Christmas time

Well, happy Christmas everybody.

But todays tale is one of nastiness and commercialisation.

Over dinner, listening to Christmas music, we ended up asking that inevitable question - when was the last Christmassy UK number one?

First we jumped back to Slade, to Shaking Stevens...then Cliff with Mistletoe and Wine...Saviours day...and then....um....

So, being the kind of people we are, we looked up the answer on Wikipedia. And it turns out we were right, just about.

With the single exception of Band Aid 20 - which to be honest, doesn't count because it was a group effort charity gig, the last CHRISTMAS number one was Cliff Richard. In 1990.

17 years ago.

Yep, we were right.

Cliff Richard Killed Christmas.

No. Bad Alter. No pudding for you. He didn't kill Christmas.

That was Mr Blobby.

New laptop

Having bought a new power supply, I'm still shocked at the price - $140 for one that works, not hugely well. But I can return it any any time, basicly before I leave.

Alternatively, I could just buy a whole new, better specced one for Christmas about a $1000, just about.

Any thoughts?

What should I look for?


Should I say "If you're stuck for Christmas Presents, mother can send me money easily...."

Advertising

There is good advertising and bad advertising.

Bad advertising, which leaves you unable to remember the product...or worse, reaching for the remote.

Compared to something like this garmin advert...

EU Treaty

You all know I'm not a mad EU fan - quite against it in its present form, even.

But everyone should enjoy this - warning, its got sound

Its by a pair of Members of the European Parliment, Chris-Heaton Harris and Roger Helmer....

New power supply

Ok people, sunday is BACK ON.

I have a new power supply. There will be a much, much longer post on the subject, for the simple reason I've got 30 days to change my mind on the subject.

You? Make up your mind? You couldn't choose a cake in a cakeshop
Alter, just because you've never seen me do it....

Anyway, there will be a longer post on the problem tomorrow, possibly with pictures -
Pictures? Hah!
- on the topic. Because the end of this saga isn't yet in sight.

Anyway, more tomorrow.

Sparks

People, my laptop power supply has now died - in sparks.

I am going to try to replace by tomorrow - but as its 7pm already, I doubt this.

So unless I post otherwise, we're now missing 2 players, and as such, is canceled.

Go work on the alliance side...

Dispaar the Despairing

The weekend

Ok people, we have a problem for us to consider.

The problem is simple - we currently plan to do an instance run in the ragefire chasm - or three. This requires a typical party of five - tank, healer and three DPS (and/or utility people).

Now, in the banking thread Piro has said about graphics problems - and as such, probably unable to run on sunday, which is a problem as he's our healer.

Now, Silvy, before you say anything I'd like you to read the page here.

In summery - you can't heal us yet, you can't get to the talents needed. So we've got a choice..
1) Do nothing
2) Level up somewhat, and reschedule for next week
3) Play alliance together
4) Other

Thoughts?

And for fun...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luVjkTEIoJc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qydY3xP3gY

Local news - or a bit of a screwup...

Now, as a few of you may know, I've had my glasses for rather a long time.

Not days, weeks or months, but years. Longer then half a decade - sounds impressive, doesn't it?

So I finaly went for a new pair. My prescription hasn't changed much in the last 8 years - about 0.25, which is basically nothing for someone who's -7 Blind.

So there I was, shopping for frames. Ended up with a pair...and another pair, for sunglasses.

Took about a week, a special offer and some (not to subtle) bribery on the part of the sales people to persuade me. The fact that I both prescription sunglasses and glasses - with all the mods - for about as much as a standard pair in the uk didn't hurt much.

Still, ordered, told they'd be ready in a week.

A week later, no joy.

Next week, they had the sunglasses in. But...its snowing here. Snowing. Sunglasses aren't majorly useful - so I wanted both pairs. So I said I'd be back in a week. I get back, and they have the lenses in for the day wear glasses.

Just the lenses. Till they notice that the lab had failed to apply all the coatings, which to me was Quite Important.

So did I want to take as it was, and have a discount? No!! I want what I paid for. So I explain I leave the country in January, and that I ordered them in November - about a month ago now. Slightly untrue...but close enough.

So they mounted the wrong lenses for me to wear in the mean time, and promised to put the proper ones in the lenses next week when they arrive.

Then, to top it all off, they were miffed when I choose to go running in my old specs, not my (temporary) new ones.

You'd think that an optician of all people would know that going out running, in the snow and ice, with a new pair of glasses on that distort the world around you differently to the pair you've worn for a third of your life MIGHT be a bad idea!

*cough* *cough* *muppets* *cough*

Bank Guidelines

As per sunday, I promised to write up some guild bank guidlines.

0) Be reasonable

There's lots of us, with lots of stuff. There will be conflicts. Mainly the blacksmith vs the Jeweler vs the Engineer.

Relax. There's always more we can get, farm, buy or otherwise aquire.

1) Craft materials go into the bank.

All craft stuff - no, really. Cloth goes in. Metals go in. Leather goes in. Most professions need little bits of this and LOTS of that. So throw the raw material in the bank.

If you've got lots of things that are only useful to one craft - like bronze settings for Jewel Crafting - they don't have to go in. But if you're asked for one...

2) Primary before secondary

Don't take cloth for bandages - its not funny. We've transfered over 300 cloth so far from the Alliance to the Horde to make those bags you're using, or the clothes the casters are wearing.

So only use the cloth you gather for bandages...if the tailor doesn't need it.

3) There's no need to rush

If there's enough *some material* in the bank to improve your skill ask yourself a question - can we use it yet?

If you can improve your skill so you can make lvl 30 items, when we're only level 20.....relax. It can wait a while.

4) Asking for money

Some of us have transfered money over from the Alliance, to help us hit the ground running. Mainly, Dispaar carries it. Once it runs out, it runs out.

We should be able to play without the cash. We managed it on the Alliance, and there's lots of us!

5) As usual, these guidelines are up for debate. I'm not the Leader. If you don't like something...TALK!

Oh, and leave a note saying you (dis)agree. Just so we all know where we stand...

My life stinks - and how to loose a weekend.

No, really.

It does.

Today we've encountered a small plumbing problem. The landlord has been and gone. A plumber will be here tomorrow. I've had a WONDERFUL time mopping up the stinking water.

We may even need a new bottle of bleach when I'm done.

--

And how to loose a weekend.

On Saturday evening, I was having a quiet night. Around 8pm, expecting Ali home sometime soon, I hear a knock on the door.

Expecting to see Ali, having forgotten her keys (its got to happen one day) I find myself presented by a horrible visage.

Half the roleplay group standing there in the snow - all six inches of it. Shivering. I don't think I heard the first knock.

Which I found surprising. Visitors!

Still, fair enough. Invite in, try and find out what was happening. Turned out we were playing Exalted. Matt was on the way to pick up Ali. Just no one had told me.

Ah well. But because I didn't know we were playing, I hadn't built the random number generator I needed. I don't have 6*16 10 sided dice to roll.

Anyway, sit there and quickly run up a number generator in java - which was a bit of a challenge. I've never had to sit and code in a timed contest - or a "as fast as possible" thing. For added fun, you had 5 people chattering about everything from why PERL is a terrible language - (no, its not - its wonderful. You just need a to remember it'll do exactly what you ask - even if it makes no sense a all!) - to the merits of the new game called Band Hero.

Must remember to talk about Guitar Hero some day.

Anyway, we played. And played and played.

And at around midnight, instead of being sane like, well, Ali, the rest of us trooped over to PC Bang - a computer gaming establishment I've already mentioned elsewhere.

Anyway, after a couple of games of Dawn of War: Winter Assault (Good game). And few rounds a scenario on Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne. Called DotA-Allstars (and no, don't ask me what it means), I finally got the hang of it. Rather then being a liability, I was useful. It just took a while to get the hang of it...

Anyway, by the time we got out of there, got home (it was SNOWING!), fed the cat and got into bed, it was 6am in the morning.

Four hours later, at 10a, in the morning, I was...aware of what was happening and on WoW for the scheduled 5 man horde fun. I don't remember much of what was said or done. I made some notes on what I've got to write, but beyond that....the rest of the day is one biiiiiiiig blur.

Although...I'm fairly sure I didn't do anything toooo stupid.

Odd dreams

I had an odd dream last night - odd enough to share.

This is only first draft - not complete, patchy and quickly done. I'll update if it repeats, or crops up again.

And oh, sorry Richard.
--

It's autumn in london - the cold winds are blowing, the rain is driving down and its grey. All around in a modern city are dark buildings. Empty of the living - but filled with zombies. Zombies all around, without hope or breath, wanting only to take from the living.

Still, within this waste are a few, very few hold outs. I'm traveling...flying even, to see a brother - to see Richard.

But even as I go I know with leaden heart that this time is the last. Past today, it won't be possible, for he suffers.

Pausing on a rooftop, I look at the place he took to himself. An oval building, surrounded by a low wall. Labyrinthine all around the place, long ago built to amuse as only a maze could - but now a thing of safey. Of hope.

Tall and high - though he lives on the lowest level. Above, infested like the rest of the city. The only access via a small courtyard, with a gate to the outside bolted and barred. Yet even that is still crawling with the corrupted. Yes, the corrupted - thats who they are.

(Corrupted by what, or who...?)

Still, no time for that now. For now time rushes forwards at a snails pace. Twelve clean shots to clean out the garden once again. A smooth glide down to that ever green space, filled with trees and shrubs.

Door opening to my knock, though it takes minutes. (Longer and longer, every time longer). Finally, he stands there in the dusk light, lit from behind by the burning oil lamps we brought here, so long ago.

Even from here, an arms length away, I see it there. Grey, green, spreading slowly over his one good eye. (His other...was it ever a fair trade? He never said.)

As the light fades we talk of things long gone, still standing there in the green. Those long ago games that age stole. Memories of travel and hope. Saving those we could. Remembering those who - no, to painful.

Still around one thing we dance. Family we talk of, those we have left. Those we took, and those we hold. Adopted and spared, twenty three lives won and lost with words of caution between us. Never hope, never dream.

As the last light fails he draws me in, for the night is dangerous, even to me.

As he is dangerous, even to me.

Guidelines for the Guild

People, this is a warcraft related post. So if you're not in the guild, ignore it.

It's quite clear after Sunday that if we're only ever allowed to play on the hordies while everyone is present we are going to loose a lot of time, and stand around waiting for people.

So I propose the following guidelines...

1) You can cook, fish, smelt, train, sort out junk, visit the AH and craft things in your own time - no need to wait for the group.

On the other hand, making something then and there for a group member is also fine.

2) Alts are welcome - there's one already - and all alts are to be promoted to "Hair Stylist", to indicate that status. They can do almost anything except hire, fire and promote people in the guild.

2.5) Talking of hire and firing people, all main guild characters have as much authority as I can give them. While I might be the guild master, I view this more as "Chief of Paperwork" then anything else. The guild leader is not the group leader.

3) Once we've leveled up somewhat, farming materials in lower level areas will be permitted. By lower levels, I mean areas where all mobs are grey - aka XP free. I'm hoping this won't be needed - hence my alt - but....

4) The time we are going to play next MUST be in the guild MOTD, so we all know what we're doing. Please, please try and be there...with all the stuff you need to do done.

5) Some quests have a large amount of traveling involved. For example, go somewhere far, far away and give this/talk to xxx. These quests are dull in the extreme.

So I'd propose that when we get these, the group can agree to all go there in peoples own time. This doesn't apply to locations like, say, tabetha in the swamps, but places like Tanris, Rachet, Booty Bay....

Remember, we have to agree on this - if no-one asks, the group can't agree.

6) It's going to be very difficult to level up Together. Different classes have quests, as the group spreads out not all will have the same XP. So I'd propose that every 5 levels or so we have a "Check Level". We compare XP totals, and those who are below by any significant amount (say, 2 bars) are allowed to go and catch up that little bit, to keep things more or less even.

--

All of this is up for debate. If you disagree with something, tell us. I am not The Controller. These are suggestions, to try and ensure fun for all.

So, thoughts?

Canadian Money

The Canadian monetary system is very similar to the UK system in many respects.

Money has evolved a long, long way from its birthplace and purpose, all those years ago. It no longer represents things of concrete value, but abstract ideas and values. A currency grows stronger and weaker based on relative economies, financial dealings....

But thats not the point here.

*clink*

In the UK most money is held in banks, for the large part. Almost everyone has a bank account of some description - without one, being paid is damned near impossible, in any legal sense.

Here in Canada I know many people who casually walk around with 200, 300 dollars at a time. Banks arn't as essential here - cash your pay cheque, use the cash.

Even the university offered to pay me by cheque. Yep - with all the attendant paperwork.

But a word about the coins.

*clink* *clink*

They use coins almost exactly the same as american coins - up to a dollar.

No, really. 1, 5, 10 and 25 cent coins are identical in size and weight. The only way to tell them apart is the design. So much so that maybe 1% of small coinage in canada is really US money.

No one really minded when the US dollar was worth more. Or even now, when its worth less.

Odd people really. Short change them (a little) and they don't mind.

*clink* * clink * * clink*
You've got 4 dollars and 61 cents in pennies you git.

How many US ones?

Arrrgggghhhhhhh!

Halloween

This should have been posted a while ago - oh well.

Now, as you're all aware, Halloween is a festival that barely registers in the UK. If you're very, very (un)lucky you might get a few trick or treaters, watched over by anxious parents who've allowed their little darlings out to roam..

In Canada, and I'm forced to assume the USA as well, there's a little bit more fuss.

We're not talking lots of children in costumes - costumes that might well cost more then the total GDP of some small african countries. And cute they do look - if you're into cute. If, like most sane adults you just wish they were standing closer together...well, close your eyes.

But why do you want them standing closer together?

Silence Alter - or its the wardrobe for you.

More interestingly, its not just the children who dress up. A fair number of adults do as well. Now, here's the thing. Men just don't dress up. What you end up with is a variety of adult women in dresses, costumes and other unusual things.

Which isn't that bad.

But why closer together!?

Alter, I've warned you...

Anyway, the costumes can be elaborate, complicated and highly effective.

Such as this pretty little fairy...



This wasn't the only fairy. You had fairy godmothers, princesses, mini-mouse, more fairies...even a killer serving at A&W...

Now, we all know fast food will kill you, but...

Anyway, that's Halloween in Canada.

But why closer?!?!?

Because, Alter, I've only got one hand grenade left. Now Get in your WARDROBE!

He's not here - I'm FREE!

He's not here. I'm FREE!

I can say what I want, read what I want, post what I want.

I'm not stuck in the wardrobe, locked in the dark.

He can't stop me...

Go read this and this.


And now I'm going to-

*slam, click*

Ali, I'm home!

Oh, bugger. HIDE!

Time and Books

Morning all

Couple of things. First, I've changed my flight, so you won't be seeing me till January, near the end of. So Christmas isn't canceled, just del-

Delalyed? You've still got presents from last year you've not giv-
*slam*
*crash*

Delayed. Save me some fruitcake...

And second, I've once again read The Colours of Choas - if you've not read it, and you read fanstasy, go read it.

Now.

No, I won't wait while you do...its 800 pages!

And please, ignore the wardrobe. It moves all on its own.

30 Days of night? Right....

Today I strolled down to the local cinema to watch a film.

The horror film, 30 days of night.

First, a word about the plot. The concept is simple - a town in the far north of the US, which every year experiences 30 days of solid night. Vampires in the area get a little hungry.

The plot - and a lot of the basic ideas - are very solid. Interesting location, a good logical reason for isolation, even an implied reason for the existence for the town.

Most of the character work is good and the lack of CGI effects is excellent. So far, so good...

But there are two ways of building fear and terror in a horror film.

There's the easy way - cheap shocks, vast amounts of blood and guts, excessive on screen violence and the application of unremitting action, never allowing a moment for true fear.

Alternatively, there's another, better way. You build up tension. Slowly, carefully build up a sketch in the views mind. The terrible picture of fear drawn in stress, uncertainty and glimpses. Hints of the enemy, traces of evidence...

The second approach builds upon the uncertainty and fear in the views own mind - and no one can know what they fear more then the view themselves.

But alas, 30 days takes the first route - the easy one.

Ultimately the film is an acceptable horror film, but not a good one.

For a better vampire film, go watch underworld.

It is a better film.

Drug madness

Yesterday I enjoyed "The Headache from Hell" - which was lovely on my last day off before work.

The whole works - even glare from the laptop was painful. And I was out of drugs.

So down to the mall I go, avoiding those deadly rays.

Now, my pain killer of choice is paracetamol - or acetaminophen as its known here.

Now, in the UK you're limited to buying 16 tablets at a throw - or 32 in a pharmacy. This is because of the drugs repeated use in suicide attempts - and they also long ago mandated that it had to be sold in blister packs rather then in handy bottle. This is supposed to make it slightly harder and take longer - more time to regret your decision....

Anyway, I strolled into the drug store and picked up a small pack. Of 100.

Yep, thats right - enough to overdose a small family.

And I didn't even pick up the biggest pack - I've seen packs in the HUNDREDS - there were packs of 120, 200...

But the maximum daily dose for an adult is 4000mg - or 8 tablets. So I've got 12 days worth of extreme PAIN, with a few left over. Where as in the UK you can buy...2 days worth.

So you feel like your dying. You feel as if your brains are slowly dribbling out though your nose, your eyes are slowly expanding into the iron splinters of the air...and you have to walk to the shops for a little relief.

Just...don't leave a mess on the pavement.

Blogs I read

By request, here are the blogs I tend to read...be warned, the last is NOT safe for work. EVER.

http://burningourmoney.blogspot.com/ - A blog concerning government waste, excessive tax and the insanity of modern politics. Be warned, he is conservative - with a small c.

This isn't a bad thing, believing in smaller government, efficent public services and honesty from politicians - but I'm giving the warning.

http://coppersblog.blogspot.com/ - A police blog that (until recently) told of the thoughts and experiences of an unknown police officer somewhere in the UK. He's now been revealed and is moving to Canada, to a new police job. But go read the achieves.

http://nhsblogdoc.blogspot.com/ - The NHS Doc blog, written about health matters in the uk is a very unflattering view of the NHS, government targets and management madness.

http://more-to-life-than-shoes.blogspot.com/ - A often amusing blog written by a show obsessed madwomen with Distinct Views on a number of things - heels, Europe and Independence...

And finaly, http://devilskitchen.me.uk/ - WARNING - this is a swear blog, with distinct anti-labour, pro-UKIP leanings. It often has descriptions of politicians that...well, there's a post involving Allistar Darling, ky jelly, Gorden Brown and Sooty. And that's all I'm saying :)

The barbar- parents are here!

Much could be said about the parent's visit.

Washing mugs, frightening the poor, little....ok...slightly over sized cat...

But that's not the topic of the day. The topic is sin - last nights sin. And I didn't sin alone - Ali, myself and five others sinned together.

No, NOT like that Helen.

We took a friend to a pub on his 21 birthday, and bought him a drink.

Each.

Water wasn't on the menu.

After drinking we took him back to his mother, where he made a small mess.

After letting someone else (who was sober) clear up, we dragged him off to John's place for cake, music and slaughter.

The sin?

Oh yes - mine was a tequila slammer.


For someone who never drinks.

How the mighty have fallen

Last year, in the delightful company of Helen and Rob, usual over dinner, we watched "Eureka", also known as "A town called Eureka".

It was a quirky program, with odd turns and strange occurrences.

A house that spirals into depression when you try and leave it.

A funeral is held for someone. Who shortly turns up, puzzled as to why they received flowers and commiserations.

The puncturing of childhood dreams - no, those arn't real moon rocks...
If you believe that I've got a sheet of mint penny black-
Stop it....

Anyway, it was good. However...

The first season was good. But the second, 13 episodes in has had...well...maybe a dozen good moments. It's clear that the writers have been trying to drag the show in the direction of a great big, over arching plot - which doesn't work for the show.

Some shows are canceled before they're ever given a chance. Firefly, Crusade, Threshold...and others that would have been better not going to a second season.

They're killing the show by inches.

The cost...

I'm stepping out in a minute, to pick up some catfood and things.

But, before going, I looked at the uk news and saw the fuel price rises here.

Petrol prices are about a pound a litre. Which is a hell of a lot. When I started driving petrol was only 83 pence a litre. And that wasn't that long ago - only a few years. I know it was this low - I've still got the spreadsheet I used to calculate my cost per mile.

Prices didn't stay that way long, raising quickly.

But you remember the fuel blockades a few years back? Prices are a third higher now, then at the time.

Still, fuel in Canada is 1.20$. So about 60p.

I have a problem.

As many people have said before, from alcoholics anonymous to WoW Anonymous, the first step of resolving a problem - any problem - is admitting it exists.

Hi, I'm 4400 miles from home, and I have a problem.

Just the one?
Stop it you, this is my blog!

The problem today is t-shirts.

I've got many t-shirts - half olive green, the rest an assortment of non-colours. White, black, grey...but nothing bright, nothing lively.

The problem is how I acquire them.

I can count on the fingers of one hand (that's 4, not 31) the number of times in the last 3 years I've gone into a shop, browsed, searched and sought a t-shirt. Pick them up at an army base? Acquire them from running events? Taunt someone from Microsoft?

These I've done. For a free one, I'd run miles.

Today, it was about 3.1 miles, in 28 minutes.

This was not about raising money for charity - not for me. The thousand and more others might run for charity...but not me.

This wasn't about a chance to chat up pretty girls while running an easy 5k, even if there was quite a few rather cute ones. Even some b-- no, I'm not saying it Helen.

This wasn't even about training for another run - 5k is straightforwards to run. Most people could do it, if they really wanted to.

No, it was the T-Shirt.

I am 4400 miles from home, and I'll do almost anything for a free t-shirt.
----

Nb - the photo's will be here as soon as I can find a really, really small screwdriver. Otherwise we're stuck with IR.

Oh, and I'm somewhat happy that I pulled a curry back from the brink of disaster today. It was even edible.

It GROWS!

There are many things that grow.

Some growing things stop and start, shrinking and enlarging as the seasons pass. Waistlines, weights, some plants....the amount of sleep you need...


Helen, I know exactly what you were thinking. Stop it.

Other things just keep growing, damn it. It grows, and grows and grows - to the point where you have to do something about it before it drives you MAD and you start raving about the pink icing, and how it made you do those horrible things to the neighbours children.

Feeding them cookies laced with laxatives...


Anyway, the point of my post? Oh, yes.

Hair.

It grows continually, whether you like it or not.


And a few weeks ago - yes, old news, I just kept forgetting to write about it - I got it cut. Again. Twice so far this year...both voluntary....


There was however, a problem.

She was brunette, about 5 foot nothing and rather sweet. She was just starting at the place, and need some "models" to demonstrate her abilities on to the management. To prove she knew what she was doing. So could she cut and dye it, at a vastly reduced rate...

And she smiled at me.

What was I supposed to do, say no?

So, several hours later, I left the place. My hair was still there, in the most part. Huge amounts were not left littering the floor as usual.

I hadn't left it a whole year this time.

What took so long wasn't the cutting, but the colour. Hours teasing out strips, painting them with goo and wrapping them in foil, folded and folded again.

It was quite relaxing, in a insane kind of way. Not moving, 2/3 blind, just watching the blur with the pretty voice move in the mirror...

Still, what sort of colour do you think I ended with? And how much, in UK terms, do you think I paid...

(I would post a picture now, but it doesn't show up in IR.)

Porn

Today, after our run, Ali and I went shopping.

We bought some porn.

Ali buys lots more of it then me. I'm lucky if I get one piece a month. Ali....most weeks....

Not pawn, but porn.

Luke, wash your mind out with soap.
Helen, stop giggling.
Mother, take a breath. Now, take another.

There are many types of porn. This one is RUNNING porn.

The local porn sho- running room had a shoe sale on - and while we've got relatively new shoes, good for another few hundred K, another pair is a good idea. It lets you leave one pair to breath, you're not wearing the same pair two days in a row...

The only problem is the cost. A good pair of real running shoes for an overpronator like me (and a decent percentage of the rest of the population) would cost quite a bit. A couple of hundred dollars.

We bought some for 70.

We call it running porn because of the temptation to look, see, try some on, fantasize about getting a new pair...

There are worse types of porn.

So I've heard.

Robert Jordan

I know R posted a comment about Robert Jordan, but I was asleep when it happened.

Robert Jordan, author of the Wheel Of Time set - two and a half foot of my bookcase - has died.

This is no suprise, for he had been dying for a long time - since the last book was released. Which was about 2 years ago.

There's been a lot of us following the set, from the first book to the latest, each between 500 and a thousand pages. We've watched the dark, the light. The Aes Sedai who speak no word that is not true. The forsaken and the...well, we're still not sure what Moriden is.

There's hope that the book will be finished - there are large quantities of notes, tapes and manuscripts.

Death is lighter than a feather, duty heavier then a mountain

Strange pictures...

Evening all.

Courtesy of Mother, I now have my webcam here in Canada. So low resolution photo's are now a cheap and easy thing to do.

There's only one small, tiny catch.

The camera was never returned to its original state, since I converted it one sunny afternoon into a near infra-red camera. So right now, it can see in the dark (with an IR source, such as this video remote...).

It can easily pick out objects camouflaged in the visible spectrum - because it doesn't see the same light as we do. A black object can be white, a pattern of green and brown can be either white, black, or some strange pattern.


A tabby cat is still tabby though - but this makes sense. If a rodent could defeat cat concealment by shifting slightly the light spectrum they can see...they would!

But why bring this up? Well, I am going to turn it back into a real camera at some point Soon. But in the mean time, what should I photograph, in IR?

But keep it legal people.

*Edit to add photo

Must learn to party

I'm getting older.

Again.

Its a bad habit that I'm trying to give up, but it's hard. The symptoms of getting old are stressful and concerning.

You start worrying about things like...washing. And clean clothes. Worries about of getting larger (in the wrong directions), grayer (it's a lie) and less flexible (not being able to chew your own toe nails is concerning).

Still, I'm older. I'm sure I"ll get over it.

But, being older, I really should really have learnt how to party by now. For, you see, this is how I spent my birthday.

I worked from 6am in the morning till2pm, then I worked at a different company, because Ali needed a hand, from 2 till later. By the end, I was pretty tired. When Ali got home, she was pretty tired. An early night all round, to be honest.

A Caesar salad is not a birthday celebration

Still, the next day was saturday, right?
.
Well, no. Worked from 10 till 5, went home, cleaned and tided somewhat, ready for the DnD game. But...it was not to be. We were missing two players. One I'll live without...but two..can be a problem. So we went to plan B.

Plan B started with chat, and Guitar Hero 2. This was followed by a meal our, and three of us trooped down to PC Bang. A computer game place, with 50-odd well specced computers that played like a dream.,. A real dream. 1200*1024 (or something like that!) with beautiful graphics and lovely FPSs. Dozens of games.

We escaped that place.

Eventually.

At 4am on sunday morning.

A view from the gallery

Right now, I'm watching Harry Potter, film 3.

And I've got a question.

In the potter world, every wizard walks around armed. Every wizard over the age of 11 carries a wand - even if they can't use it effectively.

We've seen children inflict injuries and curses on each other, putting each other in the hospital wing. Total paralysis in book one, anyone?

Even teenagers can KILL - see the half-blood prince. Kill with little more then a few words and a gesture.

Consider - this is the most popular childrens work of our age. An essential point in the book is that all wizards are trained to defend themselves against their enemies.

My question is...why in the real world is defense forbidden? The criminal penalties for carrying a weapon are huge, and seem to be getting larger as the years go by.

It is illegal to carry anything with the intent of using it as a weapon to defend yourself. Even a paperclip.

Why?

4th Edition

As you all should know by now, 4th edition DnD has been revealed.

I say now, I am concerned about this. As I see it, there are two extremes, and a few "grey" options in between.

Option one. Its full of really cool stuff, thats going to be a vast improvement on 3.5 (No, wait, wasn't 3.5 supposed to fix 3?). It'll revolutionise gaming, and it'll be straight forwards to upgrade the existing mountains of books and guides we all have - as easy as all the third ed stuff was to convert to 3.5.


Option two. It's a calculated attempt by Wizards to extract a whole horde of money for its parent company, Hasbro, to sleep on. This horde must be amassed at all costs, by forcing the loyal gamers to replace all their existing literature.

This will be further expanded by charging a monthly amount for use of a large number of online digital *things*, nature unknown. (Anyone else thinking steady profit stream here?)

Anyway, this is just me and my cynical soul's slightly sad summery. Go look it up on the wizards site...

Battle report

So, the DnD game. How did it go? Is Ali still speaking to me?

Well...not badly. To begin with, you had the usual paperwork fun - this quibble about points, "But I really want a...". "My concept needs a...".

You know who you are...

Closely followed by the "Is that legal?" - Yes, if you look at chapter xxx...Int of 20 should not be legal at level one...even if it costs that much. And the druid cheese....

Still, finally, we were off! After one of the players delcared he didn't like to be led. Well, ok. There's many ways to lead - and to pull players along. Greed is one of them...

Still, off they go into the wastes - happy in their little, profitable mission to find out what's happening at a local mithril mine. Secure in the knowledge they'll be bringing back pounds of the stuff.....*snigger*

First they run into the remnants of the last shipment from the mine. 200-odd pounds of silver, and 10 of mithril. You could see the dollar signs in their eyes. But how are you going to carry it, asks the DM? "We load it onto the Camel.

Blast. Camels can carry about a tonne, according to game rules. Blast. I think the camel might be the first to die....

Still, we finally end up in the mine, and we reach the First Door. Quite an impressive door, really, and much work had gone into making the appropriate. Definitely the sort of door that a wizard would consider to be protection from those he feared.

And the party walked through it. Literally, through it. It should have been impossible...

Still, the second door. A barrier I would have considered a five minute problem - maybe 10. Everyone in the group is quite smart. Degrees, that sort of thing.

It doesn't help.

Thirty minutes later, of puzzle and toil. Of asking for the Dm for further description
- and being led in the completely wrong direction. Some nice ideas from the players though...

Still, next week - well, saturday. "The black staff" - the point I wanted them to reach last week!

And now for a word

And for those interested, I'm running a DnD game on saturday, with Ali in it, even though ALL my books are....um....4400 miles away.

This could be interesting...

Passing through....excel...

Evening all

Just a quick word, for your amusement.

Ali and I are quite bright, as people go. We've both got multiple degrees - no really, we have! Both of us are quite at home with technical things, rules and complexity.

So, the other day, we were having a quiet evening in. And....we ended up doing things. In Excel.

What the problem we worked on was, isn't really important. But we came up with a solution, with many laughs on route. But I want you to imagine, if you will, a guy and a girl not watching a film. Or reading, or talking, like normal people....but spreadsheeting.

Even then, we couldn't agree. We came up with two solutions - mine and hers. Hers was simple, and read something like "If x > 8, then the answer is x-8. Otherwise it's 0". Mine was a little more complicated. y= 0.5 (x-8) + 0.5 ( Square root of ((x-8)(x-8))).

My point?

I'm not sure. But we found it hilarious.

What do you mean, sleep to much?

Well, lets see. Whats happened over the last month.

I've not been asleep this entire time - but I have been a little busy. There's lots of news, even if your not getting it all tonight.

Its nearly midnight already...

Ok, well...this post....this post is about a cat. No, not about a boy - that's a film. This is about a cat. This cat...

This cat is called Jinks.

We aquired her from a friend of Ali's - someone she knew from her previous stay in Canada. Something of a cat person, the couple aquired Jinks as a stray, attempting to save her from...a life on the streets. In thirty degree sunshine, glorious weather.

To save her, and keep her in a house, without mice to chase, sun to lounge in....

Anyway, she was rescued. However, no good deed goes unpunished - and so, Jinks did not get on with the couple's current...guests. Their current cats took something of a dislike to Jinks, who was apparently teratorial and slightly nasty.

So, one day, Ali drops by while I'm working to tell me we have a cat. Wh00t.

However, our ownership started with a crisis. The name, Jinks. It was our firm, considered opinion was that calling an animal "Jinks" is much like calling it lucky. Such a name calls out to the furies, Erinyes, to come forth and Slay the aforementioned beast.

This follows that same priniciple - if you build a ship, declare it unsinkable and call it Titanic IT WILL SINK. Call an animal Lucky, or Jinks....

Still, we had to find a name. We searched, high and low. We looked in the usual places - the past, literature....we consulted friends and locals. We sought answers in the depths of the Monstrous Manual - well, I did. Ghaele is a lovely name.

No, really.

Still, after weeks of searching, we agreed on...

...well....

...nothing.

So Jinks she remains.

Now, we wait.

I'm tired

Morning all, I'm tired.

On the bright side, I'm no longer actually ill - the problem is having three jobs.

Three, I hear you cry?

Well, upto now I only had two - the second being helping Alison out with mrs vanelli's, which she runs. I've only done 36 hours there in the last 2 weeks...

I've now got a third job - programming a simulation type job with neural nets and things. Only 12 hours a week, but it WILL be interesting, could end up with interesting papers to publish...

Beyond all that, I still would like the occasional day off. Today won't be one, as I'm needed at mrs vanelli's, probably.

Just waiting for a phonecall....

Freedom!

I've got nothing against the Scots.

Ok, thats a lie. I've got one thing against the scots - and that's their attitude towards the English (ie, me) and their obsession with Freeeeedom!.

This obsession with freedom and the "tyranny" of the English has gone on for a very, very long time. Since the formation of the union, in fact. So why did we unite?

Well, a faction in the scottish parliament of the time forced it through - because those prudent scots at money problems.

At the time of the Act of Union, in 1707, Scotland had just suffered the collapse of the Darien Scheme - an attempt to create a trading colony linking east and west. As it failed, it took between half and a third of the Scottish Economy with it. While scotland may not have been bankrupt...it was close.

With the Act came £398,085 of aid - a fortune at the time.

So my proposal is simple - if Scotland, through its own resources, pays back this sum (increased in line to an equivalent modern amount) then we let them go.

But that's the catch - we bought Scotland for (lets call it) £400,000 300 years ago.

So if we said that inflation was...5% - which is being kind - for 300 years, that would be...

1.05 to the power of 300 times 400,000. That's compound interest, for those paying attention.

So that is £909,598,451,440. That's what scotland was worth, and what England paid for it, in modern money.

Thats the price of freedom...

I'm ill

Its been three days, and I'm sick and tired of it - literaly.

So I'm going to share the only 2 good jokes I've heard in weeks. Be warned, the second is rather long.

Joke One:

What's the difference between a terrorist and a redhead?

You can negotiate with terrorists...

Joke Two - more list really.

Once upon a time, there was a SPC Schwarz stationed with the Army in the Balkans. SPC Schwarz was either very clever or very bored; but probably both, since he managed to attempt or be warned about 213 things he wasn't allowed to do. He collected those things into a hillarious list and posted them to the web.

1. Not allowed to watch Southpark when I'm supposed to be working.
2. My proper military title is 'Specialist Schwarz' not 'Princess Anastasia'.
3. Not allowed to threaten anyone with black magic.
4. Not allowed to challenge anyone's disbelief of black magic by asking for hair.
5. Not allowed to get silicone breast implants.
6. Not allowed to play 'Pulp Fiction' with a suction-cup dart pistol and any officer.
7. Not allowed to add 'In accordance with the prophesy' to the end of answers I give to a question an officer asks me.
8. Not allowed to add pictures of officers I don't like to War Criminal posters.
9. Not allowed to title any product 'Get Over it'.
10. Not allowed to purchase anyone's soul on Government time.
11. Not allowed to join the communist party.
12. Not allowed to join any militia.
13. Not allowed to form any militia.
14. Not allowed out of my office when the president visited Sarajevo.
15. Not allowed to train adopted stray dogs to 'Sic Brass!'
16. Must get a haircut even if it tampers with my 'Sampson like powers'.
17. God may not contradict any of my orders.
18. May no longer perform my now (in)famous 'Barbie Girl Dance' while on duty.
19. May not call any officers immoral, untrustworthy, lying, slime, even if I'm right.
20. Must not taunt the French any more.
21. Must attempt to not antagonize SAS.
22. Must never call an SAS a 'Wanker'.
23. Must never ask anyone who outranks me if they've been smoking crack.
24. Must not tell any officer that I am smarter than they are, especially if it's true.
25. Never confuse a Dutch soldier for a French one.
26. Never tell a German soldier that 'We kicked your ass in World War 2!'
27. Don't tell Princess Di jokes in front of the paras (British Airborne).
28. Don't take the batteries out of the other soldiers alarm clocks (Even if they do hit snooze about forty times).
29. The Irish MPs are not after 'Me frosted lucky charms'.
30. Not allowed to wake an Non-Commissioned Officer by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash.
31. Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions.
32. Not allowed to let sock puppets take command of my post.
33. Not allowed to chew gum at formation, unless I brought enough for everybody.
34. (Next day) Not allowed to chew gum at formation even if I *did* bring enough for everybody.
35. Not allowed to sing 'High Speed Dirt' by Megadeth during airborne operations. ('See the earth below/Soon to make a crater/Blue sky, black death, I'm off to meet my maker')
36. Can't have flashbacks to wars I was not in. (The Spanish-American War isn't over).
37. Our medic is called 'Sgt Larwasa', not 'Dr. Feelgood'.
38. Our supply Sgt is 'Sgt Watkins' not 'Sugar Daddy'.
39. Not allowed to ask for the day off due to religious purposes, on the basis that the world is going to end, more than once.
40. I do not have super-powers.
41. 'Keep on Trucking' is *not* a psychological warfare message.
42. Not allowed to attempt to appeal to mankind's baser instincts in recruitment posters.
43. Camouflage body paint is not a uniform.
44. I am not the atheist chaplain.
45. I am not allowed to 'Go to Bragg boulevard and shake daddies little money maker for twenties stuffed into my undies'.
46. I am not authorized to fire officers.
47. I am not a citizen of Texas, and those other, forty-nine, lesser states.
48. I may not use public masturbation as a tool to demonstrate a flaw in a command decision.
49. Not allowed to trade military equipment for 'magic beans'.
50. Not allowed to sell magic beans during duty hours.
51. Not allowed to quote 'Dr Seuss' on military operations.
52. Not allowed to yell 'Take that Cobra' at the rifle range.
53. Not allowed to quote 'Full Metal Jacket ' at the rifle range.
54. 'Napalm sticks to kids' is *not* a motivational phrase.
55. An order to 'Put Kiwi on my boots' does *not* involve fruit.
56. An order to 'Make my Boots black and shiny' does not involve electrical tape.
57. The proper response to a lawful order is not 'Why?'
58. The following words and phrases may not be used in a cadence- Budding sexuality, necrophilia, I hate everyone in this formation and wish they were dead, sexual lubrication, black earth mother, all Marines are latent homosexuals, Tantric yoga, Gotterdammerung, Korean hooker, Eskimo Nell, we've all got jackboots now, slut puppy, or any references to squid.
59. May not make posters depicting the leadership failings of my chain of command.
60. ‘The Giant Space Ants' are not at the top of my chain of command.
61. If one soldier has a 2nd Lt bar on his uniform, and I have an E-4 on mine It means he outranks me. It does not mean ‘I have been promoted three more times than you'.
62. It is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, no longer applies to Specialist Schwarz.
63. Command decisions do *not* need to be ratified by a 2/3 majority.
64. Inflatable novelties do *not* entitle me to BAQ or Separation pay.
65. There are no evil clowns living under my bed.
66. There is no ‘Anti-Mime' campaign in Bosnia.
67. I am not the Psychological Warfare Mascot.
68. I may not line my helmet with tin foil to ‘Block out the space mind control lasers'.
69. May not pretend to be a facist stormtrooper, while on duty.
70. I am not authorized to prescribe any form of medication.
71. I must not flaunt my deviances in front of my chain of command.
72. May not wear gimp mask while on duty.
73. No military functions are to be performed ‘Skyclad'.
74. Woad is not camouflage makeup.
75. May not conduct psychological experiments on my chain of command.
76. "Teddy Bear, Teddy bear, turn around" is *not* a cadence.
77. The MP checkpoint is not an Imperial Stormtrooper roadblock, so I should not tell them "You don't need to see my identification, these are not the droids you are looking for."
78. I may not call block my chain of command.
79. I am neither the king nor queen of cheese.
80. Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.
81. May not bring a drag queen to the battalion formal dance.
82. May not form any press gangs.
83. Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with "I recently had an experience I just had to write you about...."
84. Must not use military vehicles to ‘Squish' things.
85. Not allowed to make any Psychological Warfare products depicting the infamous Ft. Bragg sniper incident.
86. May not challenge anyone in my chain of command to the ‘field of honor'.
87. If the thought of something makes me giggle for longer than 15 seconds, I am to assume that I am not allowed to do it.
88. Must not refer to 1st Sgt as ‘Mom'.
89. Must not refer to the Commander as ‘Dad'.
90. Inflatable sheep do *not* need to be displayed during a room inspection.
91. I am not authorized to initiate Jihad.
92. When asked to give a few words at a military ceremony ‘Romper Bomper Stomper Boo' is probably not appropriate.
93. Nerve gas is not funny.
94. Crucifixes do not ward off officers, and I should not test that.
95. I am not in need of a more suitable host body.
96. ‘Redneck Zombies' is not a military training aid.
97. Gozer does not dwell in my refrigerator.
98. The proper response to a chemical weapon attack is not ‘Tell my chain of command what I really think about them, and then poke holes in their masks.'
99. A smiley face is not used to mark a minefield.
100. Claymore mines are not filled with yummy candy, and it is wrong to tell new soldiers that they are.
101. I am not allowed to mount a bayonet on a crew-served weapon.
102. Rodents are not entitled to burial with full military honors, even if they are "casualties of war".
103. My commander is not old enough to have fought in the civil war, and I should stop implying that he did.
104. Vodka, green food coloring, and a ‘Cool Mint’ Listerine® bottle is not a good combination.
105. I am not allowed to bum cigarettes off of anyone under twelve.
106. I may not trade my rifle for any of the following: Cigarettes, booze, sexual favors, Kalishnikovs, Soviet Armored vehicles, small children, or bootleg CD’s.
107. Must not mock command decisions in front of the press.
108. Should not taunt members of the press, even if they are really fat, exceptionally stupid, and working for UPI.
109. I am not authorized to change national policy in Eastern Europe.
110. Never, ever, attempt to correct a Green Beret officer about anything.
111. I am not qualified to operate any US, German, Polish, or Russian Armored vehicles.
112. When saluting a ‘leg’ officer, an appropriate greeting is not "Airborne leads the wa- oh...sorry sir".
113. There is absolutely no need to emulate the people from ‘Full Monty’ every time I hear the song "Hot Stuff".
114. I cannot trade my CO to the Russians.
115. I should not speculate on the penis size of anyone who outranks me.
116. Crucifying mice - bad idea.
117. Must not use government equipment to bootleg pornography.
118. Burn pits for classified material are not revel fires - therefore it is wrong to dance naked around them.
119. I cannot arrest children for being rude.
120. An EO briefing is probably not the best place to unveil my newest off color joke.
121. I should not use government resources to ‘waterproof’ dirty magazines.
122. Radioactive material should not be stored in the barracks.
123. I should not teach other soldiers to say offensive and crude things in Albanian, under the guise of teaching them how to say potentially useful phrases.
124. Two drink limit does not mean first and last.
125. Two drink limit does not mean two kinds of drinks.
126. Two drink limit does not mean the drinks can be as large as I like.
127. ‘No Drinking Of Alcoholic Beverages’ does not imply that a Jack Daniel’s® IV is acceptable.
128. "Shpadoinkle" is not a real word.
129. The Microsoft® ‘Dancing Paperclip’ is not authorized to countermand any orders.
130. ‘I’m drunk’ is a bad answer to any question posed by my commander.
131. No dancing in the turret. This especially applies in conjunction with rule #113.
132. The loudspeaker system is not a forum to voice my ideas.
133. The loudspeaker system is not to be used to replace the radio.
134. The loudspeaker system is not to be used to broadcast the soundtrack to a porno movie.
135. An order to put polish on my boots means the whole boot.
136. Shouting ‘Let’s do the village! Let’s do the whole fucking village!’ while out on a mission is bad.
137. Should not show up at the front gate wearing part of a Russian uniform, messily drunk.
138. Even if my commander did it.
139. Must not teach interpreters how to make "MRE" bombs.
140. I am not authorized to sell mineral rights.
141. Not allowed to use a broadsword to disprove ‘The Pen is Mightier than the sword’.
142. 'Calvin-Ball' is not authorized PT.
143. I do not need to keep a 'range card' by my window.
144. 'K-Pot, LBE, and a thin coat of Break-free' is not an authorized uniform.
145. I should not drink three quarts of blue food coloring before a urine test.
146. Nor should I drink three quarts of red food coloring, and scream during the same.
147. I should not threaten suicide with pop rocks and Coke®.
148. Putting red 'Mike and Ike's'® into a prescription medicine bottle, and then eating them all in a formation is not funny.
149. Must not create new DOD forms, then insist they be filled out.
150. On Sports Day PT, a wedgie is not considered a legal tackle.
151. The proper way to report to my Commander is 'Specialist Schwarz, reporting as ordered, Sir' not 'You can't prove a thing!'
152. The following items do not exist: Keys to the Drop Zone, A box of grid squares, blinker fluid, winter air for tires, canopy lights, or Chem-Light® batteries.
153. I should not assign new privates to 'guard the flight line'.
154. Shouldn't treat 'piss-bottles' with extra-strength icy hot.
155. Teaching Albanian children to taunt other soldiers is not nice.
156. I will no longer perform 'lap-dances' while in uniform.
157. If I take the uniform off, in the course of the lap-dance, it still counts.
158. The revolution is not now.
159. When detained by MP's, I do not have a right to a strip search.
160. No part of the military uniform is edible.
161. Bodychecking General officers is not a good idea.
162. Past lives have absolutely no effect on the chain of command.
163. Take that hat off.
164. There is no such thing as a were-virgin.
165. I do not get 'that time of month'.
166. No, the pants are not optional.
167. Not allowed to operate a business out of the barracks.
168. Especially not a pornographic movie studio.
169. Not even if they *are* 'especially patriotic films'.
170. Not allowed to 'defect' to OPFOR during training missions.
171. On training missions, try not to shoot down the General's helicopter.
172. 'A full magazine and some privacy' is not the way to help a potential suicide.
173. I am not allowed to create new levels of security clearance.
174. Furby ® is not allowed into classified areas. (I swear to the gods, I did not make that up, it's actually DOD policy).
175. We do not 'charge into battle, naked, like the Celts'.
176. Any device that can crawl across the table on medium, does not need to be brought into the office.
177. I am not to refer to a formation as 'the boxy rectangle thingie'.
178. I am not 'A lesbian trapped in a man's body'.
179. On Army documents, my race is not 'Other'.
180. Nor is it 'Secretariat, in the third'.
181. Pokémon® trainer is not an MOS.
182. There is no FM for 'wall-to-wall counseling'.
183. My chain of command has neither the time, nor the inclination to hear about what I did with six boxes of Fruit Roll-Ups®.
184. When operating a military vehicle I may *not* attempt something 'I saw in a cartoon'.
185. My name is not a killing word.
186. I am not the Emperor of anything.
187. Must not taunt officers in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, with cigarettes.
188. May not challenge officers to 'Meet me on the field of honor, at dawn'.
189. Do not dare SERE graduates to eat bugs. They will always do it.
190. Must not make s'mores while on guard duty.
191. Our Humvees cannot be assembled into a giant battle-robot.
192. The proper response to a briefing is not 'That's what you think'.
193. The Masons, and Gray Aliens are not in our chain of command.
194. Shouldn't take incriminating photos of my chain of command.
195. Shouldn't use Photoshop® to create incriminating photos of my chain of command.
196. I am not allowed to give tattoos.
197. I am not allowed to sing 'Henry the VIII I am' until verse 68 ever again.
198. Not allowed to lead a 'Coup' during training missions.
199. I should not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.
200. My chain of command is not interested in why I 'just happen' to have a kilt, an inflatable sheep, and a box of rubber bands in the back of my car.
201. Must not valiantly push officers onto hand grenades to save the squad.
202. Despite the confusing similarity in the names, the "Safety Dance" and the "Safety Briefing" are never to be combined.
203. 'To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys" is a bad long term goal to give the re-enlistment NCO.
204. NEVER nail a stuffed bunny to a cross and put it up in front of the Battalion Headquarters sign as an "Easter Desecration."
205. Don't write up false gigs on a HMMWV PMCS. ("Broken clutch pedal", "Number three turbine has frequent flame-outs", "flux capacitor emits loud whine when engaged")
206. Not allowed to get shot.
207. The Chicken and Rice MRE is *not* a personal lubricant. (Skippy wanted this noted for the record that this is not something he has ever attempted or considered! It was something we heard at dinner on 22 September 2001 and it was just so obscene it had to go here.)
208. Not allowed to play into the deluded fantasies of the civilians who are "hearing conversations" from the NSA, FBI, CIA and KGB due to the microchip the aliens implanted in their brain.
209. An airsickness bag is to be used for airsickness *only*. (Also not a Skippy-ism...this was the same dinner.)
210. Must not make T-shirts up depicting a pig with the writing "Eat Pork or Die" in Arabic to bring as civilian attire when preparing to deploy to a primarily Muslim country.
211. Don't ask LTC Steele to sign my copy of Blackhawk Down.
212. Must not go on nine deployments in six years that require a security clearance that I don't have, even if the Army tells me repeatedly that I have one and I have no reason to question them.
213. Do not convince NCO's that their razorbumps are the result of microscopic parasites.

Anyone care to guess my favourite?

Charities to hate - part two

Now, by now I hope you've all read the post, and the news story.

You're wondering why I dislike it so much. It's for the children, right?

No, it's not about children, or africa, or even poverty and death. Its about influence.

This is a national charity, using funds you the people have given it to manipulate and guilt trip the public and the government.

Imagine you were approached by a national charity and asked to sign a bit of paper saying "Children dying is bad". Would you hesitiate? Even a second?

Then using those bits of paper - representing a tiny part of the population - to influence a politican. While politicians are open to manipulation....we then move onto the aims.

We're not talking about children in the uk. The charity is trying to get the government to pay for aid.

Lets rephrase. They want the governemnt to demand from you more money, complete with threat of force (aka tax) or imprisonment. This money is not to improve your life, or that of your neighbours, or even their children.

No.

It's to be spent on a continent wide project to help children. Ok, well, its for the children. But...no.

This money won't be spent directly on children, but will instead be channeled though the most corrupt and inefficient set of governments on the PLANET.

Take for example, Zimbabwe. Once the breadbasket of africa, its now a basket case. Life expectancy has almost halved and the economy is in a nosedive. Or take Sudan, and the little genocide that's been continuing with tacit govenment support for...years.

And they want to take more money from the tax payer to channel it to these regimes, when the NHS is in a shambolic state. Atlest if we gave the money to the NHS we could track where it goes - unlike the black hole of africa.

Thats one reason to dislike a charity. I can think of more...

Things that kill plans

There are many things that can kill your plans for a day.

The weather, current events, toilet seats falling from the sky...

Todays was a call from Ali, asking me to head down the mall to help her. Five hours later, I'm back, hot, tired, and I've still got a graduation "do" to goto.

Yay.

Unplanned evening

Had a lovely evening last night - completely unplanned.

After springing an unexpected dinner on Alison on monday, she returned the favour last night. On returning from a staff meeting (around, well, 7pm) she rustled up a lovely cajun fish, with rice and stir fried veg. Followed by a bottle of wing and truely random conversation - the sort we excell at, moving from topic to topic. Then jumping back 4 threads and moving off in a completely different direction.

A classic example - from cornflakes to solar stills, in about 4 easy jumps. Completely logical, easy steps that you wouldn't blink at, leading us to MADNESS!

Talked till midnight, which made getting up at 5am for work a distinct challenge.

Will finish off the save the children post tomorrow...

Another charity to stop supporting.

As many of you may have guessed, I'm not a great fan of charities.

I want to make my position clear first. Its not acts of charity, or small good works...even large ones.

Many charities do fine work. Small ones, big ones - St John Ambulance, the scouts, your local homeless shelter...there's hundreds doing very good work with little money. Pennies really, compared to other, bigger charities.

But what would take the govenment, or big organisations a fortune to achieve, they do with a shoestring - because they believe. Scratch a charity worker - a real one - and you find someone with faith, hope and dreams.

On the other hand, there are OTHER charities. I could name quiet a few - but I'm not going to. Lets talk about one. A charity that many would consider beyond reproach.

Save the children.

But before I condemn them, I want you to think about this article, posted below, and then tell me - why are they unsupportable?

LONDON (Reuters) - Gordon Browns across Britain are calling for leaders of rich nations to help African countries abolish healthcare fees when the G8 meets in Germany next month.

In a publicity stunt, charity Save the Children has dispatched a car to travel round the country and find 840 people with the same name as the next prime minister.

Save the Children is campaigning for the G8 to pay for the abolition of healthcare fees in Africa and hopes by getting all the Gordon Browns in Britain to sign up, it might influence the Brown in government.

Link

Hot Fuzz

This week, Alison suggested we may want to go see the British film, Hot Fuzz.

Wanting to keep all my limbs attached and whole, I agreed.

I really can't recommend this film highly enough - funny in the way that Hollywood can never be. Parady beyond compare. Plot twists you;ll never believe.

And a main character who just wants to water his peace lilly, quietly.

Its quality - I'll be buying it. And you know what I'm like!

More to life then...shoes?

Lots to blog about, so hope to post something daily for a while.

Now, old news. A few weeks ago, Ali and I bought some real trainers. I say trainers, I mean running shoes you can wear elsewhere. Definitly not cheap - only about half uk cost.

Now, why is this bloggable?

For the last 24 years or so, I've considered shoes and other footware a necessary evil. At most, I'd spend £20 on trainers, because...well...all you do is walk around in them. (And go exercising, and everything else..)

These, however, are different. Walking in them is a dream - compared to my boots (other footware of choice) I'm floating. Maybe 2 inches above the ground.

Light, airy, very cool in both the physical and fashion sense.

So I imagine my real point here is "You get what you pay for". Cheap shoes are fine...uf you don't want to Use them. Probably the same can be said for most things.

And when it comes to the gym (yep, I signed away my soul and joined one here) they make running a dream - though Alison has been less then pleased on occasion, mainly becaue I just keep running.

And running.

She'll finish then have to wait for me, then wait for me while I pull myself back together after running...

Status update

Because I don't have anywhere nearly enough phone time to call everyone I need to, here's whats up.

Well, we've moved. Was a bit of a challenge, and the jury is still out on whether the building is better. However, it has some very distinct upsides.

For a start, its a 35 minute walk to work - more or less. Rather then a 30 minute walk to the bus stop to catch the bus to get there.

And second, we've got our own cable package. Which means we're paying much less then we were, because there's no upstairs with a hugely expensive, call the world for free telephone package - which we can't use.

Thirdly, upstairs can't be creditbly compared with Rottweilers. For example, on the monday night, Richard and I got back from Banff. Alison goes up to find out whats happening, and there is a complete change of face. From "You've got to be out on sunday" to "Do you want to come up and have a beer".

No, really.

Even rottweilers arn't that bad.

Lets see...am now on a stable shift pattern - with a catch. I start at 6am 3 days a week. And for those who doubt me, have a little faith. Upside is I tend to finish at 2pm :)

More updates later....last nights doctor who just finished...aquiring...so am slightly distracted....

Types of friends

Please note, this was written on the 7th - and stored till I had net access again. (Online or flatline).

While chatting today with a girl - aka Bella, below - we eventualy showed each other our respective blogs, facebooks and the like. This led to that old blog entry on hugs in public.

She objected to the limited rules I proposed - saying that one of her friends hugged her. A little more questioning revealed that he was infact her best friend's boyfriend.

My description of "So he's safe, owned and harmless" was denied, briefly. Till she admited that this might be true. We then sidetracked onto types of friends - but we couldn't make a very long list.

-People from work
-People you've dated
-Friends (of other friends)

Anyone have any suggestions?

Meeting the neighbours

Well, some news.

Richard turned up, as planed (+/- a slight detour...). In the end, we drove down to Banff - the rocky mountains. Well, hills. Don't let the the Canadians know they're not hills....

Certainly a long drive here. A 200km detour because of 25km of road being closed...

Anyway, we're staying in the hostel there for a few days, till we get back and have to move everything to the new place. Its a nice enough place - we're sharing the room with two people. The first is....lets call her Belle. A lovely, pretty Canadian girl (Mother, NO!) who's cheerfully, talkative - in all, a pleasure. She's even letting me borrow her laptop :D

I wonder if we can take her home...

The other....is American. Thirty plus, and also talkative. Something of an environmentalist, with Views, Issues and determined to share them. The only catch is me.

I may not have done physics at uni, but I know a little. Enough to debate the issues - and drag in facts and figures. You know me. Imagine :)

Offline

Offline for a wee or three while moving.

Can't be helped.

Bread and circus

Two things for people today.

The first is bread. No, really. Bread.

In England, bread is a savoury foodstuff, that can be cooked in a variaty of ways. Toast it, make it into puddings...the list goes on. The important point is that most bread is, if not sour, certainly not filled with sugar.

In Canada...well, its slightly different. The local white bread is full of sugar. It's so sweet that you can toast it and eat it on its own. Throw in rasins and you'd have a good snack type dessert. You can even buy rasin bread in the supermarket!

Its got to the point where we've started buying "sour dough" bread from the local baker. The down side is it tastes lovely. And it gets eaten in days. Sometimes, hours.

And now the circus.

As I type, the local elections in England, the scottish and welsh assemblies are being counted. Power is changing hands, from one group to another. But this isn't the general election.

In three weeks the media will have moved on. Lets be honest - by next weeks end the local elections will be old news. The local govenment and town councils control a huge amount of the UKs spending - but no one seems to care.

Unlike the house of commons, there is no great payoff for being a councilor. But these are the people that control your planning permission, regulate your rubbish collection and determine who goes to which schools.

And did you vote?

I am not an angry person

I'm not angry. I can't stay angry with someone for more than an hour or two. I've never got the knack.

So little in the way of grudges or unpleasantness - unless the people involved make a prolonged attempt to annoy me. Six moths of annoyance starts to make me angry.

In four days, since Alison went back to the UK for a few days, them upstairs have made me angry. I know Ali and I are moving out...but shouldn't you atleast be civil?

For example, I lost net access for over an hour, as they faffed about installing a new wireless router. How they can afford it, I don't know. (More on this in a few days). But do they ask the one person they know who actualy has worked with wireless? Do they even know how to install it?

Of course not.

The result is a setup that can be hijacked from the far side of the world. All you need is their IP address. They didn't even put a password on it.

Would it be wrong to disable it?

A little chart

Following that long rant, I knocked up a bit of a chart. Stolen shamelessly from the Adam Smith Institute (to whom all cudos must go) I've coloured it in a little, to make my point.

In red are labour govenements, in blue are conservative ones. Now, boundary years are a bit iffy, because...well...if govenment changes midyear, what colour is the year?

What this chart shows is the say of the year when you stop paying all your earnings to the taxman, and start keeping it yourself.

What does it show? It shows me that, overall, with the exception of Marget Thatcher the conservatives tend to take less money off you. And even in her case....well, its debateable now, 25 years later, if she did the right thing.

Labour, on the other hand, don't seem to do so well.

Not paying tax

As asked, here is MY ways of getting past Mr Brown's many tax rises. This isn't a complete list, but I'm sure you'll get the general idea...

First, we must start with the Demon - Drink!

Being a Scotsman and a Prudent, Hard Worker - no, really. Go listen to his speaches. He maintained the tax and further increased it on alcohol, beer, wine and spirits. Despite this not being very scottish. See here.

Second, travel. Our Mr Brown, he's not very supportive of travel. You probably heard about the increases in flight taxes last budget - and how they would effect "The average family" more then they would business people or the rich. Which is true - £80 pounds more for a family holiday will hurt, when you consider that the flights are pennies. The aircraft will still fly - half empty or not - so why not flog empty tickets off at the last minute?

But no, it gets worse. He increased the fuel duty for road vehicles in 2004. He even increased the tax on red - aka farming - desiel. Yep, lets tax the farmer for not doing things the old fashioned, hardworking way - by hand. Its not like agriculture isn't dying in the UK.

Lets make the farmer pay more to cart his onions to market. Great idea.

This of course, isn't very scottish, because right now he's not in scotland. Maybe he should travel back to his constituancy, and becauses he's so anti-travel, STAY THERE.

But the rest of us had better not travel. Or buy anything made more than walking distance away - because he keeps taxing.

Thirdly....being careful.

A Prudent man takes insurance out on his car, house, perhaps his job and his health. You've all seen the adverts. Well, this Prudent Mr Brown increased the tax on this prudent insurance. In 1997 and 1999. Talk about being Mr Prudent.

And while we're on the subject, I'm not even going to touch the raid on pensions - possibly up to 100 BILLION POUNDS of prudence...taken. To balence his books, and buy another election. Note to self: don't invest in a pension. Invest elsewhere, just as much, and treat it as a pension. Harder for him to get.

Forth...and last for today.

Once upon a time, if you (or a company) invested well, made your profits and paid your taxes, you could use reinvestment relief. It allowed you to plow your profits back into the economy, making you more money and giving to the country more jobs. It helped keep investiment in the UK, going around in a virtuous cycle.

In 1998, it was...well, abolished. So you might as well just not bother reinvesting your hard work in the UK. You'd be taxed on it like everything else.

Fifth - ok, I said there was only four. I lied.

Fifth, don't be well off - or even average. Mr Brown has been very clever, increasing his tax grabs with a very crafty dodge. Every person in the UK is allowed to earn so much money a year which will never be taxed. This is your allowence (yes, more complex names for it exist. Don't go there.)

In the past, every year it was increased in line with inflation - so that the value always remained the same, year on year. Mr Brown stopped this.

Inflation is the natural tendancy of prices to increase - just like your (grand)parents told you. Things were cheaper in the past. One pound will buy less, every year. While the reverse can happen...its a really, really BAD thing.

What does this mean? Every year, as the hard working peasants and the peons earned that little bit extra to feather their nests more of their earnings would be taxed. The numbers would always look the same - I said it was crafty, didn't I? - but the percentage of tax they paid would always increase.

The hard worker could watch his earning grow in line with inflation - and be able to buy less, and less and even less.
--

Seem to have lost the "saving money" part . But if a tax change allowed you to save money, wouldn't it be pointless?

How do you separate a pirate from his treasure?

In the current Exalted game, in Canada, we have a very mixed party group. We have an evangelical preacher, who converts the unfaithful. We've got a horse nomad, more well read then Plato and probably better with a lance. Then there's me, a healer looking for a cause.

A very quiet healer, who didn't put himself forwards, trying to understand how the game works. Seeking the real motivations of the players, the meaning of the rules...to the point where the GM was worried I was too quiet. And possibly not enjoying the game.

In the other corner we have Xmond, the pirate. Though out the time we've played, there has been constant pilfering, thieving and downright grief caused by these wilful depredations. Powerful artefacts taken from important people - people who we need, like the person who gave us our boat. (Well, ship. First age artefact capable of levelling a large village. Boat.)

This constant though mostly good natured) plundering aggravates sometimes, as it draws much attention, hinders other goals and burns time on a non-essential point, that leaves the rest if the group twiddling their thumbs. So I decided to do something about it.

But how do you separate a pirate from his treasure?

Do you attack? Well, he's a pirate. With a pirate crew. Which would just take Forever to chew my way though. And besides, he's got a semi-immortal parrot that can drag a man into the air and drop him from a height.

Yes, semi-immortal. Don't ask.

We could...call the city watch onto him. But then they'd find out he's exalted. AKA Anathema - about as popular as an arsonist at a fire-fighters convention. Hunted to the death for the last thousand years or so.

And if he's exalted, what about his friends? The Wild Hunt is distracted as of late, but its still not to make big waves...

I could steal it back, and return it to its rightful owners. But while I am of the night caste (a thing which raises no few eyebrows. A healer who can disappear at a whim...) I couldn't steal a candy from a baby. Certainly not from a skilled pirate.

Perhaps we could ask him for them? The spoils collected over weeks of effort, from a dozen places? Acquired against the will of the party, assorted owners and the DMs best efforts.

Unlike the weapons of a grammerton cleric - or his pants - asking for them is not the way to go.

Or...or...I'm a healer. And he's a pirate. Hmmm.

So I wait, till we run into another circle (aka party) of Exalted. Meet "Crow the Boy", another thief after Xmond heart. A little ten year old girl, who would steal your heart, wallet and socks before you even noticed she wasn't a boy, as her name proclaimed.

And alas, suffering from a plague we had encountered before. Not only her, but most of the children of the gutter inhabiting the city of Nexus.

So imagine the scene, after Xmond spent the day with her, robbing hard the richest merchants they could fined. Retiring after a hard days looting to the inn belonging to Opulent Dragon, Crow's guardian and barmaid.

Think, if you can, of the bewilderment and puzzlement of Xmond's player, as the conversation begins.

Me: Its so wasteful, and tragic.
Xmond: Huh?
Me:
Xmond: What??
Me: And you've shown her such remarkable kindness. Such a waste.
Xmond: How? When?
Me: Why, Crow of course. You know she's dying...

As the room goes silent, both the other players and our imaginary bar room. Crow the boy breaks into tears, hiding in Opulent Dragon's petticoat, bawling her eyes out. Opulent Dragon glaring at all, me most of all.

Onwards, the snowball that starts an avalanche falls.

...of course its treatable, but pointless to try. Pointless? Why, yes of course - she'd be re-infected by the gutter children, for whom she steals for to buy food and clothing.

I suppose I could cure them all, but I couldn't possibly. Why...the cost of course. My herbs and supplies would barely heal one, yet alone the dozens and hundreds of the city.

If only my little funds hadn't been stolen days ago...what, Xmond, you have funds suitable to the task? To save hundreds of children from a slow, lingering death wracked with pain and terror?

So the best way to separate a pirate from his treasure is...to let him give it to you.

Canadian Easter

As asked, a few comments about the Canadian celebration of Easter.

To begin with, do not , under any circumstances, think that the observance has anything to do with religion of faith. The devout appear to run shoulders with the apostates in this. They all get the day off work! Well, days :D

There is usually a family meal, which is considered Important. Even for anti-social, hiding from the light roleplayers.

While there is the same obsession with chocolate eggs - though less Easter bunnies, and no soul cake duck. No, the obsession is Easter baskets, some as big as small children stuffed with candies and goodies. Not just for children though - you can get them for almost anything, from cute children's packs to nascar racing monsters.

Couldn't find my chocolate d20's though.

Easter - oh, the sunshine, it burns, it burns.

Four days off work, a weekend and two bank holidays.

And I'm bored already.

Still, things to talk about.

The garden....if I owned this place, rather then rent it, I would shoot the previous occupiers as wasteful and of little vision.

Where to start....on one side we have a little stream running. If it lasts all summer or not, I don't know. But right now its going to waste! Ten minutes work with a shovel and you could have a free, natural water supply for the garden. All you need to do is dig bit of a hole to stick a bucket...

Still, we have the seeds all planted. The sweetcorn is germinating already, only 2 days later...planting onions tonight!

And last night, I enjoyed one of my favourite five physical pleasures.

Mmmm.....a dark room.....some food.....and a hot, burning fire to warm my feet. (What did you think it was?!?)

I truly think we've lost some the simplest pleasures in life as a people. We've strived for central heating, electrical gadgets and gizmos. When all you really need to warm you is this...