Here’s some more for the competition:
Tag: Bits
WTF!
Thanks to Jan Harald Fonas for putting this my way. I wonder what, exactly, it means?
…
WASHINGTON — NASA will hold a news conference at 2 p.m. EST on Thursday, Dec. 2, to discuss an astrobiology finding that will impact the search for evidence of extraterrestrial life. Astrobiology is the study of the origin, evolution, distribution and future of life in the universe.
…
Encyclopedia
Where's my Hammer?
Bloody televisions!
Our old TV was still a 26 inch tube, with a chip in the screen and was generally not as clear as it used to be. The only freeview we had available was through a Sky box (though we no longer subscribe to Sky), and the old DVD & hard disk recorder has been playing silly buggers for some time. So, also bearing in mind that VAT his going to shoot up, we decided it was time to invest in some new equipment. We got a Sony LCD flat screen (with integral freeview) and a Panasonic DVD & hard disk recorder. And I haven’t even got to the stage of turning on the second of these on.
I unplugged about twenty metres of various cobwebby cables and detached all the other equipment, then got the new TV and recorder in place – nice and simply connected with an HDMI cable. All a lot neater, lighter, better…
The instructions were of course pretty simple. They always are until something goes wrong. I ran the automatic tuning on the thing and all seemed hunky dory and the picture was superb. Then I checked the digital program list and found ITV, Channels 4 & 5 and numerous other channels missing. I tried again, but they were still missing. I tried the manual retune but could make neither head nor tail of it until I researched it on the Internet. Meanwhile Caroline turned on the TV in the bedroom only to discover heavy interference on all channels. We searched out the manual for that, retuned it, but with no luck.
Tomorrow I’m going to have to call up ‘Academy Aerials’ since, it seems, either the connections in the co-ax in the loft are causing problems, or we need a new aerial. But I’m still not sure how that relates to the problems with the bedroom TV.
Aaargh!
Brass Monkeys
Damn, the brass monkeys have bought up all the insulated scrotum protectors and are running for cover. The snow hasn’t hit us in this part of Essex yet but, as you can see, it ain’t exactly Cancun outside and the snow is on the way.
I have to wonder just how much longer I’ll be able to keep on cycling without risking being mowed down by some prick in an SUV who thinks ice is what happens to other people. I fully intend to keep trying, even going so far as raking out my old fleece-lined fishing suit if necessary. But cycling through blizzards will have to be a no-no since I don’t have windscreen wipers on my eyes.
Mmm, I wonder what the betting now is on a white Christmas?
11.05AM and the temperature reads minus 4.
The Aliens Are Here.
Y’know, there are lots of conspiracy theories running around the world – the moon landings were falsified, alien spacecraft in AREA 51 – but I’m here to tell you now that one of them is true: there are aliens amongst us. If you were to split open a particular shiny forehead that’s been prominent on your TVs and in your newspapers you would reveal the green lizard skin of glombulfrog from the planet Zaarg. Cameron is not alone, of course, glombulfrogs have taken control of all the parliaments and senates across the world, because nothing else could possibly explain their deep disconnect from real human beings.
It is a conspiracy to give us the worst possible rulers, to fuck up our financial systems, blow our money on complete rubbish, involve us in pointless wars, control and dictate, nanny and generally leave us so totally and utterly pissed off with them. The purpose of this is quite simple. When, in about ten years, the invasion arrives and the particle beams lash down, turning the House of Commons to rubble, the White House to a smoking ruin, the European Parliament to a bomb site snowed with the pages from burning accounts books, we’ll all cheer. When the glombulfrogs stride out of their massive space ships and tell us that they are now in charge, there will be a collective worldwide sigh of relief and cries of, ‘Thank fuck for that.’
The latest Cameroonism is a perfect example of how they work:
‘Hey, the country is in huge debt, people are worried about their finances, worried about the massive amounts of money we’re blowing, so how can we hack them off further?’ he asked at a recent glombulfrog focus group.
‘I know,’ a climber in the frog hierarchy answered, ‘let’s spend some money on something completely needless and pointless just like our agents in the previous government did. That always seemed to work.’
‘Ahah,’ said the Camerofrog, ‘let’s do a happiness consultation and spend, I dunno, a couple of million.’
‘Only a couple of million?’
‘Well, we can’t get too drastic – the main invasion fleet won’t arrive for another ten years.’
‘Very true – we do actually need something left to rule.’
New Office
New desks purchased and assembled. Layers of crap removed from the drawers and discarded, since I’m one of those annoying people who tends to keep stuff because ‘it might come in handy’ and have reached that point where the handy thing is so buried in other handy stuff that I can’t find it.
My old desk, which I bought second-hand and has followed me through four homes and at which I’ve written every book published by Macmillan, was getting rather wobbly and tired. With its metal back I also needed to extend a few of the USB cables to reach the computer underneath. It’s also the case that it was good when I worked a lot with that archaic paper stuff and when I needed the room for a bloody great screen, but is not necessary now. I thought I’d be sad to see it go, but I’m not.
The loft next. All those handy plastic containers, all that computer hardware no one will ever want, the boxes for things purchased years ago, a big container of rusty nails retained from when I used to do fencing and a load of door handles whose history I’m a little confused about. All down the dump.
Ban Dihydrogen Monoxide.
On Yer Bike
It’s very definitely been the case that since coming back from Crete I’ve been spending far too much time on the Internet, and the most exercise I’ve had is moving the furniture out of a bedroom ready for a new carpet. And, as is usual with me, I’ve started to get annoyed with how indolent and crappy I feel.
Time to get on my bike again.
My usual route has been from our house here over to my mother’s house, where I would have a cup of tea and a chat, before cycling back again – an eight mile round trip. Last winter, because it was so damned cold, I didn’t do it as much as I should have. My resolution this winter is that I will cycle this route three times a week. The only times I won’t do this is if there’s an actual blizzard, ice on the roads, or a torrential downpour. I’ve also resolved to throw in a bit of weight training too.
Today was the first day. Cycling to my mother’s house against a headwind left me absolutely knackered, but the trip back wasn’t so bad. Once I got back I collected a dustpan and brush so as to occupy myself, in the rest period between each weight-training set, sweeping up all the crap that had blown into our garage over the summer. The training itself was surprisingly easy, and only left me feeling a bit tired and shaky, however, the real effects won’t kick in until tomorrow.
Why such madness? I need it. You have to remember that before I got taken on by Macmillan I worked in a very physical job for 13 years. Maybe I need the endorphins. Anyway, if I don’t get some exercise I’ll end up looking like this:
’nuff said.