...of controlled explosions.

Fireworks and space rockets..it's all pretty much the same. A combustible in a tube designed to power itself skywards. The difference is that space rockets are meant to stay in tact, and fireworks are meant to explode as colourfully and as loudly as possible. So then consider failure: controlled explosions are subject to the occasional failure, so in the same way that you'll light the blue touch paper and stand well back and occasionally nothing ever happens, you will also occasionally end up with a Challenger disaster.
It strikes me that what space agencies perhaps need, are particularly bad fireworks makers...

Amazing but true 7

Christmas was invented in 1947 by the church to increase dwindling church attendance at winter time.

Manchester City 0 Birmingham City 0: match report

Amazing but true 6

Fire hoses actually squirt water. Ironically, water is ideal for putting fires out!

Banks in a nutshell.

You're out of money and we're going to fine you, and we told you so we're going to charge you for that. And we're open at 10 and closed at 4 so if you work days, you're fucked. And yeah, you've been a good customer but you're now skint so you can't have a loan or an overdraft. You can have a credit card, but we'll charge you 10% if you use it. And we've just told the government about your account irregularities and they've got your address because we know where you live.

(Next week, we'll be randomly electrifying our doors....remember to wear rubber)

Banks are rubbish.

Of whales, oil spills and naturally occuring bacteria (and cormorants and Jap O'Knees)

I want to explore ecological disaster from another perspective.

1) Whales swimming further north due to receding icecaps.
2) Naturally occurring bacteria thriving due to oil spills

1) Oops...I spelled whales w-a-l-e-s there for a bit...not with the dashes, that would be silly, but like the country o crooners and rugby players and only gays in the villageses.
Whales right? They get around. I'm going to make a bit of an uncorroborated statement here: I'm betting that they go pretty much where they want. They don't fly, so the sky is out. They don't walk around, so dry land is a no no. But I don't think they want that. I think it's generally accepted that whales were land mammals that were previously sea animals. So they got out of the water, strolled about a bit, and went back. I think that's what they want...where they want to be.
So right...it's pretty much 'the ocean'. That's where they hang. But which bits? Well, where they want, right? Where it's comfy. Where there's food and hopefully no Japs I reckon. Although I suspect they don't avoid the Japs any more than any other monkey in a boat. They don't know. We know.
I read some where once a while back that the whales are going more North than they used to, and that this is because the polar ice caps are receding. I don't know whether that's just because they can, or because there's more food, or because there are less Japs, but if that's true, it's true. They didn't previously, and now they do.
What if they like it?
Eh?
Global warming is a thing. I've discussed that here before, so I won't go into my stance in any detail now. It's a thing, but I wonder how much of it is us. Some of it is, absolutely. I just dispute that it's all us....or even...say, half. I don't know. Do you?
So, we're focusing efforts into reversing global warming and its residue.
So, I assume that means that the ice caps will be restored to their former glory.
I assume also then that the whale food will go, and all that swimming about and singing space will go(....and maybe the Japs will go back!)
So while the global warmists are bleating about our effect on the ecosystem and how we're changing environments, they/we might want to also consider that reversing it will do the same. The whales will have somewhere to go, which is fortunate. But it will also restrict that newfound liberty.
People like an argument, so I'll post one here for you: Whales don't think about that stuff.
They swim about thinking (whalish for): "Hmm...nice water. Bit peckish. Food! Nom noms! More food! Comfy. Nice."
Not stuff like: "Oh look! the back door's open, and I've got all that garden to play in.....wait, the back door's closed and now I can't go there...fucking monkeys with their opposable bits, think they're so clever with their harpoons and their floaty water devices all saving us and stuff...grumble, mutter..."

Here's a couple of other things: your dog doesn't know what you're talking about and your cat doesn't love you. Deal with it.
Harsh.

2) In the wake of the BP oil spill, I read this (which I have not substantiated):

Jane Lubchenco, head of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, said much oil had been "biodegraded by naturally occurring bacteria".

I don't know much about the nature of bacteria, or this bacteria specifically, but naturally occurring bacteria sounds as naturally occurring as naturally occurring cormorants and naturally occurring seals.
Just assume that girlies and hippies didn't only want to save the cute fluffy animals, and that every living thing was on the 'save' list, including naturally occurring bacteria. I suspect it's fairly standard for species (right word?) to thrive under ideal ecological circumstances. What if this naturally occurring bacteria thrived during this oil spill, and then we send out our trawlers and skimmers and chemicals and hippies with toothbrushes and detergent to clean up this spillage to save the cormorants and seals, and wipe out this happy colony of bacteria? Isn't that bad too? I'm pretty sure that all life on Earth started off as simple organisms such as bacteria.

I'm not advocating that we go spilling oil around to appease the naturally occurring bacteria. We spend our modern lives trying to eradicate bacteria in the kitchen, then we are encouraged to down ickle pots of bacteria laden yogurt each morning because it makes you...what? Digest better?
It does.
Does it?
Anyway, I'm off point.
I don't really have a point.

Over.

Classic literature for 100...

"John Hurt"

"Um...What is the shortest verse in the bible?"

r u bovvered?

I've mentioned before that I like to keep my standard and knowledge of English language....up.

Fail.

I'm the first to admit that my English isn't flawless. Indeed I like to bastardise English for my own amusement, but that's part of the game. I'm a better speaker than a writer. Since computers now proof read whatever I write, my spelling is simultaneously better and worse. Anyway, my point is that I'm not flawless, but I do have an interest in self improvement and I'm not at all interested in "you criticised this, but then you did that, and that's wrong". I do care, and I don't care, and you're probably wrong, and I can probably justify it, and if I can't it was a mistake, not sheer laziness or stupidity.
I'm aghast at modern English. SMS shorthand - which bothers me a lot, but which I consider to be justifiable in context - has started creeping into forum submissions and will find their way into serious literature in time. It's easy for me to assume that things like forum submissions are typed on a full keyboard, but I suppose it's entirely feasible that people are submitting them from mobile devices, and can therefore justify the shorthand. But still it's there. Forum submissions tend to be more verbose than SMS messages, and that's the way it will go. SMS shorthand will slowly ooze its way into English due to...not really acceptance, but apathy. Like when kids feel it's ok to play music on buses and we all sit back hating them and biting our lips. Don't tell me...you're the one who doesn't bite their lip, right? Good for you. Or wait!...you're the one playing the music because it's your constitutional right...right? You're young or at least immature, your mind will change and you will grow to hate those that you once were. And I'm right as well, so don't even say it.
..no really, shush.
Ubiquity and apathy will ensure that SMS shorthand becomes part of the English language. Most years, or indeed even more regularly, I'm appalled to hear of yet another 2000 words being inducted into the Oxford English dictionary. 'Words' like "D'Oh!" really, surely, don't need to be in the dictionary. There are others whose inclusion has confounded me, and I can't think of a single one right now. The English dictionary does need to be kept up to date, I acknowledge and applaud that. There are technological and medical based words which are genuinely new and which need to be in there. When 'brb' and 'lol' get in there (for all I know they already are), we've got problems. When 'r' = 'are' and 'u' = 'you' and '2' = 'to', 'too', and/or 'two', I'll start throwing stuff. I'm pretty certain it will happen and I'm pretty sure I'll regret throwing what I throw. Someone in Oxford (that's half a joke...I don't know if the OED is actually based in Oxford) will insist that we have to keep dictionary updates relevant for the kids to encourage reading and knowledge. Don't.
Don't dumb anything down to make it more interesting for kids. Kids have kid's stuff, and grown ups have grown up stuff. As part of human development, we move up to grown up stuff and feel like we've taken a step forward. If a kid is not interested in a dictionary - bummer...it happens.

Now, having said all that, here's the bit for the kids:
English is constantly changing. That is its beauty and its power. It's a forgiving language. You can say pretty much any sentence with words missing or in the wrong order and with dialect and accent, and what comes out will be recognisable...eventually, if not at first. It accommodates new words easily. It becomes a bit sadder with shorthand and laziness and stupidity...but even the stupids can use it. You can substitute 'r' and 'u' and it still makes sense...it's wrong, but it's 'getable' (in OED 2011 please). There's a lot made of how America and the Americans have ruined English. I myself have mocked American English in the past and I hear it mocked a lot still. What the mockers seem not to grasp is that time and separation changes English. What the English lampoon for being American bastardisation of the language is often down to evolution. American English is what?...300 years old? And I'm not talking from the perspective of that being young in relative terms, which it is, but it being old. It's about 10 generations old. Think of this in terms of your (deep breath) great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother. Lock her away, cryogenically frozen for 300 years and thaw her out now and see what she makes of modern English. She would kind of get it, but it would be so very different to what she remembered. Explain to her what an aeroplane is. Watch her face!..and while you're at it, ask her about cryogenics...she's way ahead of her time! A lot of Americanisms are old English, some obsolete in English English, but it's not necessarily broken English. Consider amongst many others: pants (trousers), trunk (boot), hose (tights), side walk (pavement), fender (guitar (no!...bumper (or quarter panel))). It's not wrong, it's older and different by separation. English English evolved, and American English did too, of course...just differently by separation. And it's ok as well. Brace yourself. Count to 5.....everything is still ok, right? It's ok.
Here's a thing...we (I) look upon Shakespeare as old fashioned. You may call it classic. I'd be lynched if I said I thought it was rubbish, but it's old and difficult to read. At least I tried. He would be dismayed at my modern English.
Here's another thing...Chaucer would surely have been aghast at Shakespeare's juvenile slang ridden scratchings.

I don't like what English is becoming. Mockery and derision will be my weapons, but I can't really win. It'll keep me amused though.

While I'm at it, what is up with the modern London accent? It's horrible! Is it African or what? Jamaican? It's not cockney any more, that's for sure.
m i bovvud? fkn right i m.

Amazing but true 5

Milk is cow piss.

The most dangerous job in the world.

Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did...backwards.
 ...in high heels.
Hers was not the most dangerous job in the world.

Alaskan crab fishermen face the highest on-the-job mortality rates. I've not been counting, but several sources back this up. It looks like hard work done by hard men and (some) women. It's definitely someone else's job. It struck me some time ago that hanging out with these people with a camera on your shoulder would also be crazy work. There have been a couple of behind the scenes shows which document the plight of the Deadliest Catch production crew. My suspicions were confirmed. Nutters, the lot of them. Often, these camera crews gain the respect of the fishermen and by the evidence of Deadliest Catch, that's not easy to do. These camera crews must be brave, tough, and more than a little bit unhinged themselves. The camera crews on board the Alaskan crab fishing fleet do not have the highest on-the-job mortality rates but they will be up there if this documentary continues indefinitely.
Bear Grylls does not have the highest on-the-job mortality rate. To the best of my knowledge, right now as I type, he's still alive. I watch his survival shows on Discovery not particularly to learn survival techniques, nor to watch him die - as with Steve Irwin, I suspect we'll be spared footage of his demise - but probably just to see what scrapes he'll get himself into and out of, and how. I know that Grylls has broken himself quite a lot in action, but he's a survivor, and he's surviving....although I'm guessing his bank balance is doing better than survival due to his TV shows. Like Ray Mears, it probably transpires that the best method of survival in the modern world is to turn your knowledge into money and buy the stuff you need. I'm guessing not all Ray's cutlery is carved from wood.
Anyway, what amazes me is Bear's camera crew. I don't know how many he travels with. I think it varies, but specifically it's the guy holding the close action third party view. This is a guy doing everything Bear does.....one handed.
He might get put up in hotels. He might get a warm dinner of not sheeps eye, and not squirming headless reptile, and not the inside a camels stomach. But this guy swims Arctic rivers, climbs trees, scales cliffs, pots holes, jumps off stuff, out of stuff and into stuff...one handed. To the best of my knowledge (and I know nothing more than that that camera still had legs on today's episode) he's still alive as well. He doesn't have the highest on-the-job mortality rate purely on that basis.
But his is surely in contention for the most dangerous job in the world.

Oooh! Ooooh!

Like many young lads, I have, on occasion, mused over my ongoing projects, trying to take them a step further in the hope that I might finally happen across a solution and maybe work towards a prototype and finally a life/species changing and, perhaps, money spinning product and/or principle. I speak of course of teleportation, time travel, and, on this occasion, anti-gravity.

It has struck me in the past that despite the relative modernity of the likes of aeroplanes, that nature has been providing clues to the possibility or indeed the probability of many modern technological advances for millennia. Birds clearly demonstrate the possibility of flight, and have been doing so since way before humans were picking their noses. (I'll have that one please!). Another clue for the aerofoil, although perhaps a little tangenital (I invented that), is stuff that doesn't fly. My favourite is trees. This example falls down a bit, especially...since trees do in fact fall down. But really, most of a tree's life span is spent not falling down. The massive majority of it, in fact. They spend loads of time exposed to winds of varying strengths and they have a tendency to not fly away. Ok, they're anchored to the ground, which helps, but in section trees are pretty much round, and round is a shitty aerofoil. Also, round, or cylindrical, in fact, is immensely strong. Each part of the structure supports each other part of the structure, another good reason why they stay standing. The corners of old castles were built on this basis...and light houses. Square and rectangular are also rubbish aerofoils: "It flies like a brick/house(/le(a)d zeppelin)" etc.
So, not only have birds and pterodactyls and bats and dragonflies and sycamore seeds demonstrated the possibility of flight, but trees and cows have been demonstrating how not to do it. These are principles that I've had in mind for a while, and in fact, it's not rocket science...which is really not all that difficult either. Research it: something burny in a tube and some semi-intelligent vectoring - that's rokkits that is!
So actually it's a bit of a surprise to me that it took us so long to start flying, because we were surrounded by inspiration.
So, back to anti-gravity...I'm a bit out of my depth here, because I don't actually get gravity. But I do...I've got a bit of it myself, and I'm attached to a rock by it too. It's apparently a very weak force, which is why stuff doesn't stick to me, and it becomes bigger, the bigger the object...like why I'm stuck to the rock, and why that rock is stuck(ish) to the Sun, and that Sun is stuck(ish) to some massive invisible thing in the middle of the galaxy.
I'm not even sure if anti-gravity accurately describes the project. I guess what we're looking for is something to free us of the gravitational influence of the planet. Hot air balloons, aeroplanes, rockets...and even jumping do that, albeit temporarily. But that's cheating, because that stuff only really works under specific circumstances. Jumping doesn't get us to Mars. Aeroplanes don't work in space. And rockets?....well, the thing is, it's not anti-gravity, it's vectored force, which will just as well work with gravity as against it. We want to be anti-ing the gravity of 'stuff'. Having broken free of the planet's gravitational pull, we'd presumably be trying to anti the gravitational pull of the Sun, and then, presumably, the massive invisible thing in the centre of the galaxy.

Somewhat unusually, I have digressed. That's what childhood musings are all about though..but I'll try to get to the point.
We don't have any blue prints for anti-gravity. There's nothing in nature to poke us in the right direction. At least, I can't think of anything. Nothing we see flying about does it with anti-gravity. It's all aerodynamics...apart from hot air balloons which, of course, are not natural, but that's about pressure differentials. This indicates to me that there is no way to achieve it. Of course, evolution hasn't finished yet, and we have some very talented scientists out there doing all sorts of unnatural stuff, and I'm not either of them...I'm just a (grown up) child, musing. So maybe our best hope is to take our lead from some of those things which spectacularly fail to anti gravity.

We need to be doing the stuff rocks don't do!

Know what I mean?

I don't honestly know where this is going. I've had a beer or two...and some...and I heard unsubstantiated reports of the death of someone I know today. So...well, I feel I need to speak about the death of Harry Carpenter. In a way, it's as much about anyone I've known, loved and lost, and I should make clear now that Harry Carpenter was not someone I knew personally, but he was certainly someone special to me.

When I was eight, I had a friend called James Wilkinson who aspired to be a boxer. I still have that friend and he claims to have bloodied my nose at some time in our history. I think Sylvester Stallone had a lot to do with his aspiration and Jim (as I know him now) never did become that boxer. He would have died. Somewhat interestingly, his endeavours since have involved him selling toilet paper to the Queen of England...which I think is excellent, and which goes some way toward answering certain questions about her majesty's throne room requirements.

As a result of Jim's interest in boxing, I started (as is my nature) to research the sport, and became particularly taken by Larry Holmes who was the heavy weight champion at the time. My unconfirmed belief is - speaking of Sly Stallion - that Apollo Creed of the Rocky series was based on Larry Holmes. I'm sure there are plenty of arguments for Ali being the influence there, rhetoric-wise. Larry Holmes was (and still is) my boxing hero but he came a bit unstuck taking on a young Mike Tyson way after his illustrious career had (should have) been put to bed. He badly under-estimated that encounter much like Ali badly under-estimated Holmes in a previous encounter.

Around the same time, I had become aware of Frank Bruno. His outrageous physique, earth shattering power and his humble Englishness was enchanting. Along with much of Britain, I think, I had my hopes on him bringing the (a) heavy weight title back to England. Sadly, Bruno's physique and lack of killer instinct worked against him, but I was rooting for him on the 25th of February 1989 (I had to look that up) when I tuned into BBC radio at a million o'clock in the morning to listen to our Harry providing commentary on the fight live from Las Vegas.

Bruno stood a chance. There's no two ways about it. Catch Tyson right, with that kind of power, and anything can happen. Sadly - while I hoped...desperately, desperately - I, like millions of others, did not entirely believe he was going to do it.

Harry Carpenter had become chummy with Bruno prior to this. He'd commented on many of Bruno's previous contests and Bruno's disarming personality won Harry, a nation, and arguably, the world over. Their 'double act' is legendary in boxing and world sport in general. Rightly so.

Bruno lost, knocked out by the ruthless and (at the time) indomitable Tyson in round 5 ( I had to look that up too). Let it be said that this was officially a TKO, but he was truly done for. Tyson won fair and square.

Harry was a truly professional broadcaster. He knew his subject and he kept himself well educated about all things boxing. His commentary was legendarily unbiased. When Harry uttered the immortal (hopefully) "Get in there Frank!" as Bruno rocked Tyson in the first round, I honestly believed, like him, that the unlikely was imminent. That, to me, is when Harry Carpenter became more than a voice. He understood me...he embraced my desire for Frank Bruno to vanquish one of the scariest and most ferocious boxers of all time. Harry Carpenter so so so rarely divulged his emotions on air. I was one of millions tuned in that night, sat on his shoulder hanging on every word. This is the measure of a great broadcaster. This in particular was an example of his great humanity.

I don't have god, but god bless Harry Carpenter.

Get in there 'arry!

2012 my arse

Surely the Mayans would still be around if they were so good at predicting the future.

John Terry

So, John Terry is Tiger Woods. Big deal. I'm going to throw down some stuff here which might get a bit random. It's a brain dump, as an old boss used to put it.

Vanessa Perroncel is Wayne Bridge's EX-girlfriend.
His ex. Now, I know it's tough when someone you consider a friend or at least a colleague - especially in a team situation where you suffer pretty much the full range of emotions as a collective - gets involved with your ex, especially if it was a particularly close relationship at one time or, indeed, if you still harbour feelings that perhaps she doesn't. (What am I, an agony aunt?!) She's his ex girlfriend and shit happens.

Now, I'm guessing we get to the point where someone says "But he's married!". Yes, true. But how often has this been the subject of the media criticism? My interpretation of the media coverage is that it's less despicable for him to cheat on his wife than it is for him to be involved with his (ex) team mate's (ex) girlfriend. They're not saying that outright, but there is far more mention of Wayne Bridge and Vanessa Perroncel than there is of John Terry's wife. I don't even know her name....Mrs. Terry then. (Toni, apparently).

He may have paid for an abortion. Hey hippies, this happens and it's not illegal. The (im)morality of abortion is another conversation, and my mention of it here does not necessarily indicate my opinion of it.

He tried to gag the media. You wouldn't? He's the face of several commercial products and his advertising income must be astronomical. This will probably all go to shit now the story has broken. I'm not saying he deserves sympathy. He made his own bed, after all. But you can't blame him for trying to protect his income with a cover up.

Now here's the more controversial stuff:

John Terry was exponentially more likely to marry his wife when he became a millionaire football player. In fact, his wife was exponentially more likely to marry him when she found out he was a wealthy football player. I don't know the history, so it'll probably transpire that they've been sweethearts since primary school and married since they were sixteen. At the time of writing, I'm betting not. John Terry would never have met Vanessa Paradiddle had he not been a football player and neither, I suspect, would Wayne Bridge. If Wayne Bridge and John Terry were stacking shelves in Tesco, no one would give a shit. Why? Because a) it wouldn't have happened at all given that models are not interested in shelf stackers, and b) if JT had got it on with Bridge's ex while he was married...again, so what? Would Tesco fire him? No. Would Tesco demote him? No. They'd tell them to sort it out and get back to work. The wife would either leave or they would sort it out and put it behind them. And we'd never know about it.
Here's another sordid point: If you think that JT is being unfair to his wife by having an affair, then he was unfair in the first place to marry her under false pretences. I'm sure he does love her. I'm sure she loves him. Now take away her good looks and his status and see how long that lasts.
"We're doing it for the kids"
Yeah, ok....we'll see.
If you place Vanessa Perroncel or a female of similar form in front of Joe Normal and they show an above average interest in him, you'll see that it would take a particularly resolute Joe to not reciprocate that interest. It's the way stuff goes.

British anti-jargon group blasts 'ambient' sausage snack

British anti-jargon campaigners were celebrating Monday after forcing a supermarket chain to change the labelling on a sausage snack which had been described as "ambient".

The Plain English Campaign said it had no idea what the "ambient sausage roll" was, adding the snack on sale at Co-operative stores took the linguistic biscuit.

A spokeswoman said that "the word 'ambient' was incorrectly printed on the label.
"This is now being rectified but thank you for drawing this to our attention and apologies for any confusion this may have caused."

Co-operative stores are now considering a line of linguistic biscuits.

None other...

The BBC news is irking me again.
I can't recall the exact wording used, because it was more than a minute ago, and I have a brain like a sieve...indeed, it is a plastic bowl with holes in it, and smells vaguely of vegetables.
I feel like I'm being a bit of a pedant, but I have heard the same thing twice in two days now. Something along the lines of "A seven-year-old boy's efforts to raise money for Haiti earthquake victims have been recognised by none other than the Prime Minister."
It's the "none other than" bit. I understand that it has come to emphasise the reverence of an individual, but look at what it actually says. We, particularly the English, have to remain aware of how idioms can effect the English language.
I'm betting the kid's parents recognised his efforts. Unless they are the Prime Minister, I'm guessing they are someone other than the Prime Minister.
I now recognise his efforts, and I'm definitely someone other than the Prime Minister.

Connexxion buses - the story continues...with a twist.

I performed a drunken blog a few weeks ago which, while perhaps justifiable, was maybe a little visceral. I didn't feel it represented me fairly, and I maybe went a little too far implicating the Connexxion tea lady in the great price conspiracy. As such, I removed it.
I was protesting the unadvertised 71% price hike on my night bus route and had sworn to boycott Connexxion as a result. I held out for a few weeks, but the nature of monopoly is that the little people are eventually forced to fall into place. Having said that, I've never since been charged the hiked price, so...well, since it's convenient for me to forgive them their sins, we'll (I'll) call it a pot hole in the road, and continue onwards.
...for now.
Last night I boarded an unpricehiked (look it up, it is a word) Connexxion bus in the direction of Amstelveen and promptly slumbered off to a far away imaginary kingdom where I can do no wrong...except that one time, but hey! I was woken by the bus driver who was encouraging some other slumberist awake utilising the medium of decibels. He was enquiring as to the passenger's destination. "Uithoorn" was the response, at which point the driver noticed me and asked the same. Since the answer to that question seemed to be "Uithoorn" that's what my mouth said. So he drove on until my brain reminded my mouth that "Amstelveen" was the appropriate response. So, not for the first time in my career, I disembarked a perfectly good and warm and wholesome bus for the frigid wastes of fuckknowswhere. The driver suggested that I walk back to the hotel and catch the bus in the opposite direction, which was due in minutes. Promptly then, he took his tin of good, warm wholesomeness, and drove off into the dark leaving me with one unanswered and key question - Which hotel where? (Is that two questions?)
I wrapped my scarf, ninja stylee, donned my gloves, and put my best foot forward...in a direction. There was a town map at the next bus stop. I stood for a while wondering why town maps never seem to have the ubiquitous and infinitely useful "You are here" sign until I realised that they put that where you actually are, and not where you think you are. I wasn't where I thunk I were, and although my walk had garnered me valuable information, I had been walking in entirely the wrong direction. So I turned myself around, my collar up and put my second best foot forward. I walked through the blizzard to the Amstelveen hotel where I could catch my bus in the opposite direction. I searched my pockets for the bus ticket...and it could have been any one of about a hundred. Arse! Now even if I didn't have to wait 4 hours for the next bus, I was going to have to pay...or walk. Shudder.
A car passed slowly on the newly snowven road, and I glanced around, I guess just hoping that it would take pity on a drunken maroonee. It didn't, of course. I don't think people do that these days. My Granddad did, but that's anuvva story aultagevva.
It didn't, but the next one did! It did! People do this?!
It was the bus driver! On his way home in his car! He saw me and stopped. He picked me up and drove me home. Well...near as dammit. Not to my door, but still!
It was my fault I was in that predicament. He tried to help, but he was battling my inebriation. It had been bought and paid for, and it wasn't going to lose!
This guy is associated with Connexxion. He's a Connexxion bus driver. It doesn't get more connexxted than that, and a few weeks ago, this Samaritan would have been on my shit list.
Hereby I retract, maybe not everything I said, but certainly I'd like to absolve some genuinely nice individuals associated with Connexxion buses from my great price conspiracy implication.
To him and the other good ones, I'm sorry and thankful.


(Did you look it up? It's not a word.)

...of microwave oven termination signals.

So I was sat in a small room listening to my microwave inform me with a number of beeps that its contents had finished warming. I know that it repeats this warning intermittently. I've sat in that room before, listening. Helpless.
I know that it eventually gives up. Its standard "I'm ready" signal is three monotone beeps. I now know that it repeats these every 40 or 45 seconds, because I just counted it and it came to 42. 'They're surely not going to choose 42 seconds as the repeat interval...it's just not human to do so. I'll come back to 'they' in a bit...it's pretty much 'they' that this is about. After a number of repeated "I'm ready"s - ten, I think, at a guess - it stops. When it stops, the last signal is not an "I'm ready" but a dismissive "Pfft" - a double beep. Now, for a series of beeps, this is very expressive. I actually feel like I've aggravated my microwave. I call it mine, but surely a microwave that can get aggravated is its own person...thing.
So in a factory somewhere - to be honest, I'm picturing Japan - a person or collection of persons ('they') decided the nature of the "I'm ready" signal, the interval between repetitions, the number of repetitions, and the final "Pfft" signal. They surely decided to make it expressive. I don't imagine that they meant to make me feel guilty, but the patience of the repetition and the shortness of the final "Pfft"...it's almost motherly.

"Fine...let it go cold then. You can do it yourself next time!"

So a 'they' or some 'thems' decided this. The microwave didn't. It was a human choice, unless they like...let a monkey roll some dice - I'm still, to be honest, picturing a Japanese fellow in a white coat handing dice to a monkey.
For clarification, the monkey also has a perfectly tailored ickle monkey white coat with ickle monkey biros in the breast pocket.
So I was thinking all this, sat in a small room, thinking how unusual it is that I go to a friend's house...or even an enemy's house...or a neutral house, for that matter...and see the same microwave oven there. There are loads of them. I'm guessing that the manufacturer of my microwave has a range of microwave ovens. I know that manufacturer is not the only manufacturer. I know I don't have only one friend, one enemy or one neutral person to visit. Start multiplying all that together and there are a veritable cornucopia of microwave ovens out there. I know from experience that some go "Ting!", some go "Beep!" and, well...I think it's probably just those in various patterns of repetition. Since I know they don't all beep three times, ten times in a row with a 40/42/45 second iteration period and with an exasperated two beep "Pfft" terminator, we can surely assume that the history of microwave ovens has been witness to myriad meetings of 'themses' deciding on the most expressive "I'm ready" combination. That's got to represent a vast amount of time in the history of human endeavour.
Consider that.

....then consider telephone ring tones.

Amazing but true 4

Worms are baby snakes.