Sunday, December 30, 2007

Sour Apples

In the last year you cannot have failed to notice somewhere along the line that there has been much ado about the Apple iPhone. This was a long awaited event (at least, if you were one of the sheep-like idiots who slavishly follow everything Apple do or someone stupid enough to want every gadget no matter how good or bad it is) and Apple, as usual, were not exactly modest about it: Steve Jobs (founder and head of Apple) claimed it would "reinvent" the telecommunications sector.

This immodest claim was based on the company’s previous success in the mp3 player market. The iPod became ubiquitous to the point that almost all mp3 players were called iPods by the lazy and the ignorant (i.e. most media and a not inconsiderable proportion of the general public). Personally, I didn't like them. I put aside my general dislike of Apple products and gave one a go but personally, I found the stupid click wheel thing the most idiotic and unenjoyable user experience I had had for quite some time. Of course, no-one dared criticise it because it was a case of the Emperor’s New Clothes: No one wanted to speak out against it because it was the new cool toy of the alleged intelligensia. Also, iTunes is the most hateful piece of software I've ever encountered: It's riddled with DRM, is huge and tied exclusively to the iTunes store which sells only DRM crippled music. Anyway, one way or another it did revolutionise the mobile music market, if only in the sense that it brought widespread awareness of the availability of players and, truth be told, it did make other manufacturers up their game to produce even better players that they already were (Samsung and Creative being my favourites as their sound engines are, to my mind, far superior to that of the iPod).

Sadly for Jobs and his crew, they didn't really think about this with the iPhone. When the iPod came along, it was entering an emergent market with little competition and certainly none that was well established. With the iPhone, however, they were going up against Nokia, Sony Ericsson, Samsung, LG, Sagem, Motorola and Benq Siemens amongst others. These people had been making phones for years and always trying to outdo each other with features, better user interfaces, better looking models and so on. And they had come a long, long way. After all, some of these companies had been making phones for 20 years since the mobile networks started to take off. The only chip Jobs could bring to the gaming table was that it was an Apple. That was all they felt they needed to say in order to imply that their machine would be better than anything else out there which is enormously arrogant and frankly, it's a claim that fell on it's arse.

Sure, it has a touch screen. But other manufacturers beat them to that. OK, it claims that large icons laid out sensibly are the key to simple navigation. Errr...Nokia beat you to that (and Sony Ericsson as that's how they do their menus these days too). Hmm. Well, it plays music. Big deal - I've had music player phones for years and they weren't restricted to the hideously DRM-crippled rubbish available on iTunes like the iPhone is. It's not a particularly small handset either. And to top it off, it was only available on specific networks in expensive tie-up deals.

So far so underwhelming. The iPhone delivered nothing new at all and the reviews more or less reflected this. Obviously, aesthetics is a subjective point. Myself, I don't think it looks all that great, others do - fair enough. But most reviewers found problems like variable call quality, a 3.5mm headphone jack (a good addition as it's annoying not to be able to use my expensive Shure headphone if I'm using a phone as a music source) which is too recessed to accept most headphone connecters (apparently they will sell you an extender but it's another piece to lose and frankly, for the money they charge they should have damn well included it or made it properly in the first place), the gestures used on the touch screen such as tapping and swiping are not consistent between applications which makes it more time consuming to get used to, a major failing in something which markets itself on it's 'intuitive' user interface, and a myriad of other problems. None of these issues are unique to the iPhone by any means, but they all mean that the iPhone is not the revelation that the Apple fan-boys proclaimed it would be with an almost messianic zeal.

But here's the real problem. Apple's dirty little secret (although it's not really all that secret to be honest) is that they are so protectionist about their devices that you cannot do anything to the phone by default. Third party applications are common throughout the mobile phone world but not on the iPhone. In order to use any you must unlock the phone using a hack worked out by a small army of enthusiasts who see it as a personal affront to their liberty to not be able to do what they want with their expensive toy, and rightly so. To put this in context, there are a number of manufacturers making so-called Smart Phones, most of which use Microsoft Windows Mobile Edition as their operating system. This is fully open to third party developers and you can even get the tools to create your own apps for free from Microsoft. Normally, MS are being lambasted for protectionism, anti-competitive behaviour and so on yet they are allowing anyone to add stuff to phones which run their OS and the phone manufacturers are happy about it too. So why on earth won't Apple? Well, I can't answer that but it seems it's not likely to change any time soon as this story shows.

But what really puzzles me is this: If you're so hacked off that every time there's a firmware update for your iPhone you lose your third party apps and potentially turn your expensive toy into a brick then BUY SOMETHING ELSE YOU FUCKING RETARD. Stop being such a sheep and buying iPhones just because you think they're cool. They are riddled with crippleware and you can do nothing to them without Apple's say so, so instead of whining about how your phone has been ruined, go and buy something from a company who don't get pissy when you want to do something to their product.

Bloody fools.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

What a bargain!

I ventured forth into the madness that is the sales today. I don't normally do this unless I really need something and think I might get a few quid off. It's not that I'm tight, it's just that in order to put up with the moronic stampeding of retarded 'bargain hunters' I need to know I'm actually going to get what I need at a decent price.

You see, the problem with bargains is that most of those items which people proudly tell you were a total bargain are not bargains at all because they are items that the person most likely didn't need in the first place. A bargain is only a bargain if it is something that you would have bought anyway but which you get for a reduced price.

Seeing as I started a new job recently where I have to wear a shirt and trousers again (not my favourite but sadly there are still a lot places in the dark ages when it comes to the dress code for their IT chimps who rarely see or are seen by anyone other than people employed in the same company), I thought it might be an idea to get a couple of new work shirts. I normally detest spending money on 'work clothes' but with shirts I'm not so worried because I know that I can wear them with jeans when the occasion arises so they're not exclusively for going to a dingy office and sitting behind a screen all day. The problem is that I'm quite picky with shirts. I despise anything that might be deemed fashionable because in five minutes time, it won't be and I'll look like one of those halfwits you find working in mobile phone shops. I like shirts to be not too plain, not too garish and comfortable. Luckily, I don't have to wear a tie (the most pointless piece of apparel ever invented but that's another story) so I don't have to stand about wondering what tie will go with the shirt I like and then have some mincer simper at me about some hideous shiny silk item of utter waste.

Anyway, I also decided that, if I saw one I liked, I could do with a new coat. I have a few coats already but the one which is affectionately known as the 'roadkill' coat owing to it's largely furry nature (not actual fur I hasten to add - it was 30 quid in a Next sale years ago so it's probably made from recycled Coke bottles) is getting long in the tooth and has a large tear in it. Also, my old denim jacket is similarly aged and not really my cup of tea these days. This leaves my snowboarding coat (good for wet weather but not what you might call stylishly casual) and my 3/4 length smart black coat. This too is a few years old but still looks alright especially over a black suit but I don't much like taking it down the pub or on nights out because, well, it doesn't look great with jeans. Yes, I sometimes do care about my appearance even if it occasionally doesn't seem like it.

So with these errands in mind I popped in and started searching. M&S first, but no coats or shirts in the sales so I went off to Next, Jollys (House of Fraser store), Austin Reed and Moss. Reed had a good offer on shirts, three for the price of two even on reduced ones, but to be honest the selection in my size wasn't great. There was a coat that I quite liked but it didn't do up to the neck and I'm not terribly keen on wearing a scarf so that was no good. Jollys were, not surprisingly, bloody expensive (although the coats they had were really, really nice and reduced too. Sadly, they were £350 to start with and even reduced to £250 it was more than I was willing to stump up on a coat). Moss had some OK shirts and some OK coats but nothing great. Next failed on all counts as they have been getting increasingly crap of late, in my not-so-humble opinion.

But then I spotted a shop I'd never noticed before. I don't know why, it's been there for a while by all accounts and it's at the posh end of Milsom Street in Bath which I regularly walk up. It was T M Lewin, a shirt makers which is based in Jermyn Street, London, but have obviously branched out. Now, normally anything which is on Jermyn Street is expensive (think hand-made Lobb shoes, Fortnum & Mason and the like) and indeed, normally they are: £85 per shirt, so no wonder I'd not been in there before as that's a lot of cash for a shirt as far as I'm concerned. But in their sale, every shirt was £25. Strewth, now that is a bargain - high quality shirts which will last for ages for £60 less than normal. I took two. I must say that the assistant was terribly helpful - she measured my arms to make sure I got the right size and talked me through the cuts to make sure I got one I was happy with - top class service. I would have added a pair of cashmere-lined leather gloves to the pile down from £75 to £30 as well but they had not got any in my size. Shame - been on the lookout for some for a while.

As for the coat, well, I ended up getting the first one I looked and liked in M&S because it was dead on what I wanted and, at £130, was about the same price as the other coats I had seen in sales and liked but which hadn't been able to button right up. So, all in all I think I did OK. I expect years of service from shirts and coats and the two brands I bought are certainly high enough quality to do that and more. Thing in though, I looked at the stuff in Next in the sale and I wondered to myself, why on earth do people queue up to get in at 5am to buy it? Sure, it's heavily discounted but it is universally crap: cheaply made, cheap looking and just not at all nice. Several people needed medical attention and I'm sure that I heard at least one person suffered hypothermia while queuing somewhere this year, if you can believe that. Madness.

Oh well, for me the sales are over for another year and I for one am glad. We've just had the rampant consumerism of Christmas, we really don't need any more for a while.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Look, I found the software!

The BBC have reported on a new Personal Transport System to be installed at Heathrow terminal 5 (local interest angle: the company that makes it is based in Bristol). But ehat caught my eye was the diagram at the bottom of the article which points out the key parts of the vehicle: The front, the rear and the "software". Yes, they've managed to pinpoint the software, quite accurately too it would seem.

Do these pillocks actually copy check the drivel they are putting out any more?

Sunday, December 16, 2007

I'm still alive

Although after last nights works do and then more boozing at another party afterwards, it's a close run thing. I feel like mildly tepid death.

There's been a stack of stuff I've thought about blogging recently but I just haven't gotten around to it. I may do one or two of them in the coming weeks, but I thought I might just share a few audio files that appeared on a blog that I read called Chase Me Ladies, I'm In The Cavalry. These audio clips are recordings of real calls made to the Cambridgeshire police 999 emergency line. The stupidity of these people has to be heard to be believed. I'm actually quite astonished any of them can remember to breathe. Anyway, here they are (all mp3 files which can be played directly from the link, no need to save them locally):

The crazy old lady

What is today's date?

There's pole dancing at number three

I can't find Homebase and I'm very distressed

Is there a hairdressers open in Cambridge?

The operators show a level of restraint and patience that is truly remakable in the face fo such mind-bendibgly idiotic people. I really hope that if I ever have a need to call for police assistance that I get one of these people because they appear to be completely unflappable.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Notes from a small island

No, really, I am on a small island. Hong Kong to be precise. Why, you might be wondering, am I blogging whilst I am on holiday? Well, the thing is, I have managed to get a cold and after tromping around the Jade Market this morning and the IFC Mall this afternoon, I didn't really feel like going out to Lantau to see the Big Buddha or up to see the Ten Thousand Buddhas. Plus it started to rain. Arse. So, I've come back to my friend's apartment where I'm staying to check on my return details, take hot Beechams and vitamin C in the hope that I will feel better for my last couple of days.
I can never get it quite right on holidays: I never know whether to go all out and try to see and do everything I can or use the time to relax, wind down and catch up on sleep. I don't normally go abroad - in fact this is my first foreign holiday in three years and the first time in a long time that I've gone long distance. Not because of some worthy reason like carbon footprints or anything but simply because I hate flying and the hassle and expense it engenders. Plus there are a lot of beautiful places to go in the UK and Ireland. But this time, given that I've travelled something like 6,000 miles, I figured it would be churlish not to try and fit in plenty.
Problem is, I was pretty tired and run down before I left what with one thing and another and since I arrived I have had two nights out which ended at about, ooohh, 7am (including the night I stepped off the plane after a 12 hour flight and losing most of a day) and I have definitely been out and about seeing the sights. Of course, being on holiday has meant that beer has been drunk (and cocktails, and champagne and flaming Lamborghinis and I don't know what else). Coupled with dramatic change in climate experienced between the UK and here and a change in diet that has seen three normal meals a day replaced with ad hoc meals of all sorts and a serious reduction in vitamin C intake, this has left me a bit susceptible.
Maybe now I see why tropical islands with so little to do on them other than laze about in the shade and drink the occasional cold one hold such appeal to so many. You see, there are two kinds of holidays: Travelling and relaxing. Travelling holidays are where you go to visit places and see stuff, do stuff. Relaxing holidays are just that. I have to say that I really should have gone for a relaxing holiday this time round. Never mind - the main thing is it's still been a blinder and it's not over yet and I'd do exactly the same again as I got to see my friend, make some new ones and have some truly memorable times (Lan Kwai Fong is not easily forgotten and cocktails at the Felix Bar in the legendary Peninsular Hotel is something you have to do when you're here). So, with that in mind, it's time to watch a movie, drink some more Beechams and have tea. Ta ta.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Ho ho fuckin' ho

Whilst it is indeed true that Christmas comes but once a year, it seems to come around with depressing speed as time goes by. No, this isn't a diatribe about how time seems to speed up as you get older, but it's nearly as popular a theme about this time of year. Today I went into town to do some holiday shopping (I shall be jetting off to the Orient in a few days time for a much needed break) and I discovered that Bath city council have decided to put up the Christmas decorations already. It's still the middle of October and we have the lights, tinsel and baubles out already.

Why? Why the bloody hell do we need this cack up when we're still two full weeks from Guy Fawkes' night? And even then it'll be another 7 or 8 weeks until Christmas itself. Granted this isn't as bad as the supermarkets and department stores who start decking the halls with boughs of holly (or at least putting wrapping paper, cards, tinsel and crackers on the shelves along with other assorted seasonal tat) sometime in September, but still - at least lets have the fireworks before we start breaking out the plastics Santa’s.

I used to love Christmas - what kid doesn't? The excitement building up to it, the expectation of presents (fairly modest ones when I was a lad as there were three of us kids and my Dad was just a middle ranking civil servant so we weren't exactly flush), the sights and smells you only got once a year (Liquorice Allsorts, Quality Street and peanuts always stuck out for me), the school Christmas play and so on. I loved it all. But as you get older you are more aware of the rank commercialism that goes along with it and that rather tarnishes the whole experience.

Don't get me wrong: I am an atheist and couldn't give a monkeys bollock about all the religious shite surrounding the whole thing (lets face it - most of the accompaniments are in fact of Pagan origin, not Christian, and I'm certainly not averse to the sentiment of peace and goodwill to all men. You don't have to be religious to subscribe to that one), so I don't feel that any kind of message or spiritual significance is being diminished, but it is just such a grotesque example of rampant consumerism now that it's depressing. Kids get hundreds, even thousands, of pounds worth of presents and yet seem ever more ungrateful as well as growing up without any concept of the value of money. OK, so I'm guilty too - I don't have kids but I do like to spoil my nieces and nephews rotten because I love them dearly but at least I know my sisters, whatever their financial position at any given time, will most certainly impart a sense of propriety regarding money to their kids.

When I was at university, Christmas was still a good laugh for a number of reasons. Firstly, my old mate Rich and I would wander round town of a Saturday afternoon browsing the nice looking Christmas goodies in M&S and shaking our heads in wonder at the really weird selection of random gifts that department stores flog. Then there would be lots of parties and my housemates and I would have our own Christmas day before the end of term when I would cook a roast chicken dinner and we'd exchange presents and play board games - all good clean fun (at least until we got completely arseholed on cheap wine and other booze whereupon it would descend into enjoyable anarchy). But once uni was done, it just got less and less enjoyable.

All in all I hate Christmas shopping with a passion because, especially in this town, the streets are rammed with sideshows, merry-go-rounds and slow moving morons who stop in the middle of the street to stare at things meaning you, who are trying to get everything done pronto so you can go home and fume, just get more and more annoyed. As for the day itself, well it depends on where I am and who I'm with. I have traditionally taken a dim view of it in my adult life thanks to the stress induced by my step mother (who, quite frankly, is an odious old bitch who makes everyone’s life a misery. But the last two Christmases have been spent with my sisters and were very enjoyable (especially when my niece and nephew were involved - there's something to be said for experiencing Christmas vicariously through good kids and their infectious excitement). This year, I don't know what I'm doing but I'm probably staying at home and just relaxing but until December at least, I won't even be giving the event itself any more though than that because it's too damn early!

Friday, October 19, 2007

Hahahahahahahahahaha!

Bad luck France - 34-10 to the Pumas and your second loss to them in the same tournament. You must be so proud. Now maybe that ridiculous looking hair-bear of yours might go and get a proper haircut, the scruffy oik. And maybe you ought to get yourselves sorted because if Argentina to get into the 6 nations then it will make things very interesting and, much as I enjoy seeing you get well and truly rinsed, it would be a shame for what was once a quality team fall apart. And it would make European rugby just that bit duller.

Monday, October 08, 2007

Dan le Sac and Scroobius Pip strike again

Scroobius Pip is a contemporary poet placing his verse over modern electronic beats provided by Dan le Sac. They're beginning to get a cult following and it's not hard to see why. Pip tends towards quasi-political statement without entering into direct positional discourse whilst commentating on the trends and happenings of modern life. But never mind all that cack - the point is that he's pretty astute has a lot more to say for himself than any other song writer I've heard of late. I've already posted Thou Shalt Always Kill, so here's Letter From God for your enjoyment.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Stop Press!

Top Gear is back!!! 8pm Sunday 7th October on BBC2. Woo hoo!

My pile's bigger than yours

In yet another flimsy attempt to disguise the fact I haven't been arsed to think of something to write for a while, here's another video. Some people may not know from where the blog got it's name. Well, ace queen is my cursed hand at poker: I can't win with it and I can't win against it. The point is, I'm partial to the odd hand of poker either for fun or for a few quid. Mind you, I have never played a game for more than about 20 quid because I'm canny enough to know that even though I'm not a bad player, there's always a bloody good chance of losing your wedge. All of which makes this video even more amazing.

The two pros playing this hand, Gus Hansen and Daniel Negreanu, are very well known on the top poker circuits and are often featured on televised games, and both of them have won a lot of money at the tables. Negreanu is normally very ebullient at the table and even a bit gobby (all part of the act to try and put off opponents) whereas Hansen is always very taciturn, so it's telling that Negreanu is very quiet during this hand. And with good reason: More than half a million dollars in cold hard cash change places on the table in the course of the hand, and it went in Hansen's favour. I won't bore you with the details of odds and so on - just gulp slightly and feel the pain as Negreanu gets suckered right in to every poker players ultimate nightmare: The hand you simply can't lay down.




Sunday, August 19, 2007

Poet or plank?

There were a number of things I thought about writing today, all of them rants, because they have come to my attention in the last few days (slow middle lane drivers on the motorway, the endless roadworks to install those utterly useless 'driver information systems' which only serve to tell you that you are in a traffic jam, like you hadn't already noticed, or to distract you with patronising messages and pointless estimates of how long it will take you to drive an arbitrary distance. Quite how we managed before all this technical wizardry is a mystery to me). However, something I have just read changed all that in an instant when it made my sides hurt with laughing.

The subject of this humour is none other than Pete Doherty, the smack addled and talentless pikey du jour. For those not in the know (and who can't be arsed to read the wiki link), Doherty first came into the public eye as the front man for a (at the time) little known indie band called The Libertines. Essentially, they were a re-hashed and re-branded punk outfit who stole mercilessly from those who had been before but for some bizarre reason they were heralded as the next big thing and even more inexplicably, Doherty was touted as some sort of musical genius.

To be honest, I'm amazed he can sit on a toilet the right way round. He is a skinny, acne infested waster who spends his entire time filling himself with more or less any substance which might just give him a bit of a buzz and he most certainly is not any kind of genius - quite the opposite in fact. Somehow he has ended up doinking Kate Moss, herself no brain of Britain and no stranger to a bit of Bolivian, and the tabloids love it. The Libertines eventually saw sense and booted him out of the band because he rarely bothered to turn up for gigs anyway (and they had produced only one track that was even vaguely worth the effort, although naturally that didn't deter NME from declaiming them as some sort of messiahs and spouting reams of bad prose about them. Sadly this is normal for the NME - a bunch of washed up hacks with their heads so firmly entrenched in their own arseholes that they would struggle to recognise a decent tune if it bit them on the balls) but he was soon back with another band called Babyshambles, and a shambles they certainly were. A real low was reached when, during a television interview, Doherty squirted a syringe full of his own blood over the camera. Even his own band mates were disgusted but that didn't bother Doherty one little bit. The music they produce is boring, unoriginal and mostly sounds like they can barely be arsed to play it (and many people certainly wish they would go the whole hog and just give up) and the only thing keeping Doherty going now is tabloid notoriety.

However, it seems that our Pete has actually learnt to write and has made a book out of his 'collected writings' so now those odd people who are fans of his can fawn over his sub-teenage (ahem) 'poetry', which is fair enough if you're into that sort of thing, but a little snippet about this book on the legendary Popbitch made me laugh rather a lot. It was a review of his book (or an excerpt thereof) and it was safe to say that the writer was not a big fan of the book or the man:


A review of Pete Doherty's writings on Amazon: "I have ordered 53 of these books as I understand that they are written in his blood. According to my calculations that should use up about eight pints of it and hopefully bring an end to the adolescent dribblings of this smacked-up sub-Dickensian tossclump."


So, I decided to take a look at all the reviews on Amazon and nearly wet myself. They are either starry-eyed sycophants who sound like they want to crawl up his arse or people who have seen the book for what it is - the outpourings of someone on whom the moniker of 'idiot' would actually be an insult to idiots everywhere. Needless to say there are some colourful phrases involved but it is well worth the effort of reading them because they're really rather good overall. Enjoy!

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Please, oh please...

Rapper 50 Cent (or 'Fiddy' as he is know by the dribbling retards that listen to him) has apparently threatened to not release any more solo albums if his next release is beaten in terms of sales by Kanye West's new album which is launched on the same day. Now, I'm no Kanye West fan but his music is pretty inoffensive and melodious and if there is any justice in the world then his record will do better and the odious ex-crack dealer will fuck off for good and never come back.

For those who don't know, 50 Cent is a former drug dealer from (I think - I don't really give two shits either way) Philadelphia who seems to be very proud of the fact that he ruined a lot of lives by peddling that filthy shite to the needy and desperate. Not only that but he thinks he's a hard man because he's been shot nine times. Now hang on a minute. Being shot nine times doesn't make you hard, it just means you're bloody careless and that the person or persons shooting you were fucking useless with guns. He likes to rap about his bitches (or maybe hos - whatever they're called this week) and how he has lots of bling and how that obviously means he's better than you.

Look, I have no problem with rap - Public Enemy and Nas, amongst other, feature in my music collection - but I do have a problem with rap that doesn't say anything at all. Rap was originally heavily politicised and often conveyed a message to a disaffected youth. Whether that message was perceived by outsiders as good or bad is irrelevant, the point is that it had, well, a point. 50 Cent is the most banal, pointless gimp going. Not only that he has an appaling voice and looks like he'd struggle to find more than a couple of brain cells to rub together. Quite what kids (mostly white and from the underclass in the UK) see in this gormless mouth-breather is quite beyond me, although I freely admit I am old beyond my years and quite grumpy with it. But the fact remains that with a bit of luck this talentless tosser might just bog off for good and never trouble the airwaves and music charts again.

Please, just this once, let something said by a celebrity in the heat of the moment actually come to pass (I'm still waiting for that tedious short arse Paul Daniels to fuck off as well).

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Mind the bandwagon

Alright, I'll come clean: I'm one of those slightly snobby middle class types who tries to buy organic food wherever possible. This isn't because I'm conviced it's better for you or because it's not doused in chemicals that will make my spuds shrivel up or my hair fall out (or whatever it is they do), I buy it because, to me, it tastes better. Yes, really.

As I've mentioned before in a slightly elongated rant about supermarkets, most of the fruit and veg varieties stocked by supermarkets tends to be chosen for their high yields, long shelf life and uniformity of appearance and not for flavour or quality. Organic varieties, however, tend to be more flavoursome in my opinion and the same goes for milk - organic is far better than the ordinary homogenised stuff. With meat, I'm not so fussed but I will buy free-range rather than ordinary stuff. Yes, I know I'm being stung for it but hey, that's my choice.

So it was with interest tonight that I spotted an organic chicken korma ready meal in Sainsburys. I realise that a korma is pretty feeble but I just didn't fancy a spicy dinner tonight. Now I know ready meals are generally crap, full of fat and bad for you in every way, but this one was an organic product at a premium price so I assumed it would be OK. Oh dear. That was mistake numebr one. Mistake number two was actually eating it once I'd seen it. Granted, the sauce was edible although it was riddled with chickpeas, something that, while I have no overt dislike of I'm not terribly fond of either, but the real shock was the chicken. Or at least I think it was chicken. It might have been cat. Either way, it was absolutely vile and I just couldn't eat it. It's a shame that the premium price didn't extend to getting you some premium meat.

Anyway, the upshot of all this is that once again I have been given a solid reminder that ready meals are universally shit and I should know better. It's just a shame that some company is rather crassly jumping on the bandwagon and palming off a rather inferior product on unsuspecting consumers. Not that it's unusal by any means but still - be wary of buying something just because it says it's organic. So is gangrene, technically speaking, and you wouldn't buy a pot of that now, would you?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

You dope

Unless you are dead (or perhaps American, seeing as a certain L Armstrong esq. has retired from it) you can't have failed to notice that the Tour de France is in full swing. Now, let me say from the outset that I have nothing but the utmost admiration for these chaps because they ride something like 100 or miles per day every day (more or less) for about 3 weeks. Nothing gets in the way: Mountains, weather, spectators - it's just part of the race. But as it seems happens every year, numerous riders have managed to fail dope tests and have been disqualified (as have the teams in some cases), the latest being a pre-race favourite Alexandre Vinokourov *.

Call me old fashioned, or possibly just naive, but there's something funny going on in the world of long distance road racing. A quick search of the BBC News website for 'tour de france doping' provides at least 10 pages of results with storied for every year back to 1998 about cyclists testing positive and being disqualified or teams being disqualified for doping their riders. Google brings back more than two and a half million results and I'm sure they go back much further than 1998.

So with all this previous history, why the bloody hell do teams and riders persist in this activity? You'd have to be monumentally thick to think you're going to get away with it. So are the riders, team managers, doctors and all the rest really that dense? Are they all so convinced of their own genius that they believe they'll not get caught? Well, maybe some of them are but I can't believe that all of them are that dim-witted and narcissistic. I'm sure it can't be cheap to enter a team in the TdF which might have a realistic chance of winning so why risk it?

Of course, there's always the possibility that the testing system is rubbish and insecure, but you would think that by now that would have been found out if it were the case, so the only conclusion I can draw is that a not insignificant number of professional road racing cyclists and their teams are total dolts. I'm sure that one argument which might be put forward as justification for this cheating is that there's a limit to how fit one person can be (and for sure these guys are amongst the fittest on the planet, no question about that) so they have to try everything to get an edge on their rivals.

Sure, I'll go along with that but using performance enhancing drugs? Sorry but that's not how it works. Let's take that argument to it's ridiculous extreme, just for a chuckle:

Let's assume you took the German everyone loves to hate, Mr M Schumacher, when he was at the top of his game in Formula 1. He was nigh on unbeatable. Sure, there are technical differences in the cars but they are usually so small as a result of the stringent technical regulations (something that sterilises the sport and makes it dull) that they're not worth talking about. Especially if you compare Ferrari with, say Honda. They both have very deep pockets for their teams so there is no reason why one should be so much better than the other car wise (engine failure and the like aside). Now, let’s take Jenson Button, once billed as the next big things and the Great White Hope for British Racing (shame he turned out to eb an also-ran). There's no denying that they are both extremely good drivers - the top flight. But, as far as I'm aware, in a straight fight where both men finished the race, Button never beat Schumacher (F1 buffs please correct me if I'm wrong!).

How does this compare to TdF doping scandals? Well, what if, just to get an edge on their rivals, Honda had slyly added a nitrous oxide kit to Jenson’s car? Or maybe upped the cubic capacity on the quiet giving them another 100bhp? Would that be fair? No because it's against the rules and it wouldn't be the man doing the winning but the machine. But the crux of the matter is that Honda wouldn't do it. Oh, I'm sure that it would cross their minds if they were certain they'd not get found out but they know they will so it's a pointless thought which isn't entertained.

So why on earth do cyclists still do it? Only the riders and teams can answer that. Athletics used to be riddled with doping years ago but it ahs cleaned itself up and it is now very rare to hear of a top flight athlete being caught using performance enhancing drugs, but you can bet your last penny that when the TdF rolls around again, there will be at least one rider found to be doing something naughty. Perhaps cycling ought to take a leaf out of their book now and clean up its image before it's too late because eventually, the public will tire of it and what happens when the crowds don't bother to turn up any more?





* Worth noting that Vinokourov didn't actually take any drugs, it seems that the evidence points towards him having had a blood transfusion. I'm guessing more blood in the body means a better metabolism of oxygen and energy thus providing a performance boost.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Thrill me

The is quite possibly the coolest thing I have seen in a long time. More than 1500 inmates from the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Cebu, Philippines, re-enacting the classic Michael Jackson Thriller video, complete with extremely ugly ladyboy. Man that rocks!

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Copywrong

There can be few more odious organisations in the world today than the RIAA. Essentially, their remit sounds like a good one - protect the interests of music artists and their intellectual property. After all, musicians earn their money from entertaining proles like us, so they deserve to be paid for what they do, right? I'd not argue that point, for sure, and I'm happy to pay for my entertainement. Even stuff I download, I only download to see if I like it. If so then I buy the CD as I'm mildly anally retentive and like to have the originals.

The problem is that the RIAA have gone a bit mental after winning a few battles against file sharing and the like. Instead of protecting artists rights they now mostly sit rocking back and forth with globs of spittle at the corners of their collective mouths trying to think up new ways of making themselves look mean, petty and stupid and by extension tarnishing artists with that reputation as well. It would appear that their collective God complex is so great that they are even throwing their weight about in the name of artists who don't even want the RIAA to act on their behalf.

This has been going on for several years: This 2003 San Francisco Chronicle article is one example of artists being unimpressed by the RIAA's bully boy tactics and general ignorance. Much as I dislike the band, Nine Inch Nails provided DRM-free versions of songs from their new album some of which were in formats ready for remixing using sequencing software. This was something which was actively done by the band with their record labels full knowledge and blessing and yet the RIAA tried to stop the marketing campaign by sending legal threats to web sites hsoting the files.

Want more? well, this year the RIAA set up a hip-hop DJ and producer well known (and well respected) for making mixtapes by hiring the guy and his sidekick and then arresting him for making the mix they requested (the full story is on the NY Times website but the miserable scrotes insist you sign up before you can read articles on their site so I'll leave that to you to decide if you wish to do). Apparently, it is well known in the industry that there are many acts who would not have achieved the level of exposure and, by inference, income that they have had they not been featured by DJ Drama and DJ Don Cannon on their mixes. Nor was there a single artist who was identified as feeling wronged by Drama and Cannon, yet the RIAA still took it upon themselves to act like arseholes.

They're utterly incompetent too. There are numerous examples, but I'll list just a couple.

1) They tried to sue a dead 83 year old grandmother who had never owned a computer.

2) They tried to sue another grandmother (bit of a theme here - perhaps they think grandmothers are a softer target than tech-savvy kids?) for allegedly downloading, amongst other things, Snoop Dogg.

3) Just for completeness, they tried suing yet another granny who didn't even know what file-sharing was. Unfortunately for them, she is countersuing alleging that the RIAA used an unlawful private investigation in their original lawsuit against her. Hopefully she will win and make them look as stupid as they really are.

Clearly, the RIAA is inept in the extreme. The above three incidents are far from isolated and they don't just target little old ladies.

Now, their latest wheeze is to order the removal, from YouTube of course, of around one hundred instructional videos which have been posted by a well known guitar teacher. In fact, between this guy and another well known teacher, there were close to 200 videos. One is based in San Diego (David Taub), the other in London (Justin Sandercoe) and both are professional guitarists. The videos mostly show the basics such as picking, chords, scales and so on, but you cannot teach any instrument successfully unless you teach real-world examples of tunes. However, because the guy used a Rolling Stones song, the RIAA have decided to stick their oar in and claim copyright infringement.

Truth is, these videos don't even feature the whole songs, just sections to demonstrate the practical application of the techniques being taught. To have two professional guitarists provide effectively free tuition is fantastic; there are plenty of people out there who would love to learn guitar but don't have access to that level of private tuition and now they've been denied it again by a group of self-important greed-mongers who are only interested in feathering their own nests no matter what the costs. There are still some instructional videos on YT from Sandercoe and the ever astounding Tommy Emmanuel (amongst others) but it's a sad day for music that it has come to this.

Want to know the real rub? You can bet your life that even if the Rolling Stones said "No, we don't mind - it's good to inspire people with our music, let them carry on" the RIAA probably wouldn't care. Somehow they have a mandate to do as they please regardless of the wishes of artists and yet still they claim to be protecting the interests of said artists. Seriously, somehow these self-righteous morons have to be stopped because it is out of control and all they are dooing is wrecking peoples lives and the reputation of artists and the music industry in general. Speaking as a hobby guitarist I'm very miffed that they have targetted music teachers. After all, without instructional sessions from teachers, there wouldn't be half as many musicians out there and the RIAA wouldn't have anything to do.

Actually come to think of it that's not such a bad thing at all...

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Greatest instruments you've never heard of

Buggering hell, I've gone post crazy. And it's another video, but trust me, this one is even better than the last one.

Ever heard of a Theremin? Probably not, but then most people haven't. In case you haven't, it's an instrument that was invented in the early 20th century and is played by moving your hands through a shaped electro-magnetic field. By all accounts they're bastard hard to play so that makes this even more astonishing. And yes, the chap who appears to be wafting his hands about over a Corby trouser press with a TV aerial attached is indeed playing the vocal part. There should be more Theremins in modern music.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Choon

Blimey, I'd not heard of this chap before but I tell you what, it's a bloody good track an the video is entertaining. And he's dead right - you should never question Stephen Fry.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

The magical music box

In a fit of guilt I thought I ought to try and be a tad more regular with posts and it occurred to me that apart from appending the odd "Listening to:" tag on the end of posts and a few links I don't talk much about one of the loves of my life, namely music.

I'll not pretend I'm a proper muso and can deconstruct songs and find their deep and meaningful roots but I do listen to a lot of music a lot of the time and I play the guitar a bit (and in my youth, the piano and the drums although neither for very long or very well). Even so I'm not one for all the flowery prose and polemic you find in the music press, NME being a particularly guilty party here for perpetuating drivel of such pompousness and ego strokingly kiss arse that I can barely stand to read it these days. So, with this in mind, I figured I'd share with you my current album(s) of the month every so often and today I'm going to start with the current Maximo Park album, Our Earthly Pleasures.

I'll admit the first time I heard Maximo Park's first single (Graffiti), I wasn't overly impressed. I figured they were another pretentious art-rock outfit very much in the mould of skinny pseudo-retro chimps Franz Ferdinand and I didn't pay too much attention to them. But eventually, their other songs began to seep into my consciousness through the radio and TV and I'd think "Oooh, that's quite good, who is that?". Eventually I found out it was the self same band I'd written off and so I gave their first album, A Certain Trigger, a good listen.

Well the upshot was that I ate my words and loved the album (in particular the slightly maudlin Going Missing and the lovely The Coast Is Always Changing) so when the new album came out I was only two months behind the rest of the world in getting hold of it. Now there's a phenomenon in music known as the 'Difficult second album' which usually occurs after a very successful first album. It's been quite a while since I heard a bands second major release that lived up to the first, recent disappointments including Bloc Party and The Killers (I'm rather hoping that as of next week I'm not including the Editors in that list...) so I was hoping that Maximo Park would buck that trend.

And boy, have they ever. From the meaty opening organ note and guitar combo through the lyrically brilliant Books From Boxes to the lively semi-retro pop and exuberance of Karaoke Plays and A Fortnight's Time to the vaguely disturbing ending of Parisian Skies this album is probably as near to perfection as I've ever heard from an album of any genre at any time and certainly the best pop-rock album bar none. As a bit of a closet Del Amitri fan (well, quite a lot of a fan actually) I can hear certain similarities between the Maximo Park sound, especially on this album, and the little known first eponymous Dels album with it's tight mid-eighties pop-rock sound influenced by the late 70s punk and power pop genres. This is unquestionably a Good Thing.

Sadly, I probably won't get to see the band play live this year as it's now the festival season and then the only gigs they're doing before the end of the year are miles away but I will definitely be making an effort to go and see them some time in the next 12 months and I will be hoping that they can manage another album of such brilliant composition next time round too. It is often said "If you buy only one album this year, make it this one" but I'm not going to say that because next week sees the second album from the abso-bloody-lutely brilliant Editors and I have seriously high hopes for that too. Instead, I'll say that if you enjoy well-formed, tightly played and lyrically intelligent pop or indie rock then if this isn't in your collection then you're missing out.

9.5/10

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Rain, cars, work and everything in between

Bit of a gap in postings, for which I apologise, but there have been two very good, inter-connected reasons for that. Firstly, I have just returned from a week's sleeping in a wet, muddy field in France for the 24 Heures Du Mans. However, before I could get away for it, I had to complete a project which had a ridiculous deadline (which wasn't actually met but I managed to get extended somewhat) which was agreed by my boss with no actual consultation of the technical staff who would be doing the job (i.e. me). As a result, I had to spend several weeks working until 7 or 8 every night and do some work on weekends too. After getting home, I didn't much feel like writing anything so I didn't and I didn't have any time to think about what I might rattle on about anyway.

Anyhoo, I finally got the work done before I left (or at least, enough done in the time - many thanks to my colleague for picking up some of the tasks late in the day and doing a fantastic job on them) and I was working right up to the moment I left for my trip as I went straight from the office. Boy, did I need that break. It's only been a week in total and during that time I have driven over 1000 miles and had a day at home so only 4 full days were spent at Le Mans. Having set off at stupid o'clock on the Wednesday morning, we drove through some dodgy looking weather and a tug from the Gendarmes who took a dim view of the ninth member of our party being tied to the back of the van (a blow up sex-doll called Ruby - long story but suffice to say it was a piss take of an incident involving one of the lads a few years ago at Le Mans) to find the campsite dry, warm and not a little sunny so we immediately cracked open the beers and set about erecting our sleeping quarters. We had with us a borrowed 9 metre long marquee type thing with no floor which had been used by the group before (there were 8 of us this year). However, we managed to make the Chuckle Brothers look like a crack team of tent building specialists but eventually got the marquee up, the gazebo up, the gas BBQ and hob plumbed in, the generators running, both fridges going (and stocked with beer in one, food in the other), the stereo on, the wooden A-frame and sofa rigged up with ropes to make a garden swing chair and the microwave heating up the massive bowl of chilli we brought for the evenings dinner. Oh, and we had also laid the carpet in the marquee and rigged up the fluorescent lighting in the marquee and gazebo. Needless to say, we got a bit drunk (we had something like 15 crates of beer which is about 160 pints, 6 1/2 litres of vodka and a litre of Irish Whisky) and had a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Sadly, about 1am it started to rain. A lot. It dawned on us that our spot was perhaps not the best as rain poured down off the track through the campsite, under the walls of the tent and into out sleeping area. Several of us had been planning to sleep on the floor all week (with airbeds, of course) but the ferocity of the rain soon made us re-consider.

Sadly, the pattern was set and the time we were there was mostly overcast and humid with vicious downpours that turned everything into a sea of mud 8 inches deep. We had to visit a local camping store so people could buy wellies. I bought a camp bed so I wouldn't be on the floor, two lads had brought with them their own tent and they moved into that as it had a groundsheet and one other guy bought a self erecting tent and shifted his bed into there. Still, the alcohol staved off the cold and we had a bloody good time, racing on the go-karts, driving down the famous Mulsanne straight, watching people in fast cars and bikes doing burnouts, wheel spins and donuts on the road alongside the campsite, and finally, watching the racing.

Now, I like cars, especially big, noisy, immensely powerful ones. I went to the British Grand Prix a few years back and experiences a noise from those incredibly high revving engines that I thought would never be matched. Wrong. It wasn't the LMP1 cars, like the Audi that won of the Peugeot that came second which sounded so good. They are diesel engines and are eerily, spookily even, quiet. Now was it their petrol engined counterparts from numerous other teams. Nor was it the less punchy LMP2 cars. No, it was the GT cars, GT1 class to be more precise and one or two of the GT2s as well.

The GT classes are all based on road cars so they are recognisable - the Aston Martin DB9, the Corvette C6, the Porcshe 911 GT3, Ferrari 430, Spyker C8 Squadron, Ferarri 550 Maranello, Lamborghini Murcielago and others besides. They're not even as powerful as formula one cars (in the region of 600bhp for GT1 and 450-500 for GT2) but they are light, they look fantastic and sound like nothing else. Every time the Aston Martins (one of which won the class and came 5th overall) changed gear, there was a terrific bang of overrun when un-burnt fuel ignites in the exhaust. The V12 positively howls with a noise to make the hairs on the back of any enthusiast’s neck stand on end. The Corvettes, meanwhile, have a lower much more growling V8 that barks and roars and makes the ground shake (literally). The Spykers provided twin flashes of combusting fuel every time they slowed down for a sharp bend and the Panoz V8s (run by LNT Racing) are so loud they almost hurt.

They look good too. The Aston Martin DB9 is a handsome beast to start with but the DB9R is pure motoring porn. The Corvette is handsome in a brutalist sort of way and the Spyker in particular has a fantastically lean and nimble look about it. Of course, every one has a favourite and mine is Aston Martin, without a doubt, so I was glad they won and I celebrated by buying a team shirt for a sum of money which I will not reveal as it makes me wince and may draw from you, dear reader, the dis-approving tuts reserved for those with more money than sense (although in truth, I shouldn't have bought it precisely because I didn't really have enough money to do so, but never mind, I like it and that's all that matters).

Sadly, the weather meant there was a lot of safety car action; even the last hour of the race was a procession behind the safety car (although it did come in with 10 minutes to go) in atrocious conditions but we put up with the soaking to watch then race end. We then walked up the track to the pit area, as you are allowed to do here, where we stood directly below where the presentations were made to the winners. We were even briefly on TV (well, on of our umbrellas is visible. If I can be arsed to find it, and it's there to be found, I'll try and get a screen grab of it). As a memento, I took home a 'marble' (a piece of rubber from the tyres which scrubs off on corners and collects on the outside of the bend, making that area of the track more treacherous for the cars) and a chunk of carbon fibre and composite structure which I found in the grass and must have come from one of the cars.

We finished the trip by trying to blow up out microwave by microwaving a beer can full of petrol (doesn't work) and generally setting fire to stuff which seems to be a bit of a tradition amongst those staying the Sunday night, especially this year when people looked at the state their tents had gotten into and decided that they really couldn't be arsed to pack it, take it home and try and clean it then dry it out. SO, after another early start, we packed up and made good time home and I finally got back after 510 miles of driving at about 6 last night, tired but very smelly and dirty (there are few showers at the campsites and long queues so it's easier to not bother - it's not as if we were staying at Claridges) and very much looking forward to a long, hot shower and a shave and being able to use a toilet whenever the mood strikes without having to queue. I even got some bargain 1997 Bordeaux Superieur on the way back.

Next year is already in planning - we are thinking of a Top Gear style challenge which will see teams of two or three with a budget of 500 quid coming up with 'star cars' so anything from film or TV is fair game (big up to the two we saw this year - a VW Scirocco done up rather nicely as the De Lorean from Back to the Future and a big LDV van which had had it's asthmatic old diesel lump swapped for a V8 and had been painted bright orange with a confederate flag on top and a Dixie horn - the 'General LDV'. In a Borat stylee, "Very naice, how much-a?"). There may well be a website for it too so if and when it happens, I’ll let you all know where to find it. Now though, I have had a day to recover and do the washing and clean the car (it was filthy inside and out) and tomorrow it’s back to work and reality but at least it’s a 3 day week. I’ll be counting the days until next year though – it may have been my fist visit to Le Mans but it certainly won’t be my last.

P.S. I'd like to big up Decathlon for having probably the best outdoors and sporting goods stores I've ever been in - their camp beds are highly recommended! They're bloody good value too.

Friday, May 18, 2007

I don't want no Scrubs...

Actually I do. I've been a fan of US sitcom Scrubs since I accidentally caught an episode from the first series on cable TV years back, probably not that long after it had started. I remember seeing a trailer for it but not being a medical TV fan (think Casualty and Holby City, two of the most dirge-like and tedious programmes on TV today) I didn't bother to watch it, so I must have caught it on one of these catch up sessions of which channels are now so fond (they have to put less thought and cash in to get more or less the same viewing figures and ad revenue for a given time period - result!). It made me laugh until I was almost in tears and my sides hurt.

Since then I've been a devoted fan but recently I read something somewhere which suggested that series 6 was the last ever series which would have made the double bill aired in the States this week the last ever bit of Scrubs. Thankfully, this has proved unfounded as NBC have confirmed a seventh season will appear this autumn (along with a new season of Heroes with around 30 episodes. For those not in the know, Heroes is a cult series with a following almost as large and devoted as that of Lost, but the programme writers knew how to write something you could actually follow whereas the writers of Lost appear to have been smoking crack when they came up with most of the utterly incomprehensible storylines that they run with).

Oddly, Scrubs was almost a victim of its own success. It started in 2001 with a cast of virtual unknowns (at least on this side of the pond, perhaps an American reader might enlighten me as to any major achievements by any of the cast prior to the show?) with the sole exception, for me, of Sarah Chalke. Ms Chalke was better known to me as Becky from Roseanne (which was shown late on Friday nights on Channel 4 for years in the UK and which I liked for some reason. Probably because John Goodman was so damn funny. It certainly wasn't for Roseanne herself, who is a bit of a fruitloop). However as Scrubs became more popular, the ratings grew and therefore ad revenue grew because it was promoted to prime time slots and therefore the cast got paid more. It seems it's now so successful that the network can barely afford to pay the actors and writers. Still, I think it would be good to finish this programme with one final season which does whatever it needs to do because it is still funny but that can't last. Just look at Friends. It's even had it's own imitators such as Channel 4's desperately shit Green Wing. Still, they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

It’s easy for Europeans to adopt a rather superior attitude to the Americans for all sorts of reasons, not least because so much American TV is utter shite. But, now and again, someone somewhere gets it right. Not only that but TV execs realise it and put on the programme. Lost is apparently an example of this although I’ve never seen the appeal, but Scrubs, Heroes, The Sopranos, Family Guy, Futurama, and The Simpsons are all evidence that America is capable of producing well written, well acted mainstream TV shows with wide appeal. There are even more examples of cult TV in other genres: Samurai Jack, Clone Wars and Dexter’s Laboratory are all cult cartoons from the creative genius that is Gennady Tartakovsky but there are plenty of other examples too.

So, I say vive American TV because now and then it throws out some real gems but in between times we can watch Jerry Springer, Judge Judy and Oprah and be thankful that our general populace isn’t quite as utterly retarded as some of the less savoury elements of our transatlantic cousins' society. Although anyone who has watched Tricia or Jeremy Kyle will know that we're trying really hard to emulate the most pikey elements of the public seen on Jerry Springer. Quite why, I have no idea.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Two posts in a day?

Might have to change the title from 'occasional' to 'almost regular'.

This post is actually a replication of a post I have submitted tonight to cable forum because my broadband provider, Virgin Media, have pulled a bit of a fast one by introducing traffic shaping (or throttling or QoS, whatever you want to call it) without actually mentioning to, well, anyone including their own staff it would seem.

The original post is here and here are some of the internet resources reporting on the throttling:
Cable Forum, IS Preview and Neowin.





Hi all

New to the forum but having the same issue with traffic shaping. I am on a 4Mbit connection and have noticed it being a tad slow of late and tonight very much so. Someone at work told me about the shaping policy today, not even VM themselves which annoyed me a touch.

So, I rang up. First off I got a CS rep who didn't have scooby doo what I was talking about so he went off to talk to someone and afterwards maintained that actually these limits had always been in place under the Fair Use policy but were simply not highlighted. This I doubted, and I argued as such but could not prove it at that moment in time. He told me that if I looked in my ts and cs then I would see he was right. So, after a fruitless argument about it, I gave up and went hunting for the ts and cs Telewest sent me. I found them and they make no mention of these limits and in fact they do not even appear to mention the Fair Use policy at all, so rang again.

This time, I got a girl who said that a few people were asking managers about this as they were getting more and more calls. She told me I'd need to speak to broadband tech support and put me through. Enter stage right a call centre employee in Mumbai who clearly didn't even understand the question as there were massive pauses while he tried to locate some part of his script that might appease me (not his fault, obviously - he's simply the result of pointless cost cutting exercises. I'd rather have a lower top package which was genuinely unlimited with decent technical backup than headline grabbing alleged speeds and crap 'support' from someone 10,000 miles away). Anyway, eventually he put me on hold as he clearly didn't have the faintest idea what my query/complaint was about and after nearly half an hour I was cut off. Exeunt stage left the Worlds Worst Tech Support.

So, I tried a third time. This time I got though to yet another CS rep who told me I'd need to talk to broadband technical support. I said I didn't want to talk to the Indian centre because they simply don't have the level of English comprehension to understand what you're saying if your query deviates in anyway from their scripted answers. I was put through to a UK call centre (hurrah!) and was dealt with by a most helpful chap. Sadly, he didn't know anything about it either, so he asked a couple of managers. Unfortunately neither of them could agree on what the policy meant or how it would actually be implemented either.

However, this chap did then go and talk to someone else and it was eventually clarified that if you go over 750MB of download on a 4Mbit connection, you will get throttled. No ifs, no buts, that's exactly it. Of course, there's nothing the operators can do about it (anyone who thinks there is a big red button to remove throttling on and individual connection is sadly mistaken, I fear), but he told me to make a formal written complaint to the following address:

Telewest Broadband
Evolution House
1 Chippingham Street
Attercliffe
Sheffield
S9 3SE

and he assured me they take complaints very seriously. Now fair play to the lad, he was as nice and as helpful as he could possibly be and he even admitted that I knew more about it than he had done or his managers. He was also most apologetic that it had taken so long to get this simple (if blunt and rather unpalatable) answer. VM have not even had the decency to warn and train their own staff on this matter which has lead to half-truths, myths and downright lies about how these limits have always existed but not been publicised. As a result I have spent 2 hours on the phone trying to get to the bottom of it, I have spoken to 5 differnet people who have, in turn, spoken to the same number again while I was on hold. What a monumental waste of time. VM have tried to slip this though on the quiet because they want to penalise the lower packages in order to make their headline grabbing packages seem even better. As someone else has said, how can they now advertise their broadband as having no limits when it clearly does?

I really don't see why I should be penalised for taking advantage of new technologies that allow me to view tv over the web. That's what they all want isn't it? For us all to be using broadband to watch tv and access digital media services? But the second we do so we get punished.

Now much as I dislike conspiracy theories, it does seem a bit too neat that this has come into force at the same time 10Mbit packages have been upgraded to 20Mbit. This in itself is a bit annoying because 4Mbit and 2Mbit packages aren't being upgraded as far as I can see so 20Mbit users, theoretically, get 5 times the service for just 50% more dosh. Hmmm. Could it be they are desperate for everyone to upgrade? Don't they see that if everyone upgraded then the problems would just be worse? As for the new 50Mbit package, what's the point? Will that be subject to traffic shaping too? If so, what will the threshold be be and what will the throttled speed be? I can't see anyone who's shelling out a mooted £55/month for that service being too happy when their shiny new connection gets the life squeezed out of it.

Me? Well, I'll be writing to them with a formal and strongly worded complaint. I'm not happy at all, and I suggest anyone else who is affected by this, thinks they might be or just objects on principal does so too because we can whing all we want on forums but VM will not takwe the slightest bit of notice unless people actually complain formally to them in writing. Take the few minutes and the cost of an envelope and stamp and maybe, just maybe, if enough of us do it they will realise that people are annoyed enough to make a bit of effort and start paying attention to the people that pay their wages. Us.

Whoa! Watch the bandwagon.

You may or may not be aware of some legal nonsense going on in the States whereby the AACS-LA has decided that even putting up a particular 128 bit hexadecimal integer on your website which so happens to be the same as one of their randomly chosen HD-DVD encryption keys is illegal. Their premise? They claim that the DMCA makes it illegal for anyone to reproduce this number without their permission, which they won't give, because it can be used to circumvent the DRM. But there's a good reason for having this number, not least of which is that it's a number so how the hell can you claim ownership of it? That's like me saying zero belongs to me and anyone wanting to use it must pay me a royalty. Such a claim would be treated with the disdain it so richly deserves so why one earth is anyone in the legal profession even entertaining this idiotic notion? Well, OK, the AACS-LA lawyers are no doubt getting paid a very large sum of money so I'm sure for enough cash they will entertain all manner of stupid ideas, but beyond that, why?

But there's more. The AACS-LA say that this particular number is just one of many encryption keys and thus it owns the rights to a whole bunch of other numbers (the quantity of value was unspecified I believe) and using them would be naughty too. They haven't just said this in a statement; they are making this claim in a lawsuit against websites which have published the number at the heart of all this silliness.

Enter Ed Felten, a professor at Princeton. He has come up with a genius idea which allows everyone to own an integer and if his system issues 2^128 numbers then we could, based on the AACS-LA premise, sue them for using our numbers. My number is

79 6E E4 46 10 72 DF 11 1F 55 E4 2C 0C 63 8D 0A

so keep your greasy mitss off it or I'll sue!!

There is a serious side to all this - Felten is pointing out the absurdity of someone claiming to own a number. The reason why this is such a big deal is that the number in question is a key which allows the DRM on HD-DVD discs to be circumvented. You might think "Well people shouldn't be trying to make illegal copies or be buying pirates so what's the problem?" but unless you circumvent the DRM these discs often will not play on a standard PC. If you own a legitimately bought disc then it is no business of the copyright owner as to what device you use to view it and so they have no business blocking your usage of the disc in a PC.

Sadly, the American legal system appears to be so weighted in favour of the utter paranoia employed by corporations in order to protect their interests (read: cash cows) that there's a chance they might actually win this nonsensical argument. So, sicne there's not really a lot we can do about it, I think everyone should get their own number (or maybe a few) from Felten's kindly provided system and then maybe set an example by licensing it with a Creative Commons Sharealike License which means you grant anyone and evryone the right to use your number(s), as this chap has.

The number above is mine, all mine, but the following numbers:

8C BC 03 EA 37 95 33 F3 7E DB 93 85 D3 E4 8F C4
24 CA FB 2A CE 25 15 E5 21 1A CE 56 B0 80 69 F9
5F 58 D1 4F 47 C1 A0 1F B7 88 A8 15 B4 77 8D 70
15 53 D2 0D 8E 12 28 4E 48 01 83 0C 56 69 19 CC

You can do what you like with under the CCSA license. Have a ball.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Beaten to it

Well, it would seem that the Reactable as seen in my last post is available for purchase (although I still have no idea how much it is). And who else would you expect to be using one but short Icelandic mentalist Björk, who used one in conjunction with a lot of other expensive goodies during her set at Coachella.

Fans of the enigmatic Icelander will be pleased to know that she has a new album out in May this year. Her official site can be found here.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Music made fun

Now, I like to play the guitar a bit. I played piano and drums when I was a kid and I fancy myself as a bit of a DJ. All of which make me want this multi-user synth very, very much. I'd have to save for a bit though as I reckon it'd be a bit pricey. Perhaps I could sell some interal organs or something?

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Iffy layout

You will have to excuse me if this page appears a bit odd looking for a bit. As a recent convert to Opera (the browser, not the musical stylings of Wagner, Puccini et al), I realised it was high time I actually got off my arse and fixed the stylesheet for this site so that it actually worked in browsers other than IE. It's almost there but there are one or two little gremlins that need to be ruthlessly hunted down and taken out the back to be beaten to death. Normal service will resume shortly.

Alan Johnston

Still no word on the fate of BBC journo Alan Johnston. Help add to the pressure on parties who have influence in the region and sign the petition calling for his release. No hostage in this area has been held for so long or with this little information. Such acts only serve to harm the Palestinian cause, a fact not lost on the vast majority of Palestinians, who have been extremely vocal and pro-active in expressing their displeasure and disgust at this kidnapping. The very least we can do is add to that growing chorus of dismay.

By all account Johnston is a well thought of jounalist by the Palestinians themselves as well as his BBC colleagues and collegaues in other news agencies around the world. I hope you will spare a thought for his family. I certainly will.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Making your own luck

Is it possible do you think? Making your own luck? In the last few days I think this has happened to me twice. Firstly, for some days I had the strange feeling that a bird was going to launch a turd at me from on high. This hasn't happened to me for years and somehow I felt as if I'd been dodging it for so long it was bound to happen; law of averages maybe. Anyway, for several days I was wary of birds flying overhead, especially pigeons, of which there are plenty round here, and sea gulls when I went for a day trip to the beach on Easter Saturday.

I don't like seagulls. They have mad, staring red eyes and are bloody vicious when the mood takes them. It was a seagull that launched a sloppy one at me last time, all over a new (and much prized) T shirt while on holiday in Devon with a mate. The mention of this incident still cracks up my mate as we had just been fishing off the rocks and I was wearing clumpy steel toe capped boots. The sight of me chasing after the offending gull, swearing blue murder and trying to boot it's bloody head off was too much for him (I'd like to apologise to anyone who was around at the time with kids as my language was exceptionally unsavoury. Pretty unlikely they'll be reading this but it's the thought that counts).

On Easter Sunday I decided that since it was a nice day I would take my book (Diaries 1969-1979 - The Python Years by Michael Palin, if you're interested) and go and find a quiet spot in the botanical gardens for a bit of a read in the sun. This I duly did and come 5 o'clock or so, I decided to wander home through the rest of the park. I'd almost left the park when all of a sudden I feel a thud on my shoulder. Yes, that's right, some scabrous bloody pigeon parked it's van load on my T shirt. I guess it could have been worse as a few inches to the right it would have been on my head and I was able to clean off the worst of it in some nearby public conveniences (which were absolutely foul, by the way. BANES council you should be ashamed to have such filthy facilities serving a huge kids play area and park). Luckily, given the proximity of large numbers of kids, I stopped myself from swearing too loudly, although a small boy nearby did look my way when I uttered a very rude word under my breath, or so I thought: I had my headphones in at the time so it may have been louder than intended.

Anyway, example number two was regarding my back. I occasionally get muscle spasm in my back which can last from a few hours to a few days and it is absolutely crippling. All you can do is take pain killers and stretch a bit. I hadn't had an attack for well over a year and I had recently got the ominous feeling that I was overdue for a bout and sure enough, this morning I felt the familiar tightening across the back muscles just above the kidneys. Sometimes it is so bad that you can barely breathe when in the middle of a spasm but I have been stamping on it with a mixture of ibuprofen and codeine.

So, there you have it: two occurrences in two days. Coincidence or is it really the case that you make your own luck and by thinking these things would happen they did happen? As a scientist, the answer to me is clearly that it's just the way it goes, and as an eternal pessimist in some ways I always expect the worst and so I am rarely disappointed (but often happily pleased when something turns out better than expected. Better than being an optimist and always being disappointed I've always felt). Still, it doesn't change the fact that one is annoying and the other is sodding painful!

Listening to: Grant Lee Buffalo - Fuzzy

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Unbelievable...

Speaks for itself really...

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

New game, old issues

this week, I have been mostly playing...Command and Conquer 3 from EA Games. Whilst its a good game, in true EA style after only 5 days of being on general release there have already been three patches one of which is to fix the patch updater.

However, this is not the most annoying aspect, oh no. This comes from actually installing the patches because once you do, then it can stuff the odious copy protection system (SecuRom) so that when you try and start the game you get an error message: A required security module could not be activated. This program cannot be executed (5024). Well, ladies and gents, it seems that the patch does something which makes SecuRom not work with even more systems than normal (it has a habit of arbitrarily not working with some devices anyway and interestingly it is made by none other than DRM uber-weenies Sony, who have a less than sterling track record with this kind of stuff - they ended up in court).

So what's the problem? Well, it seems that the common link in all this (and my own empiric observations support this) is that if you run SysInternals Process Explorer (a much more feature rich replacement for Windows task manager which is now owned and distributed by Microsoft themselves) BEFORE you try and start the game, then this causes SucuRom to fail and thus the game to fail. The only solution is to reboot your system.

Yes, that's right, EA have managed to stop a huge number of legitimate gamers who have paid hard earned cash for their fully legal copy of the game from playing if they use a perfectly legal and freely available piece of software from the biggest software house in the world before firing up the game. Genius.

Talk about alienating your customers...

Monday, April 02, 2007

Vanity

A while ago I started to wonder if anyone was reading my blog. Not that I'd have stopped if they weren't, but you can't help getting curious to know if anyone is reading your rants/drivel/philosophical musings so I've been tracking some basic info using Statcounter and to be honest, I'm amazed at the restuls. Now I'm hardly going to win awards for the amount of traffic on the site and I know I have a couple of regular reader who are friends of mine, one of whom is based in Hong Kong, but I have had a truly global readership so far.

Granted most of the hits are probably random (i.e. I've been lucky enough to be on the Blogger front page somewhere or linked from another blog as the 'Next Blog' link or something) but it's kinda cool to think that people in all these places might actually get a giggle out of my stuff. OK, so without people leaving comments it's hard to tell but assuming that people are reading your stuff is the basic and essential vanity of the blogger. For some reason I seem to be popular in China (probably getting crawled by the state firewalls and blacklisted as an evil capitalist!) and I can't help thinking the Peruvian, Polish and Kuwaiti hits were accidental ones but it does make the map look more impressive. All I need now is Russia, the subcontinent, the Antipodes and, the creme de la creme, Antarctica (although this might be a bit ambitious).

Oh well you never know. Africa would be good too although I suspect most people in Africa have better things to do than read the ramblings of a middle class 30-something from the UK so fair do's on that one really.

By the way, don't panic - the stats I collect are private and do not identify you. I'm only interested in seeing if I get hits, how many and where from. Believe me, working in IT you tend to be far more mindful of online privacy than most and I don't much like my data being collected so I make damn sure I can't get anyone else's.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Quality programming...

I'm half watching the BBC's Castaway at the moment and there's a new arrival on the island - a cow. It arrived overnight so when one girl went out of the hut early for some reason she was the first to see it in the field. The cow moos at her and she rushes back into the hut with a look of consternation on her face. She wakes a couple of the other inhabitants and tells them: "You know down at the bottom of the hill...there's a horse!".

How the fuck can you not know the difference between a cow (which has just mooed at you) and a horse? They are, for the most part, the most imbecilic, vacuous pillocks I have seen outside of a Channel 4 production. Give me strength...

I know that face...

For a while now it's been bugging me that the girl from the Bradford and Bingley advert looks very familiar. Yesterday I twigged - she's a Spong Monkey!

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

A net gain

I know - that's a really crap pun, but I got my fishing nets back. The guilty party had, it seems, simply slung them into the garden behind ours but they were near enough behind a shed (ironically enough) so I didn't see them until they were moved. I went round to get them this evening and it turns out the house owner is the same kind soul who, when they spotted the shed being broken into first time round, rang Plod and told them where to catch a tea leaf red-handed. Which they did.

However, this chap told me this evening that the police couldn't actually prosecute him. "Why not?" I asked, a not unreasonable question given that he was caught bang to rights. Apparently, despite the fact that this chap saw it happen and the police caught the light-fingered git with the stolen bike, they could not prosecute because there was only one witness. I was utterly astounded: What the hell is the point of having a court system when it won't prosecute because the crime wasn't witnessed by two priests, a JP and several sober citizens of good standing? It's absolutely ludicrous. This means that anyone can burgle, rob and generally be a pain in the arse and it won't matter if someone sees them or even if Plod catch them with their ill-gotten gains because you won't get prosecuted if only one person saw you. Completely crackers.

So, after being banged up for Christmas (some small justice at least as it meant he couldn't go and pinch some poor kids Christmas present to exchange for a small amount of skag cut with oven cleaner) he was turfed out onto the streets to carry on being an anti-social menace. Don't you just love how the law really works to protect us from criminal activity? It's no wonder so many coppers now have well-read blogs because it's the only way they can vent their total frustration with a system ill-prepared to cope with any actual crime fighting and entirely centred around being culturally aware, being able to spot a diversity (whatever that is) and generating vast amounts of paper in order to prove that crime rates are falling thanks to the latest government fiddle. I mean initiative.

Marvellous. Well, thank you and goodnight.

Listening to: The Rakes - 22 Grand Job

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Why should I put up with this?

I have just come back from a weekend away and after a long but comfortable drive I had had it in mind to write something about cars and such like. Sadly, when I got home I found out that our shed has been broken into for the second time in 3 months. Somehow, I no longer feel like talking about cars.

Several things, apart from the obvious, piss me off about this. For a kick off, there are several other sheds in the gardens around mine, all of them just as accessible as mine and probably with more stuff in them so why was mine targeted? Not that I'd wish it on my neighbours but why mine? To get to it you have to walk down a muddy alley way between the backs of two rows of houses and it's the last (and most exposed) shed of the lot so why pick it?

Next up, there is a window in the shed so you can see that the only things in it are some old tiles, a cheap mower and my old fishing gear so again, why bother breaking in? There is nothing worth stealing.

Thirdly, I live in a nice area. It's not a slum or rough in any way. In fact it's quite cosmopolitan with a range of people from students to pensioners covering professionals, families and so on. Where are these scumbags coming from? It's true that Bath has a lot of skag heads about but this is a pretty low-crime area.

The other things that annoy me about this: My housemates were in all night last night so the prick who did it did so with no regard to being caught. There is no point telling the Police because whilst I'm sure they'll come round and we'll get a crime number, there's not a lot they can really do about it unless we catch the fucker in the act and even then we have to rely on them getting here in time (although they did last time and caught the scrote red-handed so much kudos to my local constabulary for that. Sadly, he probably got a mild ticking off by the magistrate and told not to do it again and I strongly suspect that in fact it was the same contemptuous little turd who came back this time). The only thing this feckless shit actually succeeded in doing was to throw our cheapo mower out onto the lawn, break the door, rip a corner column from a set of cheap wooden shelves in the shed and throw it into the back alley and, it would appear, steal my net bag. This bag contained my landing and keep nets for fishing and frankly, they smell a bit rough, are covered in crap and are worth precisely fuck all so exactly what was the point of this other than mindless vandalism?

Whoever it was did drop their cigarette lighter but I don't think Old Bill are likely to want to fingerprint it. I am sick and tired of the ignorant attitude of these miserable, parasitic arseholes who know full well that they can do as they please and get away with it and it is the law abiding portion of society who, as usual, suffer. If I caught whoever it was at it, I would quite frankly beat them senseless because I have a relatively short fuse for this sort of thing and I would not hesitate to exact my revenge but of course then I'd be the one getting locked up (although I imagine that I could argue that I felt threatened and had used reasonable force to defend myself but it is a system that is totally stacked in favour of the thieving cretin. Perhaps if we were actually allowed to give these turds the hiding they so richly deserve they might think twice about doing it in the first place. Who knows?)

I'm sure there are plenty of liberals, social workers and other feeble minded morons who would say that it wasn't the perp's fault and it was all down to their upbringing. Well that's bullshit. You have to completely retarded to not know that stealing is wrong and illegal and they know full well what they're doing. This liberal mumbo-jumbo horseshit that says we should be nice to criminals has been proven not to work because we have more petty crime than ever before. Thieving pikeys know only too well that the criminal justice system will do no more than give them a bit of a telling off and that even if they do get sentenced to a week in jail, or whatever ludicrous sentence is handed out, it'll be a doddle. They'll have access to TV, porn, pool tables, gyms, the lot, all paid for by John Q Taxpayer, so we get arse fucked twice: Once when they steal, vandalise and otherwise harass us and then a second time when they live the life of Riley at our expense in a holiday camp.

Now, I am just livid and the worst thing is I know that there is not a damn thing I can do about it. Why should I go out and work my arse off, as I have done for years, so that I can enjoy the fruits of my labours only to have some rat boy, who is no doubt doing very nicely out of the benefits system once again at our expense, come and steal and vandalise my stuff and for me to have no recourse whatsoever? Can you tell me how it is that that seems like a fair system? Can anyone explain why it is that I should have to stand by and watch as petty thieves, junkies and junior yobs run riot without any respect for anyone or anything especially the rule of law or a fear of the consequences? No, thought not.

For me, our current government embodies everything I hate and despise about this country with it's slimy, lying, ineffectual policies and the total inability to actually do something positive for the vast majority of law abiding ordinary citizens. I used to vote Tory in the nineties but then once Major was outed I stopped because what was left was an assortment of half-arsed idiots who I wouldn't have trusted to sit on the toilet the right way round. I moved to the Lib Dems but then Paddy Ashdown left and they became a joke party who might as well have their underpants on their heads because they certainly couldn't muster up enough gumption to make a decent fist of running the country, or indeed any policies that made any sense.

So where does that leave me? I suppose, given my rant here about idiotic liberal policies and leftist social workers I should be heading back to the right of centre (quite some way right of centre in terms of the criminal justice system) but I can't bring myself to vote Tory again. David Cameron? Please, the man is nothing more than a chinless, braying ex-public school yahoo with nary a decent idea in his head. The Tories have this notion that if they have younger cabinet members then somehow it makes them more relevant and electable, but the idea of George Osborne and Oliver Letwin having any kind of power scares me silly because they're just as smarmy, moronic and self-interested as Cameron and indeed the Blair government.

No, I think what this country needs is a return to real fire and brimstone politicians who mean what they say, do what they say they're going to do and don't fanny about with these idiotic bureaucratic measures that just cripple our public services and the country in general. While I have never been a fan of the left nor of the unions I would have voted for Labour with John Smith at the helm without hesitation because the man was a direct thinker and had a no-bullshit approach to politics. Politics doesn't need the smarm and the media whoring - it needs integrity and common bloody sense.

It's worth remembering that left wing governments have done some good things in the past (there have also been some which were diabolical and made a mess of the country but that applies to the right as well). The NHS is one example that springs to mind, and once upon a time, they would have been just as tough on criminals as the right wing governments. Why on earth do we have to be driven by bleeding heart liberals now? Screw the Human Rights Act - if you commit a criminal act worthy of serious punishment then you have suspended any entitlement you might have had to anything more than the basic requirements of life because in committing a crime, you have most likely denied the rights of someone else. Get used to it. Not that I'd advocate a return to Victorian conditions but TV's in cells? Sorry but why should I pay to provide that? I would happily pay for effective drug rehabilitation schemes, education and the like but if you won't play ball then you should be shackled into a chain gang and made to break rocks and then locked into your cell whenever you're not breaking rocks. As for anyone caught with drugs in jail or smuggling them in or distributing them, they should be immediately placed in solitary for a long time because they have no right to fuck up someone else's chances of being rehabilitated.

Prison is about two things: Punishment and rehabilitation. Rehabilitation is not achieved by being soft. It is achieved by being strict, instilling discipline, respect and pride. Getting someone off drugs and getting them some education and maybe training so that they can become a useful member of society - that's rehabilitation, but pandering to the whims of recidivist scum is not punishment. Nor are the pitiful sentences handed out these days.

Anyway, I could go on about this for a very long time now that I'm fired up, and indeed I already have but it would be rather pointless - I have have put my point across now and would only be raking over the coals of many other columnists who are better writers than I or who are directly involved with criminal justice such as David Copperfield (who has both those bases covered), so I'll pack it in before I become too bitter or start foaming at the mouth.

Until next time readers (all three of you: Big up to Amanda, Andy and Rob).