed your house while you were on holiday and had wild parties in it.

"...I didn't really buy your a Ferrari for your birthday.

"...I told you The Biscuit Joke.

"...I stole the car, drove it to Vegas and sold it for gambling cash.

"...I stole your milk.

"...I stole your cat.

"...I stole your husband. etc., etc....

"...I'm not taller.

"...you're not taller.

"...being so damn apologetic all the time.

"...I threw a plate at you. (You still deserved it, but I'll apologize anyway, because I'm a lot nicer than you)

"...I'm sorry your ancestors were abducted and sold as slaves by my ancestors.

"...I'm sorry my ancestors were Welsh.

"...I'm sorry you're Welsh.

"...about the Welsh.

"...we hired a complete stranger to tell you you were adopted.

"...I walked through the house wearing my pig-slaughtering clothes.

"...I scared you with that gag with the teeth.

"...I was born.

"...you were born.

"...I wasn't born richer.





more generally:

"I'm sorry my ancestors did bad things to your ancestors."

"I'm sorry about the uneven drift of technological progress since the Renaissance.



And of course:

"I'm so sorry about the baggage retrieval system they have at Heathrow."



Any other possibilities spring to mind?

Personal mythology (1): the Basilisk

When I used to live in Bristol, there was a particular square in a
particular shopping precinct which I really didn't like:



The square is a lifeless space; the buildings around it are
tired and sullen, brutal in showing their age. The place smells of cold
and concrete, with the occasional whiff of sugar nuts from a stall on
the far side of the square. All around the square, glass separates the
crowd from the merchandise; shoppers step around one
another, no eyes for anything outside their own private communion
with the glossy mannequins. Their unseeing movement, their total lack
of
care, their eyes and thoughts constantly on the other side of those
generous panes of glass… this is where it lives, where it can feed off
the unconcern. Where it can lounge in plain sight and still nobody
notices, their eyes tuned to merchandise, their minds turned inwards.


This is the home of the basilisk. I can feel it. I can practically see it. It
fills the entire space, curled in on itself, dozing.



I can feel its satiated eye as it lazily watches me.

Capitalism

(One thing about flying - the overall experience might suck, but the views are great)



So! Capitalism. Yeah.



I have a glib little theory about capitalism, which is this: capitalism is a system for creating monopolies.



Here's the way I see it. Capitalism is based on competition. That's all
fine and dandy, but competition is an inherently unstable state.
This seems to suit certain industries (plumbing is the one I keep
thinking of), but in other areas, competitions have a tendency to be
won. And then monopolies are created. I'm guessing this is to do with
the costs of entry into an industry - where they re high, you have a
natural tendency for monopolies to evolve. This is natural, and
unsurprising. I'm pretty sure I was taught this stuff at school.



Ooo, look! Snowdonia!



Sorry, got distracted by the view. Anyway, what I find surprising
is the regularity with which competitions are being won right now.
Maybe it's me, but there seems to be a tendency at the moment towards
consolidation, and few starter companies muscling in. Maybe this is
just because mergers make headlines, while startups don't...



Ew. Big black smear in the sea suspiciously close to that power station. Grim.



...Er, what was I saying? Oh yeah.



Okay, forget all that. What I was trying say was very simple: just like
pure oxygen, pure capitalism kills. Well, duh. People win competitions.
Our society is inherently unstable, but at heart its basic unit is not
the dollar, but the human being. We're surrounded by lots of
imperfectly working
systems, which we patch constantly. If we occasionally lose sight of
this because of the complexity of the systems, then that shouldn't come
as any surprise. Complexity is rarely a good survival strategy.



So that's that. Gosh, that was easy.



I wrote this a few days ago - looking
back, it seems like the most incredibly disjointed nonsense! Never
mind, there's truth in there somewhere. Off you go, little blog entry,
and good luck in the wider world!

Faults

I find it's my own faults that are most intolerable in other people.

Somewhere between apathy and death.

The website was sinister in its simplicity. In large letters, "8.45am
24th October 2009". Underneath was message exhorting readers to post
this date everywhere, and finally, an explanation of what was expected
to happen.



"We can bring a western nation to its knees without killing. To give
oneself to Allah is the one true calling, but those not ready to take
the Final Step can still help their brothers in countries where their
persecution continues. The decadent infidels will learn what it means
to be occupied! Get on a train, and at 8.45am, pull the emergency stop
cord. Book a flight, then ground the plane by whatever means you can -
even by simply refusing to wear your seatbelt. Park your car across a
busy street. Stand in the doorway to a shop or a bank. Spray paint on
the windscreens of cars stopped at traffic lights.



"The decadent infidels prize money more than life - how else to explain
the slaughter our brothers and sisters have undergone in the West's
quest for oil? One suicide bomb can achieve great things - but make no
mistake, you are part of a community. And a community can achieve far
greater. We have thousands of soldiers! We can stop every plane, ground
every flight, block every road. A million acts of defiance can destroy
a society which demands absolute, mindless compliance. We will flood
their prisons. We will sneer at their pathetic demands for fines. Three
stolen cars parked across the motorway round London will cause misery
to millions of people if we do it once - but if we do it every day for
a year...



"We can do this. And then, next day, we can do it again. And again. And again…



"First we will target the UK. It is dangerously close to gridlock
already. We can stop the whole country up for months. Many will come
from all over the world, posing as tourists..." and so on.



When this occurred to me, this morning in the car, it seemed like the
most sinister thing ever - civil disobedience using a vast,
international, mobile population to bring a nation to a complete
standstill. After all, if there are hundreds of angry young men willing
to die, how many more are there who would laugh at a mere monetary fine?



In the cold light of day, it seems a bit less terrifying.

"Interesting Bloke. Crap Tea."

Rating:	★
Category:	Other

I was looking through my stuff, wondering how on Earth I'm going to pack it all (I'm moving house next weekend), when I realized I've got rather a lot of tea. Not sure how much, to be honest. I know I've got less than my all-time high of 27 varieties, but I'd guess I'm at maybe seventeen? Somewhere between... oh. Twenty. Okay. The problem is I will forget which ones I like, so I'm writing it all down. And I might as well share this information.

Most of them come from either Nothing But Tea, or Whittards. Some I haven't tried yet, some I haven't tried in years. In between though, are the following:

Green Assam TGFOP Khongee - A nice green tea. I like Assam. Good for breakfast. Incidentally, if you think green tea is bitter, then you're probably making it with water which is too hot.

Tesco Scottish tea bags - now, this may just be because I'm English, but this tastes really odd. Wave it at the mug, maybe, but then put something else in. Bleuch.

Fairtrade Teabags - this tastes to me of fish. Buy it only if your conscience is very very insistent.

Earl Grey - Ah, the old favourite. Don't like the Twinings one, but Whittards and nbtea are both yummy. Prefer it black, but will drink it with milk. Or lemon.

Green Earl Grey - my breakfast staple. Really very fond of this. Not always available, so I buy in bulk whenever I can find it. Fragrant, with lots of lemony bergamot smell. Delish.

Jasmine - I like jasmine, but I don't drink it very often. Also have some Jasmine Phoenix Eyes, which are kind of cool (they're like little rolled balls of tea leaf, which look like little eyes), but they're quite impractical.

Lapsang Souchong - another tea which is fairly common. Again, I don't drink it a lot, but I have some at the back of the cupboard. I mention it for calibration purposes, I guess... if you know how you feel about lapsang, then you can judge if your tastes are likely to be close to mine... on which subject, I find it a bit too harsh. A tea that tries too hard!

White Dan Lei - This came in a sampler from NBT, and it's gorgeous! Really very exotic, with this fragrant and fruity thing going on. More body than jasmine - more spicy, too.

Special Aged Pu Ei - this is another sample, which I love. It turns the water a lovely pink colour, and tastes really nice - it's the tea equivalent of a rose wine, both in colour and taste. Somewhere between a green tea and a black one, but sweeter than both.

Georgian Old Lady - an NBT number. Exaclty what you'd expect - a reasonable, middle-of-the-road black tea. Feed it to your Gran.

Sikkim Temi - This is long gone, and all that remains is the little tin, sitting on my shelf in mute reproach. Really liked this tea, but I'm blowed if I can remember why.

Darjeeling TGFOP - very delicate. Boring, frankly.

Nilgiri BOP - Black tea . A tiny bit too delicate for my taste, but not as bad as the darjeeling.

Nepal Maloom - is a crazy name. Can't remember anything about the tea, though.

Chai - um, I have a couple of these. Twinings as always is bottom of the pile. The organic one is nice, the Whittards one is better. My method of making it is a bit erratic - I know you're supposed to brew it with the milk, or something, but I tend to skip that bit. I love chai. It's great for winter evenings, hot and spicy - use some frothy milk, and it's like a tea cappucino. Yum.

Orange Blossom Tea - Tried it. Couldn't see the point, frankly.

Cranberry Tea - a black tea with a bit of cranberry in it. Rubbish.

Nettle Tea - a very traditional cuppa, I found this in the supermarket the other day. What I didn't spot until I got home was the bit on the packet saying 'Nettle is valued for its properties as a diuretic'. Flippin' 'eck - I don't need anything else that'll make me pee more! Consequently I've only tried it once. It was remarkably strong and dark, and tasted a lot like lawn clippings.

Fruit teas - everyone is so down on fruit teas. The first comment everyone says is 'smells lovely, tastes like water.' At this point I have to prevent myself sighing and rolling my eyes, and limit myself to suggesting a few that they should try. Whittards do some lovely ones. Current favourites are Plum Pudding, and the Breakfast Fruit one. And another one, which I poured into a tin and threw away the label. Damn.
Also, orange, cinnamon and rooibos. Is very very nice. Like a fruit version of chai.

Finally, you have got to visit this charming site for a Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down. That Stuart, he seems like a nice young man.

Thought for the Day, Feb 2nd

Normally, Radio 4's Thought for the Day is just background noise as I
drive to work - some bishop or Imam babbling about peace and goodwill.
Today's, though, really did manage to move me. More powerful as spoken
word, of course, but here's the script

A list of projects

Not a particularly engaging title, I admit... ;)

1. 3D laser scanner. I
   do a bit of this stuff at work, but I came across a couple of websites
   with some fascinating homebrew laser scanners, for making 3D models of Things around the Home. I would love to make
   one. No practical reason, other than the learning experience, I guess! As examples we have crazily homebrew, or slightly more sensible homebrew.


2. Political cartoonery. I
   had this great idea for a cartoon of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. (This
   will be completely meaningless to anyone outside the UK, but what the
   hey). Entitled 'the Carrot and the Stick', Tony will be this Ken
   Dodd-like figure, grinning maniacally and brandishing a tickling stick
   (note for those lucky enough to live outside the UK: tickling stick = a
   feather duster). Gordon will stand just behind, wearing a bulky rabbit
   costume and a face like thunder, and generally looking extremely
   threatening. Cradled in his hands, where a nightclub bouncer might
   cradle his baseball bat, will be an enormous carrot.


3. Design Dream House. My
   parents built their own house. I seriously want to do that. I know I
   could, and it would be brilliant. I wish I'd done architecture instead
   of design.


4. Write book.
   Actually I've
   already done this once; it was science fiction, and I wrote it for the
   Games Workshop people. They didn't publish it; the plot got a little
   complicated. I found it way too difficult to write a straight-up
   blood-and-guts gothic heroism story - hey, I'm a complicated guy. My
   characters were complicated, okay? My hero went mad. That just doesn't
   do it for your basic nine-year-old Space Marine fanatic. Someday I'll
   come back to it and rewrite; more likely
   I'll try and start from scratch again.


5. Lego robot for sweeping floors. Preferably
   solar powered. Got all excited about the new Lego robot sets which are
   coming out in August (ish). Need to justify it somehow. Since I have no
   carpets, a simple sweeping robot that I could fire-and-forget (like,
   forever) should be adequate. Can't afford to go out and blow the
   necessary cash right now, though... but you can now download design software for
   designing stuff in Lego . How crazy is that? (Mind you, the software doesn't get a stunningly good press).

Youth

Listening to the radio, they were telling the story of Simone de
Beauvoir and Jean Paul Sartre. Simone de Beauvoir is having an affair
with one of her young students - at the "ripe old age of thirty, she
felt like she had recaptured her longlost youth."



I nearly fell off my chair. "Longlost?" At thirty? The
hell with that. They can have my youth when they pry it from my cold,
dead fingers.