Thursday, 29 May 2008

An Horrific Headline

After a pleasant lunch, I headed into the office from way out west, Ealing. I couldn't quite focus on my book so I spent the journey looking over other peoples' shoulders, reading their (mostly free) newspapers but I think I'll completely skip over today's news and current events.

As many may know by now, I'm not averse to the occasional late night but usually it's fairly mindless and relaxing. Last night was a slightly different story, I sat down, basking in the glow of my laptop (honestly, this isn't a monitor tan I have, I am Asian). I started a task that should not have taken more then two hours, this would have been just before eleven in the evening. Two hours passed and a number of hiccups (maybe a few distractions) later, I was still no closer to the end.

Part of the problem was the fact I was working from my sofa, it's the sort of sofa that I sink into in the morning then try and get up from in the evening, not really noticing the passage of time in between, also, it's near impossible to sit on it without putting your feet up so as you can imagine, it's not really conducive to working. Then there are the pop tarts, nothing is more distracting then the iced, jammy goodness that's ready in seconds!

Approaching two AM, I was all but ready to stop and sleep but I thought why not tap away (on the keyboard, that is) for a few more hours. By the time I had finished the job, I could see daylight outside, I don't mean the blue/grey twilight before sunrise, I mean full on daylight! Now would be a good time to stop and hit the proverbial hay, I thought, but that just wasn't to be. It was almost exactly at that time, my morning alarm chose to spring into life.

I'm now at the point where I can barely keep my eyes open but it's too late in the day to sleep. Having said that, it's not all bad as my ramblings are more aimless in a sleep deprived state (bearing in mind this is a relative quantity).

How do You Address a Canon?

This isn't the start of a weird joke, more, this is a classic example of how a innocuous comment in our office can quickly spiral into a forty five minute discussion with many differing opinions, citations, history and a few tears. Ok, there were no tears but there should have been!

If, on the off chance you're on the edge of your seat, the correct style would be “The Reverend Canon”, “His Eminence” would be for a cardinal (not, as a lot of people think, the Pope) and “His Holiness” for the Pope. How is this the least bit relevant to my life? I hear you ask, well all I'll venture at this point is that you'll thank me should you ever come face-to-face with a Canon, a Cardinal or Pope Benny.

From one to the same, I watched a lot of Benny Hill as a kid and, yes, I liked it. I know it's not very politically correct to admit to that in this day and age but please, bear in mind I just referred to God's representative on this Earth as 'Benny' so one can safely assume I'm not on that particular band wagon.

This one sketch that sticks in my mind for no real reason, in-fact I can't even remember the entire sketch or even the context. All I remember is a lady telling Benny that his long lost father was a canon to which he says “My father was a canon? Well I'll be a son of a gun!” and for some reason, this still has me in stitches.

Wednesday, 28 May 2008

Bed Head

This morning, I was presented with a rather unfortunate sight in the mirror. It would seem that all the hair on the right hand part of my head has developed a mind of it's own, had a major disagreement with my scalp and has decided that it would be best if it didn't speak to or touch my head at all. This would not have been a problem had the rest of my hair followed suit in some sort of hair solidarity but it didn't! The rest of my hair was flat as if nothing had happened.

It was a rather surreal look and the only thing I can think of that comes close was that scene in Terminator 2, it was near the end when the liquid terminator gets a grenade fired into his face, blowing up half of it. As I'm sure most would agree, it's not a pretty look.

Off to work I went, my first course of action was to attempt to mend the rift between the head and the hair, hoping that I could help them work through whatever disagreement they were having. This was a bit of a lost cause as it seems the wounds run deep here. I tried some fiber putty, clay, two part epoxy resin and super glue (not all at the same time) but the hair was having none of it! It continued to stand there, smiling at me.

The only thing left to do (short of visiting Stephen Fry's hair cutting dopplegaenger, handing him a Bic and asking him to show no mercy) was to try and bring the rest of the hair to the same, disagreeable, standard as the right side. Thankfully this required relatively little effort and although it looked messy, it looked intentional. Fellow commuters didn't seem to notice (not that they would notice anything that's not printed in the Metro, some people look really engrossed in that “newspaper”). The people in my office didn't notice either, in-fact, I managed to get through the entire day with only one person noticing that my hair was messier then usual, I would call this a success.

Today was ok but should this happen again, I may not be so lucky, for this reason, I'm now in the market for a baseball cap.

Tuesday, 27 May 2008

Intents

Having nothing to do on the bank holiday weekend, I took some friends up on their offer to go with to the Hay festival in Wales. I had a quick (too quick as it happens) look at the weather and thought nothing of it, a bit of drizzle wont be a problem.

We were camping and witnessed a down pure the like of which hasn't been seen since Noah's days but that was Sunday, Saturday was a nice warm day. We got to the campsite and setup our tents, went to a few talks then lit a fire, opened a few bottles of wine and settled in for the night. It was past one in the morning and most people had gone to sleep when a lady of Australian decent descended on to us. She told us she arrived that afternoon, didn't know anyone there and could not remember where her tent was (did I mention she might have been a bit tipsy?).

My friend gave me a look that seemed to say “I ain't doing it!” so I picked up the torch and off we went. We spent the next half an hour walking around the field, trying not to wake anyone else up and I was asking her what, if anything, she remembered about the location of her tent.

Finally, we managed to narrow it down to a few tents, tried to knock on the first one, only to hear a groggy voice asking “who the f**k is that?” After crossing that one off the list we moved on to the next one, we knocked, nothing, opened the outer door, nothing, opened the inner door and joy! The inside of the tent contained no people (which could have been embarrassing), but did have her bags.

I wished her a good night and went back to a now waining fire and a glass of cold red wine with one question on my mind, “how on Earth can someone forget where they pitched their tent?”

Friday, 23 May 2008

The Calming Scent of Vanilla

For weeks I've been walking around, going to work and just generally getting on with my life but with one, very subtle, difference. I've had a light smell of vanilla following me around. It's barely noticeable but it seems to make a huge difference. I think it's the reaction I have to vanilla more then anything else, it just calms and centers me so I'd say it's had a positive influence in my life.

It started when I bought a new watch (the old one coming to a slightly disastrous end), it seemed like a normal enough thing to do, that is, go into a shop, find one I like and buy it. It was after that, I started noticing this light smell every time I'd answerer the phone (for a while I just assumed it was the latest perfume and every one was wearing it) and it would have a effect of centering me just before I said “Hello”.

It was starting to become harder and harder to ignore, it was every ware! Once in the office, I raised my hand to my head in a “good God this task isn't going anywhere” type way when I realised that the smell was coming from my watch. Bizarre! It took me a bit of time using my favorite search engine to find that this is intentional. The watch manufactures impregnate the watch strap with a subtle vanilla sent, what a fantastic feature, I can't believe they don't advertise this fact.

With yet another mystery solved, when a crowded tube, jammed into a corner or pressed up against the door, I just raise my hand to my head in a nonchalant manner (I'm not going to be the freak to sniffs his wrist), take a deep breath and smile.....

Wednesday, 21 May 2008

Cut to the Chase

Every now and then I do myself an injury, from small things like stepping on a pin or walking into a lamppost (these things happen) to more major things like breaking my heal bone or dislocating my shoulder. Yes, these things hurt but pretty soon the pain subsides and your left with nothing but a memory.

On rare occasions, I get the type of injury that blows all that out of the water, the pain is constant, theirs no getting away from it. It hammers down on me in an insistent throbbing reminder that my nerve endings are very much alive! I am, of course, talking about a paper cut. Sure, you can belittle this and laugh it off but it truly is a nightmare. I'm constantly reminded that it's there, it's itchy and it's frightfully annoying!

That's not the worst of it, the thing that I just can't figure out is how. How did I get a paper cut on my nose? I don't ware glasses, I can pretty much read things without bringing the paper to my nose thus saving me this sort of injury. I don't generally feel the need to put my nose to my desk (thing thing under the mountain of paper), I don't head butt post-it notes, in-fact I can think of no way a piece of paper could have possibly reached my nose to unleash this world of pain on me but the evidence is undeniable, my nose does, indeed, have a paper cut.

Tuesday, 20 May 2008

Happy Workers

I have countless opinions that people, in general, disagree with, sometimes they raise an eyebrow, sometimes they just shake there head and other times they just say “what the hell are you on about?” One such opinion is when I say one of my favorite films is Toys and although I didn't fully appreciate it when it first came out, I still loved it and continue doing so today.

When I first saw it, I was a big Robin Willams fan (I know, not the person most 11 year olds look up to) and I enjoyed the quirky nature of the film, the vivid colours and I thought the story of a toy factory president going mad and building war toys was shear genius. Then, over the years, I saw it a few times and I never seemed to get bored of it.

Now, of course, I watch it (I have yet to buy it on DVD) and I see many, many references to Magritte, I hear an awesome soundtrack, I see great costumes, really surreal (again, Magritte inspired) sets and I still think the plot is shear genius. I appreciate that the film was ten years in conception, which given the visual 'feel', isn't that surprising. The plot now shows so much more, how the original owner never lost his innocence, a trait which his son shares and above all it warns of the dangers of taking life too seriously.

I'm sure you can analyze this film to death from a psychological perspective or from a special effects point of view or countless other angles but it all boils down to the fact that it's entertaining. A truly great film in my opinion.

Monday, 19 May 2008

Patents: The Last Straw

This is an age old gripe of mine but here it is anyway. Patents, in theory, were set up so that the correct person would get the credit (and royalties) for an idea. In practice, however, it becomes a race to see who can patent an idea first and (very much like our voting system) first past the post wins. This means, once an idea is registered, the 'owner' has the right to do whatever they like with it.

This system stifles creativity and ideas, inventions or even products that could help advance research or even make our lives easier just can't be done because they rely on something that's patented that the owner wont relinquish or want too much money (this situation is much, much worse in the pharmaceutical industry). The though that keeps circling my mind is why, when someone has a good idea, can they not just put it in the public domain? This way, if someone needs it, they can use it and acknowledge the owner.

I'll admit this is a little bit idealistic as, potentially, the original person who thought up the idea gets no money for it, but if it really is a good idea then surly this person would need to be involved with the development and would naturally be paid for his time. I would think this is a small price to pay for advancement and a true open market (you'll never be able to over charge for a product as this will now be a product anyone can legally research and make), imagine no more monopolies!

I ordered a popular carbonated drink which was served with ice (and a slice) and with a straw. The problem is the straw keeps floating up and over the glass. The idea I had was to put a one-way valve at the bottom (this valve can be integrated into the molding process of the straw, will be part of the straw and doesn't need to be overly water tight) thus keeping the liquid in the straw and stopping it from floating away.

So, this cheap solution to the problem (come on, I'm sure you've all been annoyed by this in the past) can not now be patented by anyone (you saw it here first) and if anyone wanted to make it, they could just go ahead and do so, making life that much nicer for bar goers everywhere!

Sunday, 18 May 2008

Sod's Law

Looking at the light drizzle outside, I decided to go for a ride, it was very light and felt the need to do something. I start by pumping up the tyres, I hear a slight 'snap', the leaver on the pump had broken off, not a problem, I haven't had a puncher in over a year, I'll just pick one up sometime midweek. So off I went, the destination of the day was Canary Wharf.

One of the things people never seem to notice is that London has a number of canals with people living in narrowboats. I went past a kayaking center and on towards Little Venice with more narrowboats including one which is a floating puppet theater. On towards King's Cross and up Pentonville Road which isn't too steep by seems so long!

Going down City Road (this time not going in and out of the Eagle) I always turn my head to see City Road tube station, it reminds me that London is constantly changing and even the tube map which never seems to change is a dynamic picture.

Finally getting to east London and I have to say, you really have to be on the ball to ride a bike in that part of the world. I was almost hit twice and had a guy open his car door right in front of me, I have just enough time to shout “What the f**k?” before swerving onto the main part of the road and smiling slightly at the apologetic driver. Finally just over an hour after I set off, I get to Canary Wharf! Every time I aim for that part of London, I always get distracted and never seem to make it, but there I was and there was nothing much to see so I pop into the climbing center for a few coffees and a catchup, met many people I hadn't seen in a while.

The return journey was pretty much the same until I get to Lord's cricket ground, my front tyre burst. Not a problem I thought as I always carry a spare inner tube and a pump in my bag. I look in and remember my pump is broken and that I'm pretty much screwed. So, why not walk and see if I can find a cycle shop, get a new pump then, at the very least, I can cycle home.

Lords had just let out so there was a constant stream of cricket fans coming towards me, I did consider stopping one and asking “so what's cricket all about, I don't get it, could you please explain it to me?” but thought better not to. I'm nearing Edgeware road when I thought to call 118118 and asked them for the nearest cycle shop, they tell me it's at Westminster which is an outright lie!

So, walking on, I pass an art gallery under Marylbone Road with come of the most surreal sculptures I've ever seen! Still, on foot, on towards Paddington by which time, I had given up all hope so I get onto the tube and head home. I see a man who clearly has complete disregard for hattiquette and is relieving himself by a tree, by this I don't mean on the tree, I mean his is standing there, doing his business beside the tree!

I finally get home both tired and tyred, total distance covered: 29 miles. Not too bad but a far cry from the 120 miles I need (more on this some other day).

Saturday, 17 May 2008

Stating the Burning Obvious

As time goes by and the human race grows and expands to more and more places on Earth, we must be aware of the fact that we are making more demands on the planet's natural resources, space and (indirectly) food. We all need to be aware of our footprint (no, not of the carbon verity, don't get me started on that!) and more to the point we all need to be aware of the things that are putting pressure on what we can't renew.

I was surprised to read an article on fat, written, in this very context. We all know that as we run, cycle, swim or move, we need to burn energy to do so. If we just sleep the entire day sleeping, the lungs still need to move and the heart still needs to beat so the body will still be burning energy (admittidly, not as much). They then go on to say that people of a larger girth burn more engery at rest then leaner people.

All this energy must come from somewhere and the extra calories used by larger people (they claim 18% more) means they will be eating more food which means more water to grow the crops, more space used for farming and so on. So the whole point of this is that (as the headline suggests) fat is an environmental issue and a healthy lifestyle isn't just for your benefit.

I mention this because it made me think, how a lot of things we don't usually associate with environmental issues do in fact effect the planet in ways that aren't at first obvious.

Friday, 16 May 2008

What's That Got To Do With The Price of a Toothbrush?

I use an electric toothbrush, yes I know it's an incredibly lazy thing to do but it does a better job of cleaning my teeth then a regular on ever can. Anyway, it's getting to the point where I should retire the Braun so I spent a small portion of my day looking for a new toothbrush.

A number of people rave on about the sonicare, very nice I thought, the UV sanitizer seems a bit gimmicky as it wont really do anything other then degrade the plastic on the brush head. So I'll go for the basic model, went onto the Boots website, saw the price was mislabeled.

A bit of searching later and I found the price was indeed correct, £150 for the basic model! I had to double check that I was still looking at a toothbrush. Is the sonicare really that good? Can any toothbrush be that good? When did toothbrushes become so expensive? How on earth can they possible justify the price tag?

The thing is, whenever something like this happens, I always feel like I've 'missed a meeting', like something major has happened and nobody has told me about it. I guess this has a similar theme to the “I remember when I could have a meal, watch a movie and get the bus home and still have change from £2” thought but I really feel this is not the case here. I'm I getting old or is £150 a ludicrous price to charge for a rechargeable toothbrush?

Thursday, 15 May 2008

Feel It In My Fingers But Not My Toes

I got home tonight with a sense of disappointment. Please don't get me wrong, I've had a great day, the weather's been nice and work is good. I did my usual Wednesday thing by popping into the climbing center in the hope of scaling a few walls and getting some exercise.

I did my usual thing by spending a few minutes chatting with the friendly staff, I didn't realise that Iggy Pop was one of the pioneers of punk rock. I always thought the punk movement was a very British thing in the 70s, influenced by American rock but here I stood corrected! I reminisced a bit about the first concert I ever went to and my first crowd surfing experience. Anyway, here I digress.

The climbing, fairly simple when you look at it, start at the base and haul all that you truly possess, against the pull of gravity, to the top. For some reason, it just was not happening, I 'climbed' for two hours and never once reached the top! It wasn't through lack of trying either, my fingers, hands and arms ache, I do feel like I've had a real workout but still quite disappointed.

I'll do better next week I guess, onwards and upwards!

Monday, 12 May 2008

Hair Today

As a child, I hated going to the barber. I'd walk in with my day, they would put a plank of wood on the handles of the chair, joke about how short I was. As he would cut my hair, he'd joke about how he once slipped and cut someone's ear off (would I like to see the ear? No thanks), granted at the end of it all, I would get a lollipop but then I would have an itchy back for the rest of the day, it just wasn't pleasant.

Tonight I did very much the same thing, I went for a hair cut, how stark the differences! I sat down, they washed my hair and gave a quick head massage, then talked about Hugh Everett the third and his, then, ground breaking theories on parallel universes. Talked a bit about the big 'M' theory and how a number of theories the quantum physics seemed to merge into one when seen in a world with (I think) eleven dimensions.

Cracking open a bottle of a fine Welsh single malt, we chatted about various other things like HD tv, the fact that some countries don't seem to have an indigenous rebellious sub-culture that they can call their own so they create a mishmash of others that seem to work rather well together. How Mr. Bean seems to be more exportable to non English speaking nations then, say, Seinfeld.

We spoke about how in the London elections, a 'non of the above' option would have been invaluable. How the BBC iPlayer's volume control goes up to '11' and both of us thought 'Spinal Tap' was a real documentary when we first saw it. At the end of it all, my ears were once again visible. Over all, despite the fact I spent the evening doing pretty much nothing, an enjoyable experience. Alas, no lolly tho.

Sunday, 11 May 2008

It's Like Riding a Bike

It about this time of year that the sun comes up and my bike (labeled the beast for some unknown reason by a former owner) gets to see the outside world. It's been nine months since I last jumped on it so a nice easy ride to ease myself into the whole self-propelling peddling thing.

My first thought was to ride up to docklands, but fifteen miles there and another fifteen miles back would have been too much for a first attempt so, why not pick a random direction and see what happens? South it was and away from the hustle and bustle!

My route took me past Ealing, Gunnersbury, Brentford then to Kew and Richmond. Wondering which way to go and feeling a bit thirsty at this point, I was presented with three choices; turn back, go along the river or go up the impressively steep Richmond Hill. I so thirsty when I got to the top of the hill that I happily handed over £1.20 for a small bottle of water from an ice cream man!

Into the lovely Richmond park, I had to avoid some low flying deer. I got out the other side, relatively deerless and decided to go towards Hampton Court, I'd turn back there. I left the park via 'Ham Gate' which, oddly, put me in a small place called 'Ham', at this point I would have to admit I was lost but knowing that my final destination was Hampton, I figured I must be half way there.

After a bit of circling around, I asked a motorcycle instructor which way to go, he laughed at me but eventually pointed me in the right direction. Kingston was the next town I cam across and the rest was plain sailing! Finally, at Hampton court looking like I had just stepped out of the gym, I could do nothing but turn the bike around and cycle back home. The total distance was just over twenty miles but, at the time, it felt like a lot more.

I don't join a gym as I get bored very easily, I much prefer getting on the bike just to see where I end up.

Saturday, 10 May 2008

Abba but no Cheese

A bit of a mixed day today, partly because the office jukebox was playing a random mix that is more random then the usual random mix it plays, this is to be expected given the randomness of random music we have in our rather random collection.

For lunch, we paid homage to the Thai man once again but this time he had no red, green or yellow curry left, he only had pad Thai. In the last nine months, he has never had any pad Thai after 1130 and we were there at half one! An awesome experience, I don't think there are enough dishes out there that have both chicken and egg in them (an opportunity to go though two generations in the same meal) more I say.

With all this good fortune, something bad was bound to be looming in the distance. I love Montgomery Cheddar, it's probably the apogee of Cheddar production, I can't imagine how Cheddar could possibly get any better. The problem is that not many places stock it and if I by online, I have to order over half a kilo, as much as I love the stuff, I can not make use of over half a kilo of cheese, just think about how many nightmares that would give me.

So, as it happens, the one place near work that sells it has run out! They tell me that there is a shortage and it'll be a while until they can get some more in. I know, there's no use crying over spilled cheese but this is really good! Good French and Swiss cheese are great but you can slice up some Montgomery, place it on some toast and grill it (no doubt Lloyd Grossman would object to using cheese in this way but I don't care), it's pure bliss.

Bring back the cheese, that is all I ask.

Thursday, 8 May 2008

Fabric Softener Woes

I was telling my boss about a former flatmate I had who, in his infinite wisdom, thought that washing detergent tablets (the sort that come in a box with a netted bag) go in the washing powder drawer. They do not! Believe me, it'll just end up clogging the drawer and you'll spend the next few hours getting the now gunky detergent out of the drawer. The correct way (as the vast majority of people know) is to put the tablets into the bag then put the bag in with your laundry.

Why do I bring this up? Well, I don't understand why you have to put the tablets in the bag. From what I can tell, by spending hours on end watching my cloths going round and round, the bag is supposed to get everywhere. If I was to put the tablets in without the bag (not that I've ever done this) I'm pretty certain that the tablets would get around the same but independently. Surly this can't have a detrimental effect on my cloths, it's not as if I'm not putting enough detergent in or too much for that matter, it would be the same.

Perhaps this is like making a cup of tea. When I use loose leafs instead of a tea bag, I don't get tea, I get a cup of hot water, no wait, that's not right. So I can see no reason to use the bag but, saying that, I don't think I'd ever have the courage to put a load on without the bag.

That seemingly normal conversation aside, my next laundry related issue was the fact that my fabric softener clogs up my fabric softener drawer. I think I know why this happens, the fabric softener is mostly fat (apparently this is how it works) and the fat congeals to clog up the drawer. How can I unclog it? My best attempt so far has been to pour boiling hot water into it in the vain hope that it will melt the fat and clear up the mess.

I figure someone, somewhere knows how to sort this out, until I meet this person, I'm going to try and splice this into every conversation I have “Hi, I'm Josh, do you know how to unclog a fabric softener drawer?” I figure it'll be a nice ice breaker.

Tuesday, 6 May 2008

EMERGENCY

I received a disturbing message from Komoh Kamara Uma, the son of the late Minister of Mines and Natural Resources of the state republic of Sierra Leone. Now he sounded a bit panicky but, by the sound of it, he has good reason to be. His father was massacred by President Tinjani Kabbah's forces and he and his brother are now refugees due to the “condition of his death”, now this is slightly worrying for me as I always thought death was a rather final condition but I'm no doctor.

Now Mr Uma is one of the lucky ones as his father has deposited $32,000,000 and 42 kilos of gold (about 1.1 million US dollars worth, I believe) in a security vault in a neighboring country, he doesn't go on to tell me where but given what Mr Uma has just gone through I don't think I would either. After all his father (who worked for Major Koromah) would have been killed in 1997-1998 so poor Mr Uma has been a refugee for almost ten years!

So, why is this guy, who is rich beyond my wildest dreams, contacting me. The problem with his father's grand deposit is that he told the bank that it was only to be released to an authorised foreign partner but thankfully his father had the foresight to leave all the necessary documentation with his son. So all that needs doing is for someone in the UK to offer up this documentation to the security company and claim the money and gold!

Mr Uma will no doubt reward me handsomely for my involvement in this affair which is to be expected as I understand money laundering has some heavy penalties under British law. I'm going to write back to Mr Uma tomorrow and let him know that I'll be happy to help him access his father's funds and should the need arise, I'll even foot any legal costs which will naturally arise with a transaction of this size.

What an awesome day, the sun has been shining down on us and now it looks like I'm going to be a millionaire by the end of the week! Summer is finally here.

Friday, 2 May 2008

Boris and Natasha?

It seems that a few of my friends put a little cross by Boris's name today. Most say they only do so because “drivers are getting fleeced” over the congestion charge which may well be a fair opinion (we'll disregard the fact that the number of cars in the city has decreased since the charge was introduced), it isn't cheap if you have to drive in every day.

The thing that bothered me was the fact that not one of them could name another issue or any of Boris's other pledges. So it would appear that for a lot of people this is a single issue race and everything else is ignored. How can this possibly happen? People should know the issues that directly effect them, I refuse to believe that the thing that keeps most Londoners awake is the fact that they would have to pay if they wanted to drive into the city!

Anyway, I digress, what the world needs to see is the fact that Boris Johnson, despite the fact he many 'meet and greats', is actually a cartoon character. This is the only logical conclusion I can reach at this time. So the half baked plan I have is to drop an anvil on him from a great hight, if I am right about this, it should flatten him momentarily but he should then spring back up, unhurt, thus proving to the public that he is indeed just the creation of a cartoonist with a far too crazy an imagination.

Back on Tuesday,

Josh.