I just came so very close to losing my afternoon’s work. I started a new Google Document at around 1500, and it’s been open ever since. I noticed at around 1800 that the ’saving’ message was there continually, but I couldn’t say when it had appeared. I left it for an hour, came back and there was no change. ‘Save and Close’ didn’t work, so I closed the tab. I refreshed Google Docs to be informed the document hadn’t changed since 1507. I opened the document and saw a blank screen. Oh, crap.

Thankfully, a little stab of paranoia had saved the day. When I originally went to close the tab the ‘you have unsaved changes’ message popped up. It always does, but for once I paid attention. I select-all/copied the entire document as a last ditch backup, and thankfully this was still in the clipboard a few moments later¹. I lost the page breaks, but that’s no big deal.

That’s the first time I can recall Google completely killing a document. That would have been bad. So, if in doubt, reload Google Docs in another tab and check the modified time.

1. actually I had another backup layer, as I run the security-nightmare but oh-so-very-useful Ditto [↩]

I’ve been itching to know the Vatican’s thoughts on extraterrestrial life. Good news!

Writing in the Vatican newspaper, the astronomer, Father Gabriel Funes, said intelligent beings created by God could exist in outer space.

They know this from all the astronomy mentioned in the Bible, as well as their extensive questioning of astronomers.

Just as there are multiple forms of life on earth, so there could exist intelligent beings in outer space created by God.

…well, no. That’s a bit circular, really. The Times has the exact quote:

Father Funes said that just as there existed a “multiplicity of creatures on Earth”, so there could exist “other beings created by God, including intelligent ones. We cannot place limits on God’s creative freedom.”

Immovable objects; irresistible forces. Just saying. Anyhow, we haven’t got to my favourite bit yet.

And some aliens could even be free from original sin, he speculates.

Planets where they don’t have fruit? Where God didn’t take his eye off the ball? Where there isn’t a power-hungry cult trying to control people’s every thought? I lose my sense of humour when people start talking about original sin. It doesn’t take more than a moment’s thought to see original sin for what it really is, and those who preach it lose their right to be treated politely. Twisted, manipulative bastards.

I think it’s a mistake for the Vatican to start looking to the stars. They should stick to vague historical claims that can’t be proven one way or another. There’s more wonder in astronomy than the world’s religions combined, and space has the annoying habit of supplying fresh data. It’ll only veer towards comprehensible, and the Vatican should know to stay away from comprehensible. Like Perry DeAngelis used to say: if you’re going to believe in a God, you have to give him something to do.

A while ago I was casually asked if I’d stand in for a dance photographer at an upcoming event. I agreed before the question was finished, and Sunday was the day. It was nuts. Long periods of nothing punctuated by ten minutes of frantic activity. Fun though, at least once I stopped worrying all my equipment was going to spontaneously combust.

It was a dance competition day, held at a sports centre in Worcester. The prizes are for general prestige, as well as qualifying for entry into the larger events, and a crazy number of competitions are needed to cover the many levels of dancing. The ballroom section consisted of 12 competitions, each with 1-5 dances and most with multiple heats required to whittle people down to the final six. I don’t know how many rounds I watched, but it took almost 10 hours to get through the Juniors, Juveniles, Adult Ballroom and Adult Latin dancers.

I was photographing the trophy handovers and dancer line-ups. I had it easy, really, as most competitors were experienced and didn’t need to be told ‘left foot back, right shoulder forward’. Still, I had trouble getting them to move close enough to each other that there were no gaps. I thought I was doing an ok job, but much chimping¹ of the Ballroom line-ups showed various spaces through which you could drive a milk float. But I got all the necessary shots, thank goodness. At one point the announcer was ahead of me, and the trophy was being handed to the next winners as I’d just finished photographing the previous line-up. I got the shot by sliding into position, clicking the shutter before I’d finished moving. This either looked extremely cool or completely stupid.

Then, right at the end, I sold a photo! I’ve never sold anything to a stranger before. One of the winners wanted a copy of her line-up photo. I was taken aback and had no idea about price, but she wasn’t bothered and told me to send an invoice. Quite a little milestone, really.

I continued my project of trying to take dancing photographs that don’t completely suck, and by the end of the evening had enough confidence to start playing around. I put my wireless flash in various positions - it only got knocked over once, although that was bad - and wandered around the room trying to get some interesting angles. I haven’t had a chance to process them yet, but there were a couple that seemed ok. Here’s an early version:

The light level was such that the flash was on full power. Poor dancers.

1. incidentally, anyone who says chimping is a bad thing can bite me - instinctive chimping no matter what the scenario isn’t a good idea, but 90% of the time checking the rough image is a bloody good plan. Yes, you should know roughly what the image is going to look like, but a) people make mistakes b) people have to learn. So there. [↩]

I used to adore that show.

This entrances me:

Cinco De Mayo Carnival from Andrew Curtis on Vimeo.

2683 images, taken with 1 second exposures every 2 seconds. I like the ride at 2:15. Full-size link.

I sometimes really wish that all fiction books of all genres for any people over the age of about 12 were simply filed alphabetically by author, because as Patrick Nielsen Hayden once pointed out to me, shelving by genre simply tells people the places in a bookshop that they don’t have to go.

I’d never thought of it like that, but it makes perfect sense. I expect this will now pop into my head every time I walk into a bookshop for the rest of my life.

This morning’s post delivered a bunch of cheapo close-up filters - essentially magnifying glasses for the lens - so I spent the evening finally taking my ‘abstract’ pictures. I lost any sense of coherence after a while, but I’m hopeful there’ll be something usable. Some of the digital test shots turned out ok:

I’m hoping the filters didn’t degrade the slide quality too much.

I’ve been panicking over my ‘Urban Landscape’ project today. I have a massive sheet of ideas, all of which are either too ambitious - recreating this effect - or too dull - traffic cones in various odd places. So just before midnight I jumped into the car, slapped my camera onto a dashboard-mounted-monsterpod and went for a drive:

These turned out better than I expected, and would certainly fit the ‘urban landscape’ remit. I took a bunch of shots on slide film, but the daylight balance means they’ll all be way orange. Still, they might do, and if they’re nearly ok I can always get some filters…

Warning: you might want to skip this if you’re squeamish.

I’ve never been bothered by blood. I’m not saying this to be macho - plenty of things do bother me - I’m just lucky that the sight of blood doesn’t affect me. So, donating blood has never been a problem. Today was no different, but an unexpected release of my blood did cause some trouble.

I hadn’t given blood for a few years, but after discovering the donation centre was literally two minutes walk I didn’t have any excuse. So this afternoon I trotted down, presented my little blue card and after the usual checks was happily excreting bodily fluids. I like to see what’s going on, so I watched the needle go in and the blood wind its way around the warren of tubes and containers, and it was apparently coming out pretty quickly. This wasn’t a problem, and once it finished the nurse told me I could go to the biscuit table without waiting, if I was feeling ok. Which I was, so I did.

I grabbed a cup of Ribena, at which point I apparently sprung a leak. I didn’t twig it for a couple of seconds, by which point I was halfway to my seat and a not insignificant amount of blood had dripped, well, everywhere. The nurses were there in an instant¹, and I got cleaned up while they wiped the floor down. I genuinely wasn’t bothered at all, but someone at the biscuit table fainted. Oops.

Walking home in a bloodstained shirt gives a teeny macho thrill, though. I’m not sure I should admit this. It’s not like there are many situations where it’s a good thing.

1. these people rock - every nurse I’ve ever met has been continually cheerful, caring and on the ball [↩]

I spent hours today trying to get Skype working. I needed it for this evening, but calls to the test number were robotlike and incoherent. I opened ports, punched holes in and disabled firewalls, enabled skype’s debugging modes, uninstalled other networking programs, reconfigured NAT and in the end replaced my router¹. Nothing worked, and I got more and more frustrated. I eventually discovered that SkypeOut was totally clear and free of error, so I figured I’d call a landline if necessary.

Come this evening: skype to skype worked perfectly. Afterwards I tried calling the test line again, and it had exactly the same problems. I think it’s that particular ‘number’. Oh well, at least I now know my computer’s networking configuration inside-out.

Just while I’m here, it might be a little quiet in these parts for a bit. It’s 2.5 weeks until deadline day, and I still have two projects left to shoot, 3.2 workbooks to put together and a 3k essay to hone. I haven’t picked up my guitar in a fortnight, I haven’t danced in almost a month, people are asking about non-existent birthday plans, which isn’t going to happen, and there’s other unpleasant stuff I’m trying to work through. Which isn’t to complain…well, I suppose it is a bit to complain. But the 23rd of May will see all the work finished, one way or another, and you know what else is due that day? Indiana Jones and the goddamn Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, that’s what.

1. this has needed doing for a long time, so it was a good excuse. I swapped it for a Netgear DG834G, which is possibly the best ADSL router in the world - I’ve installed it for countless people as it Just Works Right [↩]

Here is the deal. Here is how it works. If you live in London, everybody does you a favour. We pretend like London isn’t where most interesting things happen, so you don’t have to feel embarrassed talking to people who live in Milton Keynes. This is how it is. We’re nice like that.

Here’s another thing. You live in London, where you’re surrounded by many interesting people. This makes you inherently liberal. We don’t nuke small-town we-hate-change-and-anyone-not-like-us Tories who infect the greener areas because we know that decent city-dwelling folk can appreciate the world’s eclectic nature without getting scared. Your votes cancel out the dumb ones. This is all part of the goodness that goes with living in the capital city.

People of London. If you were any part of this, the deal is off. I’d revoking your privileges. Get out. Seriously, this is not a drill. Once we find Charlie Brooker, and I don’t think it’ll be that hard, he’ll be round to pack your stuff.

Celebrate spring with a crazy little thing.