In case anyone doesn't know, Archie is dead and Stacey did it. I imagine by this time the whole world has heard about that. Another thing everyone has probably already heard is that I don't like soap operas. That surreal glitziness of working class Coronation Street, that farcical drama and tragedy of rural life in Yorkshire, that irredeemably dystopic world of Albert Square. Those claustrophobic virtual worlds might be wonderful to some people, but seriously, I really don't care what happens. W
How do I describe today? Believe it or not, I'm finding that difficult. Okay, it's Friday, so thank God for that (or not, depending on religious beliefs or recent events in your life), but that doesn't do justice to the sort of wishy-washy lazy don't know what I want to be kind of day.
I mean, it's cloudy, right? Soft focus grey blankets of cloud obscure the sky, but it isn't raining, and far from it, because I see the sun shining. How is that possible? How is this Friday able to destroy my
Hot... Too hot... Music being played in the park....
Oh stuff it. I can't be bothered to type anything out. Sunshine does this to the british. My genetic compulsion to laze immobile whilst being slowly cooked is too strong to resist. Bye for now. See ya tomorrow or something...
I dropped down to the library this morning... Whaddaya mean you thought I might?.... anyway, I turned up a little earlier than normal and although the foyer was open, the rest of the building was closed off with a folding door. The security guards religiously open this barrier three minutes after opening time, every day. This morning it seems even that task was too onerous. No guard was in sight.
Eventually a pair of librarirans bravely decided to open for business. They went into the small
British weather is notorious. We have a long standing tradition of beginning conversations on that topic. Today will be no exception. Hurricane Bill (or what was left of it) certainly made an impression. It didn't rain throughout the week but we had some heavy showers and yet more amber triangles on our television screens every hour. Today is sunny and bright, a hazy vista of pale blue sky and silver edged cumulus on the horizon. It's also distinctly cold. Hang on, isn't this August? What happen
An early start this morning was required. I'd even had a phone call from a claims advisor to warn me that I had to get out of bed this morning. There was no problem waking up. Punch & Judy saw to that as they left for work, making my alarm clock pretty well redundant too.
As for today, a murky start, but the skies brightened, and ye gods did the temperature drop. Not actually as cold as it gets in Britain, not even frosty, but the effect was accentuated by the relatively mild if somewhat
One of the great bugbears of life is getting old. When you're young, you tend to sneer and roll your eyes, for the experience of age is something beyond you. Well, my hair began to go grey when I was a teenager so that never really made any impact on me. It all seemed normal and part of everyday life. I never got self-concious about it at all, even after enduring endless jibes about hair colour products for men.
It seems however that I've recently attracted an unfortunate medical condition I
I live in a world that is increasingly surreal. I admit that. My horizons have shrunk enormously with the loss of transport and means to pay for it. That alone shouldn't be too significant because although I don't get out of the house much these days, I used to do so a great deal, thus I recall how it was to have a life.
Ahh, yes, those were the days! Pummelling peoples ears with a drum kit, flying aeroplanes, driving fast cars, and generally acting like every other young man with enough mon
Today I got stabbed. The nurse pulled a huge metal needle from her bag of tricks and annoucned she was going to. I know the needle is actually a tiny little prod, but looking at the end of it wavering close by, it looks like one end of the Channel Tunnel. And she's going to push that into my arm? Yes, she is.
The happy ending is that I've survived my close encounter with the medical profession. It's interesting that the subject of health care is a big issue in Britain (again) as our coaliti
TV personalities often describe Swindon as dull and rainy. Well, nothing has happened in the last two days and today... Yes... It's raining.
So I'm sat in the library typing this out desperately trying to think of something meaningful to write.
Life, The Universe, And Everything
You can tell I'm bored, right? In todays blog I address the most fundamental question of about everything. Douglas Adams attempted this and got the answer of 42. Can I do better?
Lets start at the beginnin
There was a time when music store assistants smiled when I entered their shop. That was back in the eighties of course, when money was easily had and quickly spent, and a time when we were more prosperous even if we didn't know or felt it so. Whereas once all I seemed to do was buy things, all I seem to do now is repair things, or rather pay someone else to.
Last night I got the call from the music store to tell me my latest repair job was ready for collection. That particular box of tricks
The local paper said it all. In the arts pages our local music correspondent tells us that "There is no original music in Swindon for saturday night". So what's new?
Back in the days when I was working in local bands original music was as difficult to sell as today. In Swindon, it seemed as if no-one wanted to hear anything other than the same old chart hits they knew and loved. We had a cover-band called Locomotion (who are still going, I think) that cleaned up nicely from playing covers. T
A few years ago, a guy at work told me what the Polish were like to live with. He resided in a rented room, in a property shared with a number of Polish people. He told me of the attitude they were prone to, and the shenanigans they adopted if they didn't get their own way.
For my part, I took it with a pinch of salt. Perhaps my colleague was unlucky and his co-habitees were not the most genial sort of people to begin with. I didn't assume he was right about the behaviour of a nation.
No
Today I'm at our local sports center. I have to, because the main library is being visited by Her Royal Highness Princess Anne, and for security, us plebs are forbidden from accessing the premises. Personally, you have to wonder if she only wants to reserve the computers for a quick surf whilst she's in town.
Actually I don't have anything against her at all. I do notice that a certain Shirley Burnham, a pensioner campaigning to keep the Old Town library open, was planning to use the event t
Hilary Clinton has made a fashionably late visit to our shores and naturally the press conference followed. It's becoming a bit of a soap opera. Is it just me, or are political speeches becoming a bit commonplace? To some extent that's partly because of modern media coverage. With so many channels and air-time to fill, it seems politicians are rising to the challenge of opportunity. I guess that's politics. If you want to get ahead in that business you need people to hear you.
The subject m
Now I know I'm getting old. How do I know? Well sit down comfortably and I'll begin.
Exhibit A is a pretty ordinary computer printer, an cream coloured plastic box with a couple of slots and a mind of its own. Even when plugged in, it sits there resolutely doing nothing. Somewhere on the featureless surface of the box is a button that brings this reluctant technological wonder to life.
Somewhere...
I know there's a 'start' button on this thing...
For a moment, I nearly resorted
Can anyone be perfect? Some of us believe so, usually the type of person that wears a black polo neck sweater, a gold medallion, and earns millions by telling everyone else how they can be too. I wonder how we see ourselves? The obvious answer is to use a mirror or a photograph, but what I actually mean is our own perception of ourselves. Those lads in the street this last weekend no doubt regard themselves as good-for-a-laugh salt-of-the-earth characters. What? A bunch of drunken louts?
Hea
Yesterday afternoon I sat down to watch the news while I got on with other projects. It so happened I chose the moment when the space shuttle Atlantis returned to base for the last time. It was a majestic sight, watching this bulky and heavy 'aircraft' swoop down onto the Florida runway at three hundred miles and hour, a testament to the co-operation between crew and control, never mind the technical gizmos that enable this accuracy.
Although the shuttle is going to be hangared and serviced
For years Swindon has been a byword for Victorian pidgeon nests. Our 19th Century legacy has survived in all sorts of quiet corners around the town. For the most part, these brick edifices were as rundown and abandoned as their inhabitants. Yet as shabby as it was, it leant a certain character to the place. In recent years, I've wandered around the town taking photographs. The interesting patina of urban decay is simply wonderfully photogenic. The industrial archaeology alone is worth two gigaby
Amongst the crop of job adverts I've had to trawl through this week is a remarkable chance to be Country Manager in Denmark. They want a new ruler who can increase their market share. So if you want to blitzkrieg Europe at the command of the Danish armed forces apply now.
Of course armed forces need fuel. I was interested to discover a vacancy for an oil company in Kyrgyzstan. Managing a pileline in some forgotten corner of the world doesn't strike me as an exciting opportunity, though it w
Over the years I've met people on internet forums. We all say that. The truth is we haven't met them at all. They're just little icons and text messages from people far far away. How well can you know someone on a website? That's difficult to say. If there's one thing the internet allows, and indeed one of it's greatest dangers, is the anonymity of it. You can invent a persona and people do exactly that.
Time and again I hear stories of 'women' being unmasked as male teenagers (Good grief,
The lesson of todays sermon is never to to take anything for granted. My worry is that this will sound more like an exercise in paranoia. Nonetheless, the events have occured, and behind it all lurks a reason. Let me explain.
I make no secret of my predeliction for using computers. They're versatile tools and sources of entertainment. But as with all complex machines, sometimes they go wrong. The ebb and flow of my computers reliability has inspired various posts on this blog already. At lea
Life in the stockroom continued at its usual pace, a sort of disinterested shuffle urged on by the increasing frustration of managerial staff for whom laclk of enthusiasm is an alien concept. Then, without warning, the main lights in the stockroom went out. Only the individual aisle lights remained, casting an orange mood upon the darkness of our haunted store. It was like being inside one of the computer games where you wander around mazes shooting things before they rip you asunder. Or for tha
There's been a trend in recent years toward 're-enactment' documentaries. It isn't enough to simply tell us what went on, and show us maps, film clips, music, sounds, and the odd talking head, but now you have to get people doing these things to see what it's like. My own feeling is that you're going to fail, because the only people who know what it's like are the ones who went through the experience for the cameras, and then we only see the edited highlights.
There was one where a bunch of
Hunger knows no bounds. With the cash I had left I couldn't resist steak & cheese burrito on my way home. Yes, I know, my finances are now forever ruined, but the delights of takeaway food were too much to ignore. So I ordered my early evening meal and waited for the chap behind the counter to stop mashing the ingredients.
To my left the approach of a pair of lads was becoming obvious. Sometimes you just know a stranger is about to accost you, and the burlier of the two ambled slowly tow
