tracking the specials agent

I should have realised when I saw the huge west London billboard advertisements a month or more ago. They are the ones usually reserved for new prestige car launches and airlines.

They were advertising Maiya the specials agent meerkat.

I had to renew some kind of insurance policy at the time and somehow let the meerkats persuade me to switch suppliers. That and the dramatic change of price, of course.

My reward would be the acquisition of a cuddly toy. Naturally I plumped for the exclusive limited edition one, knowing all along that it will be going to join a small collection elsewhere once it has safely arrived at rashbre central.

Now anyone who has been along the meerkat route will know that they are delivered from Meerkovo by Postkat, who doesn't always take the most direct route.

I checked with Sergei's meerkat tracker, which uses the same technology as the Meer Space Station, and it's indicated that Maiya is now in Dover.

Just because it's reached this country doesn't mean it will take a direct route for the next part of the journey.

and now I'm hearing voices...

There's an interesting old book about building a computer operating system called 'The Soul of a New Machine', by Tracy Kidder. It's about how a bunch of people developed a new computer back in the days when computers had their own offices.

I was reminded of it today when I finally caught my own computer talking to itself.

I've suspected it for some time, but there's usually too much other ambient noise for me to be sure.

But today, when I thought I heard it, I silenced other nearby sound sources, and sure enough, I could hear a little voice coming from somewhere around the machine. It was one of those moments when I actually crawled around under a desk to be sure of the source.

A little voice was coming from one of the flashing light boxes. Of course, it was really some form of Radio Frequency Interference, like you sometimes hear on public address systems, or that sound that clucking sound that old cellphones generated on most office conference phones. Now I know why they put those magnetic rings around wires on certain types of connections.

What also amused me whilst I was tracking down the source, was that the backup disk box nearby was looking suspiciously like another almost sentient computer. A blue-eyed version of HAL, maybe?

Wordless Wednesday

Incoming!

cheatin' back post blues

Got them.
Got them.
Got them.
Got them.


Cheatin’ back-post blues!

Yeah!

Got them.
Got them.
All of them.
Cheatin’

Cheatin' back-post blues.

Tried so hard to stay with it.
Tried so hard so to kill it.
But I can’t every minute.
So I have t-t-to re spin it.
Those ch-ch-cheatin’ back-post

Bloooze.

All the time now.

Cheatin’

Cheatin’ back-post.

Cheatin' back-post blues.

time storage devices

I thought I'd keep the theme of time travel running a little longer this week.

The picture supporting this is of one of a number of time storage devices (TSD) that I have identified. Some of them are quite small, like this window opener and others can be absolutely huge, even larger than London.

I'll start with the small one and how it works.

It looks like an ordinary window opener, doesn't it?

The thing is, it doesn't open the window. That's how it stores time.

I wanted to use it today and discovered that the only way was to find a screwdriver, remove the catch and then re-adjust the setting. It required a special fitting. The fitting required a special drill. The drill wasn't charged and so had to be plugged into the mains for a while.

I think it took me about an hour to open the window.

See where I'm going?

Stored time.

The window catch had stored an hour of my time and was patiently waiting for me to release it.

I guess a medium sized burst mode TSD is Waterloo train station. It works on a slightly different principle, because it can operate on many people at once, unlike my single person window catch.

And then there's a very large scale continuous TSD like the M25 motorway around London, which runs by the ongoing scooping up of thousands of people and a subsequent slow release of their time.

So I've discovered that TSDs can operate in one direction, but now I need to find some that work the other way around.

deciding de time for de-icer

"...so do you know something that I don't?" asked the grinning checkout lady in the supermarket.

I was buying milk and screen wash.

I looked into the basket and there were 5 litres of concentrated screen wash and only 4 litres of milk.

To emphasise the point I looked at the still waiting to be scanned cans of blue spray stuff and the two blue squirter things.

"It's going to get cold soon," I explained, before she could think I was buying the screen wash as a cunning substitute for Tennents Extra Strong.

I idly wondered whether lager would have been cheaper than the screen wash.

teaching expertise?

I know that sometimes members of the teaching profession glance at this site, so I thought I'd pass on a tip from Lady Banana.

Lady Banana spotted the new book about teaching by Michael Gove.

He certainly takes a very direct line in this publication. This is an example of a book that is probably not quite as useful as a Kindle download, but at the moment it's also free.

can daleks travel faster than the speed of light?

We were at the BFI on Saturday evening and it turned out there was a bit of a bash on for Doctor Who.

A couple of daleks managed to gate-crash and it made me think again about the time traveller dilemma. It would make sense to publicise a set date for time travellers to convene and a globally publicised Doctor Who fest could be one such moment. No actual time travellers were present though, unless they forgot to mention it.

It remands me also of the telly programme about Doctor Who physics shown a few days ago. It illustrated relativity, spacetime curvature and the effects at the edge of a black hole when observing the event horizon.

Some of it has great mathematics, but I can't help thinking there's a whiff of phlogiston about it. Phlogiston was the stuff supposed to be consumed by things that burned. Until a better theory came along.

So my dilemma is that clever people say things can't move faster than the speed of light. OK, so how can the earth's position relative to the sun by gravity be twenty arc seconds (8.3 minutes) ahead of its observed position? That would mean that gravity was somehow working faster than the speed of light.

Or, how could a black hole, which consumes all light, be able to have a gravitational pull? The gravity would have to be able to escape, whilst the light couldn't. Doesn't this mean it needs to travel faster than light?

Someone will say gravity is a wave, or that there's a yet to be discovered particle called a graviton. But whatever the explanations are, it still seems to me that there's some black holes in the theory.

How else would the daleks have been able to get in the bar?

time acceleration

Fun with both time travel and history acceleration today with this pop chart lookup. Click through to see many years of top 30 or top 100 singles, complete with a mini play list, via Bob Borst's site.

What with it being my birthday month, I tried my birth year and found interesting curios amongst the songs (gulp).

For the UK there's also the UK Official Charts listings, but it doesn't provide an automatic playlist.

For this blog I've set both of the above searches to 1963, because of the extensive coverage of Kennedy and Doctor Who over the last few days. Two stories from adjacent days, both receiving comprehensive UK coverage at the moment.

Thursday night on television I could watch analysis of the sight lines Elm Street or the politics of Dallas and then flip to see the first ever Who episode (or the whole series, if required).

By the morning the rolling news on the hotel room television had already moved on and extensive coverage had moved to another story. Tweets were coming in of Monty Python's planned reunion.

Crunchy frog, anyone?

not exactly jet set

Thursday started in London, but has ended in the Midlands. Well, north of Birmingham in any case.

It was late as I walked towards the hotel lobby. A couple of Christmas trees twinkled in the corner.

I'm not sure why, but after the cones and jams of the motorways it felt slightly awkward to be suddenly thrust into this apparently festive world.

I decided to head to my room, make a cup of tea and call it a night.

hemlock grove as hebenon to the eyes?

I finished watching a film on Netflix recently and it came up with a suggestion about watching a Netflix series called Hemlock Grove. I thought this might be a handy thing to have as I've started to use the bike turbo again for the winter season and duly clicked on the first episode.

Oh dear.

I've been sticking with it, but I'm not really sure about how or why they made it. What I've enjoyed is the sheer number of horror film concepts that they've managed to throw into the first couple of episodes. Kind of Addams Family meets Twin Peaks, done in a Young Adult format but with lots of steam of every kind.

Even the High School Kids could work out who was a werewolf ahead of the authorities. Here's a clue:


So what do we get? There's a High School. A posh family. A 'gypsy' family who move into the town. There's a wood where Strange Things Happen At Night. There's a very tall goth girl with a kind of facial disfigurement. A secret scientist laboratory. A few Unspoken Secrets. A gnarly dude who runs through the woods and has a bit of a twitch. A vintage sports car. Much use of big eyes acting.

Then there's the casualties. The body count is quite low at the moment, but I have a feeling it is going to rise in every episode.

I'm paused somewhere in Episode 3 but am going to stick with it for a few more episodes. I'm finding a strange fascination for the cringeworthiness.

squirrelled

Tonight was a bit of a secret squirrel affair.

One of those places along a quiet street in central London where there is no marking to explain what you are entering.

To be buzzed in from the street and then to head for the drawing room. To wait for other guests to arrive, before being whisked to another area for cocktails and more.

Annoyingly, that's about all I can disclose. Kind of hush-hush.