I am ecstatic to be able to tell you that an airdate has now been set for VICTOR: The Victor Davis Story, written by and starring my friend, fellow Montreal native and former housemate Mark Lutz.
Mark also happened to be a friend of Victor's, why is why he was incredibly driven to make this project happen. (The story of the making of the film is almost as inspiring as the Victor Davis story itself, though of course this one clearly has a happier ending. ) The show airs Monday March 26 at 8 pm on CBC. Write it down and program your VCRs, PVRs, TiVos, and whatever else you care to set up.
Please pass this on to anyone and everyone.
Monday, January 29, 2007
How far down the rabbit hole do you wanna go?
For me, a card-carrying ENFP, the inherent challenge of academia is always: how far down the rabbit hole do you wanna go?
I mean, I get sidetracked easily at the best of times. Most of you have, at one time or other, received some dumbass email containing a link to a goofy animation somewhere on the interweb and know this already; the internet is a dangerously distracting place. Throw some halfway interesting shit at me and see how long I can go without surfacing for air. But it's even worse for me with books. Because with the Web, you can get up, leave, and come back and dick around between sites. You get the occasional between-click breather.
But books are a different story. They are far more absorbing. They demand far more of my attention.
I'll probably grow old and sad like Meredith Burgess at the end of that episode of The Twilight Zone: finally, I'll have all the time in the world to read (because, like a cockroach that simply refuses die no matter how much bug spray you use, I am doomed to a hell of outliving you all, except for maybe the kidiots who live in my flat and who make cockroaches seem like a bevy of Playboy bunnies for house guests in comparison). But like Burgess Meredith in the Twilight Zone, my glasses will break and I won't be able to read them.
Anyway. Everything leads to everything else. It's all interconnected. I grok this.
That's why I've changed my thesis topic, oh, about seven times in the last week alone (whittled down from a shortlist of about 43 -- I kid you not). I've been drawing up this list of Really Big Questions that I've wanted to pursue for years now, but have never had the time or the incentive. Of course now I have the latter in spades, but nowhere near as much of the former as I'd like. And it's why I'm trying not to panic even at this very moment. Because the temptation is great to read more, get wrapped up in something, then reckon it may not be the topic for me after all.
See, these research questions always lead to bigger, more all-encompassing and all-consuming questions. Such as: Am I wasting my time? Is there something juicier waiting for me? Will this lead somewhere useful? Will this eventually benefit mankind? Or is my head so far up my own ass that what I am seeing is actually the view from my own navel?
You get what I mean.
I mean, I get sidetracked easily at the best of times. Most of you have, at one time or other, received some dumbass email containing a link to a goofy animation somewhere on the interweb and know this already; the internet is a dangerously distracting place. Throw some halfway interesting shit at me and see how long I can go without surfacing for air. But it's even worse for me with books. Because with the Web, you can get up, leave, and come back and dick around between sites. You get the occasional between-click breather.
But books are a different story. They are far more absorbing. They demand far more of my attention.
I'll probably grow old and sad like Meredith Burgess at the end of that episode of The Twilight Zone: finally, I'll have all the time in the world to read (because, like a cockroach that simply refuses die no matter how much bug spray you use, I am doomed to a hell of outliving you all, except for maybe the kidiots who live in my flat and who make cockroaches seem like a bevy of Playboy bunnies for house guests in comparison). But like Burgess Meredith in the Twilight Zone, my glasses will break and I won't be able to read them.
Anyway. Everything leads to everything else. It's all interconnected. I grok this.
That's why I've changed my thesis topic, oh, about seven times in the last week alone (whittled down from a shortlist of about 43 -- I kid you not). I've been drawing up this list of Really Big Questions that I've wanted to pursue for years now, but have never had the time or the incentive. Of course now I have the latter in spades, but nowhere near as much of the former as I'd like. And it's why I'm trying not to panic even at this very moment. Because the temptation is great to read more, get wrapped up in something, then reckon it may not be the topic for me after all.
See, these research questions always lead to bigger, more all-encompassing and all-consuming questions. Such as: Am I wasting my time? Is there something juicier waiting for me? Will this lead somewhere useful? Will this eventually benefit mankind? Or is my head so far up my own ass that what I am seeing is actually the view from my own navel?
You get what I mean.
Thunderbird migration
After weeks of nagging by Eudora, I finally made the switch. Apparently the version I currently use will no longer be functional after March 31st for reasons I'll explain in a moment, so I figured I might as well deal with it now and avoid the last-minute panic. Oh, I took the usual precautions; I dumped all my Eudora mailbox files and folders onto a backup CD, just in case. And although I've deleted the icons from the desktop and the startup menu, I haven't actually uninstalled it yet. You know, just in case.
I should point out that I didn't make the change lightly; I'm an electronic pack rat (I keep everything, even though I know it's bad for me) and you all know that I'm the personification of the term "creature of habit." I've been using Eudora (sponsored mode) for, gosh, probably a decade or more, and I've stored up about 400 MB worth of e-mail (much of it unread, I hate to say, but I swear SOMEDAY I will!!!...), and I've really grown accustomed to its interface. But alas it appears that Qualcomm is more or less winding the so-called sponsored mode down in the next few months and turning it over to the open source community. To which I say: Huzzah Qualcomm! Nice one. Initially I was sorely tempted to simply download the "new" version (7.1). That would have been the easier and probably less anxiety-inducing route. But I already had Thunderbird installed -- I use it (very efficiently) for all my RSS feeds -- so I figured, what the hell. I've been a fan of Firefox and have never had any issues with it, nor it with me, so I figured I'd give it a try. And the migration seemed fairly easy & straightforward, so I went for it.
It's early days yet but so far, so good. I've had to add a couple of extensions, like MagicSLR, so I had an easier way to "send later" instead of being forced to send my e-mail out immediately. (Sometimes it needs to steep a little longer, or age like fine wine in a cask; sometimes I just really need to rethink some foul-mouthed rant before I let someone have it between the eyes.) And I installed another one to help migrate my address book over, because Thunderbird doesn't like the way Eudora handles contact information, or vice versa. There's some other functionality I'm missing, like the ability to change sig files on-the-fly. (If anyone knows how to do this already, let me know; I haven't seen any in the Mozilla forums.) But the mail conversion and file/folder transfer went smooth as buttah, and mostly it's been a pleasant, and fairly uneventful, transition... he writes, with fingers crossed.
Not sure why I'm telling you this, except it may be some sort of manifestation of an averse psychological response to reviews of MS Vista and its creepware functions. Open source is good. Open source is free! (Although I donate modestly to the cause.) Now, I just need to work up the courage to install Open Office and finally do away with MS Office.
I should point out that I didn't make the change lightly; I'm an electronic pack rat (I keep everything, even though I know it's bad for me) and you all know that I'm the personification of the term "creature of habit." I've been using Eudora (sponsored mode) for, gosh, probably a decade or more, and I've stored up about 400 MB worth of e-mail (much of it unread, I hate to say, but I swear SOMEDAY I will!!!...), and I've really grown accustomed to its interface. But alas it appears that Qualcomm is more or less winding the so-called sponsored mode down in the next few months and turning it over to the open source community. To which I say: Huzzah Qualcomm! Nice one. Initially I was sorely tempted to simply download the "new" version (7.1). That would have been the easier and probably less anxiety-inducing route. But I already had Thunderbird installed -- I use it (very efficiently) for all my RSS feeds -- so I figured, what the hell. I've been a fan of Firefox and have never had any issues with it, nor it with me, so I figured I'd give it a try. And the migration seemed fairly easy & straightforward, so I went for it.
It's early days yet but so far, so good. I've had to add a couple of extensions, like MagicSLR, so I had an easier way to "send later" instead of being forced to send my e-mail out immediately. (Sometimes it needs to steep a little longer, or age like fine wine in a cask; sometimes I just really need to rethink some foul-mouthed rant before I let someone have it between the eyes.) And I installed another one to help migrate my address book over, because Thunderbird doesn't like the way Eudora handles contact information, or vice versa. There's some other functionality I'm missing, like the ability to change sig files on-the-fly. (If anyone knows how to do this already, let me know; I haven't seen any in the Mozilla forums.) But the mail conversion and file/folder transfer went smooth as buttah, and mostly it's been a pleasant, and fairly uneventful, transition... he writes, with fingers crossed.
Not sure why I'm telling you this, except it may be some sort of manifestation of an averse psychological response to reviews of MS Vista and its creepware functions. Open source is good. Open source is free! (Although I donate modestly to the cause.) Now, I just need to work up the courage to install Open Office and finally do away with MS Office.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Essential link
A long-overdue shout-out to Will MacCallum at Climb Your Ladder. I can honestly say that without Will's expert coaching, chances are very good that I wouldn't be here today (at Westminster, I mean, doing my MA) or be this close to running my first full marathon, among other things. Check out his site here. If you're in need of a helping hand to get clarity on your goals, or you need to get motivated and stay on track to achieve them, you could do far worse than to invoke some Will-power (sorry, couldn't resist). I'm putting Will's link in the Useful Stuff box at right, although in this case that's quite the understatement.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Broadcasters in political censorship scandal
Here in London, the environment & climate change are constant front-page headlines. I guess that's what you'd call a classic "good news/bad news scenario." The media in Canada may finally be waking up to reality too, from what I'm reading; I just found a very interesting story in the Grope & Flail which I'll get to in a moment. Basically it says Canadians now rate the environment as their #1 issue, even ahead of health care and security. Interesting.
What makes it all the more interesting that the broadcast consortium airing the Canadian federal election debates -- the English networks being CBC, CTV & Global who, by the way, make their fat private profits from the very public airwaves -- are signaling that once again they do not intend to allow the Green Party to participate in the next federal leaders' debates. And an election could be called at any time.
This wouldn't be nearly as galling if they had a set precedent or at least a consistent policy of "no seats = no screen time." That was the excuse they tried to use last time. As usual, the broadcasters didn't do their homework; in 1993 the Bloc Quebecois was invited to the debates, despite having zero seats in parliament -- and despite running only 72 candidates in Quebec alone. This, of course, is in contrast to the full slate of 308 candidates run coast-to-coast by the Green Party in the last two federal elections. On that score alone this arbitrary decision by the broadcasters is utterly indefensible.
So I need to ask you to take 30 seconds (or, if you're really ambitious, maybe a few minutes) to make our broadcasters more accountable and, dare I say it, more democratic. You don't have to be a Green Party supporter; you just have to believe in fairness and democracy to sign an online petition to ensure the Green Party's voice is heard in the next federal election leaders' debates. (As you've probably heard, environmental lawyer Elizabeth May -- from Cape Breton! -- is the new GPC leader. She's as smart as she is funny, or the other way 'round, so she'll make mince meat out of Stephen "Humorless" Harper, Smilin' Jack Layton and... oh yeah, Stephane Dion. I keep forgetting. But maybe that's why they're afraid to have her on?)
If for no other reason, you should be pissed that Canadian tax dollars partially fund the GPC (and other parties) after each election and therefore the broadcasters are denying you, as a taxpayer, the right to hear what the GPC has to say.
If this strikes you as being eminently reasonable, please take 30 seconds (or less!) and sign the online petition at:
www.demanddemocraticdebates.ca
If you feel really energetic, write a (polite but firm) e-mail or letter to the editor of your local newspaper asking those very same questions. (If fact, feel free to copy this post & paste it into a new email or Word, document, editing and/or adding your particulars as required.)
Okay, here's that story I was telling you about:
What makes it all the more interesting that the broadcast consortium airing the Canadian federal election debates -- the English networks being CBC, CTV & Global who, by the way, make their fat private profits from the very public airwaves -- are signaling that once again they do not intend to allow the Green Party to participate in the next federal leaders' debates. And an election could be called at any time.
This wouldn't be nearly as galling if they had a set precedent or at least a consistent policy of "no seats = no screen time." That was the excuse they tried to use last time. As usual, the broadcasters didn't do their homework; in 1993 the Bloc Quebecois was invited to the debates, despite having zero seats in parliament -- and despite running only 72 candidates in Quebec alone. This, of course, is in contrast to the full slate of 308 candidates run coast-to-coast by the Green Party in the last two federal elections. On that score alone this arbitrary decision by the broadcasters is utterly indefensible.
So I need to ask you to take 30 seconds (or, if you're really ambitious, maybe a few minutes) to make our broadcasters more accountable and, dare I say it, more democratic. You don't have to be a Green Party supporter; you just have to believe in fairness and democracy to sign an online petition to ensure the Green Party's voice is heard in the next federal election leaders' debates. (As you've probably heard, environmental lawyer Elizabeth May -- from Cape Breton! -- is the new GPC leader. She's as smart as she is funny, or the other way 'round, so she'll make mince meat out of Stephen "Humorless" Harper, Smilin' Jack Layton and... oh yeah, Stephane Dion. I keep forgetting. But maybe that's why they're afraid to have her on?)
If for no other reason, you should be pissed that Canadian tax dollars partially fund the GPC (and other parties) after each election and therefore the broadcasters are denying you, as a taxpayer, the right to hear what the GPC has to say.
If this strikes you as being eminently reasonable, please take 30 seconds (or less!) and sign the online petition at:
www.demanddemocraticdebates.ca
If you feel really energetic, write a (polite but firm) e-mail or letter to the editor of your local newspaper asking those very same questions. (If fact, feel free to copy this post & paste it into a new email or Word, document, editing and/or adding your particulars as required.)
Okay, here's that story I was telling you about:
Climate concerns now top security and health
BRIAN LAGHI
Globe and Mail Update
OTTAWA — Anxiety about environmental change has climbed so quickly within Canadians' consciousness that it now overwhelms terrorism, crime and health care as society's greatest threat, says a poll that kicks off a major Globe and Mail examination of the issue.
Enter the sandman
He came, he saw, he left me sawing wood: Good news in the form of a few hours' kip last night. Of course I was awoken several times by the kidiots -- especially the shrill pig-squealer two doors down who feels that every last thing she has to say is of dire consequence to everyone in the western hemisphere (doubly so after 2:00 AM), and therefore broadcasts her every thought to the world. Nonetheless I eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion. Either that or they finally shut the fuck up.
Here's hoping this is the beginning of a long trend.
Random thought: In my vision of a perfect hell, designers -- web designers and industrial designers alike -- will be forced to actually use their own products for eternity. I can't think of a better revenge than to have the pencil-necked geeks who come up with some of these completely useless, non-intuitive/counter-productive products and user interfaces have to experience the utter Sisyphean frustration that we, their hapless victims, feel. (I would have said "users" but that implies a measure of utility.)
You know the ones I'm talking about: the kind that offer you only a binary A or B choice, when your situation is always an unwritten third or fourth or fifteenth option down the line. Or the device that perpetually shuts off at the most inopportune moment because some bright spark decided to locate the disproportionately large 'soft-touch' power button right next to the most-used (and naturally subminiature) send/talk/save/help (etc.) button.
In fact, let's start a Design Hall of Shame right now. Nominate your worst design experiences under Comments, and be sure to name the guilty parties. (Or, send me a link to whomever has already beaten me to it.) If not, let's start with all circle-jerking Detroit automakers who, some 30 years behind all other sentient life forms, have finally started to think that it might make sense to build smaller vehicles that use less gas.
Here's hoping this is the beginning of a long trend.
* * *
Random thought: In my vision of a perfect hell, designers -- web designers and industrial designers alike -- will be forced to actually use their own products for eternity. I can't think of a better revenge than to have the pencil-necked geeks who come up with some of these completely useless, non-intuitive/counter-productive products and user interfaces have to experience the utter Sisyphean frustration that we, their hapless victims, feel. (I would have said "users" but that implies a measure of utility.)
You know the ones I'm talking about: the kind that offer you only a binary A or B choice, when your situation is always an unwritten third or fourth or fifteenth option down the line. Or the device that perpetually shuts off at the most inopportune moment because some bright spark decided to locate the disproportionately large 'soft-touch' power button right next to the most-used (and naturally subminiature) send/talk/save/help (etc.) button.
In fact, let's start a Design Hall of Shame right now. Nominate your worst design experiences under Comments, and be sure to name the guilty parties. (Or, send me a link to whomever has already beaten me to it.) If not, let's start with all circle-jerking Detroit automakers who, some 30 years behind all other sentient life forms, have finally started to think that it might make sense to build smaller vehicles that use less gas.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
To sleep, perchance to dream
Day Four of no sleep.
I tried melatonin last night; it didn't help at all. So I'm going to try the heavy artillery next and see if that has any effect. I'm going to have to make an appointment to see a doctor. This is simply getting out of hand.
I tried melatonin last night; it didn't help at all. So I'm going to try the heavy artillery next and see if that has any effect. I'm going to have to make an appointment to see a doctor. This is simply getting out of hand.
Wated days, wasted nights
Today's cheese report is brought to you by Lancashire. (Crumbly... but creamy.)
I have not slept in three days now.
The worst part of this is that I'm not getting any work done. I mean, it would be one thing if I wasn't sleeping but was able to use the time productively, to work on my papers and my thesis. But as it is I can barely string a sentence together. Yesterday I spent 1/2 hour reading one page of a book, only to realize that I hadn't taken in a single word of it.
So the last three days of my life have been completely wasted. And it's not like I'm gaining any more of them, either. I'm 44 and I'm on the downhill slide. My days are getting fewer, not more plentiful. It's not like I have any more to waste. But that's exactly what's happening.
I'm getting locked into a vicious cycle. I don't sleep, so the only way to even manage a catnap is to stay awake until I literally pass out from sheer exhaustion, which usually happens around 6:00 AM. By then it's relatively quiet in the halls, so I can actually sleep for a bit, at least until the kidiots start slamming doors and yelling again. But then I'm tired and listless all day, and I have no energy, so I lie down a lot and take catnaps, and do sweet fuck all else. And then I don't sleep at night because I've been catnapping throughout the day.
I was so desperate I took a small handful of pills this morning to knock me out (and to kill the headache that's been pounding in my head for the last few days as a result of the sleeplessness).
I'm seriously thinking about quitting and coming home.
UPDATE: Scratch that last comment. I'm not seriously thinking about ANYTHING. Nor even thinking, period. How can I, under these circumstances? Even the autopilot has switched itself off.
I have not slept in three days now.
The worst part of this is that I'm not getting any work done. I mean, it would be one thing if I wasn't sleeping but was able to use the time productively, to work on my papers and my thesis. But as it is I can barely string a sentence together. Yesterday I spent 1/2 hour reading one page of a book, only to realize that I hadn't taken in a single word of it.
So the last three days of my life have been completely wasted. And it's not like I'm gaining any more of them, either. I'm 44 and I'm on the downhill slide. My days are getting fewer, not more plentiful. It's not like I have any more to waste. But that's exactly what's happening.
I'm getting locked into a vicious cycle. I don't sleep, so the only way to even manage a catnap is to stay awake until I literally pass out from sheer exhaustion, which usually happens around 6:00 AM. By then it's relatively quiet in the halls, so I can actually sleep for a bit, at least until the kidiots start slamming doors and yelling again. But then I'm tired and listless all day, and I have no energy, so I lie down a lot and take catnaps, and do sweet fuck all else. And then I don't sleep at night because I've been catnapping throughout the day.
I was so desperate I took a small handful of pills this morning to knock me out (and to kill the headache that's been pounding in my head for the last few days as a result of the sleeplessness).
I'm seriously thinking about quitting and coming home.
UPDATE: Scratch that last comment. I'm not seriously thinking about ANYTHING. Nor even thinking, period. How can I, under these circumstances? Even the autopilot has switched itself off.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Q&A with Ken Clean-Air System
Q: How much sleep have you had in the last 72 hours?
A: Grrrrrrrrrrr.
Q: How late did the party down the hall last on Monday night/Tuesday morning?
A: Not sure. I finally left for the library at 4:00 AM to get away from the noise and cigarette smoke, and by the time I got back around 7 AM it had finally started to fade.
Q: Was the library actually open at 4:00 AM?
A: Oh yes. Now ask me if anything -- like, say, the internet -- was operational.
Q: Why? Was the school network down, even when most reasonable people are asleep instead of online playing Doom?
A: Ha ha ha ha ha. Surely you jest. Apparently you haven't read any of my previous posts. No,this is a university. Do you seriously expect that I should be able to do research? Study? Write papers? How utterly, charmingly naive. Ha ha ha ha ha.
Q: Who or what was that squealing like a stuck pig at 3:15 AM last night?
A: I can only guess. But I would have been happy to help put her/it out of her/its misery -- and mine. Apparently the furore was to do with something about the thin layer of snow that had fallen... and promptly melted completely away.
Q: Why can't you positively identity of the guilty noisemakers? They should be reported for breaching the lease terms.
A: Because we do not have spyholes in our doors, which has several implications. One is that people are vulnerable to attack, since the doors also lack security chains. Two is that we can't simply peep out of the nonexistent spyholes to determine the trouble-makers and file appropriate reports. Three, if we do want to file a report we need to get up, get dressed, go out into the hallway, and expose ourselves to violence and/or ridicule by confronting the drunken kidiots.
Q: Why doesn't hall management simply install spyholes? Surely it would be far less expensive than, say, a massive lawsuit, and would encourage greater lease compliance.
A: Because they are bollocking fucktards.
Q: Why is it so infernally hot in the residence?
A: Because halls management (see reply above) believes the best way to combat the current cold snap is to foment further climate change: Crank up the heat to intolerable levels and people will be forced to open their windows to prevent suffocation. All the heat being let out, in addition to the extra heat and pollution being generated by the excess power required to do so, will surely help warm the planet and melt the dreaded snow, which is nearly 1 millimetre thick in places.
Q: Surely you should count your blessings, no?
A: Of course. I am grateful, for example, that I have only 66 more days to spend in this shithole and then I can go home again. I am grateful for the chance to experience a constant LSD high without actually having to take illicit drugs, thanks to severe sleep deprivation. And finally I am grateful to be living among so many future prize-winning scholars, especially since the Darwin Awards are handed out posthumously.
Q: Would another cup of coffee help?
A: That, and a shotgun.
A: Grrrrrrrrrrr.
Q: How late did the party down the hall last on Monday night/Tuesday morning?
A: Not sure. I finally left for the library at 4:00 AM to get away from the noise and cigarette smoke, and by the time I got back around 7 AM it had finally started to fade.
Q: Was the library actually open at 4:00 AM?
A: Oh yes. Now ask me if anything -- like, say, the internet -- was operational.
Q: Why? Was the school network down, even when most reasonable people are asleep instead of online playing Doom?
A: Ha ha ha ha ha. Surely you jest. Apparently you haven't read any of my previous posts. No,this is a university. Do you seriously expect that I should be able to do research? Study? Write papers? How utterly, charmingly naive. Ha ha ha ha ha.
Q: Who or what was that squealing like a stuck pig at 3:15 AM last night?
A: I can only guess. But I would have been happy to help put her/it out of her/its misery -- and mine. Apparently the furore was to do with something about the thin layer of snow that had fallen... and promptly melted completely away.
Q: Why can't you positively identity of the guilty noisemakers? They should be reported for breaching the lease terms.
A: Because we do not have spyholes in our doors, which has several implications. One is that people are vulnerable to attack, since the doors also lack security chains. Two is that we can't simply peep out of the nonexistent spyholes to determine the trouble-makers and file appropriate reports. Three, if we do want to file a report we need to get up, get dressed, go out into the hallway, and expose ourselves to violence and/or ridicule by confronting the drunken kidiots.
Q: Why doesn't hall management simply install spyholes? Surely it would be far less expensive than, say, a massive lawsuit, and would encourage greater lease compliance.
A: Because they are bollocking fucktards.
Q: Why is it so infernally hot in the residence?
A: Because halls management (see reply above) believes the best way to combat the current cold snap is to foment further climate change: Crank up the heat to intolerable levels and people will be forced to open their windows to prevent suffocation. All the heat being let out, in addition to the extra heat and pollution being generated by the excess power required to do so, will surely help warm the planet and melt the dreaded snow, which is nearly 1 millimetre thick in places.
Q: Surely you should count your blessings, no?
A: Of course. I am grateful, for example, that I have only 66 more days to spend in this shithole and then I can go home again. I am grateful for the chance to experience a constant LSD high without actually having to take illicit drugs, thanks to severe sleep deprivation. And finally I am grateful to be living among so many future prize-winning scholars, especially since the Darwin Awards are handed out posthumously.
Q: Would another cup of coffee help?
A: That, and a shotgun.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Party time in Portugal
I'm feeling out of sorts again today, unmotivated. I think a lot of it has to do with not only the reasons mentioned yesterday -- coming back from a long vacation, missing D., etc. -- but also the current turmoil over my thesis. I really can't get my head around a topic. It seems that everything I'm interested in writing about has already been covered, or really involves areas in which I have little expertise. (It doesn't help that the library is all but closed these days, shut down by -- surprise, surprise -- ongoing IT work that has crippled the computer systems.) I'm not really juiced by anything. I'd asked a friend for some input and advice but haven't heard a peep, so I'm a bit bummed by that too.
Maybe putting up some happy pictures of our wonderful holiday (it seems like so long ago now) will help. Yeah, that's the ticket.
These shots were taken December 31, the day we arrived in the old(er) town Albufeira, after moving from Praja Oura (Oura beach). This first one is the main town square.
One of the many intricately tiled houses in the town:
This is the old town before the festivities really kicked off...
...and after:
The view from our hotel balcony (the one in the old town):
This next one is taken from near the top of a hill a few minutes' walk from the hotel, and just around the corner from the Tres Coroas restaurant where we wined and dined sumptuously prior to taking in the fireworks. You can see the pier from which they launched one of the sets of fireworks; there were many, as it happens. You could see fireworks all the way down the coast, as far as Faro way off in the distance. There were some further up the hill and behind us, too.
At the far left of the picture you can see the stage, set right on the beach, where -- gasp! -- Mel C ("out of the Spice Girls") performed as the evening's headliner. Surprisingly she didn't suck, much (she is allegedly the one who can sing), and she's got a more rock-oriented sound than you'd expect, but we didn't stay for longer than 3 or 4 numbers. We were more entertained by all the people running into the ocean during her set.
That's all for today. I'm going off to read more, and ponder.
Maybe putting up some happy pictures of our wonderful holiday (it seems like so long ago now) will help. Yeah, that's the ticket.
These shots were taken December 31, the day we arrived in the old(er) town Albufeira, after moving from Praja Oura (Oura beach). This first one is the main town square.
One of the many intricately tiled houses in the town:
This is the old town before the festivities really kicked off...
...and after:
The view from our hotel balcony (the one in the old town):
This next one is taken from near the top of a hill a few minutes' walk from the hotel, and just around the corner from the Tres Coroas restaurant where we wined and dined sumptuously prior to taking in the fireworks. You can see the pier from which they launched one of the sets of fireworks; there were many, as it happens. You could see fireworks all the way down the coast, as far as Faro way off in the distance. There were some further up the hill and behind us, too.At the far left of the picture you can see the stage, set right on the beach, where -- gasp! -- Mel C ("out of the Spice Girls") performed as the evening's headliner. Surprisingly she didn't suck, much (she is allegedly the one who can sing), and she's got a more rock-oriented sound than you'd expect, but we didn't stay for longer than 3 or 4 numbers. We were more entertained by all the people running into the ocean during her set.
That's all for today. I'm going off to read more, and ponder.
Landscape pr0n
Welcome to another installment of What We Did On Our Xmas Vacation. (Did I tell you that it's really hard to get back into the academic swing of things after nearly a month off, much of which was spent completely goofing off?)
Before I begin I should alert you to the fact that Blogger has been acting buggy lately, doing odd things to the way the photos are displayed in the last few posts. Sometimes all you see is a frame, or rather, a bunch of lines that should be a frame; although the photo/thumbnail itself doesn't always appear. However if you click on the pseudo-frame you can still get the full-sized shot to open in your browser.
Most of these shots were taken (I think) at Lagos on the southern coast of Portugal. Once again I apologize for the lack of real chronological order.
This last one was actually taken on our walk from the 'new town' of Albufeira -- the more overtly touristy/resorty one -- on our walk to the 'old town' Albufeira. Our condo is somewhere in the midst of the development you see in the centre of the picture.
Okay, back to reality now... (sigh)...
Before I begin I should alert you to the fact that Blogger has been acting buggy lately, doing odd things to the way the photos are displayed in the last few posts. Sometimes all you see is a frame, or rather, a bunch of lines that should be a frame; although the photo/thumbnail itself doesn't always appear. However if you click on the pseudo-frame you can still get the full-sized shot to open in your browser.
Most of these shots were taken (I think) at Lagos on the southern coast of Portugal. Once again I apologize for the lack of real chronological order.
This last one was actually taken on our walk from the 'new town' of Albufeira -- the more overtly touristy/resorty one -- on our walk to the 'old town' Albufeira. Our condo is somewhere in the midst of the development you see in the centre of the picture.
Okay, back to reality now... (sigh)...
Eye candy for the travel-impaired
Okay, so here are a few more photos to keep the gawkers vaguely amused... First up is a shot of me in front of a statue of el pacificador in Madrid near the Crystal Palace, a shot of which is posted elsewhere (if I can find the link I'll re-edit this post later and insert it). Quite who el pacificador is I'm afraid I can't remember, unfortunately, and I guess I really should do my homework before I post... as if I didn't have enough already...
Mr. & Mrs. Clean-Air System in the garden in front of the Royal Palace in Madrid...
A wonderful statue of Federico Garcia Lorca (can't pass up an opportunity to get a shot of another great poet in here somewhere)...
...and a sort-of-panoramic series of shots from the balcony of our villa in Albufeira, Portugal.
One last vision of serenity to leave you with for today. More photos tomorrow. Or later today, if I'm easily distracted.
Mr. & Mrs. Clean-Air System in the garden in front of the Royal Palace in Madrid...
A wonderful statue of Federico Garcia Lorca (can't pass up an opportunity to get a shot of another great poet in here somewhere)...
...and a sort-of-panoramic series of shots from the balcony of our villa in Albufeira, Portugal.
One last vision of serenity to leave you with for today. More photos tomorrow. Or later today, if I'm easily distracted.
January: half over, or half still to come? You decide.
Cheese update: Last week, amid all the sadness of Mrs. Clean-Air System's departure, I failed spectacularly to report a double whammy of special guest cheeses: Red Leicester and Double Gloucester. This week is another two-hander, as my fridge and stomach play host to Caerphilly & Cheshire. Oh, the tangy, crumbly goodness.
This past week I have read no fewer than 9 books. That's more than one a day. Even more, if you count the ones I just skimmed through -- and it's only the second full week of the term. My head is getting so fat I can barely fit it through the door, although it may just look that way because of the new haircut. (The profile photo was taken months ago.)
In a not unrelated matter, because my mind is racing faster than a hyperactive six-year-old on a steady diet of Red Bull, grande double shot espresso and Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs, what follows may or may not have any remote semblance of order or logic. So if you can't stay with the tour, skip straight to the new batch of vacation photos down below. I'm still posting them a few at a time because two days ago while I was uploading the last lot, Digital Village Idiot randomly booted me off again, and that's another half hour of my life I'll never get back.
Do yourself a favour: read this story from The Independent, then try to explain to your kids or your sister's kids, or your neighbour's kids (you get the idea) that the reason they'll grow up to wander aimlessly in search of sustenance and potable water across a post-apocalyptic wasteland is because our generation was too fucking lazy to walk to the corner store or vote for somebody with two brain cells to rub together:
Oh, and hey, have a nice day.
On the other hand, I went to my first yoga class of the new year today. It's pranayama yoga, in case you're curious, and for a low-impact, slow-moving... er, posing with lots of resting and lying down in between, it's a serious workout. Needless to say I'm proud of myself, also because I'm back into my running program now.
I submitted a draft of my thesis proposal yesterday. Actually it was one of three proposals that I wrote up, because I wasn't quite sure which one to do. That's the good news. The bad news is I'm even less sure now, and have since come up with another half-dozen ideas... in addition to the two pages' worth of notes and ideas for my final project that I've been kicking around for months. Sometimes being both a Sagittarian and an ENFP is no picnic.
Come back, Postmodern Sass. All is forgiven. We miss you. Although we've been getting our fair share of Dooce in your absence.
Note to Bill: you're not the only AOL user to whom I send messages that keep getting mugged in cyberspace. I think AOL just hates me. Which is fine because I'm not too fond of it either.
Oh shit! Speaking of library books, I have a pile I need to take back RIGHT NOW. Westminster has an unusual -- and, may I say, highly effective -- penalty system whereby for every day a student is late returning a book, his/her next borrowing privileges are suspended for a day. And I've got to feed my habit, dammit.
Therefore I was wrong about the photos. So sue me.
This past week I have read no fewer than 9 books. That's more than one a day. Even more, if you count the ones I just skimmed through -- and it's only the second full week of the term. My head is getting so fat I can barely fit it through the door, although it may just look that way because of the new haircut. (The profile photo was taken months ago.)
In a not unrelated matter, because my mind is racing faster than a hyperactive six-year-old on a steady diet of Red Bull, grande double shot espresso and Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs, what follows may or may not have any remote semblance of order or logic. So if you can't stay with the tour, skip straight to the new batch of vacation photos down below. I'm still posting them a few at a time because two days ago while I was uploading the last lot, Digital Village Idiot randomly booted me off again, and that's another half hour of my life I'll never get back.
Do yourself a favour: read this story from The Independent, then try to explain to your kids or your sister's kids, or your neighbour's kids (you get the idea) that the reason they'll grow up to wander aimlessly in search of sustenance and potable water across a post-apocalyptic wasteland is because our generation was too fucking lazy to walk to the corner store or vote for somebody with two brain cells to rub together:
Europe, the richest and most fertile continent and the model for the modern world, will be devastated by climate change, says the EU
The ecosystems that have underpinned all European societies from Ancient Greece and Rome to present-day Britain and France, and which helped European civilisation gain global pre-eminence, will be disabled by remorselessly rising temperatures, EU scientists forecast in a remarkable report which is as ominous as it is detailed.
Oh, and hey, have a nice day.
* * *
On the other hand, I went to my first yoga class of the new year today. It's pranayama yoga, in case you're curious, and for a low-impact, slow-moving... er, posing with lots of resting and lying down in between, it's a serious workout. Needless to say I'm proud of myself, also because I'm back into my running program now.
I submitted a draft of my thesis proposal yesterday. Actually it was one of three proposals that I wrote up, because I wasn't quite sure which one to do. That's the good news. The bad news is I'm even less sure now, and have since come up with another half-dozen ideas... in addition to the two pages' worth of notes and ideas for my final project that I've been kicking around for months. Sometimes being both a Sagittarian and an ENFP is no picnic.
* * *
Come back, Postmodern Sass. All is forgiven. We miss you. Although we've been getting our fair share of Dooce in your absence.
Note to Bill: you're not the only AOL user to whom I send messages that keep getting mugged in cyberspace. I think AOL just hates me. Which is fine because I'm not too fond of it either.
Oh shit! Speaking of library books, I have a pile I need to take back RIGHT NOW. Westminster has an unusual -- and, may I say, highly effective -- penalty system whereby for every day a student is late returning a book, his/her next borrowing privileges are suspended for a day. And I've got to feed my habit, dammit.
Therefore I was wrong about the photos. So sue me.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Digital Village Idiot turns up the "suck" button again
Just a quick post to warn you that things may get drastically slower from here on in as I once again begin to wrestle with the Internet Lack of Service Provider known as Digital Village Idiot, a Catalyst (mis)Management Product (or so they are foolish enough to proclaim -- but if I were them I'd run a mile and never, ever admit to being in any way related to such a shoddy, lame-ass, sub-par operation).
The shame of it is I actually had a semblance of throughput in the days just prior to and immediately after the Xmas break, and had almost forgotten my previous trials and tribulations -- enough to almost forgive DigEvil. But I guess their hamsters still can't run fast enough in their little wheels to provide sufficient power for more than three or four residents at a time.
Bollocking fucktards.
Anway, I'm off to bed. Even if I manage to sleep tonight you may not get the rest of the photos for a while, at least until I can get to the library... which I'm guessing has suddenly become strangely popular with Halls residents. Good freaking night. Sigh.
The shame of it is I actually had a semblance of throughput in the days just prior to and immediately after the Xmas break, and had almost forgotten my previous trials and tribulations -- enough to almost forgive DigEvil. But I guess their hamsters still can't run fast enough in their little wheels to provide sufficient power for more than three or four residents at a time.
Bollocking fucktards.
Anway, I'm off to bed. Even if I manage to sleep tonight you may not get the rest of the photos for a while, at least until I can get to the library... which I'm guessing has suddenly become strangely popular with Halls residents. Good freaking night. Sigh.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Here we go again
The title of today's post is a clever allusion (I hope) to the fact that our travelogue continues, as well as the fact that the hall kidiots were (are?) at it last night with a vengeance: it's 6:24 AM GMT as I write, and the partying noises have only just abated. I've been staring at the ceiling for the last couple of hours, trying to sleep through it. Good thing they're several floors below me, or it would really disturb me. I had set my alarm to go off at 7:00 today anyway, so I might as well get up. I resigned myself to the knowledge that I'm not going to get any more sleep tonight -- I mean, this morning -- anyway.
What's happening to me? Maybe it's age, but I have (literally) slept through earthquakes (more than once), rock concerts (ditto) and bad in-flight turbulence. So why can't I sleep now? If this is a symptom of aging, I don't want it. I take solace in the fact that it is already January 12 (!!!), and the current school term will be over before we know it. Now, on with the show. (A reminder to the computer-challenged among you: click on the photos to enlarge them.)
Forgot to mention yesterday that we took the train from London's Waterloo station to Paris via the Chunnel, which was an oddly minuscule portion of the total travel time clocking in at a mere 20 minutes. We walked around a lot -- in fact, most of our journey seemed to be on foot, consistent with our belief that the best way to take in your surroundings is at street level -- but found the Metro easy to navigate. Of course my fluent French didn't fail me so this made it considerably easier to figure out the configuration of the city into arrondissements. After staying overnight in the Montparnasse district we spent another full day in Paris, including a visit to (but alas -- due to time constraints -- not in) the Louvre, before taking an overnight train to Madrid. One or two of the shots here are taken outside the Louvre.
Apparently I only dreamed that had I previously blogged the news that I upheld the ancient Clean-Air System family Xmas tradition by getting the flu over the holidays. So to make you feel better about seeing all our wonderful, carefree, sunny holiday snaps I will tell you that I was feeling terribly ill with a nasty sore throat and chest cold for most of the time. Sadly this has affected my memories of the first half of the holiday somewhat, but at I have my journal, and of course these photos. I have a recollection of not sleeping on the train, partly because of my illness and partly because my elderly cabin mate Luis kept forgetting to bring the key every time he went to relieve himself after spending the night drinking in the bar car. (Owing to an SNCF snafu for which I wound up paying extra, and partly due to the shortage of seats over the busy holiday travel season, D. and I traveled separately on that train.)
Madrid was suitably magnificent. If I didn't manage to master Spanish while I was there, at least I managed to do a pretty decent job of it. Thank goodness for my background in French. Portuguese turned out to be far trickier -- I mean, it looks like Spanish, but sounds more eastern European -- but that's another story. Most of the pictures in this post are taken at or near the Royal Palace, an impressive 2800-room shack.
Anyway, I'm blithering on again. I said I'd just shut up and let the pictures do the talking. I'm just going to upload the pictures and hope you don't want/need any explanation; to be honest I can't actually remember where we were for many of the shots anyway, at least not without referring back to my notes, which I'm frankly too lazy, I mean busy, to do. (Did I mention my thesis proposal is due Monday?) By the way, credit D. with the photos... except of course the ones she's in, which were probably mine. (How do you know I took it? It looks like there's something growing out of her head, other than her dreadlocks I mean.) Oops, Blogger's getting cranky again. Maybe I've uploaded too many images or something, I dunno. I'd better sign off for now then. More photos later, like it or not.
Photographic evidence
I was going to title this post A Villa in Portugal after the song by The Pursuit of Happiness (which eerily came up on the infamously non-random iTunes just moments ago), but then that would set a dangerous precedent -- for me, anyway. Postmodern Sass has it down to an art, pardon the pun, and that's why I don't want to get caught up in that game. For one thing, it's not original. For another, I'd be horribly embarrassed if I couldn't think of a lyric that was at least somewhat tangentially related to the topic of the day's post, so that's a risk I'd rather not take. But I digress, as usual.Without further ado here is the titular photographic evidence of our recent holiday to France, Spain and Portugal. I may throw a little commentary in, but that would make it even longer, and I know all you want to do is look at the pictures anyway. so I'll just shut up and interject only when absolutely necessary to give a bit of helpful perspective.
We'll start, as the trip itself, in Paris... what could be more Parisian than l'arc de Triomphe? See, it's a lot bigger than you might think...
OK, wait, Blogger is doing strange things to the layout... ah, that's better... I think. Now where were we? Oh yes, Paris. Here's the Eiffel Tower at night (see below), and here is a rather psychedelic movie of the lights "twinkling" at night, which should open with QuickTime if your machine doesn't automagically select it... depending on your connection speed it may take a minute or two to download. That's D. narrating (volume warning).And now Blogger is doing funky things to the layout again... grrrr... wish I was a better code-monkey, I'd fix it good... Oh, screw it. It's past midnight anyway and I've got to go to bed, so I'm going to sign off and hope it gets fixed by the morning... bonne soiree, mes amis.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Trains, planes and automobiles
Feliz ano novo, as they say in Portugal -- a healthy, happy and prosperous New Year. Just a quick update to let you know that we arrived safe & sound earlier this evening from the Algarve, under a full moon and a very grey, overcast and windy sky -- a far cry (far in general actually) from everything we had left mere hours before. [Sigh.] On the way home we walked, took a taxi, took a train, a plane, another train, then a tube, then walked again back to Harrow. All we need is a boat and our modes of transport would be complete across the entire range.
Photos will be posted as soon as we sift through the mountain of laundry, take care of the kind of pressing minutiae and administrivia that usually awaits a road-weary traveler, then find all the photos fit for posting and upload them. Should take a couple of days. In the meantime, I note that I also have several hundred pieces of spam to delete in order to make room for bona fide messages on my mail server. Serves me right for taking a holiday, I guess.
Photos will be posted as soon as we sift through the mountain of laundry, take care of the kind of pressing minutiae and administrivia that usually awaits a road-weary traveler, then find all the photos fit for posting and upload them. Should take a couple of days. In the meantime, I note that I also have several hundred pieces of spam to delete in order to make room for bona fide messages on my mail server. Serves me right for taking a holiday, I guess.
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