Party victim

After a rather so-so party held in the Green Man in Euston on Saturday, a few of us travelled back from central London to Daggers for a little drink and a post-party chat about shite all. We found this specimen having a well-deserved post-party snoozette on the Central Line.

Sadly, he was removed by a (very pleasant, I have to say) member of the British Transport Police who asked him where he was going. “Walthamstow” he said, somewhat blearily. Despite the train pulling into Liverpool Street where he could have picked up an overground connection, he insisted on going back to Oxford Circus. The copper asked him if he had been with anyone earlier.

“Well”, he said, “my wife was here when I fell asleep”.

So…the question – what on earth happened to his wife? Gave us something to speculate on while we travelled the long and well-worn path to the burbs.

The meaning of 'scundered'

I just realise that I used a word in my last entry, 'scundered', which most people won't have heard of.

Simple: its from Northern Ireland, and according to the BBC's "Voices" website, specifically from Belfast, where coinidentally, my wife hales from before her family moved to Craigavon in the late 60s (my mum-in-law has an old proddy "Shankill" accent).

It simply means 'embarrassed'.

You can have a look at other Northern Irishisms here:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/northernireland/voices/atilazed/a.shtml

Chav versus opera singer

The picture was blatantly swiped from Sha Crawford’s blog and illustrates to the uninitiated what a female chav looks like. Go and have a look at her site, it’s a fun read.

http://sha-crawford.blogspot.com/2005/05/chav-for-night-sleezy-men-free-drinks.html

A little story that warmed my heart:

Three or four chavs were gathered round a phone on the train back to Dover from Charing Cross. The phone was blaring some undoubtedly “lush” music. Annoyed at having her journey interrupted by this musical equivilant of shit, she put herself next to these fools and burst into song. These chavs found it very amusising indeed, giving her abuse for her efforts. But the good lady was neither intimidated, nor an amateur, in fact she was a pro opera singer on her night off. She delivered a full aria to the carriage, which then gave her a standing ovation.

The chavs, truly scundered, sulked off.

The world's saddest place

During our trip to Krakow, we visited Auschwitz 1 and 2, also known as Birkenau.

I can’t do this topic justice so I won’t try. Everything, which can be said, has been about the concentration camps of Germany, Poland, etc. There is no need to say any more. Plenty of information, should you want it, on www.wikipedia.org.

In my opinion, like I guess many others’, these camps are some of the saddest places on earth. The day, as you can see, was not the warmest – heaven knows what I must have felt like without the luxury of winter clothing, and for Krakow, this was not a freezing winter’s day. Credit due to the country of Poland for keeping the three camps in fairly good shape, for generations such as my own, to pay our respects to the slain and mutilated of the Hitler era. More importantly, for neither glorifying it by giving the “Experience” treatment, though tourism is inevitable. And for leaving them, as much as possible, in their bleak and mostly undisturbed state.

This is a photo I took from the watchtower overlooking the camp. The quality isn’t great, with reflections from the windows behind the camera, but the second part of the tour was rather rushed and, therefore, so were my pictures. It gives an idea of camp's scale - this was one quarter of the "accommodation" - the gas chambers were demolished two days before the Allies took over the camp and many of the buildings were demolished or have rotted.

Despite the necessary herding, I was more disturbed than I though I’d be, as were the rest of the coach. The journey back to Krakow was almost silent. That night, I contemplated on the atmosphere of the camps when everyone had gone home and the place remained bleak and silent. If you were a ghost-hunter, then surely this would be the ideal spot to detect the spirits of the painfully departed.

The word I think I'd describe my experience here is "awestruck", pure and simple. Here, in your face, is the evidence of death - not a death to a statistical body of people in a history book but real flesh and blood humans. In the main concentration camp, there were displays of belongings taken from the inmates as they arrived - hair, shoes, clothing. The dolls' clothes were somehow the most disturbing.

My great grandfather, Philip Jacobs, was a Jewish exile who moved to London in the 1920s, so I don’t think I can start to contemplate on what might have been if he’d stayed. You'd not be reading this, because I would undoubtedly not be here to write it.

Secret Santa

Nearly finished Christmas!

Bought the final Christmas present, for our Secret Santa do at work. Its for a guy I don't know at all, and since its secret, though a copy of "You Are What You Shite", a book I bought in Books Etc on the way home, appropriate.

For myself I bought a book about Lifestyle Envy by Alain de Botton and Merde Actually, the follow-up to A Year In The Merde.

Too tired to knock up a curry, so had turkey drummers (the adult version of Turkey Twizzlers I suspect) in macaroni cheese.
Yum.

Job interview

Four weeks ago I took an interview for a job at the civil service - name of dept etc withheld until I know more.

Why has it taken four weeks...and counting....for them to answer? I know I'm still a prospect as I get an email from them once a week asking me nicely to keep waiting and apologising for same. But I'd really like a firm reply, the waiting is doing me in.

The job is centred around two things I'm passionate about and so I'd almost eat my right testicle to get this job - which makes waiting twice as hard. Come one guys at the Department of Tr... oops, tell me I've got it. The interview was a two hour grilling, I think I answered the questions fairly robustly and even though I'm not a snivil servant, you know I deserve it.

Discovered!

Unrelated to the previous post - hence the entirely new entry - my blog has been discovered! Not by one of my many anonymous fans, but by a person at work, in fact one of my immediate work collegues. Frig me, I'll have to be VERY careful what I say now. This person informed me at the office Chrismas party (not bad as office xmas parties go) and the revelation thoroughly whacked me.

This has been an entirely private affair up till now, written for the entertainment and illumination of my good self in future years, and for any other unfortunate soul who stumbles into it via Google.

My sis Natasha came across a diary she'd written when we were flat-sharing in 1987 in Harlington, near Heathrow and it reminded her that her life then was interestingly shit. Its this kind of rose-tinted remindering I want to do. In fact, looking at his blog, I probably give the false impression that my life is far shitter than it actually is - mostly I go around with a sense of bewildered amusement mixed up with doses of boredom which unless you live the life an A list sleb is inevitable. So for the record, life ain't too bad, but I want to remind myself of the particularly good, bad or merely funny parts of it. So this dmn blog will just to reflect the bias of what I consider interesting. There are moments of sadness and regret and I include them too when I think its appropriate though often they are too personal for me or others for me to comfortable revealing all.

As to whether you find my Rants & Burblings interesting dear readerkj....well if you don't there are 10 squllion other diaries to find on the net, so find them and enjoy.

Piers Morgan's political commentary

We've just returned from Krakow, and there will be a few blog entries relating to this trip. More on that later, when I get the pictures from the camera.

I am reading "The Insider" by Piers Morgan and oddly enough he has just shown up on Question Time. I found his diary informative and it really gives you an insight, in a rather tabloid way, what is going on behind the scenes in civil and political society. For a £3.73 Tesco cheapo bestseller, a good read and one that cuts through a lot of the media bullshit. I'm increasingly looking for the news behind the news, and hisi diary is a pretty interesting glimpse into that hidden world.

He may be out of an editing job, but watch this space - a commentator who I think we'll be seeing a lot more of in future months, especially as the Tories, under Cameron, look like they might be almost worth of taking on Blair. He knows Blair better than most, and unlike politicians in the Labour party, don't have the same very skewed points to make. He's a sort of working man's Paxman I'd say.

Mood: Pretty mellow - the mellowest I've been in ages
Book: The Insider by Piers Morgan
Sounds: Madonna's new one and Stephen 'TinTin' Duffy's Greatest Hits which is an excellent slab of 80s nostagia which has aged well. And how could I forget, re-discovered Scritti Politti's commerical successese. Nicely aged too.

How accessible are Apple Macs? A subjective review

A friend asked me whether I'd give an opinion of the Apple
screenreader, Voiceover. I don't actually use voiceover as my main
access technology, being partially sighted. I do use it to read large
chunks of text, something I quite appreciate as backup, especially
when using the trackpad on the laptop, as this means I don't have to
constantly move my index finger to focus text. This blog entry is a review of what I know about Voiceover, and Applemac access technology generally.

Here's my general opinion of Voiceover.

Manual - you get an MP3 version on the Mac and you also pick up a PDF
version on the net. This explains things quite well and you should be
able to learn the basics of voiceover in about 2-3 hours if you go for
the MP3 version.

Compatibility. There are issues here. While many packages included
on the Mac's standard sales package work well, some don't work at all
and others need some serious tweaking by Apple. I'd like to hope that
these issues are cleared up with later versions of OSX. This depends
on whether Apple seriously intend to integrate Voiceover into their
operating system or are just offering it as a sweetener for the
massive American education market. Before Voiceover, Macs weren't ADA
compatible, so they could have lost out on a lot of sales if they
hadn't pulled their finger out.

Works well with:
TextEdit (the Mac's default word processor - not a bad one, but
lacking a few bells and whistles, but perfectly acceptable for 95
percent of all writing/documenting tasks. Also works with a third
party WP package called Nisus Writer Express which I like as as its
pretty well-featured for a package costing £35 or thereabouts. Nearly
as good as MS-Word.

Safari- works well with the standard Mac web browser, Safari. Does
not work with Firefox, a good alternative.

Mail - pretty obvious what that does. I don't use Mail a lot because
the Zoom cursor does not track with it (its worth bearing what tracks
and what doesn't if you/your users are partially sighted and likely to
use speech as a backup rather than using VO as their only access tech
solution). I use Gmail with Safari and this works well. However, VO
*does* work with Mail, and pretty well apparently.

iTunes. The Mac uses iTunes for a number of processes including CD
copying, MP3 ripping etc. Not accessible to voiceover - this is a
MAJOR failure on Apple's part. The script used to write the program
isn't Cocoa compliant, but as far as a user is concerned, we don't
care. It just don't work.

Appleworks - does not work fully. Another major failure since this is
their main "MS-Office" equivalent. I' ve heard rumours that the next
version will work properly, but wait for the fat lady to sing on this
one I think.

Navigating items. Apple's desktop, "dock" (a list of easily
selectable programs) and the "Finder" - what Windows calls Windows
Explorer, works very well and its easy to navigate with the voiceover
keys.

For and against:]

For
Apple Mac stability. Very reliable, mine has never crashed. You can
throw bricks at the operating system and the worst thing does is
briefly shrug. From my experience of Voiceover, I'd say this extends
to this. Voiceover is part of the OS rather than being a bolt-on
which makes it feel and act integrated.

What works, works well. While later versions of Windows have become
much more stable, the Mac way of doing things still makes quite a lot
of sense, though as Windows gets better, the "Mac is superior" feeling
which used to be espoused by Mac users is no longer applicable. I
like elements of both OS-es. Windows is just more familiar and stuff
is more likely to work with WindowEyes/JAWS out of the box.

Its included in the price. If cost is an issue, then a Mac Mini costs
£339 with Voiceover and Zoom included. A new copy of JAWS alone
costs twice that. If you are just into a bit of word processing,
email and Internet, then work it out for yourself

Voiceover is not a "special" technology. You don't get the
ghettosiation ethic that some PC products have. Every new Mac sold
can be used by a VI (within the limitations I've mentioned) out of the
box. This is a wonderfully liberating feeling. Also, means that
issues of the absolutely ridiculous (OK, I could use expletives here
but won't) lengths Windows PC access products are copy protected (and
all the user-related bureaucracy which goes with it) don't apply.
Keys, dongles, license rights? They just don't apply to Macs.

Against:

User might need to relearn access technology. My tech-savvy,
JAWS-using wife can't be bothered to learn Voiceover. If the user is
not familiar with an existing system, unlearning a familiar system
won't be a problem though.

The PC versions are industry standards, Voiceover is a new kid on the
block. There are much more support sites and VIs with JAWS/WinEyes
experience. Also Macs are comparatively rare in their own right with
5-7 percent of the overall PC market. GW Micro, Freedom Scientific et
al have been making and supporting their various access tech products
for years and know their stuff. While you might get lucky and find a
member of staff in Apple who knows about Voiceover, I'd imagine their
support team isn't half the leviathan

Third party Voiceover training might not be that easy to find. Hmmmm,
I feel a new niche for my good self here!


Should I or should I not....?

A few basic ground-rules.

Feeling adventurous? Go for the Mac but don't expect an easy ride.
The MacVsionairies user group is a great source of support and some
of the users on it are extremely knowledgeable. If you need to use a
particular Windows product, then obviously go for Windows and JAWS
etc.

Education purchaser: If classmates are using Macs by default then
also go for it.

Cautious buyer?
I'd stick to buying Windows PC and JAWS. You'll have to pay much more
you will have the sort of experience familiar to most blindies on
learning a new package with WinEyes, JAWS etc. This means good
support and availability of training. If Apple are serious about
Voiceover though, give it a few years and Windows based access
technology will have to serious drop in price (or SHOCK! HORROR! be
included as part of Windows, because if Apple are serious, Voiceover
will be giving the likes of Freedom, GW Micro and the rest a run for
their money. The Mac could in three to five years time, be the VI's
first choice of computer, simply on price alone.

Stay sane, avoid Watord

What do you buy for the woman who has everything? (That's her on the right). We are talking 40th birthdays. We are talking WIFE’s 40th birthday. And yet, after 6 mainly happy years of marriage, I’m still none-the-wiser. She’s a gadget freak, a technophile and, like me, thinks Asda contains all the fashion she’ll ever need, so clothes are not an option and she has all the technological whiz-bangs you could throw a stick at. I may have go down the jewellery route, but then she’d have to be there as its such a personal thing.

I suppose I could buy her a Mac. At least then she’d have a computer which works for more than five minutes.

Customer service at Watford Electronics, also known on the web as …no, if you want their site, go find it. I’m not going to help you as their service is the worst I’ve come across from a company, ever. It makes 02 seem like a company of semi-evolved simians.

Our Aries computer, a nicely spec’d one, with good components, packed up a month after we bought it (see previous excited blog entry). I’d guess it was the main motherboard taking leave of itself because it only got as far as showing us the BIOS info screen.

We called.

They said they’d pick it up (even after we reminded them we’d paid for onsite: they didn’t care). Having waited in three times for Amtrak to turn up, each time Watford then regretfully informed us (after waiting 20-40 minutes on hold for an answer) that Amtrak weren’t going to arrive that day because Watford hadn’t given them actually been decent enough to ask them to drive over to our house!). I could go on. If you are interested in getting a diary of all we went through, which fortunately Lynn kept as she didn’t trust their customer reps from the get-go, I’ll send it to you. We then tried to claim our money back. Either no replies to emails or constantly evasive customer service reps. We have had to involve Barclaycard who were so appalled after reading the log, that they couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be able to claw the money back on our behalf. We’re awaiting their further reply.

Now for anyone not familiar with Watford Electronics, they are one of the better-known independent PC manufacturers in the UK. They have 20 page adverts in Computer Shopper. They have been around since I was a kid, in fact our school bought loads of their kit. The company I work for, before going for Dell kit, kitted their offices with Watford computers. They are not, or sorry, were not, a Mickey Mouse organisation. They are also cheap without compromising on quality. The fact that our PC’s motherboard packed up doesn’t really count against them as all computer components might fail, even the best ones. That’s why you buy onsite maintenance.

Keep your head. Avoid them. Your sense of sanity will love you forever. Thank goodness for the reliable, trouble-free world of the Mac.

Mood: Lazy
Sounds: The magic of Radio 2 – I’m in the office, just about to leave so don’t have much choice about this.

I'm still blogging

I’ve avoided blogging for a bit because there has been nothing worth getting excited about. My job is as bad as ever and apart from that things are ticking along quite nicely. The Mac is working well and customer service from just about everyone we’ve had the joy of dealing with has been universally appalling.

I’m going to write a separate rant about this when I feel more motivated, but as its fairly late, Question Time is on TV and I’ve had a knackering week, me being the only person on the help-line, which should have five members of staff covering it, plus working a five day week when I have by right two working from home, I’m not motivated enough to do it. I’ve met an interesting bunch of yanks on a chat list called Blink Link, another blindy bunch o and we getting our rocks off talking about American politics and their relationship with the UK.

This always comes as a surprise, especially the reckless way the government of that country took it to war, but the Americans I’ve met on the net are far more clued up than us Brits give them credit for. So why is it that these people, who I would otherwise consider intelligent, likeable people, are only waking up to the fact that they were conned by Bush. Not that we did much better with Blair, but at least we plebs had the decency to disapprove of his warmongering.
I’m covering well trod ground here so will stop.

I’m writing this in Nisus Writer Express on the Mac, and so far, my favourite WP package. I just wish that MS-Word would talk to Voiceover then I’d use that. Oh yeah, it costs about £200 for the cheap version. Maybe not then. But Nisus is a friendly and competent package and there’s a good chance I’ll buy a proper licence since I’m only using the trial.

And finally, if you are wondering why there is a dog on the top of my page, its because Kizzie, Lynn's guide dog has retired. This is a picture placed in her honour on her last day as a working beast and demonstrates to the world that she isn't forgotten. Not bad for shot taken on the mobile. The tray was loaded with a full English breakfast, definitely deserved. She is now living the high life with a lovely family in commuter belt Surrey.

Gone but never forgotten, Kizzer. I never thought I'd be sentimental about a dog which wasn't even mine - just a pet. But they grow on you.

Mood: Tired
Book: Sight Unseen by Robert Goddard
Soundz: Madonna, Scritti Politti, rediscovered

iBook shocker

Has any iBook G4 owner reading this ever received a shock from their computer, of the “ouch, dammit” variety, while working with it plugged into the mains? I only noticed this the other night when I was beavering away.  My battery’s power level went into the red and so I did what anyone sensible would have, inserted the AC jack.  I was sitting on the floor at the time, and was wearing shorts, or I don’t think I’d have noticed it.

As parts of the computer touched my bare leg – namely the metal screw fitting, and the front catch was touching my chest, I noticed a slight burning sensation.  Since I had not been receiving injuries from I computer before that, I gathered it had something to do with me being plugged in.  I removed the AC jack and…job done.  No more eel impersonations.

Anyone else noticed this?

Trying to define sin

Sin. And old fashioned word with religious connotations, right? Well, I just happen to like the word – it carries more gravitas than say ‘doing wrong’ or ‘being bad’.

The reason I’m bringing up this issue is really related to a discussion I had with the facilitator in the Alpha Group I’m attending. We disagreed. Sherron, a lovely person, had the attitude that moral standards have dropped. I don’t actually agree with this. Bad news makes good copy, sells media space. That’s not to say we’re, as humans pure as the driven snow, this would be patent rubbish. But the evidence would suggest that in fact we are living more morally than in previous generations. Binge drinking is a hot topic at the moment. Alcohol consumption, in regular and immoderate amounts usually means there is something wrong with you or the structure in which you dwell – unhappy marriage, stress at work etc. Also, the British, as Kate Fox as pointed out, drink in order to become less inhibited. If that’s the case, then perhaps our greater consumption of alcohol is the explanation for the ‘death of Britishness’ – the stiff upper lip we are famous for.

Alcohol though. Peter Ackroyd, the source of all knowledge when it comes to London’s history, mentioned in his recent TV series, that in the late 18th century, there was a gin palace for every 35 people. That’s not a typo. A lot of gin palaces, and thus a lot of alcohol consumption.

The Victorian era is often looked about as some kind of ‘golden age’ of morality. Undoubtedly, some of our greatest engineers, scientists, innovators, architects and entrepreneurs came from this period. But on the other side, the poor lived in squalor mostly, with so called ‘illegitimate’ children being the norm in poorer parts of the UK. Poverty that we in the west have long been able to forget. And this leads to the reason I’m questioning the nature of sin. Much of the Victorian poverty was preventable. There were enough resources to house, clothe and feed everyone. When we think of poverty, we think of Africa or poor parts of Asia. So when you buy your trainers for £40 plus, do you think of the kids who stitched them up for a dollar a day? No, same the Victorians didn’t give a hoot for the east enders and those living in the mill towns of the north.

If I’m not making myself clear (and I seriously want to leave the office before it gets dark), then it is this. Christians and many Americans seem to have the attitude that ‘sin’ is something that we are entirely responsible for. Us, doing unto God as we would to others. “Responsibility” in this context means responsibility. There is nothing wrong with that – I can choose to be a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ person, though the distinctions are more than often a bit blurred.

Yet I can no more change the conditions of the third world poor than I can move 10 tonne rocks with my little finger. What we as a society can do is protest against corporations, unfair trading conditions which make overseas poverty inevitable, and that’s about it, unless we go into full term violence, as we did with the hated Poll Tax in 1990. It takes a lot for a Brit to do this, be assured. Mostly, the good people who campaign against unfair trading conditions, globalisation etc, do nothing more than raise the public sense of unease. And this is perhaps all they can do. Maybe, for example, it will take another natural disaster or three like Katrina before the likes of Dubya wake up and smell the coffee. Oh dear, no coffee, plantations got waterlogged this year. Thhhhaaank you.

Its all well and good trying, at an individual level, to be a sinless person, and yet its just as damn easy being white as snow to our neighbours and loved ones while watching big business and stupid power-gorged governments do nasty things to those they consider beneath them, which lets face it is 99 percent of us. Sometimes we have to do the ant thing – work as a cohesive team against them. And occasionally, it even works.

Final thought: the last time I hunted for a pair of shoes made in Britain by workers presumably paid a living wage, I wore my shoe-leather out.

Mood: Contemplative
Book: Life Expectancy, Dean Koontz
Music: Air con above my desk

Anonymous replies

Dear anonymous commentators

I know its a terribly brave thing to submit your comment using a returnable email address and a real name. Some are even brave enough to have done it. For those who have, I salute you. But for the vast majority who cower behind anonymity...

Go on, I don't bite. Too hard. And I'm a freak only with the boundaries of freakdom. Just. So unless you *very* offensive, I'll not flame you too much anyway.

And for all those spammers - I love spam, bring me more. Gmail is VERY good at spotting it.

Stock Aitken Waterman - the greatest songwriters of all time?

You can tell you are getting old when you find that the music you either paid scant attention to, or actively disliked at the time, sounds good to your ears compared to the vast majority of what’s out now. I’m not saying that all modern music is crap, because there are some still some excellent tunesmiths around, thank goodness. But, for example, the whole so called R&B genre is an insult to the real R&B groove, that from the American south and its foreign imitators. Now that’s the real deal. However, I digress…

I was listening to some 80s downloads on the old Archos, of which there are about 300 tracks, and the ones which really stood out in a good way were believe it or not, the Stock Aitken Waterman numbers. (The other totally standout track was ‘Busy Doing Nothing’ by Barbara Gaskin and Dave Stewart [the other one]. Now that track ought to be preordained as a masterclass in sound texture for novice producers – its bloody wonderful, with at least seven distinct textures, which all work together, strangely enough – go download then tell me I’m talking out of my arse if you dare).

Back to SAW. At the time, because there were so many of them around at once, and because quite frankly, the lyrics were and still are vacuous to say the least, I never paid as much attention to their songwriting as it deserved. But thinking about the song structures they used, the key changes, even the trademark Linnn Drum beat, considering their output was supposedly 7 songs per week, many of the tracks they produced were intricate affairs, and I feel now that any slating they got back then was via jealous musicians. You can fool people with crap for some of the time, but either we were really thick in the late 80s*, or the music wasn’t crap, mostly.

If you think I’m having a wind-up, take the chords to You’ll Never Stop Me From Loving You by Sonia. Mike Stock probably knocked this up in the few minutes between pulling his wire in the gents and glugging his fifth cup of tea that day. Play the chorus, slowly, using the grand piano setting of your keyboard. To me, its bloody genius. Well, come on, could YOU do it five minutes? Most musicians get off on the fact that that their songs are ‘crafted’, ‘masterpieces’, ‘a labour of love’ etc. To me, the real art of SAW is that they, oddly enough, didn’t sell out to crassness. Most the songs they wrote are eminently recyclable in the manner of a real classic, ‘Yesterday’ by Macca, the most covered tune ever.

Here’s the summing up the wonderful Wikipedia’s entry on Mike Stock (the chief composer):

“Although Mike Stock may not be revered as John Lennon or Bob Dylan are for thought provoking lyrics, his music does appeal to the heart and is sonically and creatively every bit equal to John Lennon or Bob Dylan, if not more so than the aforementioned artists. It is no more creative to write 'Imagine' than it is to write 'I'd Rather Jack'. It is also worth noting that Bob Dylan has never had a no.1 record. Mike Stock has had 17. “

Spot on. And I’ve even agree that ‘Imagine’, with its po-faced sentiment, and blatant politicking, is a truly awful record, possibly one of the most over-revered tunes ever written. I don’t have a problem with serious music, honest, but this song was written by one of the richest men in pop. How can you take it seriously? It makes me want to vom whenever I here it, I hate it that much, and I love the Beatles. Give me the Reynolds Girls any day. At least ‘I’d Rather Jack’ pretends nothing – its bubblegum and proud.


*Hmm, we did vote for Thatcher and her wretched government twice during that period. Possibly due to mass experimentation with the atmosphere, that’s my only sane conclusion.

New Mac, dead PC

I took delivery of my new Mac iBook on Monday and have been busy learning the new software. As well as the Apple variations on believed themes - TextEdit word processor, Safari internet and the weird world of Apple Mail, which I'm beginning to like increasingly the more I use it, I'm also having to learning from scratch the Mac access technology; Voiceover in conjunction with Zoom. I'm not too sure how this is going to work out ultimately as there are 20 lessons in all and only on lesson 7. I'm generally impressed by the voices and suspect that once I get the hang of it, the combination should work fairly well for a partially sighted user, though I'm not sure how successful it would be if I were totally blind. Anyway, the laptop itself is ergonomically sound, in a way that very few non-Apple products seem to be. I love the slot loading CD drive for example.

Contrary to Apples statement 'it just works' - well it didn't. What didn't work in particular was it with our BT Voyager modem. This is one of the most common modems in the UK, and the fact that setting it up required quite an extensive search on the net (thanks to Jay from www.satansam.com) I'd still be beating it around with a big stick and cursing the day I ever bought it. In fact it may well have been returned to the Apple shop by now. Apple's support was nil, as was PlusNet, our provider who sent me the wrong information. Even as a non-confirmed AppleHead, it was obvious just by looking at the first couple of lines of 'help' they sent that they didn't have a clue. So I'm not impressed. Once the non-obvious answer had been correctly input in the Mac, hey presto, lift-off. It involved obtaining DNS server numbers.

The other major win-factor is the amazingly long battery life of the iBook which beats the crap out of the old Dell.

Speaking of the laptop, sadly, this is going to get continued use as our main PC, the one we lovingly set up a few weeks ago is no longer working. It died rather spectacularly in the middle of working from home. What is mean by 'spectacularly' is going a bit over board, as there weren't any sparks or loud bangs, but just a sudden absence of anything on the screen. Rebooting just takes us to the pre-Windows (Bios info) screen - and that's it. So no desktop computer. Just we need, and if it weren't for the new Mac I think I'd be clamoring for the return of the abacus.

Lots more to write, but tomorrow if I get time.

Mood: Anticipating work (in a bad way)
Book: Life Expectancy, Dean Koontz
Sounds: Radio 6 and TV

Yet more work joy

Not enough time this week for even a short blog.  So here’s a rant instead.  I feel a real sense of déjà vu writing this, so if I’ve repeated myself…..go a-Googlein’ for another blog.  A person happier than me.    

Things are going to rack and ruin at work.

Workload piling up – only two of us dogsbodies left now – the rest are all doing management shit.  Great, and necessary I know, but for goodness sakes, there were once five of us – now diminished.  The wokload hasn’t changed and me and my colleague (who I won’t name) are a) taking on this workload and b) getting complained at when it doesn’t get done on time.  Well SURPRISE fucking SURPRISE.  Do the effing maths yourselves.

Our redundancy notices arrive next Thursday.  I only found this information via second hand sources.

So the poo is hitting the fan, and no one is talking to us.  

And yet we’re just expected to carry on with life as normal.

Sorry bastards, I am a human and I am DEMOTIVATED, OVERSTRETCHED and frigging well PISSED OFF.  

I do hope someone from work reads this.

I did my second lesson of an Alpha Course this week.  Like Nick Cave, I don’t believe in an interventionist God (well, I’ve seen scant evidence of him being such) but I could do with some bloody divine intervention right now.  Though management intervention would be a good start.


Mood:  Oh, bloody wonderful, as you can tell
Sounds: ripping all our CDs to the new big box computer so getting a little taste of everything.

Another crap week in the office

This is a quick one as I’m about to shoot out for a few beers.

I have spent the last week being very, very angry.  Not with the injustices of life, which are tough enough, but at least consistent, but the injustices of work.

My comments in ‘Angry’ a few blogs back apply.  Only now the ante has been upped.  Not only have two of my colleagues either resigned or taken redundancy, but no new staff are being hired, and me and the remaining guy, a junior member of staff like me, are the only ones taking the shit.

And I’ve just been told that a report I spent six hours writing – as well as learning two new pieces of software in order to produce said report, is no longer required.  This notification I received only AFTER I’d written in (in the belief, oh silly me, that there was a deadline of yesterday evening to have it completed).  

The work I don’t do or don’t have time to do is criticized no end.  The work I do brilliantly well is c*nting well ignored.  I am at the point where to be sacked, or for myself to take the redundancy package I might be offered if I ask for it, is a viable, and increasingly attractive option.  

Man, I need a brew or ten.

Mood:  Truly f**ked off
Book:  The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe (8 out of 10)
Music: Rammstein

Carly installed at uni, parents, invite

Carly moved in to hallos this weekend.  She is now a physio student.  I am proud of her indeed.  I won't dwell on this topic for too long as its outside the remit of this blog, but I have an idea of what my parents might have felt like when I started as a Goldsmiths' fresher back in 1989.  I wish her all the success in the world.

Had the parents over the weekend fixing our shower taps and generally had an easy going time with them.  Went out for Steak (at the adventurously named 'Steak out' chain of pub/restaurants). The food was tough but cheap. Probably won't venture there again.

On Friday, was given a load of MP3s from Crispy at work.  This is itself  wouldn't be an 'event' had it not been for the fact that one of the CDs was by Rammstein.  What a great bunch of tracks!  I loved Rein Raus, and will try and get  translations as the words are all German.  Loved the sheer overblown pomposity of their sound -good music to play during those angry moments.

Wrote invitation to Lynn's 40th birthday bash:

Dear Plebs

You are cordially invited to the sort of coarse, vulgar, rude and
crude event you have come to expect from us.   (This may involve the
swappage of sleeping bags and bodily fluids - see Beverley La Piaget (a pseudonym for a child famously conceived at one of our parties).

And what, I hear you squeal, is this excuse for debauchery being
proposed?  Its Lynn's "39 - been there, done that" bash.  Well with a
life as eventful of hers, the only way is down, so we need to send to
her towards retirement and death as gracelessly as possible and
dammit, we'll give it our collective best shot.

Be there or be…somewhere else.

The date:  19th November
The place:  XXX, Bognor (no, we are being serious!)
The time:  Any time you like but around 1800 is as good a time as any.

There is a range of pubs in the local area, including the XXX bang
opposite.

The arrangements:  Food will be provided.  There will be a lot of it,
so bring your dentures and doggy bag (to put your dog in).

However, you will damn well pay for your own accommodation since we
are neither an accommodation bureau nor American Express Platinum Card
holders.  The aforementioned XXX does rooms at the rather cheeky
price of £18.50 per sweating body.  If you book through us, you'll get a group discount.

So please let us know before 1 October or we'll expect to see you
sleeping in the streets of Bognor.

Music:  Rammsteain
Book:  The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe
Mood: Tired, pleased with the way thing have turned out with Carly, and not a tinsy winsy bit relieved.

Live well, live badly, die anyway

So Fern Britton is happy being a porker?

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/showbiz/articles/20334600?source=Daily%20Mail.

Now, I am probably hoping for too much here I know, but I do hope this is the beginning of the resistance towards the diet industry. As quite a corpulent individual myself (17 stone with an easygoing 42 inch waist) I can only applaud her.

Diets don’t work. It’s as simple as that. Not only do they not work, but also they don’t make people happy, unless you are a masochistic control freak. And even then you’re bound to be disappointed in the end when it doesn’t flick the thin switch for the umpteenth time. The only diet, which works, is low carb. I know this because I’ve lost a stone and my blood sugar level goes back to normal – I’m a diabetic so this matters. When I stop, I put on weight and my blood sugar goes ballistic. Simple, empirical stuff.

It’s interesting that the main resistance to Atkins came from two sets of people. Those who can’t stand slebs and all they endorse. I’m one of those, and the fact that Rene Zelweiger or however you spell her was doing it didn’t really matter one iota, particularly as I didn’t know who she was before her name was associated with that mad, population slaying Atkins diet. The other main opponents were those in the diet industry. I wonder why? Could it be because that the only proper way to do low carb is to eat whole, unprocessed foods? Food that doesn’t come pre-packed in a ‘value-added’ box, where less fat equal’s greater greenbacks tot he companies making them. The same folks who make Pringles also produce Slimfast. Something ironic there? I’m afraid the organic-loving tree huggers are secretly endorsing Atkins when they say a back-to-basics approach to food preparation is a good thing. Robert C would agree with you (as long as keep mainly to green veg).

When we were in New York just over a year ago, we found a health shop on the other side of the Hudson which sold a cornucopia of low card products. We were stunned and delighted by the range. Our eyes popped out of our heads. Atkins bread mix for $2.99? For goodness sakes, it was £4.99 in the UK! We stocked up on as much as our little armies could carry. But our mistake was the same mistake the Atkins corporation made in the UK. Firstly, it overcharged us UK buyers. Yawn. But the second mistake it made was thinking that the UK low carbers would fork out two or three times the money for identikit products to those we already knew about before LC-ing. Not the case. And more to the point, low carb versions of ‘normal’ food generally taste shite. In the UK, like every other western country with the possible exception of France, it’s hard to get real food that hasn’t had hydrogenated glutemised wankjuice added to it, but it can be done. And the variety of prepared food may not be much and since the Atkins Corp have left these shores, its now even less, but the beauty of doing the ‘real’ way rather than the American way is that don’t get flashy labels, you don’t get claims about the health benefits you can neither prove nor disprove and here’s the clincher: you pay the same price as everyone else. Tesco’s mince is Tesco’s mince whoever you are.

So in the link above, the main objection I have is not to Fern Britton’s statement that she’d rather be fat and jolly. Its been said to the point of tedium that we as a nation celebrate thin-ness without recognising our own happiness despite looking like a human dustcart. But to stick her neck out is undeniably a brave thing to have done, and good luck Fern. My main objection is to the supposed "expert", Nora Lane, who gave a rather Blair-ite warning about her impending doom. I just wonder how much the diet industry is paying her to bleat in such a hectoring and annoying fashion? Diet gurus have spent the last 40 years getting it wrong. If they were right then we’d all be stick thin and ‘fat’ would be the new ‘thin’. So we spend our lives being lectured about how we are all going to die because we are 2 stone overweight, and we are ‘burden’ to the NHS. Ooooohh, poor NHS. Stop taxing me and I’ll go private then – sounds fair to me. Bollocks argument anyway: once I’m dead (and at my weight I agree this is statistically likelier to happen prematurely to me than Miss Stick over there) then the NHS is relieve of my burdensome self forever. Since diets being sold to us don’t work, it gives the industry an excuse to blame us individuals for doing what humans do. Eating, drinking, shagging and taking drugs.
Well, I’m just glad that we in Britain don’t do Puritanism anything like as well as the Americans. But I can see a day when we’ve been lectured, bullied and harangued to death by people who, if you look at their own little wee farty lives, aren’t any different to us.

So Fern, my blonde haired beauty, stay fat, and thank God someone is resisting in the battle we face against the might and hypocrisy of the government and Big Business to be super-thin, live-forever, silicone clad, Botox-induced clones.

As the saying goes: live well, live badly, die anyway.

Review: Macca's masterpiece?

Early on Sunday, I was awakened by some quite yummy music on BBC London. Should be Sean Rowley, sure? But no, blow me, it was a re-run of Gary Crowley interviewing Paul McCartney, as his new album has just been released. It’s a two-part series, and if the rest of the album is as good as the first part, then I am impressed. The tracks I heard sounded like he wrote them for a latter-day Beatles. I always think that McCartney was the brains of the Beatles, where Lennon was the heart and conscience.

McCartney was the better songwriter, but in some ways more calculated and calculating than Lennon. Sort of a Noel/Liam Gallagher juxtaposition. And neither of them could write songs without the other. The exceptions such as Working Class Hero and Band on the Run stood out for this reason.

However, at long last, it looks like Macca is on back on form. I doubt very much he'll get much radio play on the chart stations (but then, who of any worth does?) , but with a warm toned production from Nigel Godrich of Beck and Radiohead fame, and some rather lovely tunes, he deserves to make yet another few million from this effort. If you liked the Beatles more tuneful efforts (Eleanor Rigby, She's Leaving Home, Martha, For No-One etc) then take a listen.

Standout track (so far): Jenny Wren - love the major-to-minor key change.

Lies, damned lies, and the District Line

You can tell winter in coming. The leaves are beginning to fall, the nights are drawing in (hello and welcome once more, S. A. D) and here’s how I can really tell kidding myself it’s late summer is no damn good any more: the District Line has adopted its unofficial winter timetable.

The District Line, the green line on the tube map, is a long, tortuous route that takes you east-west right through the middle of London. Slowly. The trains, known as D stock, are the most reliable on the Underground according to District Dave’s very informative website. http://www.trainweb.org/districtdave/ .

However, when I left for work this morning, BBC London was reporting minor delays. Minor Shminor. When TFL, the body which administers the tube network, say ‘minor delays’ its like the Russian politburo in the 50s saying that few people might be a little cold this winter and to make things better they’ve travelled east for warmth of Siberia. After arriving at the station, and hearing no announcements at all, not even the bleating, nannyish security messages which they insist of playing at Dagenham East every 20 seconds or so, a packed-to-the-rafters train pulls up after 20 minutes. This says RICHMOND on the front. This then terminates at Barking. Sorry, but geographically, we’re still 25 miles east of Richmond. There’s a Richmond Road in Barking, but that’s just plain cheating, chaps.

Anyway, we are tipped out at Barking, and like cattle, some of us jump on to the C2C train that’s sitting opposite. Just to get moving you see. This train is packed, but the next one is get-on-able. All this time, the RICHMOND District train is sitting on Barking platform 6 awaiting clearance. While waiting for C2C train no. 2 I overhear the walkie-talkie carried by a member of station crew. Overheard was ‘we have a full station here, any idea when the next train is coming?’ to which the reply is ‘we’ve got serious and sustained delays here, there is another train five minutes behind but I don’t know if its terminating at East Ham or going through’. The words to take in here ladies and gentlemen are ‘serious and sustained’

So on the C2C, I dial London Underground’s Customer Service Centre. This isn’t the normal 0207 222 1234 Travel ‘information’ line – actually I’m being a bit disingenuous putting ‘information’ in quotes because the guys there are pretty useful and generally accurate. However, the District Line control room is on 08453 309 874. This used to be advertised quite widely via posters on platforms, but alas, seems to have disappeared within recent years so I consider it a service to the public to post it here I made a note of it on my mobile two years ago and its good to vent your spleen sometimes. It may not achieve much, but only costs 15p or so and makes me feel better. Anyway, I asked the chap on if he would care to define ‘minor delay’ for me as it crossed purposes with mine, and also, the line controller’s at Barking. He said he’s speak to the line controllers on the eastern part of the line and change the message.

Our journey then moved on to Fenchurch Street and a walk to Aldgate. However, at Aldgate, the tannoy was still reporting minor delays on the District. So I dreamt all that then?

Which leads me to one conclusion. One I’ve suspected since moving eastwards in 2000 and being dependent on that green monster which purportedly serves our area. I used to believe that the mis- and quite often entire lack of information was due to incompetence on TFL’s part. Now I just think they lie to us.

Yes, following the rather fine service we’ve had all summer, its time for eastbound UPMINSTER trains to start terminating in at Barking unannounced. Even the drivers sound surprised when suddenly they are asked to take a packed train out of service early. You can hear the annoyance, even empathy with us sheep, in their voices. And although the timetable in our station claims to have been last revised in October 2003, us Zone Fivers way out east know better don’t we?


Mood: Growly
Books: Metro
Sounds: Anne Dudley, “Seriously Chilled”

Mum and dad's laptop adventure

Mum and dad are now equipped with a new computer, new software, new internet (ugh, dial-up!) and a few quick lessons on how to use it.  Well, mum has anyway.  I can't see dad getting too into it somehow, but then I'm not exactly handy with a screwdriver or monkey wrench so no complaints.

Only someone who knows my parents and their legendary technophobia would realise what a Very Big Deal this is.  But well done old farts, you've done yourselves proud.  Mum has even signed up for an evening course, Computers for the Terrified!  

Hey, they might even start their own blog after a while!

Mood:  Mellow
Music:  Art of Noise
Book: The World According to Clarkson

How safe is blogging?

This goes out to the blogosphere generally. It’s a question that up till now I’ve not had to think about too much. But today I found my blog on Google. This means it is now technically in the public domain.  The question I’ve been pondering is this: how safe is blogging?

I’ve been a big fan of VegHead’s blog at

http://www.fatsquirrel.org/bologs/veghead/

for quite some time now.  I happen to know him in a vague sort of way, and he has a great style of writing, some interesting thoughts, and the fact-o-meter is fantastic.   In it, he comments on his work, his mood relating to work, his relationship with his wife – not intimate stuff you understand, but just the fact that she is human, has feelings, both good and bad, and that the course of their relationship isn’t always perfect, though they seem happier than most as a whole, thank goodness.

One of my work colleagues asked me whether they could have a look at my blog.  I’m a bit wary to be honest, which is plainly ridiculous as, since its now Google-able, its there for all to see. And a surprisingly large number of people have indeed just done that. I personally know none of these people.

My fear is that something I say, particularly about work, will filter out, be seen as derogatory by my employer, and land me a pile of shite. I’m not being paranoid – Americans have been sacked for making even innocuous comments about their employers.  See

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=F00E17F63D550C728FDDA10894DD404482

for an idea of what I’m talking about.

Now I’ve not mentioned my employer by name anywhere on my blog, and nor do I intend to.  My return email address for comments is an international Gmail one. But it would not take a genius to work out whom I am employed by.  I’ve not made anonymous, for example, the name of my wife, daughter and family.  I’d certainly have no problem doing so if I believed it would cause embarrassment or hardship to them. Mostly, I’ll just refer to them, in these cases ‘a male friend’ or whatever.  But even if I made the mistake of mis-judging whether someone I knew minded being mentioned (eminently possible), that’s one thing.  It would be my responsibility to justify and/or apologise to any individual friend or relly I offended. My employer, on the other hand, won’t necessarily accept an apology. And I do take my financial responsibilities seriously. This means not rocking the boat, or at least not rocking it to the extent that would get me in front of a tribunal, or worse, sacked.  

Perhaps I’m just being paranoid. But my guess is, that since blogs are now taken seriously by employers in the States, it will soon be the case where someone British is booted out of a job for making comments their employer sees as hurtful to their business.

Mood: Pretty OK
Book: Adrian Mole and the WMDs
Music:  Anne Dudley

Sue Townsend's WMDs

I found some weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) while travelling home last night. In need of a book or three, I popped into Books Etc in the rather plush 02 centre on Finchley Road and found, to my utmost pleasure, the next book in a series I’ve been reading since I was about 14. This book is….Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction. These books I like for two reasons:

1) They have been a part of my life (and I’d guess about half a million other 30somethings) since teenage years. Oh, the joy of something which isn’t changing for some faddish reason or other, or at least the sense of continuity. Well, Adrian has changed, but his OCD-related humour is as rich as ever. The same old characters, the terrible/ovely Ashby de la Zouch is a character in its own right (now Adrian has moved to a loft apartment in "The Old Battery Factory, Rat Wharf" – great names). There is Pandora, his mum Pauline, his ever eeyoreish dad and a new love interest called Marigold.

2) Lynn uses a Book Courier to read her endless pile of queued up novels. This is a little machine the size of a packet of 10 fags, which turns text files into synthesised speech and plays them back through headphones, kind of like an iPod for blindos (yes, it plays MP3s too). I use, well, my screwed up eyes to do same. However, before we married, I used to read books to her, and every now and then, a book appears which suits the ‘reading aloud’ bill perfectly. Adrian Moles are the ideal format. I also enjoyed reading Bridget Jones to her. So the reading of this book has a nice, sociable feel to it, and it does at least mean we have a good reason to skip TV for a couple of hours a night.

Sue Townsend, the AM author, is going blind – she might even be stone blind by now, and the outcome of this has surfaced in AM’s gay friend, Nigel, who is now on the partially sighted register. I wonder where ST will take us with this character? I’ve not found any wild inaccuracies yet (myself and Big Wife enjoy having a giggle when sightlings make totally incorrect assumptions about how we live). I also wonder how many pro authors have had to resort to access tech to write their stuff. I’m assuming this was written using JAWS or Window-Eyes…or at least Zoomtext.

I’m up to October 24th, and when Lynn was about to drift off to sleep (as she will do, not matter what is playing, and annoyingly, however good it is), then I had to tell her to hide the book as I’d have been taking sneaky peeks. But from what I’ve read so far, Sue Townsend, is, yet again, a folk hero, and the Victoria Wood of observational writing.

New desktop PC (hooray)

At last, we are buying a new PC which should mean the last of the very reliable, very old Dell desktop we've been using for the last couple of months following the demise of our once-trusted, but spyware-ridden Fujitsu which has seen us through the last five years.

My sister will be donated the Dell, which is very generous of us, since its not actually ours to donate.

The American people and New Orleans

The kindness and decency of the American people is demonstrated here.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/02/national/nationalspecial/02charity.html?th&emc=th

The way it should be.  Now if only the wretched government could also pull its finger out.

Explosion in New Orleans

I’ve just heard that a chemical works in New Orleans has blown. As if the poor blighters need any more problems. The news just gets worse and worse. :-(

New Orleans madness

Firstly, a huge thanks to my Apple correspondent, Diego for his help in resolving some of my Mac questions. Much appreciated mate. I’ve sent you a separate email.

Secondly, just a message to any Americans reading this, particularly those living in the south. Us Brits are thinking about you. I’m pretty doubtful there is much of any worth that individual citizens can do from here, and unlike the Third World, its not for want of cash aid that the good people of New Orleans and the surrounding area – which is the size of the UK apparently – are suffering. It makes the London bombings of 7 July look like a teddy bear’s picnic in comparison. What the heck is the so-called President doing? Having a monumental wank by the looks of it. Watching the news over here, I’m surprised the US government hasn’t requested international assistance, particularly as half the American military is engaged elsewhere. It reminds me a bit of the Russian government's attititude towards the Kursk disaster where by the time international aid was requested, it was too late to save those poor bastards. Is the government of the US too proud to ask for foreign expertise? Once again, it looks like the government of the States is looking inwards rather than seeking help from friendly allies like those in Europe and Australia. And all this time, more and more New Orleans citizens are dying, being raped, catching all manner of water-borne diseases and generally having a sh1t time of it.

This year has been one for plagues and disasters of biblical proportions hasn’t it? Along with Chicago and San Fran, New Orleans was one of those cities I would have loved to visit, but I guess that’s off the cards for the foreseeable.

Mood: Looking forward to the (very quiet) weekend we have in store
Music: BBC London and the old proggers and kings of hair, Focus
Reading matter: Mac pages online

Numbering on Blogger/Word toolbar

Just a quick observation.  I’ve just started using the Blogger/Word toolbar and I’ve noticed that the numbering on the previous post is a bit weird (1…1….1). Hmm, think I’ll leave it as it is (

Zoom-ing on the Mac

Bit of a blogfest going on today as I’ve a few minor updates, other the weekend doings which are mentioned earlier.

The other update I suppose is my trip to the Apple store in Chavwater, er Bluewater.  I was extremely keen, as mentioned before, to have a good play on the Mac, especially with regards to its access features, Zoom and Voiceover.  Well the store was suitably empty and I even managed to grab hole of two Genii (or is that Geniuses?) who showed me how to finish off the job of making it work.  I had a good play, and here are my issues:

1. Zoom gives Zoomtext a run for its money.  So far this has been the best mag package I have used on the PC, so I was pretty impressed with it overall.

1. I was also impressed by its OS look and feel in general.  However, I must just ask any MacHeadz reading this (yes, I know there is a least one of you reading) – are there any keyboard shortcuts to do common functions?  For example, ALT-F4 closes a window in Windows; CTRL-C is the copy key, etc etc.   Since I try to use the keyboard if there is a mouse equivalent, then this matters to me.  Sure they exist, but can’t find much about them online. I certainly didn’t find many which were freely translatable from Windows, but a) I was fairly time-limited and b) I only really thought about when I let the store.

1. A Mac seems like a good idea in principle, but is it significantly better than, say, my standard Dell laptop (its an iBook I’m interested in)?  The only sin this laptop has against it is that it is pretty slow by today’s desktop standards, but then again it is three years old.  

1.   Can I be bothered to learn a new way of working?  I am forced to us PC software at work, and I’ve not done else from about 1990 when I first acquired the old Ness (home build job) 386sx running DOS 4.01.  Windows/PC day-to-day operation seems pretty neat by those standards – those days when using a Mac was entirely different ballgame to running a PC . How different, other than the fiddly little learning differences, is one from the other now?  I hate computers for their own sake in the sense that my wife is.  I just want something which works and does a few small tasks well, eg, Internet, WP, email, blogging.  The most advanced thing I currently do is log on to work via an SSH secure link (which apparently can be done on the Mac, but I suppose I’d better check to be sure).   Not much to ask so perhaps a Mac is just overkill?  

Mood: Hot, but generally feeling pretty fine.
Book:  Mac mags (ooh the excitement is excruciating)
Music:  BBC London burbling in the background

Lincoln (parked) - yeah, crap pun

We had a great time in Lincoln over the long weekend with Angus and Corie, her daughter (plus boyfriend) and were introduced to Corie’s old friend from school, Nicky From Bolton (Graham’s female nemesis and a real beer monster – or at least that’s what she likes people to think…).  

Great times, a barbecue cooked to perfection by yours truly after those bad kids opted out to play of all things, Cluedo. 15 years old and the sound of rebellion is deafening by its absence. A nice, sloppy long weekend.   C and A are the sort of people its just damn nice being around and we felt truly at home in their alt-gaff.  Lots of good music played, especially the new Ben Folds and some James Taylor-esque stuff by a band whose name I’ve forgotten.

We even climbed up what must be one of the Britain’s steepest hills. No, we didn’t make it to the cathedral on top, but we did find ourselves in the Magna Carta pub, which wasn’t a bad place at all as it turned out.  Clean bogs, always a good sign and getting back via the long way hone was fun (

The only downer?  Getting home again.  Nether of us wanted to leave and the train journey to London was a bit cack, but nothing untoward.  



    

Angry

I am pretty narked off today.

Mainly because I am working. Two weeks ago I asked for a week’s annual leave, which was denied because I this week, I am meant to be testing our new database with access technology.

Not happening. So we have a guest, Johan, at home, Lynn taking time off after I was the one to agree to have him over, and me at work when I should be taking Johan round London, and no f**king testing either. In the meantime, Michael is doing the tour thang, and up till now, Johan and Mick didn’t know one another. Good job Mick’s boiler is knackered and is benefiting from the use of our central heating and bathing facilities.

I am freaking jumping mad. What a waste of a good day.

We get some reasonably good jazz in yesterday as part of the Johan on Tour season, at the Cricketers in Greenwich, a pub, which I have to say, I won’t be a rush to return to, mainly because of the diminishing supply of beer. It became pythonesque towards 2200. No lager (apart from bottled Becks), no bitter of any description, badly kept Guinness. Shit, I’m surprised they managed bar staff (well there was one of her, but she was over-worked and was very, very, very slow due to a fault with one of the pumps).

And by the way, the famous Tai Won Mein Noodle House in Greenwich is probably the least guide dog friendly place I have ever had the privilege to go to. It took threats with a mobile phone camera (I’ll snap your picture if you don’t back down with your stupid and illegal denial of service) and continued and ever-more angry threats from me to report them to Greenwich Council’s environmental health department. I’m just glad I was in an incredibly mouthy and articulate mood yesterday, as my next step would have been to make a loud announcement to the restaurant’s clientele that apartheid was alive and living in London. This wouldn’t have got us served, but, believe me, when I have done this in the past, patrons do tend to leave in disgust. The management here are tossers and need to spend time chivvying up on the laws of this country. Much as I loved the restaurant when I was a student living in Deptford for their cheap and tasty gut-fillers, this is the last time I go there or bring friends. (And their steamed dumplings, which once set the benchmark in my opinion, were deep fried – nasty nasty nasty).

Mood: Grrrrrrrrr + + +
Book: Too tired to read
Music: Too busy chatting with Johan / Lynn / Mick and getting pissed in the evening, hence lack of book and dearth of music.

Political correctness - a rant

I'm going to have a rant, something I've not done on here for quite a while.

Its in response to an email I received from a list I'm on, suggesting that multiculturalism has caused the dilution of our society. While I agree that being British isn't the same as it might have been in the 30s, 40s and 50s (and I'm not massively displeased with that), the email then mention that the sender's sone had a been banned from wearing an England T-shirt for games because it 'might cause offence', an argument I've heard for all manner of petty displays of patriotism. This started my blood boiling and elicited this response:

Mainly, its doesn't appear to be ethnic minorities who complain about our so-called racism (er, patriotism). Its do-gooding white people who, since they've set themselves the onerous task of solving the world's problems, ought to concentrate on real racism (you know, the stuff that causes real bloodshed and guts distress and reduced opportunities), and not this kind of thing which will only cause an ethnic minority distress if they set out to be distressed in the first place. Ostensibly it looks as if PC should benefit people like me,but the only thing its done is drive real racism, discrimination against disabled people and other poor attitudes towards minority groups underground, or covered up the issues in non-English English if you get what I mean.

Most Political Correctness in my humble opinion is geared to appeal to the lowest common denominator and directed by people who really ought to take themselves less seriously. Lynn came across someone on a chatlist who described himself as sight-free. Now I might tread one few toes by pointing out what seems to me to be obvious, but what's wrong with 'blind' or 'partially sighted' as a description? Both phrases do the job required of them. Unless you actively search for alternative ulterior meanings (blind = unknowing, as it "too blind to see I was being taken for a ride by my manipulative partner") then its a word understood by 99.9 percent of English speakers to mean someone with no or seriously reduced eyesight.

Adam, somewhat sight reduced

A level update

Just in, a very proud daughter phoned me to tell me the news.

So to the tune of 'here we go, here we go'....

...three straight As, three straight As, three straight As!

Nothing much needs saying! What a cool dude.

Carly's A levels

We are eagerly awaiting Carly’s A level results. I’m probably more nervous than her.

Update to come as soon as I know…

Bric a brac

I am now using Putty to tunnel into my work PC which speeds up things nicely now we’ve got 2 meg broadband. I was getting heartily sick of the slow speeds I encountered using dialup but until how I’ve not had much of a choice. This makes things whizz. It is almost as fast working here as it is in the office.

Mum and dad have been decorating the house now for several days and its looking good. Surprisingly, its not been at all painful having them here. What I mean by this is that you always feel the need to clear up (which they’ve done anyway), and somehow ‘fit in’ with them, which we’ve done to some extent, eg, smoking outside, making lots of tea (ugh! Grim stuff). They’ve redecorated the bathroom and living room painting away the nasty pink wallpaper our house was blessed with when we moved here five years ago. The house is looking somewhat better than it was. Now all we need to do is move to somewhere bigger, and possibly further into London.

To reciprocate for all their help, I’m taking mum out to buy her laptop – think I have the one she’ll need. I’m a bit worried about the lack of memory though, I’d be going for a gig myself, but they seem to think 256mb will be OK, and since they are only going to use it for email, who am I to dictate they spend more money.

Still feeling sad about Nigel. Last night was chatting to Lynn in bed about all the things he’d never now be able to do. Thank goodness she is here to talk to – whenever I start thinking about him too much, I become quite maudlin about the randomness of life and death.

Mick has an interview next week – his first one in over ten years.

Music: Orbital, various
Mood: A bit flat but better than yesterday

Nigel Stevenson - RIP

I rarely mention people by their full names in this here blog, but I’m going to today, because he isn’t here to defend himself.

Nigel Stevenson, my work colleague for the last six years, died last night. He was 35, and his car was hit by another. I don’t know yet how or why. He died instantly.

Nigel smoked, in fact that’s how we met, in the smoker’s hole of shame outside RNIB in Great Portland Street. We smoked together, discussed writing together, as he too had written a number of pretty good pieces. He wasn’t the kind of buddy who you’d stake your life on, but he was a genuinely nice bloke, with a good heart and the sort of the bloke you could chat to. He was a moody bugger, and as a fellow moody bugger, I had a lot of empathy for him. We went to see Al Murray with him one evening and had a great time. He had a quiet, wicked sense of humour.

My nan died earlier this year, and I didn’t’ feel as devastated as I do by Nige’s death. Partly this is because we are the same age. Partly because of the randomness of his death. Partly because, well people like that, neither old, cancerous, hard-living, a hanger-around with bad company – they just don’t die do they? Where’s the fair play?

I’m writing this in the office, and earlier today you could hear a pin drop, just the sound of air conditioners to break the silence. All in all, a pretty sombre day for us.

So, Mr Stevenson, wherever you are, I hope you are doing well, either entertaining God with your wit, or haranguing the Devil himself.

And to my compatriot and colleague, fair thee well old bean.

Mood: Sombre
Music: Silence for once
Book: Watching the English by Kate Fox

The bus in London - funky (or least not dowdy)

A friend of mine works for the Snivel Service’s Department of Transport, and we got into a smallish debate about why bus patronage in London keep rising, while every where else, it falls year in year out. I wanted to know his theory.

Mine is simple. London government has made car ownership, or certainly drivership, quite expensive. Also, the bus priority measures in London (CCTVs in bus lanes, bus-controlled traffic lights) have made bus travel faster than elsewhere. Also, other than some towns in the North and Scotland, the cost of travelling on buses in London is comparatively cheap, especially when you include the aggro-factor of driving, plus the expense of parking. Plus, if you live in Central London, owning a car itself is tres pricey with residents' tickets and the likelihood that some kamikaze parking nazi will book you even if you park legally in your own street. This has led to a middle-class rejection of the car. Or rather the middle classes have come to realise that in London its not so important own cars given the existing reasonable alternative. Bus travel in London is the only place where it can be called classless. Ken has done wonders - where as the train was always seen as multi-class with its wealthy commuters and scurrying suburban secretaries, it never shared the same stigma of the bus.

Thatcher (that lovely woman) once said that a man aged 26 or over finding himself on the bus should consider himself a failure. This stigma never applied to trains, and to a lesser extent, tubes, which served some quite wealthy suburbs like Northwood, Golders Green and Epping. Unbelievably though, the reason the District Line is having problems with dwell times at stations was because it was decided in 1975 or 6, when the D stock trains were designed, that since Underground patronage would inevitably go down (yeah, right), they'd build the trains with smaller doors. So even the tube wasn't safe under the 80s Tories; they considered it a means of transport only the poor would need to use.

This sad philosophy failed: this is because there are only two options to choose from when considering a rising amount of cars in a fixed amount of space:

a) make car ownership harder (eg, more expensive)

b) build more roads. Which the Tories were quite happy to do, a la M25, numerous by-passes and so on). This was destined to fail. Numero uno, we like to kid ourselves we are a "green" nation. This is obviously bollocks, but it is true that Brits hate the idea of killing their environment, as they crank up the heat to max and invest in that new truly earth-saving 4 wheel drive leviathan. Secondly, simply put, no one wants to live near a motorway. The only time this is acceptable is when you are at the M52/M6 TravelLodge and want a hasty start to your day's journey.

Cuddly Ken's adoption of plan a) has left a vacuum of journeys which still need to be made by people who still need to make them. Thus, the tubes of London are busier than they have ever been. The Victoria Line itself is running 3 times over its intended capacity, with a train about every 3 minutes throughout the day, the most that can be run, bearing in mind trains actually need servicing, cleaning etc. This vacuum is further being filled by buses, which to some extent have plugged the gap left by clearer roads courtesy of the congestion charge. In London, unlike any other city in the UK, the bus too has become classless, no matter what Thatcher in her "wisdom" would have to say about it. In a sense, getting a bus in London is like experiencing a microcosm of London itself.

Elsewhere buses are full of chavs, elderly women doing the shopping, and the Thatcherite definition of a loser (read poor), as well as the desperate looking, lost person who's car is in for a service.

Ken - we love you. Now London now only has the cheapest bus transport in the UK, but one of the best.

Except the 103 which is appalling both in fleet (knackered old Olympians allegedly due to retire in November) and timetable. A bus every half hour in the evenings and all day Sunday is no incentive to spend the evening in Romford, our local large town.

Its not because Londoners are inherently greener than anyone else, or have a nostalgic attachment to their red double deckers. Its because they have no choice. And bearing in mind the environmental catastrophes, on a micro-level and on a world-wide scale, damn good they don't.

Reply to Diego's email

Hello Diego

Yours are the first comments I've recieved on this blog. Oddly, Gmail forwarded your first comment but not the second one, which i found on Blogspot, but my reply applies to both I hope. I did try replying to your email yesterday before realising that the reply-path was to anonymous-sender. Perhaps there's a setting in blogspot which can fix that, but maybe its because you've deliberately chosen to remain anonymous. There isn't a 'reply to comment' link on Blogspot which seems like a bit of an ommission to me.

Anyway, here's my reply.

(I'll keep this post on the blog for the next month or so which I hope finds you. Let me know if you read it, but bear in mind I can't reply to you via conventional email)

Hiya Diego.

Thanks very much for you helpful comments regarding the Mac operating system and Voiceover. I'm actually surprised you or indeed anyone else has found my blog. I tried looking for it on Google myself recently and it didn't show up on the first couple of pages. So far, its been a sort of personal random diary of bits and bobs significant to me rather than anything I've encouraged people to actually look at, hence the lack of (ie, 0!) comments. But hey, its a *blog* so I guess it was inevitable someone would find me some day :)

You are the only person I've come across with a visual impairment of any kind who uses a Macintosh. I think in a version's time or so, theMac will catch on with the blind and VI communities as word gets around that you don't have to spend a fortune on top of your computer on speech/mag technology to actually use the computer out of the box.I'm sure if Apple consult with blind and partially sighted users they can work wonders in perfecting Voiceover. My wife, who is a web developer and totally blind, was initially rather sceptical when I mentioned to her that I was dallying with the idea of buying a Mac, but now I think she's curious having read a few reviews. Her comments, backed up by the reviews I've read, is that as a totally blind user, you can use the existing package of applications which come with the standard out-the-box system, but there was no guarantee old software, which never had Voiceover in mind, would work properly. I'd be happy with a decent magnifier, but since my wife and I share acomputer, the speech element is important, as there isn't analternative for the mac as yet. And whereas JAWS can be used to navigate quite complicated documents and web pages, this doesn'tappear to be the case with voiceover right now, but I think she wants to play as much as I do regardless of its known problems.

A mate of mine used to use (I might have the name wrong here) Appletalk, which as you say, was phased out. I can see why Apple felt financially, if not socially,obliged to create an accessible means of entry to their systems -obviously the US education market is worth a fortune to them so it makes good business sense. However, I regard Microsoft's reason for NOT including a similar system, even a half-baked but workable one (yep, the Windows magnification 'program' is cr*p indeed). They say that they don't want to put small companies who currently design and market such software out of business. If they have such a big hearted attitude to small businesses, then I'm afraid this hasn't been evident much in the past (ask Netscape!). And they could do what most business do when they are large and want to acquire the rights of the smaller business - buy it up lock stock and barrel and invest Microsoft millions into making a product which doesn't bluescreen out (as my old copy of Zoomtext Xtra used to three or four times a day at work). At least they'd be able to write the accessibility code alongside the main windows code, which would in theory make a tighter, better integrated OS.

I'll be trying the Apple Store again, only this time I'll book up one of their Genius staff. To be honest, I was surprised at how full the store was, as I left work deliberately early to miss the rush. The staff were not unfriendly, but they did seem overwhelmed with the number of visitors. I suppose the West End tourist zone is never empty. Now, if they opened a smaller store in the suburbs....

Thanks again for your comments.

Best regards
Adam
London UK

Trip to Ireland / Christianity

Well I’ve been back from Northern Ireland since last Friday and loved it there. We drove the Antrim coast from Larne to the Giants’ Causeway, then on to Port Rush, via the scary rope bridge. With the mad weather they have over there – basically rain and wind 24/7 – it must be one of the most cut off spots in Britain. The whole feel of the place is one of isolation, and quite beautiful desolation. If anyone is reading this from abroad and fancies going to Ireland, this is a must-see, just so you can experience the atmosphere. Like a lot of Ireland, though, you will need a car, as public transport isn’t up to much. One day I’ll actually post some photos on this blog and all the crap I’m writing about might make a bit more sense.

In Ireland, as well as meeting my beloved mum-in-law (I guess I go against the grain of mother-in-law jokes, she’s quite a special woman and I love her to bits! – and what a life she’s had too), and Caron, Sandra, and the various kids, Lynn was baptised at Pastor Billy’s church in Belfast, my mum and dad met the outlaws for the first time (and got on famously – they’ll be making return trips without us now!). We did a lot of driving (Loch Neagh, Lisburn, Carrickfergus Castle). Had a generally and very needed chilled out time.

My parents are coming over next week to do the much needed decorating on our house, nothing major, but a lot of snagging. We’re trying to sell up still, but the housing market in our part of the world basically froze around October last year, I expect to by writing this here blog from this here computer in the same house next year. Sad, but London winning the Olympic bid has meant that we’re going to be outpaced price wise in the parts of East London we originally set our sights on. So it looks like we’re going to have to look elsewhere or remain in Daggers, which is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, this house as done us proud, and it’s a pretty safe area, within walking distance of the tube, and generally not too unfriendly a place to be. On the other, we are 16 miles from the centre of town, and getting in even when the tube is running perfectly takes over an hour. Mind you, if could be Hayes!! (Note, I grew up in Hayes, so I know what I’m on about –the one in Kent isn’t too bad though!)

After Lynn’s baptism, she needed to find a church over here. For her, whenever she goes home, she gets fired up on a religious kick, which then dies when she returns to Dagenham. And thanks to a guy called Graham, on the blindoscafe list, she found one. Its only about 7 mins from ours on the bus, and you can take a look at it by going here: www.bethel.org.uk. My first impressions of it? – well it offers a good mixture of both spirituality (if that doesn’t sound too ‘new age’) and intellect. I’ve found churches I’ve left to be lacking in one or both of these aspects. I told the pastor that I came to Christianity from a cynic’s point of view, and had quite a few problems with reconciling my religious upbringing (my parents were Billy Graham converts during his 60s London mission) and my ultimate faith in empiricist science. I’m also a very self-reliant person (Lynn wonders sometimes why I got married) and therefore leaving what happens in my life to an ‘outsider’, namely God, is something I’ve a real problem with. My independence hasn’t really been a issue up till now, I’ve got to say, because there are too many people unable or unwilling take responsibility for their lives, but I don’t suppose as a fully functioning Christian you can be 100 percent dependent on yourself. I feel like a complete weakling when I find myself needing someone else, or a resource I can’t get via my own efforts. Anyway, this is an issue I’ll keep on the back burner as I do intend to keep going to Bethel. If they can deal with me (and the minister didn’t seem fazed by directness in telling him what I’ve written above) then perhaps I’ve found the spiritual place I need to be.

All that I can say about the Lynn is that I’m proud of her for sticking her neck out so publicly. She is no longer afraid to tell people about her Christianity. Its deeply unfashionable in the London I know to admit your faith, and doing it, especially to her boss, who is a very public atheist, takes a lot of balls. Sometimes it feels how it must have been to be gay in a small village circa 1952.

The usual old crud

The answer was of course Sir Cliff. Who had no idea apparently that his song Honky Tonk Angel was referring to a prostitute until it was subtly pointed out to him after it had been released.

This week so far has been one of the most hectic ever. We’re going away in a few days time and I’m playing pre-catch up. This wasn’t helped by our servers playing rotten sods – aided by me I might add who crashed the system well after the only person with permission to reset the server was long gone. Monday was an 11 hour day and today was fairly short knowing that I’ll be up to my neck on Wednesday and Thursday.

Harry MdDowell, friend of Lynn’s family died on Monday of asbestosis – what a rotten way to go. I met him a few times, but he was hardly a mate. His funeral is on Thursday, the day before we travel of Northern Ireland with my parents and the Big Girl so thank the lord above we’ll be missing that. Given the Marno’s, it’ll be a drama fest being my capabilities. Lynn has kept her job after being job matched, and I’ve been told my boss that after being job matched meself I should be going up a grade. Oh the career rages on an express-train like pace. In 2000 years I’ll be head of ICT!

More good news. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this but Carly disposed of her mobile phone along with cash and cards on a train last Wednesday. Thank goodness for the kind station staff at Oxford station who picked it up and kept it aside for her. After they (or a passenger) raided the cash first. I was dreading paying out for a new phone and a new copy of Talks (speech software used by blind people on mobiles) which would have been around £180 – 250 smackeroonies. ]

This may be the last entry for a while as I’ll be away for a week or so, and in the meantime, have more work than I could possibly throw a large plank of wood at. I’m sort of dreading/looking forward to the holiday with my parents in NI, mainly because its their first time there, they haven’t met the crazy Marnos (who are a lovely bunch of people, especially Granny Annie (my mum in law, my two sisters in law Caron and Sandra, and Donna. But love them or hate them, they can be hard work. And let’s face it, after the last holiday I went on with my parents, to Prague, an unmitigated disaster, I swore that I should have left my last holiday with them back in my teens. It was only disaster really because some Czech fuckwits stole from them, not once but twice in a week. They aren’t the most streetwise of people, granted, and this sort of thing has never happened to either of us, but they deserved better. It’s just that you can only take so much stress on holiday. And Craigavon may have some rough edges to put it mildly (bullets fired through windows, you know, gentle stuff) but I do believe their wallet and possessions will mainly be safe.


Book: Just Metro at the moment
Sounds: TV – well ‘Bunking Off’ on BBC1 to be exact, but its only background as I type and the remote is underneath Lynn who is sleeping.
Mood: Knackered