Bloody computers

I have three computers that are working after a fashion and nowhere to put them. That will be fixed shortly as I have acquired a desk from work that was going to be put into a skip. It was deemed as being too small to work on, so was replaced by a huge thing that has half an acre of working area. However, as my flat is tiny, a small desk is perfect.

Meanwhile....

At work I have about half a day's work to do and the best part of a day and a half to do it but the iMac has decided to play silly sods and keeps crashing. I open a browser... crash. I open my email... crash. I sneeze too loudly... crash. I think it knows that I am leaving and has decided to go on strike. Not that I actually care a flying fart. I can't remember the last time I was so looking forward to unemployment. This could be something to do with the way the boss has gone off on annual leave without even bothering to say cheerio, or thanks for all your work, or anything. Or it might be the way that I have been given the shittiest jobs to do (like the ones that you'd be embarrassed to ask the office junior to do as a favour) and has had life and death importance put upon them. I've worked late, I've worked weekends and all I've had in return is complaints that tasks aren't being done quickly enough. The only problem with not working is the lack of money, but if the worst came to the worst I could always move back to Manchester and become a lady of leisure, or get my other half to finance me through a degree of something. So even that isn't too bad, I suppose.

Fun with computers

Got up relatively early on Saturday. Okay so 9:45 isn't that early, but seeing as I hadn't gone to bed till about 3:30am I think I did well. A friend came around at 10:00 and we went off to Maplin's to get one of their motherboard/CPU/fan offers. We also got a case and a few other bits and pieces. Walked home with purchases, stopping off at Henderson's for lunch (giant potato, spinach and cheese croquette, with a three of the salads on the side and a nice big glass of fresh fruit smoothie to wash it down - yummm).

Arrived home inspected purchases, and took existing computers off line. Opened up the boxes to see what was where and decide what additional bits were needed (not much). Friend had some things to do at his home so we went to the cash point for more dosh, on to another computer shop for the missing bits (RAM, hard drive, ect) and we each went to our respective homes.

Friend came around later and we built the new machine, set it up to install the OS and set up my old machine so that we could transfer the data from one to the other. At that point we called it a night.

Sunday wasn't such an early start (about noon). Friend has a machine that is in a half size case and is running out of room , whereas I am going to have a firewall machine with next to nothing in a full size case, so we were going to swap them over.

Problem one

Both machines are old, but not of exactly the same vintage so whilst my stuff would happy go into his case, his wouldn't go into mine (power supply cables were different). We thought about swapping the power supplies but the switch on one wouldn't work in the other case.

Put everything back and then my power supply unit failed completely. Not a problem I have a spare. We balance the spare PSU on the case and wired it up, the machine booted okay. So we swapped it for the broken supply. At this point the newly installed supply decided not to work. Anyway it was Sunday, it was late, and I had work today so we left it.

I set up what was my old machine (and is now going to be a windows (games) machine) and started playing Command and Conquer to relax before bed only to discover

Problem Two

The CDROM is cutting out intermittently. It was working fine right through the first mission but then just died, causing the game and by extention the machine to crash. I rebooted and this time the CD wasn't even detected, three attempts later it recognised the CD and spat the disk out but when I closed the tray it had decided that the disk wasn't there again.

The result is that I now have three machines that are currently about as much use as door stops and no time till next weekend to get things up and running. It seems that whoever said that computers were going to make life easier was lying.

Ha!

Last night I went to the pub. She who is trying to make out that she is being maligned behaved as though my being there had spoilt her whole night. Went to the pub tonight she stood on her own at the bar having done a u-turn upon seeing me. Do I look like someone who cares? Yeah your right.

It's getting to the point where she is looking like a complete prat, and people are actually noticing this and commenting that she is behaving like a five year old. And I just sit there and smile and ignore her. You see I have learned that I can hold my own with people, I don't need to make other people look small to make myself look big. I grant that I have a nasty temper that wise people do not get on the wrong side of. More importantly, I've decided that I am going to have a social life and if some psychotic attention seeker wants to fantasize about my being a threat to them then okay. If they want to lie about me - fine. I know the truth, the people that know me know the truth, and it isn't actually hurting me. The person who is behaving like a brain dead twat is on the other hand starting to get bad press as people notice the stupidity. Lets face it, if you insist on being the center of attention when you're actually a complete bore, people tend to be glad to see the back of you.

I knew it!

Got the letter telling me that I hadn't got the job I was interviewed for.

Shall I just slit my wrists now and be done with it?

Poo!

Got a letter from the University today. I had a feeling that it was a rejection letter, so took a couple of deep breaths prior to opening it, and guess what, it was. However, it was telling me that I hadn't been invited for interview for one of the posts I'd applied for, which is good news I suppose, though I'm still waiting for news of the job I was interviewed for. I'm not holding my breath though.

Not a great deal I can say. Great march, excellent turnout (though the police estimated down the numbers - again). Noticed that Plod thought that the American Express shop and the McDonald's next door to it needed special protection (????). Met lots of people I knew, made some new contacts. Generally had a good time, whilst letting it be known that I oppose the illegal and immoral actions that Blair is forcing upon our troops. The biggest surprise was as we were going up Lothian Road, a group went through the barriers and totally blockaded the road. Unfortunately by the time I was at the spot Plod was stopping more people joining and so after a bit of deliberation most of the people at the back of the march carried on toward the Meadows. The march was really spread out at this point. A couple of the drivers stuck in the traffic were sounding their car horns and giving us the thumbs up. Many more were waving and giving the thumbs up sign. A group of young people on a bus started cheering and chanting. I suddenly realised that whilst the govt are busy saying that the protesters are a vocal minority, there are many more people out there who are against this madness that just don't want to get involved with the marches. I can understand it to a point.

These anti-war demo's, like all others end up being hijacked by other groups who want to make their cause visible, so there are the inevitable speeches that are nothing to do with the issue we were protesting. But, hey, that's all part of the fun, though I do wish that the organisers would realise how it alienates people.

Walked home, stopping off at Waterstones where I spent too much money (I know, it's traditional), but the end result was that I was in bed reading till about 5 am (Fatherland - Robert Harris been promising myself that I would read that for at least the last five years) and so didn't get out of bed till past noon. Of course, that has lead to the usual tired clumsiness, so I now have a wound on the back of my ankle that is gushing blood, and a laminate wooden floor that is going to need a going over with the mop. Hope it heals for the next march.

After complaining of the massacre in Iraq whilst waiting for my curry at the local carry out, (exactly what is the military significance of a museum dedicated to the life of a country's leader), I was surprised to be given a gift of The Quran by one of the members of staff. I thanked him politely, and left without knowing what else to say. No hard sell "this is the only true religion" stuff that you get from the likes of the Jehovah's Witnesses,etc. Just the simple words "Please accept this as a gift from me to you".

Strangely touching.

WOW!

Having been up most of the night being mostly shocked by the news footage of Baghdad being blanket bombed, I slept in and missed the beginning of the anti-war march. Got into town and managed to duck in as it was crossing the top of Leith Street. Met a few new people and had some nice chats about various issues, made a few new contacts. There was apparently a scuffle somewhere at the back of the march and a few people were arrested, though the reports from many witnesses were that the people arrested were doing nothing and that the police were heavy handed using batons. A police officer who spoke to the crowd said that the arrests were for minor incidents and that the people would be processed and released shortly. However, by the time we had heard all the speakers no one had been released to it was decided that we would all move on and block the junction of Princes Street, Lothian Road, Shandwick Place. That turned into an open mike and a bit of a party. Met up with and and had an interesting discussion and planning session for next weekends protest.

Crowd then all moved on to St Leonard Police Station to demand the release of the arrested people.
Police tried to keep stopping the march at various junctions and to direct the route of the march but the marchers were having none of that. The police horses were great. They went virtually all the way over the bridges backwards and horses do not normally like doing that. Anyway we finally got to the police station, the crowd settled down for a long wait and the banter began.

An example:

Protester 1: I want to see Inspector Rebus
Protester 2: Is he the Rankin officer? [1]

After a while as it was getting dark and I hadn't eaten much, I decided that home would be a good idea. And now I am waiting with a mixture of excitement and dread over the action that I have volunteered myself for next week because when I told my mother I was protesting, she told me not to get myself arrested. Of course, she did then tell me not to go hitting any more policemen, so I suppose that she thinks hitting policewomen will be fine. Well okay maybe not.

[1] For those who don't know Inspector Rebus is the central character in a series of crime novels by Ian Rankin. They are set in Edinburgh and have Rebus based at St Leonards Police Station.

Anti-War Protests

I was just sent a post on a mailing list about a feminist protest plan. Full details follow, though it's not one for the narrow-minded.

Tampons for Peace

Against the war in Iraq? SEND BUSH A TAMPON!

From March 15th to April 1st, people all over the country are going to send President Bush a tampon that has been dyed red (with marker, paint, food coloring, anything but actual blood--that would be a biohazard...) along with the message:

"YOU WANT BLOOD?

HAVE SOME BLOOD.

FEMINISTS AGAINST THE WAR.

~
By sending these tampons we are saying that just as we won't be silent about our bodies, we won't be silent about our opposition to this war. Silence is compliance. Silence is undemocratic. We make a connection between blood shed for life and the blood our supposed enemies shed in death. We say not by our blood, not in the name of the American people."

Get your friends together for a tampon staining party--it'll be fun *and* productive! Try to mail your tampons in the second half of March (the earlier the better, but any time is okay) to The White House / 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW / Wash, DC 20500.

That way President Bush can absorb the heavy flow of anti-war sentiment!

I thought it might be fun to do something similar, but then I remembered that the Government charge VAT on "women's hygiene products" so they still be making revenue out of the protest.

Could still be worth it though.

Dammit. I'd forgotten how much fun civil disobedience can be

Ahem!

Arrived late yesterday evening for what turned out to be a very enjoyable anti-war march. Met lots of new people, got hugs and email addresses from people I've never met before and have generally started networking. Was pointedly ignored by the person who I've had the altercation with. Notice that I was blocked from accessing their LJ, and the rumour mill is that there were nasty and potentially untrue comments made. Of course, because I wasn't able to see them and the rumour mill suggested that these entries have now been deleted, I can't comment on what I was told they said. I'm just left thinking that it's bloody typical of this person. Always been known as an attention seeking backstabber.

And so It begins...

The deadline has passed and now there is the uneasy calm waiting for the first bombs to start dropping on Baghdad, and the woman giving the weather forecast is prattling on about having nice enough weather to sit out in the garden over the weekend. I am screaming at the screen to shut up and doesn't she know that hundreds, possibly thousands of people will be dead by then. There is a world wide alert of possible terrorist attacks against British citizens. And I feel guilty, that there is something I could have done to stop this. I know it's a stupid sentiment, I've done what I can. I've lobbied my MP and given praise when he voted against the government, I've bunked off work to go on marches, I've been on the candlelit vigil and signed on-line petitions, but it hasn't been enough.

It's depressing.

An interesting and strangely appropriate quotation

I'm on quite a few mailing lists and today from one list (KabbalahConcepts) I received a post as follows:

"Hate to hurt.....

Conquer the will to kill.....

Revenge is wrong.....

Be fearful of being brutal.....

Force ferocity to be subdued.....

Cruelty is something we recognize so easily as a physical activity,
yet find so hard to identify in its finer but no less dangerous forms.
It is essentially a misuse of power by a strong entity toward a weaker
one on the same plane of action.....

Cruelty is only possible as a calculated discharge of destructive
energy directed at feebler creatures unlikely to retaliate
effectively.....

The motivation of cruelty is commonly again the artificial
ego-enlargement resultant from its practice.....

If we can make others frightened of us we seem larger by comparison to
their shrinking. That is the secret of cruelty. A false sense of boost
because of aggressive action which appears to avoid injurious
reprisals. To hurt and kill some helpless and defenseless creature
makes cruel people feel enormously powerful by contrast.....

Nobody hates being hurt more than those who hurt with hate.....

Let those who think they could not be cruel examine what conscience
they have within their own life-frameworks."

- William G. Gray (The Tree of Evil)


I was struck by how much this sums up my feelings. Bush is a bully, his country has been hurt and humiliated and as a bully he cannot accept this. His abhorrence of his country being hurt goes so far as to be hatred. It is this hatred that is in turn turned outward to other counties. 9/11 made him turn to the Taliban in Afghanistan, and so the might of the US military bombed the people a bit further into the stone-age that had been caused by years of conflict with the Soviet Union and subsequent neglect under the Talibs. Having seen the Afghan regime crumble under the weight of US munitions, Bush looked around at who else he could bully, and there was Iraq. I expect in Bush's mind Saddam had humiliated his daddy, and so the hatred grew and with the puffed up chest of a bully who has won one playground battle, he starts his next campaign. And so Iraq will be destroyed.

Which leaves one question.

Who will be next?

It won't be the UK as Tony Blair is following along like the smarmy little kid who held the bully's coat while the schoolyard beatings took place, giving the sly kick now and again to ingratiate himself further with his master. But just like in the playground, when this current war is over everyone will be looking over their shoulders, because to a cruel bully on a winning streak everyone is a target.

Many thanks to Jacobus Swart for allowing me to use his post

United States of Terrorists

I said some time ago that it was the USA and UK govts that were the real terrorists in this soon to be fought war. So it is with mixed feelings that I point you to this link about the proposed campaign plan from the US military. Why do I feel like this is just a bad dream and if only I could wake up everything would be okay?

139 Labour MP's rebel against the Govt

The full list of MP's who voted against the Govt in the war vote last night are listed on the BBC's website.

It's surprising the number of big names that are on there, like Diane Abbot, Tony Banks and Robin Cook. There are also a couple of names I wouldn't have expected to see. I worked with the Labour Party in Leeds many years ago and some of the MP's from that area I know from when they were City and Met County Councillors (that kind of dates it - Thatcher abolished the Met Counties with the GLC, but I digress). Whilst some like John Battle have disappointed me over the past few years with the way they seemed to have forgotten what Labour principles were about, others have lived up to their past image of being little more that political up-suckers, changing their stance to whatever is likely to get another rung higher on the political ladder.

Well I have been surprised. I have to take back my bad mouthing about John Battle, he showed that he has maintained some integrity after all. Most surprising was Jon "How can I turn this to my advantage" Trickett. This is a man who would made the stereotypical used car salesmen look honest and respectable. I'd never have expected him to rebel against the govt in a million years, cash in on the misfortunes of those who get sidelined by rebelling yes, but to see his name in the list of rebels - well I nearly fell off my chair.

I also noticed that Claire Short's name was conspicuous by it's absence from the list. I think she should have resigned when she threatened to, because now she is a political laughing stock and no one will take her seriously. Damn and I was hoping that she would make a challenge for the party leadership. Shows how wrong I was.

Somebody clearly doesn't like the truth to be told. I'm suddenly barred from their LJ so that they can bitch behind my back. Just that persons style.Whereas if I have a bitch it's in public for all to see. Hey I might just really set the cat amongst the pidgeons and let the whole world know the sordid little secrets.

Okay so it's sinking down to that person's lack of morals, but hey I have nothing to loose, whereas they...

Oh Gawd please no!

I appears my feeling grot is nothing to do with the beer. I'm been progressively turning down the brightness of my iMac's screen till it's now as low as it goes yet it is still too bright. I can't deal with noise, and now I'm starting to see blotches of light that are blinding me.

Yikes it looks like it's a migrane

WTF?

Candlelit Vigil was cool, met up with some folks from work, and later with Steve. Went to the pub for food and beer. I only had two pints of Stella yet this morning I have a headache that would imply I'd drunk a hell of a lot more. It seems that suddenly I can't hold my beer. This is not good.

Apparently, the person that I've fallen out with is unsocialised and a bad liar. Yes, this person took the old tale that lying is bad to the point were they think that even the "diplomatic white lies" are a sign of hypocracy.

Yes?? Then why is it that I have caught this person out in some real whoppers, and a discussion tonight has revealed that other people have caught the person out in equally big porkies too. Including the one where said person was telling everyone that the live in partner knew all about the affaires and didn't mind, when of course the opposite was true. Hell, I even provided alibis at one point and after the partner threw a wobbly over one "fling" I had to have the "lover" staying with me. I could cite more.

But tell me is this the behaviour of someone who is so taken with the idea that lying is bad that they cannot lie at all?

Nah, didn't think so.

Oh Deity

In the backlash of a home truths saga, I've just hit out at a friend. Not a really good close friend but someone who is getting there (it takes a long time for me to consider anyone trustworthy enough to make the transistion from acquaintance to friend and it's even harder for friend's to make it up to "good" or "best" friend - I suppose that comes from having so called friends doing the dirty too many times in the past.) Anyway, this friend seems to be trying to get me to be friends with another of his friends, whereas my gut instincts are that I don't want this other person knowing I exist much less getting to know them, and it seems to have hit a raw nerve or something. To cut a long (and personal) story short, I ended up bursting into tears and screaching down the phone like some demented banshee about how crap my life is and how I wish I was dead, and other things. And now I think I have totally scared the poor guy off because, lets face it, who in their right mind is going to invest time in showing that they are trustworthy to a hysterical woman, just you can say that she's a mate.

So now I really, really wish I were dead

French Miltary Victories

I've just been on the phone to my long suffering other half, who has been told of "The Whole Sorry Affair" or at least the bits that concern me. Of course this turned out to be a very long phone call with emails being read to him in their entirety. His opinion is that I have every right to be upset over some of the things that have been said, that the excuses that are being put forward for the other person's behaviour is a load of bullshit, that I am right in thinking that said other person is playing for sympathy and is generally being selfish, arrogant and rude, and that no I am not over-reacting.

Anyway to cheer me up he pointed me to something.

Go to Google and search for french military victories. Click on the button that says I'm feeling lucky and see what comes up.

It made me smile for all of 2 seconds, which is an achievement considering my mood.

Life? Don't talk to me about life

I wish I was anywhere other than where I am today. I wish I was anyone other than who I am. At the moment I really wish I was dead.

Planning for the future

As I sit here in my rabbit hutch of a flat, I have a sudden realisation that I need to start planning things, in relation to work, home, relationship, etc.

Everything is at a funny point. My partner is in Manchester so I don't see him as often as I would like. We have to vacate the Manchester flat by the end of this month (we've got another one close by to move into). My current job finishes on 14th April and at the moment I have nothing to go to and I'm starting to get worried about what I'll do. Of course, I have next to no social life in Edinburgh and based on happenings over the last day or so what little I have is going to tail off into absolutely nothing.

So now I am left thinking of what to do.

There are a couple of options, first of which is that I could go back to Manchester, seeing as the other half is having difficulty getting job in Edinburgh. The other is that I could struggle through unemployment getting myself into debt in the hope that a job will turn up. Whilst I don't want to go back to Manchester, it would remove the expense of running two flats and I would have the support of my partner.

Edinburgh is a nice place to live but somewhat expensive, and as I've basically just decided that I have had enough of my alleged best friend, who seems to think that being abusive is a joke, that anyone who objects has no sense of humour, and when taken to task over her abusiveness goes into a whole victim performance that is worthy of an Oscar in it's depth and scope, my social life is going from virtually non existant to completely non existant. So it might as well be non existant with people who actually treat friends as friends, not as a verbal punch bag as amusement du jour.

Of course, I could do something completely radical

Candle Light Vigils

It appears that as Bush and Blair move into the final preparations of their plan for total world domination, that there is still much life left in the peace movement.

The latest is for a candle light vigil to be held on the evening of 16th March at 7pm

MoveOn.org and the Win Without War coalition, together with Archbishop Desmond Tutu and many faith-based organizations, are calling this vigil. Beginning in New Zealand, a rolling wave of candlelight gatherings will quickly cross the globe. It's up to you to make this happen. Organizers are hoping that thousands of small groups around the world will be inspired to come together and stand for peace.

Anybody know whether this is going ahead in Edinburgh and if so where it is to be held. Princess Street Gardens would seem a good option.

Oh Joy!

University libraries are very interesting places. For example, yesterday I just checked out the following texts:

The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation and
Papyri Graecae Magicae/Der Griechischen Zauberpapyri (2 vols)

So if you want a spell for "Fever with shivering fits" I can supply it in English, Greek or German.

I used to have a life...

There are so many things that I wanted to up put in here but I haven't had the time. I think it is something to do with having to work until almost 10 pm most nights and barely getting time for lunch breaks much less a life

Couple of high and low lights are:

Last Wednesday leaving work at 10pm to be confronted by a fox in the hospital grounds. Never knew they could manage such a look of contempt, (they must be related to cats). Got cab to Holyrood Tavern got nowhere near drunk enough but still managed to crush fingers between the door and wall whilst leaving the loos. (Thanks to all who fussed and helped, it wasn't a bad injury, it just felt like it was)

Thursday: Bunked off work early (4pm) to go on the Edinburgh Anti-War demo. Heckled the pro-Palestinian speaker. After all when the Israeli government was adhereing to the peace policy, what happened? Yup, Palestinian suicide bombers attacking pizza palours crowded with teenagers, supermarkets on the main shopping day, school buses etc, etc. Of course, this is acceptable, but just let Israel increase security to try to stop the suicide bombers and they are being aggressive and breaking human rights treaties. Is it any wonder that the Israelis voted for Sharon? The people went along with the peace process because the hoped that everyone would be able to live together and not worry about their children being blow to bits, and all that happened was more of their children were being blown to bits. In all the "evil Israel" messages no-one mentions that rich arab countries actually pay large sums to the families of suicide bombers, that many of these Islamic Palestinian groups probably have stronger connections with Al-Qaeda than Iraq.

Saturday night: Stayed up to watch the motor racing. Coulthard won - poo! - as if his head isn't big enough.

It's taken a long time for me to get around to doing an update, mainly because there has been something brewing in the back of my mind that I wanted to vent about, but didn't feel comfortable venting. A week after the events I still don't feel that I can put the feeling down without upsetting people. Maybe that is part of the problem. I don't vent over little things until it reaches a point where I have to have a big blow up, and then the battle axes really start flying around, whereas last Saturday I walked out of a pub in a way that people, knowing that there was something wrong put down to my being ill. Well I was in a way as I was as depressed as hell. The whys and wherefores are not important now and the people who asked what was wrong have been given reasons. It still hasn't stopped me feeling depressed or stopped me from feeling that I want to lock myself away from the world, to the point that even the thought of updating the blog, this journal, answering emails and so on has increased my depression. I'm sick of going into work and smiling, of being nice and helpful to people. I'm sick of having to be part of the adoring masses to various people that I know. I'm fed up of being a nobody that isn't even perceived as having a worthwhile opinion about anything. I'm sick of doctors telling me to take these pretty pills that will help me pull myself together and most of all I'm sick of living a life that is increasingly becoming the extension or tool of other peoples egos.

But enough of me lets talk about you...

Thoughts about Blogs

The news that Google has bought Pyra Labs hit the Edinburgh crowd like a brick. Of course, there was much talk centred around whether this is a "good" or a "bad" thing. On the plus side it does seem to indicate that blogging is going mainstream. It is re-affirming a phenomenon that the news agencies discovered in the wake of 9/11 that when there is a major event/news story people go on-line to the extent that sites like CNN, Fox and even our own BBC couldn't cope. Much of the information I got that day came from internet sources for example various mailing lists and also from the Usenet bulletin boards. Blogs provide pretty much the same sort of coverage, being information that people have heard from various sources, together with how the event is impacting on their own personal experience. The negative side is how companies, like Google, handle the information within blogs. As a socio-historical record of how people live, work and interact in a world that is becoming increasingly driven by technological advances it is second to none. The main worry I have is that Google, being driven by shareholders and a bottom line are going to use their position as owners to data mine blogs, extracting information and demographics that are a valuable resource to market research companies. Monster have already done this using CVs lodged with various job search websites that it owns, and Yahoo keep resetting options for their users so that they can sell information gleened from user profiles to marketing companies.

The whole discussion about the function of blogs set me thinking along another line. Why do we do it? There are lots of ordinary people like myself who have blogs that are updated infrequently. Yet I would suspect that in many cases only a handful of people ever view our rants, raves and witterings, being restricted to close friends and acquaintences. Having blogs coming up on searches would increase out exposure. Or would it? For example, a friend of mine, Charlie, is a writer. What if he and I are working over a weekend fixing computer, and we both blog in detail the problem, the fix, the problem that the fix caused, the new fix etc. Whose blog will people turn to? I suspect that people would go to Charlie's blog, and the reason is simple, he is a writer, he is a computer journalist, he has a high profile. I on the other hand am an unknown who has jumped the blogging bandwagon. It wouldn't matter that in this little made up scenario my blog may be more indepth. I'm an unknown and Charlie is a name. The vast majority of bloggers are going to fall into this "we don't know you so we won't read you" category and unless we manage to produce twice as much output as the "name" bloggers, whilst consistently matching their quality of writing, the balance will always be uneven.

Will Google buying Pyra, change this state of affairs? Will anything? Does anyone care?

War with Iraq

Whilst I didn't go on the Anti-War demo I am very much against the stance that the British Govt is taking. Despite my own failing to get my arse across to Glasgow I am pleased to see that many others are not as lazy as I am and much respect to those of you who did march.

One of the things that, in my mind, stands out in the govt rhetoric is their insistance that this is part of the "War against terrorism". Now I will grant that Saddam Hussein is a nasty piece of work, but apart from his own people I haven't seen any evidence that he is doing anything in the way of openly terrorizing his neighbours and I think the way he was forcibly evicted from Kuwait put paid to any plans of expansion that he may have once had. (I could be wrong there because I am neither an expert in Middle East politics nor psychology).

However, reading the BMJ (1) I noticed a news article highlighting the release of a report (2) relating to the mental health of Iraqi children. This report is based on the the work of a humanitarian fact finding mission, that interviewed families in Iraq at the beginning of the year. The team included two child psychologists who report that:

"..the children have "a great fear" of a war that they perceive to be "hanging over their heads." Children as young as four described ideas about the horrors of war. They were fearful, anxious, and depressed about the prospects of armed conflict... Many have nightmares, and 40% do not think that life is worth living"

To me these children are being terrorized, and yes I do mean terrorized

The Oxford English Dictionary (3) give the meaning of terrorist as:

1. As a political term: a. Applied to the Jacobins and their agents and partisans in the French Revolution, esp. to those connected with the Revolutionary tribunals during the ‘Reign of Terror’. b. Any one who attempts to further his views by a system of coercive intimidation. In early use also applied spec. to members of one of the extreme revolutionary societies in Russia. The term now usually refers to a member of a clandestine or expatriate organization aiming to coerce an established government by acts of violence against it or its subjects.
2. Dyslogistically: One who entertains, professes, or tries to awaken or spread a feeling of terror or alarm; an alarmist, a scaremonger.

Now correct me if I'm wrong (and I really don't think I am) but looking at the definition at 1b, isn't this what Bush and Blair are doing to the children and people of Iraq? Further isn't the stepping up security at airports and reporting more and more about the perceived threat what Blair is trying to do to us here?

So who are the real terrorists?

REFERENCES
1. Clark. BMJ 2003;326: 356 Link to BMJ News 15th February 2003
2. Our Common Responsibility: The Impact of a New War on Iraqi Children Link to Reports at War Child Canada
3. Oxford English Dictionary On-line. Link to definition

Officially Insane?!

Surfing the web I re-found the link to the Insanity Test. Yes I know there are lots of insanity tests around but as one of my major interests is motor racing you will see why I like this one. Despite having seen it before (about 18 months ago) I still started laughing at it.

Flash Alert

I've just got Flash working on my browser (can't you tell) and I'm currently looking at lots of animations. Whilst there is a huge amount of talentless crap out there in webdom, there are also some quite clever and thoughtful pieces, a not insignificant number inspired by the 11 September terror attacks.

Some are quite poignant and others, like this short cartoon, are really quite funny.

Maybe I need to set up a Flash archive. Or better still maybe not.

One for the Sisters

I thought I had seem everything but this Flash animation takes the biscuit. I wonder if the Catholic church know about it.

The main Rubber Nun website is interesting too.

Cats Galore

I was looking to find the link to the Japanese singing kitten when I came across this. Lots of stuff about cats, though many of the links are to Flash pages. Just wish they wouldn't describe everything as cute.

What in the world makes God Botherers believe that knocking on your door on a Sunday afternoon to discuss The Bible is going to endear them to you. I have just had the Jehovah's Witlesses around. Not the usual old woman/young woman partnership. No this time was a very nice looking young bloke (5'10", short blond hair, cute smile, aged mid 20s, I'd say) and a young asian woman (Far East, Malaysia or thereabouts, 5'5"ish, quite pretty, disarming smile).

Young Man: Good afternoon. I know this probably isn't the best time to call, but we were wondering if you had a few minutes to spare to discuss The Bible. [Short pause] We would like the opportunity to discuss why we believe that current events were predicted in The Bible.

Me: Sorry I don't wish to be exposed to your heresies [Shuts door in young man's face]

It was only later that I realised that this could have been the start of much amusement.

Damn, I've got to learn to put my brain in gear before opening my mouth.

Government Stupidity

In response to the Belgian supreme court ruling that Israeli military commanders could be prosecuted for their part in the 1982 Sabra and Chatilla massacres, the Israeli government are screaming anti-semetism and an accusation that Belgium are raising 'a "blood libel" against the Jewish people.'

The Guardian have reported the story here including a brief description of the blood libel.

He Loves Me!

I just collected the package my boyfriend sent from Manchester. Apart from the obligatory Valentine's Day card, he sent me his last Rolo.

All together now. Awwwwww.

YAY!

I found the game. I can't think why software is on the Hitler bookshelf. I'm now off to spend an enjoyable evening bankrupting capitalists, killing warmongers and smiting fundies.

Don't wait up.

A little bit of poetry for a Friday afternoon

I was going through old issues of the Lancet (like you do) and I came across this poem (again)

night-crossing

i wake to find myself
exactly halfway
between last night and
touching you.

i can tell by this uneasiness.

by the way these feverfews
have come to harm, how
the thin
velvet of their dusted
wings
weaken and fold
beneath a litany of false alarms
halfway
between burning down and coming true.

this is the season of falling satellites, the internal bleeding
of unwritten poems, forest fires for no reason
and i am waiting for news of all
of these, and cannot sleep
until you put your arms around me like a bay
and i tide in and out of you, until we run aground
and have nothing left to say.

you are listing, unsure
if it is my hand in your or yours in mine

if your pulling away will leave me falling behind.

Michael O'Reilly
Ramelton, County Donegal, Eire

(Or if you want the proper reference: O'Reilly. The Lancet 1995; 346: 1543)

My phone has been ringing like an emergency hotline tonight. Seems as though everyone and his dog wants to speak with me.

In among the calls was one from a friend in England checking I was okay because I'd been quiet, who is then telling me about his latest string of potential conquests, which left me so f****** depressed. It just highlights the difference in attitudes to men and women. This friend is only about a year younger than me and seems to be getting interested ladies left right and center. Whereas I am perceived as being over the hill and not worthy of a second glance. It's a rotten f****** double standard and it's f****** unfair. Why should an almost 40 year old woman be seen as unworthy of attention when a nearly 40 year old man is seen as highly desirable? Why the f*** should experience be a virtue for a man and yet mark a woman out as being a slut? Why don't I just blow my f****** brains out and be done with it?

Okay, okay so I don't update as regularly as I should. So what? It's my blog and I'll update when I want.

Anyway I have been frequenting different parts of the internet recently and have been introduced to a couple of tidbits, which I present here for your delight and amusement.

Firstly, thanks to a one of the geeks in a linux chat room for this. Remember folks it's a joke.

Then there the Restroom Rules as brought to my attention by Mike (thanks mate).

And finally, on a topical note a bunch of folks protesting the forthcoming war against Iraq but a banner over a billboard which I just had to laugh at.

Well that's it till next time.

I have the urge to play computer games but I don't want to reboot into windows because that might be what caused all the problems in the first place and I can't find the linux games to reload them. I want to know how it is possible to lose a set of cds in their packaging, complete with manuals in a flat that is the size of a rabbit hutch. I think one of the cthulus must have eaten them as a substitute for brains, but neither of them will admit it. I feel like I should head out to the pub for the writers workshop readings, but seeing as I have been off work sick it would be a bit of a cheek. On top of which I have to get out of bed sometime before light to get my butt across town for 8:30 in the morning. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Blarrrggghh!

Right the computer is working again, thanks to Claudio and the guys in #linux on nixhelp.org. It's actually a re-occurrence of a problem that Claudio spend two nights fixing last week so before he started spending lots more time at it again I threw the problem into the chat room. Main query that came back from the guys was "raid?". Neither Claudio or I thought that the machine was using raid but we kept the suggestion in the back of our minds as work began, partitions were checked and bad blocks marked. When the machine was rebooted, we kept a very close eye on what was being loaded, at which point curses were heard. Kernel sources were located and downloaded from disk at which point we noted that the installer claimed it was reconfiguring something. Looks were exchanged and a decision to have a close look at what the kernel was doing was made. The distro insists that my AMD K6 desktop machine is a 586 family processor running on a Toshiba laptop as well as other stupid stuff including what appeared to be two different raid controllers, so a swift reconfiguration and recompile later we think that we may have the problem solved. Touch wood.

ARRGHH!

Just got up after a fitful night of pained sleeplessness to discover that one of the computers has crashed big time. Won't boot at all. I think I need the services of an Italian friend. Hopefully he will make the computer an offer it can't refuse.

I woke up today with a blinding headache, so bad that I rang for a doctor's appointment. It wasn't just that it was bad but also that it has been there for about ten days. Anyway, the doctor listened to me sympathetically, and agreed that worrying about a headache that's lasted ten days isn't hypochondria, and she gave me some pills to kill the pain and help with the feeling of nausea. So off I toddled to the bus stop to go to work only to find I'd just missed the bus, so I went to get the prescription made up. What a palaver. The local pharmacy never seems to have drugs that you want, it's always we'll have to order this in and we'll have it in a couple of days. Anyway the drug I was prescribed is available in small quantities over the counter so the pharmacist made up the script out of her "over the counter" stock, then charged me a double fee ("well there are two types of tablet there dear").

I staggered into work only to have one of the other senior secretaries drag me off to lunch with the rest of the lunch crew, who all said I looked like shit and should go home.

After having had at least something to eat I took two of the pills. The first lot you should take are a lurid pink and have a drug to stop feelings of nausea, which I needed because I really did feel quite sick. I then put my head on the desk and prayed for a swift death (I said it was a bad headache). One of my co-workers saw me in this state and said that I really ought to go home, and as he is a doctor I decided to take his advice. Because I was feeling nauseous I decided that it would be better to get a taxi home but before I could do this I had to go and throw up. Now I can only blame this on the pills because I'd gone well over a week of nausea without the up-chucking, but on the plus side after my discussion with Ralph on the white telephone the nausea went away so it wasn't all bad.

And now I am at home and just about to go to bed to see if darkness and quiet will help any.

Blaaarrgghh!

I had a phone call from my mother today. She was telling me the latest news about her chemotherapy and all the stuff that is going on with the family down in Leeds.

Family news is pretty much as it always is, but the treatment news was interesting. Her treatment regime is a long session (several drugs) then a week later a short session (one main drug and antibiotics), then the next week a long session and so on. She had her first long session a couple of weeks ago and when I went to visit she was fine. Her only side effect was that her joints were aching and she felt tired. When she went for the short session it was cancelled because her blood tests were a bit skewed. Last week she was back for the next long session and there was a delay for some reason during which time she got to see the consultant. She thought that because there were no nasty side effects that the drugs weren't working, so she was shown the x-rays for comparison, and apparently there is already a visible reduction in the tumour.

Whilst we know that this is not a cure, it's a positive and each positive is a step on the way to controlling the nasty little bugger. So we are all pretty upbeat about it.

Just got back to work, straight off the train from Manchester I should add, and what do I find? Someone in my office "borrowing" my keyboard. So I wasn't well pleased. Of course, this has raised an issue of security, but as my contract there expires on the 14th April I'm getting to a point were I don't give a shit.

However, the reason for my late arrival at work was the visit to my mum's (travelling via Manchester to see the boyfriend). I actually arranged this trip quite well in that I travelled straight from work on Friday, spend the best part of Saturday in Leeds, had quality time with Paul on Sunday and started back a zero-dark-o'clock today.

Mum is fine, if fact she looks better than she has in a long time. I suspect that some of that is because she took early retirement from her job as a special education needs co-ordinator at a deprived inner city school and has therefore relieved her of a huge amounts of stress. The only side effect she is getting is soreness in her joints, though she also says that she is getting tired easily. I have to confess that seeing her has lifted a weight from my mind. She is her usual cheerful self, and she doesn't look anything like you would expect of a cancer patient on chemotherapy.

Plus she is determined not to be beaten.

I knew this was going to happen. The last time I spoke to my mother, she promised faithfully that I would be kept informed of what was happening. Well the date for her first chemotherapy has been and gone and not a word. I know that the effects of the treatment are such that she probably doesn't feel up to calling. But what excuse does my aunt have? On past experience my mother has been at death's door in intensive care and my aunt didn't tell me anything, and what was most annoying is that I was working in a different department of the same hospital. I am so angry yet I can't really be angry at my mother because she probably feels like shit at the moment, and I feel shit because I don't know what is happening.

Well I have arranged travel to go to Leeds to see my mother next weekend and I suppose I will have to wait to see what happens in the interim. I spoke with her on Saturday to let her know that I am going down. She gave me a real ticking off for getting upset again. She actually said that it wasn't as if the cancer was going to kill her, which made me laugh. I suppose that if she can be so upbeat about the situation I should really try to emulate her, but it is so hard when all I really feel is crushing depression combined with total helplessness.

It doesn't help that her first chemotherapy session has been put back two days which then makes me think that there is not as much chance as I was a first led to believe of reducing the tumour. On top of that I have lost a sapphire from the nice dress ring that she gave me when my boyfriend and I started living together and with the timing being what it is that has upset me as well. I know it's silly but my mind was trying to read all sorts of omens into that.

Ho-hum.

This week has been a nightmare. I almost feel as though a deity somewhere has it in for me. To bring things up to date:
Tuesday evening: My mother called to tell me that she has her test results back and that she had and inoperable cancer. I told a few people on my IRC channel, finding time to type between bursting into tears and I have a friend in the Midlands that I also told. I managed to get a lot of help and immediate moral support from them and they all gave me the encouragement that I needed to be able to tell my boyfriend (who currently lives in Manchester). It was really bizarre the way it was so much easier to tell the irc people than it was to tell my own partner. Once I had calmed down a bit I was able to call my boyfriend and his immediate reaction was to try to arrange to come up and visit me. I, on the other hand, thought that it would be better if he went to visit my mum. My mood was swinging from desperate sadness, to frustration and anger, all accompanied by floods of tears, so needless to say, I didn't get much sleep.
Wednesday: After having had a dreadful night of very disturbed sleep I got up and tried to get ready for work. However, with continued bouts of crying and being in a complete daze I realised at about 10:30 am that I was late (one and a half hours late at that point) so I rang my boss's secretary and explained what had happened, only just managing to stop myself from bursting into tears whilst speaking with her. I thought I would go to the restaurant on the corner of the street for lunch, so finished getting ready and as I was about to leave thought I'd head into work because I might at least manage to get something done between the tears and the dazed periods. I also thought that if I got back into work it would start to get my mind back on day to day things. It did eventually, but work wise the day was a complete wash out. My boss was away at a conference but he did manage to make time to give me a call, though I don't really think he knew what to say. As I put the phone down I burst into really hysterical tears that must have been heard right across the lab, because our Lab Manager came to see if I was okay, so yet again I had to recount what is happening. Of course this is now spreading right through the department which I'm not sure is a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, it saves me having to tell people why I am so gloomy, but there is also the feeing that it should be me telling people and that this shouldn't be the subject of general gossip. I have a friend who is an oncologist and I had a chat with her. She told me a lot about lung cancer, possible treatments, possible outcomes and that was very helpful. I also rang the Macmillan nurse who will be looking after my mum. She was very helpful, but at the same time she was very firm that she couldn't tell me anything without my mother's permission. She did, however, say that she wouldn't tell my mother anything about our conversation unless I agreed, so that was good. I slept better that night, though it was still a bit disturbed.
Thursday: Surprisingly, I was fairly okay. I got into work without a hitch and managed to get a fair chunk of work done. I was running behind because of Wednesday, but the really big job that I had, I managed to get completed, which left me feeling frustrated because it took the best part of the day but didn't make an impact on the in-tray. Had a really long conversation with my mother and told her that I had spoken with her nurse. I think she was a bit miffed at first but I explained why I'd called and that I didn't want to be in a position where she was too ill or tired from the chemotherapy to call me and that my aunt would be too busy "dealing with things" to bother calling to let me know and that I didn't want to be cut out of the loop. Anyway, mum said that she will tell everyone that they are to let me know what is going on.
Friday: Today was good. I've read a lot about the cancer treatments available, with probable outcomes, and that combined with my mothers really positive attitude is starting to have an effect. I actually feel guilty about being so upset because clearly that isn't what my mum wants. To be honest if I were in the same position I wouldn't want people to be miserable around me, but it is only natural to be upset in the first instance because whether you are expecting the news or not it's a big shock. Added to the fact that both my grandfathers died of cancer so I know what to expect if the tumour metastasises and/or doesn't respond to the chemotherapy, and I know it isn't nice. It isn't something that I ever wanted to see happening again and I particularly didn't want to see it happening to someone close. Still, as my mother say's you have to look at life in a positive fashion or you'd never do anything. So now I am going to go home and have a hot bath and carry on living my life. It's not that I don't care it's just that my mother is going to live her life as she wants to and now isn't the time to drop everything to go and be with her. What she want's most of all is for everything to carry on as normal, and that involves me living in Edinburgh and being a tour guide when she comes to visit. There will be a time when I have to put my life on hold - it just isn't now.

I have become the Angel of Death

My mother was in hospital just before Christmas with pneumonia that wasn't responding well to antibotics. Whilst she was in hospital she had to undergo a battery of tests, getting the results back when she went to the clinic yesterday. However, the results are not good. She has an inoperable lung cancer and the doctors are hoping to start chemotherapy next week.

Meanwhile, I am about 200 miles away feeling very alone and wondering what to do. I feel angry that this is happening to my mother, and I am also angry at myself for not being there. At the same time my mother is telling me off for getting upset and when I suggested that I move back down south she told me not to be so stupid.

But what am I supposed to do?

...and Then Some

Over the weekend Edinburgh has had it's largest fire in living memory. The fire took over 48 hours to extinguish by over 100 firemen. Fire appliances were brought over the Firth of Forth from Fife and other neighbouring districts to help fight the blaze and maintain fire cover for the rest of the City.

It is ironic that this fire has served to highlight why we need dedicated firefighters, when it was a fire in the same proximity that resulted in James Braidwood being commissioned to form the first municipal fire service just at a time when the local authorities and the government seem to be trying to undermine the well trained and highly dedicated firefighters that we already have. It seems to be the view of the employers that these men and women should only expect to have a living salary by working overtime, yet by the nature of the work that they do working regular overtime would more than likely put lives at risk. Let us not forget, these men and women will go into burning buildings at the risk of losing their own lives, to rescue the likes of you and me. These are the people who are often having to extract badly mutilated bodies (sometimes even of young children) from vehicles after car accidents. These are the people who are frequently left to deal with distraught victims of fire or accident right at the time of the initial trauma.

Come on Tony don't be a tight arse. Just give them the money. You know they deserve it.

Discuss Edinburgh

Life Sucks

You realise that your life has suddenly become very full when you realise that you haven't updated your blog for a couple of months. Is it any wonder then that I feel the need to get a lot of things off my chest?

The two most important things are that my best friend's cat just died. The big blob that turned all my black clothes orange is no more. Last night was very weird because I went to my friend's flat and we sat watching TV and downing a few beers when suddenly we realised we'd spent most of the time talking about the cat and that we were in fact having a wake. Didn't make it any easier and I have cried a few times both last night and today. Charlie put an entry into his blog.

Old Photos

My boss has not been giving me much work at the moment which has been very frustrating to say the least. Friday lunchtime he called and apologised and then asked if I could do him a huge favour. Naturally I said yes (I may need a reference from him in the not too distant future). His parent's were visiting for a long weekend and had brought with them an old photo album. My boss wanted the pictures scanning so that they had an additional record of them. So I have just spent Friday night and most of Saturday scanning pictures of my boss as a child. I had to meet up with him today to give him the photo album back and he was so appreciative that I just had to forgive him for leaving me with nothing for a week. On top of that there were some older photos of his grandparents and great-grandparents that look as though they are original dagerrotypes, so I feel really honoured that I was allowed access to them. The other nice thing is that I have been told to take time in lieu at time and a half so it turned out really good in all ways.

Oh-oh

I really must start putting the interesting bits I find into my blog rather than passing them to Feorag and Charlie for inclusion in theirs. Over the past few weeks there have been several interesting things that I've come across and in every instance I've passed it to someone else.

For example, the rant on Kevin Carlyon's website, where he declared himself to be immortal, not to mention that he was going to raise the ghost of Nessie. This is after he put a protection spell on Loch Ness so that she wouldn't be caught! And he insists that in the Harry Potter film the broomstick is being ridden the wrong way. Apparently we only started to depict witches on broomsticks with the bristles at the back when we discovered the principles of aerodynamics. Of course, this flys (oops! bad pun) in the face of woodcut illustrations in 16th century chapbooks (before aerodynamics) where the bristles are at the back, but when did Kev ever let the facts get in the way of a publicity stunt.

My feeling is that this is a guy who really need to get out more.

Peeve

Today I did some errands for one of the doctors and as I arrived in the department (up two flights of stairs) I was gasping for breath. The combination of asthma, stress and physical exercise does not go together.

So there I am, gasping, and what does the doctor do? He laughs ...... ! big joke.......! In the end the boss thought I ought to have a puff of an inhaler (which we happen to keep in the departmental drug cabinet). So it has a happy ending after all.

Urghh

I am at work. I have a horrible complicated job to do that requires all my concentration. I have a migrane.

This begs the question why couldn't the migrane have held off until tommorrow? Alternatively I could ask Why couldn't I have been given this job last week?

The answer in both cases is "because that would be too easy".

Maybe I will write something when I feel human.

Retard of the Day

Just noticed this in my local newspaper.

"A teen pop star lost four fingers when he waved to fans as he climbed out of a helicopter. Crowds screamed in horror as the whirling rotor blades sliced through 16-year-old Ricardo Abarca's hand at Guatemala City airport."

Now correct me if I'm wrong but I always thought that the rotors were the principle feature of a helicopter, and the fact that they took time to stop was why people usually ducked down as they got off them. And if I know it then surely a 16-year-old boy who is travelling in one should know it.

Or do helicopters act differently for celebrities?

I Don't Believe It

This morning when I went to the boss's office for the usual what do you want me to do today meeting, I burst into tears. All he'd said was "Good morning, How are you today?"

The reason for the extreme reaction?

I got a phone call from the boyfriend last night telling me that a friend had committed suicide. Not a close friend, just someone that we knew from the astronomy society, but close enough that we would always stop and chat if we met on the street and who had been to our Manchester flat a few times. Under normal circumstances I think I would have said it's a shame and after giving appropriate words of sympathy to relatives would have got on with my life. But this year has been different. This is the fourth person that I know personally who had died since March.

First a guy that lives a floor above me fell down the stone steps of the tenement, resulting in my being "under house arrest" for the best part of the evening (the police woman was very nice and just said politely that I couldn't leave, and when I protested was told that if I really wanted she could make it official) Charlie wrote something in his blog at the time. A couple of weeks after that the old man who lives immediately above me died of a stroke.

My friend, David, died of a heart attack recently (which was the impetus for me starting this blog)., and now this.......

It has gradually built up and is taking it's toll on me. If I sat down and wrote out everything that has happened this year to submit as a plot line for a soap it would be dismissed as unbelieveable. I am sure people are beginning to think that I am a drama queen making it all up to get attention. I wish I was, because then it wouldn't be so horrible and I wouldn't be feeling as though I am sitting on a knife edge between complete hysteria and total numbness. I feel helpless, as though I am an unwilling passenger on a out of control roller-coaster, and at the moment I just want to get off and have my life go back as it was, nice and calm with nothing more than minor storms in teacups.

Whilst writing this entry I am holding down the urge to scream because I am at work and screaming will scare the patients. So, in the words of Penelope Pitstop HAAAAYYYYYLLP!!!!!

Friends 2

It would appear that things have been patched up between me and the guy on the mailing list. Not sure if it means that we are friends again, but at least it means we aren't enemies, so the various people who are in the middle can breath easy.

I'll just have to wait and see what happens.

Friends

Well I just found out that my friend Charlie didn't win a Hugo, which is a shame because the nominated story was mighty fine. On the positive side it might mean that we can get his ego under control, because for the last couple of months it has been running away with itself, and trying to take over the world (narf). Currently I'm having a break from The Ego because Charlie took it to San Jose along with his long term partner Feorag. They arrive back next weekend at which point I (and anyone else within radius) will have to put up with the tales of what we did on our trip to California repeated add nauseum and it's no good saying that you've heard that tale because in five mins time you will get it again...... and again..... and again.....

But this is what you get when you have a self important, self obsessed couple as your best friends.

Boom-Bang-a-Bang

I've just got back from watching the Festival fireworks. These happens every year as a final full stop to the Festival. It is sponsored by one of the large Scottish Banks and to get into the Princes Street Gardens you have to buy a ticket which usually costs a fortune. However, the landscape of Edinburgh means that most locals go to the top of Calton Hill to look across at the castle and the display, and if we remember to take a radio we get to hear the music as well.

Last year was a pretty spectacular show using Tchaikovsky ballet music, so there was nice music and the firework display was visually pleasing. This year they tried to be too arty for their own good, lots of coloured lighting effects and showers of sparks tumbling down the castle walls, that were supposed to give atmosphere to the music (Mussorsky's Pictures at an Exhibition) and next to nothing in the way of "proper" fireworks. It was a complete disappointment, especially as the council had closed off all but one entrance to Calton Hill and the police were directing people from the Leith side of town all the way around Royal Crescent to another entrance that was also closed, so we had to walk several times further than we would normally expect to, or even needed to.

The best show all night was the moon, who despite being at last quarter was huge in the sky, and was a beautiful red colour. There was a band of cloud across the middle looking like a veil of sorts. The old girl was stunning, and it didn't cost a penny to look at her.

????

I've mentioned that I am pagan, and in true witch style I have all sorts of spells and things written down as reference. Most witches have all their accumulated knowledge written in a nice Book of Shadows. I on the other had have various bits of paper that are all lumped together in any old order in a box (Walkers smokey bacon crisps box to be precise). The result is I can never find anything when I want it.

So today I have bought myself a nice hardback notebook, a new nib for my pen, and some other bits and pieces and I am going to get the whole lot in order. Sounds good..........

BUT..........

I haven't a clue where to start. On one of the pagan mailing list someone recommended a book, however, that is out of print and unavailable in the UK. I tried the library but they haven't got it and are not sure they can get a copy.

Maybe I should just sit and stare at the big pile of papers and hope that they sort themselves out.

Boo Hoo

Boyfriend has gone back to Manchester, and despite the fact that he was getting under my feet and into the bits of my life that are mine (and mine only), I am actually missing him already.

I suppose it just goes to show that you never know what you have till it's gone.

At Last!!!

I took a couple of days leave from work (and a huge amount of pleading that took) as boyfriend was visiting and the weather was nice (for a change).

Edinburgh appears to be getting back to some semblance of normality. Princes Street wasn't anything like as crowded as it has been during the festival, you aren't accosted by people thrusting show flyers into your hand every few metres, and the prices in the cafes have dropped down to something akin to reasonable, which is nice for those of us who live here.

Today is the official last day of the festival, so all the venues that haven't already packed up will be doing that over the weekend. And just to prove that the festival is finished we are having a torrential downpour. I think summer in Edinburgh lasted about 4 weeks this year, which is not surprising seeing as we were having intemittent snow and hail storms right up to the middle of April. I just hope that we have a mild winter.

Thought For The Day*

If we all follow God's will - who gets the bulk of his estate?

* Probably copyright to the BBC

Honey, I'm Home...

My significant other is here visiting. He arrived last Wednesday and goes back to our Manchester flat on Friday. I couldn't get holiday though, so I was working, leaving him to his own devices during the day. Having been, to all intent and purpose, living on my own for the past two years, this was a scary thought. Boyfriend is now like a stranger to me, he has acquired a whole new set of habits and foibles. Added to which there are things that I have been doing that I have become quite possessive about. One of these things is the computers. I have over the past two years been learning a new operating system (linux). I was perfectly happy using it as a user, in fact, when I was a University I became very friendly with the VAX/VMS system. However, in the last two years I have had to learn how to be a system administrator, keeping the firewall running, setting relays, etc, etc, the bits that are usually referred to as "the hard stuff". I frequently make a mess of it, which then involves running downstairs and pleading with the resident geek to please come and tell me what I have done wrong. Boyfriend is much more computer savvy than I am. So I have been spending all day worrying about the things he could be doing to my computers, and will any of these things have a knock on effect that I won't be able to fix. I am getting to the point where I can't wait to see the back of him because then my nice little flat will be mine, and if I want to slob around in yesterday's clothes there is no one tutting at me and commenting that I'm wearing the same clothes two days running.

Today, it took him two hours to get ready to go out because he kept stopping to "just do something", whereas I was washed, dressed and ready to go. Fortunately we managed to get all the things I wanted to do done but it was a close call, I only just got to one shop in time to get the fabric and binding needed to make a corset, and he had the nerve to complain that I was dawdling.

I have actually come to the conclusion that I like living on my own and I am dreading the time that he moves up here permanently. If only things could stay as they are.......

Oh Well

I've had my little reflection and have decided what the hell if I sound like a self indulgent whinger. Having looked at other blogs out there in the big bad internet it would appear that I wouldn't be out of place, so I can have my own little piece of self gratification, combined with miscellaneous side swipes and the odd funny thrown in for good measure. I will be going back over the old posts to try to correct some of the grammar and spelling errors, and I will probably add some relevant links as well.

Meanwhile, I am starting to get into my research relating to Paddy Slade (See previous blog entry). Some one has mentioned that her dream is suspiciously like a Rudyard Kipling story but they can't remember which one. If it is true I can throw plagiarism at her as well. The best of all was finding that she is going to be one of the main speakers at the Pagan Federation Scottish Conference next year. I think if I supply the rope there is likely to be a very willing lynch mob.

Happy, happy, joy, joy, joy, joy JOY!!!!!

Pagans...... Feh!

I was involved in a very animated discussion on a Pagan list relating to sexual mores, where it would appear that I was on the losing side. Now I don't mind losing a reasoned debate, because I've at least given the grey matter a good work out I'm had to find evidence to support my case and the same is true of the other person(s) involved. What I don't like is arguing against someone who has decided that I am wrong no matter what I say and will then take the very argument I used and quote it back at me as though it was their original thoughts. For example, if you say coal is black, these people will proceed to tell you how you are wrong, for what ever reason they come up with, you reply to their argument and get a scathing response along the lines of "you are so - stupid coal IS black". I sent a long email explaining my thoughs on the over reliance of penetrative sex and how this places too much pressure on people to "perform", I went on to explain that it is possible to have a fulfilling sex life without the need for penetrative sex by developing a fuller understanding of your partners needs and desires, and by using that knowledge even living hundreds of miles apart wouldn't detract from a full love life. I got a scathing reply from some woman who in telling me I was wrong proceeded to give me a lecture on how you can have "sex" with your partner 24/7 through email, text, phone calls etc and didn't I know the brain was the biggest sexual organ? I wondered if she had actually read my mail. I doubt it.

Of course, in the middle of this I decided to change my mailing list settings on the groups web page and I hit the wrong button unsubscribing, (doh!) and the list owner/moderator has publicised this to the whole list without any reference to me. So now I either look like a sore loser or a bimbo who can't operate a web browser without getting it wrong, whereas I was taking multi-tasking too far and got distracted by one job whilst doing another, resulting in them both going wrong.

Life.... Don't you just love it?

List of Lists

Okay I'm starting the list of lists here. There is a new link to the home page of one of the lists. Beyond_EM is I think one of my favourite lists, it is supposed to be about discussion of electronic music, but the list membership is very much a community so we end up discussing all sorts, (past discussions include cars, computers, Lord of the Rings, Charlotte Rampling, Charlotte Church etc). The noise to signal ratio is high but the noise is so entertaining we wouldn't do without it. There is also an associated chat channel on Undernet, where a few of us hang out on a Friday night.

You might find if you are lucky that you are chatting in a message thread with one of the many musicians there, but then there are so many musicians on the list it would be hard not to speak with them.

Hmmmm

I'm at work, I have a lot of work to do, yet I'm hoovering the cat. Reminds me of a Mary Little quote "There is no pleasure in having nothing to do; the fun is in having lots to do and not doing it."

Couldn't have put it better myself.

Ooo Errrr Missus

I subscribe to a lot of mailing lists. And I really do mean a LOT. At last count I think I was subbed to about 50 or so. Some of them you are lucky if you get a message once a month and at the other extreme there are some that have a couple of hundred messages a day, though the bulk of these messages are people "me too-ing". At some point I will list the lists so that the world can see just how sad I really am.

But I digress....

I received a mailshot from one of the mailing lists which turned out to be more entertaining than I though for a number of reasons.

First off, there is that well known children's hero Bob the Builder. Perhaps parents might want to take a closer look at the things the Bob is teaching their kids based on the evidence of this series of links. Maybe the local Child Protection Agency should be notified.

Whilst on the subject of innuendo there is a nice research paper on the distribution of the labial flap, though this is not to be confused with Jackie Stallone's study. (Yes, that is THE Jackie Stallone mother of Sylvester).

Finally there is news that THOMAS DOLBY (he of "Hyperactive" fame) is still alive and made one of his rare live appearances "hosting a 350 Euro-per-headseminar on COMPOSING POLYPHONIC RING TONES in Finland". Before you breath a collective sigh of relief, he's doing two sessions in London this week. There's more info here

Charity Work

The lady that is the fundraising co-ordinator for the Charity we were helping last night is wonderful. She has more personality that half the comedians that were performing last night. On the two big shows the comedians forgot to mention that the charity was collecting so we got a really poor response to the buckets. However, at the other site, the comedian at the big show there has said that we should get somebody into the auditorium whilst he is on stage and he will "pass the bucket around for us". The guy actually approached us whilst we were outside and chatted saying what great work we were doing. Suddenly, I was no longer cold and wet, and my feet miraculously stopped aching, so never under estimate the power of a compliment.

The politics are still going on within the Order. There is so much "he said/she said" going around and no two tales are the same so it is impossible to know what is the truth, although everyone will tell you that they are telling the truth and everyone else is lying.

Oh well!

Argggghhhhhhh

It's that time of year again. Edinburgh is full of tourists doing the festival, so there is lots of opportunities to shake buckets under their nose to get them to part with the money for a good cause. That the good cause is one of the local HIV/AIDS charities means that the bucket waiving is being done by the local order of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. One of my friends is a Sister and as a result I tend to get roped in as a henchperson. Sometimes though the roping in as an ad hoc volunteer gets way out of hand and you are expected to take sides in the petty squabbles and power struggles that happen now and again.

And wouldn't you know it ust as we are heading towards World AIDS day, for which we have to source a huge number of condoms, dams, etc that we have to make up into safe sex packs it would appear that the squabbles are happening again.

The order has a new novice, who is not gay but is very heavily into the fetish scene and seems to want to use the order to get more gays to join fetish events. This novice is also so overbearing and bossy that I have expressed that I don't want to be at any of the event with him. The head sister has similar concerns, and doesn't want to loose me as a henchperson (because I'm more committed to the work than some of the nuns?), but my friend is on the side of the novice. I am trying to stay out of this but it was organised with the head sister that I would help with some bucket waving tonight and of course today my friend had a swipe at me over that. I think if this is going to get to the point were I'm being got at just for doing voluntary work I think that I should withdraw my goodwill.

Which as far as I see it leaves them with one real henchperson and henchperson who forgets he's henching and does other things whilst out with the nuns.

What a set up!

Sanity Break

I'm having a brief break from updating this blog. The reasons are twofold.

Firstly, I want to take time to stand back and work out what I'm trying to do here. I started keeping a blog at a time when I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind to do anything, and most of the posts are probably full of self indulgent whinging. Which, understandably, is not the image that I want to portray.

Secondly, I really have to get my web pages sorted out, which means I have to work out how to put stuff on the ISP's web server without the html being munged into FrontPage hell, and if it can't be done then I will need to find an alternate web server to host my site.

And then there are the niggly little problems with the workstation here at home that need to be sorted out, and I need to get proper backups done (backing up to the server may work but it isn't a good idea).

Back soon.

Murder in Mind

I have been given the job of transcribing some interviews for one of the senior lecturers, and the guy is driving me nuts. He has got this special equipment for putting the recording onto the computer and a footpedal for playback attaches via a USB port and the headset is pluged into the soundcard, but he comes over each day to take the stuff off me, as though I can't be trusted with it. This is on top of coming to see how I am getting on every hour or so, then whinging that it's going to take too long to do. I feel like telling him that if he left me the equipment so I could get on with the work as soon as I've got my coffee, and then stayed out of my hair all day it would be done a lot quicker, but I suspect I will get into trouble if I do that.

Of course, I could just kill him.

Monday, Monday

I hate Mondays. Don't know why because the work on Monday is just the same as on any other day, except that there is usually less of it.

But today is a Monday I could really do without. I am supposed to be transcribing some interviews for one of the research fellows who was supposed to be here at 9:30 am. It's now 11:00 am and there is still no sign of him. On top of that I have a migrane, my vision is distorted and my balance is off kilter, even with the blind drawn my office is too bright and I've taken as much in the way of painkillers as I dare without talking to a doctor. All I really want to do is find a quiet corner where I can curl up and die.

*sobs*

Big Birds of Prey

Macho Man was here again today. This time he had two birds of prey, the eagle and a falcon, and was posing in front of the trust headquarters again. I had to pass close by Macho Man when I went over for my mid morning coffee break and I don't know why he bothered. Okay from the back and from the distance he looked like a well build athletic type, but up close he was old, and had beer gut pouring over the top of the waistband of his jogging pants. Okay his shoulders and arms were well built as you would expect of someone who handles big birds, but the rest of him was a right old wreck. Butt ugly as well.

Any way the seagulls have the measure of him and his birds of prey, so it's Seagulls 2 Eagle 0

Hehehe

Seagulls 1 Eagle 0

The hospital that I am based at has now brought in a man with a BIG bird of prey (an eagle). The seagulls mobbed it, the eagle flew back to it's handler, who then proceeded to pose and posture with the bird on his arm.

I am absolutely disgusted with the health trust here. The seagull on the building opposite my office only "attacked" people when they got persistantly close to it's nest. Of course, the people it "attacked" most of all were the crowd of smokers who were constantly winding the poor thing up. So not content with killing themselves with their cancer sticks, they are trying to have the gulls killed as well.

Everytime something new is tried it just winds the gulls up and makes them "attack" more people. Then the increased gull "attacks" are an excuse to try something else.

Not to mention that the money spent on Macho Man and Big Bird would have best been spent on the patients.

This is from our local compassionate carers. At the moment I don't think I would trust them to care for a house brick.

Now I remember why I stopped working for the health service in the late 1980's, and it was upsetting to see that nothing has changed. Maybe I need to work elsewhere.

Ouch!

Trawling through Ananova I came across this story.

I suspect it was a form of weird sexual experimentation, though you may have other ideas.

The Seagull

I have spent the past couple of weeks watching the seagull chick on the roof of the building opposite and as it got older I was looking forward to watching it make it first attempts a flying. Well, it isn't going to happen now. Apparently at some point yesterday one of the adult seagulls attacked one of the hospital's car park attendants wounding his arm, so this morning a couple of men went onto the roof and removed the chick. Not in a carry cage so that it would be allowed to finish growing up and see the world - no, it was wrapped up in a blue plastic bin liner. The assumption is that one of the men strangled the chick. I was so angry and upset at this. Of course, the people from the other building keep saying "well it was a nuisance" and "what about the poor man it injured?". I have had to walk across the adult gull's territory several times each day - to get lunch, to get work from my boss and so on - and I have only been swooped on once.

The adult gull had a pattern to her behaviour, first she would give warning cries, then she would give a couple of high level swoops that didn't necessitate you to duck, if you didn't get out of the way she would try to shit on you, after that she would make several lower passes that you still didn't need to duck from and if you were still in a position she thought was threatening to the chick she would make the really low passes that you did need to duck from. A couple of times I saw it get worse than that, but in each case the person being attacked was moving back towards the nest and usually waving something at the bird and were basically winding it up. So in terms of this wounded car park attendant, I want to know What was he doing to the gull?

Of course, now we do not have just one seagull defending a nest, we have three or four other angry seagulls who are attacking everything in sight and no real reason to stop, when if the chick had been left alone the single adult would have started to chill in about 10 days or so when the youngster fledged.

If we show so little humanity to something as helpless as a chick, then what hope is there that we will be able to show humanity to other humans?

Webmasters Apprentice

Well now that the computers are working with a degree of reliability I have to turn my hand to the task of updating my webpages. This is going to be a mammoth task because I have to re-write everything from scratch. To make things harder, the nice web publishing package that I originally used doesn't work on the OS I now use, besides which, despite making web publishing easy, it produced pages that are illegal under new UK legislation.

I could try editing the web pages that have already published, but my ISP have this habit of changing the html tags into Front Page tags, so it is easier to start again from the beginning.

So for the next week or so I will be working with index cards to set up my basic structure and getting to grips with how to translate my ideas into an electronic format. Whilst relearning how to write proper, compliant html, that will allow more than one browser to view the pages.

There may be something to see next week, but please don't hold your breath.

The Birds

Today was a first. The seagull attacked me. Having been watching it's modus operandi for over a week I wasn't particularly bothered, just keep an eye on where it is and if it decides to shit on you, move out of the way - fast!

The thing is I was right at the other end of the car park when it decided it didn't like me. This is well away from the area it usually gets sensitive about. It's really spectacular watching a large bird, like a gull, in a head on power glide, and to have it pass over your head, so close that you can hear the feathers rustling, but I think I would have rather not have experienced it first thing in the morning, whilst still half asleep.

Still I only have to pass that way about a dozen more times today, so I will no doubt get used to the sight.

Talking of Wealth

I spent some time browsing through the web and came across this little gem of a site http://humanforsale.com.

I'm actually worth $1,755,064.00. Hmmmmm....... Better not let my partner find out or he might get ideas.

Commonwealth or Just Plain Common

So the Commonwealth Games have finished. I shouldn't be cynical, after all I do not match the abilities of any of the athletes that competed, so irrespective of where they finished, they are each and every one of them worthy in their own way of my respect.

However, today on the news I seem to have been bombarded by Manchester City Councillors and associated PR people telling us that this is only one facet of Manchester and that people will have loved their time in the City so much that it is likely that they will return again and again. All this is because Manchester is (allegedly) a live, vibrant and happening place, with lots to see and do.

Huh?????

Is this the same Manchester that I lived in for 5 years? The same Manchester that I was visiting a couple of weekends ago?

I assume it must be because the place I was visiting was filled with people wearing "official" games t-shirts, and there were posters showing the sports all over the place, so I know I was in the same city as the games. It's just the vibrant and happening bit I don't get. You see the Manchester I was visiting is dying on it's feet. The main shopping mall (The Arndale Centre) while trying to promote itself as a high class place to shop is half empty and the shops that are there are little more than glorified market stalls. Even the Warner Brothers store is the clearance branch. Everywhere you go in the city centre there are shops boarded up, and being left to fall in the disrepair and dereliction. One of the main (high quality) department stores has closed completely and its premises have now been taken over by T.K.Maxx and Primark who are the bargin basement end of retail. The centre is being developed with modern blocks of luxury flats that most Mancunians cannot afford. Did I say dying?

The patient is dead and the corpse is beginning to smell.

Virgin on the Ridiculous

I travel to Manchester a fair bit. This necessitates the use of Virgin Trains. Definately not one of life's little pleasures.

Way back in May I travelled to Mancester for two consecutive weekends and I was delayed on the return journey by over an hour each weekend. I, of course, put in my claim for compensation from the rail company, which arrived today in the form of travel vouchers to a value of £4.00. I was going to call from work to find out where they got their figure from, but when I went to Waverley Station to ask the Virgin staff there for the number I was told that there wasn't a customer service call centre and there was no telephone number for customers to contact head office. When I arrived home and looked at the letter there is, naturally, a number to call.

To give credit where it is due the girl on the other end of the phone was polite, friendly and helpful. She took the information needed to find my complaint and said that she could see straight away that it had been assessed incorrectly. She noted that my name had been input into the system incorrectly and corrected it. She listened to my rant about the inadequacies of Virgin's West Coast service, and she apologised and said that despite their efforts to run the service on-time they were clearly failing. When I said that I was contemplating using a longer route to avoid using Virgin she sounded genuinely upset. At least I will wait and see what happens with the complaint from here on, before making drastic changes to my travel plans.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

I had forgotten how much hard work it is being a witch, not to mention how humiliating it can be at times.

In terms of hard work it is the usual round of organising things for the latest festival. Lughnasadh (pronounced Loo-nah-sah) is the "festival of harvest, a time to acknowledge the fruits and labours of summer and the sacrifices to be made in order to survive the coming winter. Traditionally the character of John Barleycorn is sacrificed symbolising the harvest but from his death comes the gift of food that enables life to continue through the long winter months."* So I have to get my altar organised for the festival time on Thursday. At least it's at a decent time so I will manage to have a good night sleep afterwards.

Now for the humiliating bit. The end of last week saw torrential rain in Edinburgh, combined with severe thunder storms. By severe, I mean there was a whole area of Edinburgh that lost power, unfortunately the part where I work - at a hospital! During one of the lulls in the storms I went over to the main building, but on my way out I noticed that a poor bee was on the hedge by the door and so wet that it wings were sticking to its body. Depite the rain having stopped it was being dripped on from the overhang of the guttering. So I went back into my office got my scissors, cut the length of twig it was sitting on and found it a nice sheltered place where it would get sunlight and a slight breeze to warm and dry it, but still protected if it started to rain again. Of course, just as I am fixing the twig in it's new location one of the doctors comes up to me and asks me what I am doing. The look on his face when told him suggested that he thought I was ever so slightly mad. I'd like to think it was what any witch would do.

* Quoted from the Beltane Fire Society website at http://www.bfs.samhuinn.org

The Continuing Saga of the Computers

It would appear that the nice chap from the IT department has fixed the iMac. I say fixed but in reality I mean it is only crashing once or twice a day as opposed to once or twice per hour. But it is a start and at least now I am able to get some work done.

Things are looking up with the home machine too. I am almost back to a having a working system. There are a few glitches (the workstation seems to think that the CD-Rom drive is the CD-Rewriter and vice versa) but these will slowly be fixed. The main thing is that generally speaking I do all the tasks that I need to do without the machine grumbling, going slow and falling over. Plus the scsi DAT drive that hasn't worked for over six months is now running fine and dandy. So now I can do "proper" backups rather than burn onto CD-R.

Things are indeed looking up.