House rules
So a friend of mine is moving to a different city this weekend. She currently rents a room in a private house, and the new place is smaller, so last week she listed a few items of furniture on Freecycle. She got takers pretty quickly, and arrange for collection in the evenings of the upcoming week. My friend then mentioned this to her landlady, who went ballistic: "I will not have strangers setting foot in my house", she said. My somewhat-taken-aback friend tried to argue, but to no avail: nobody is to come around and collect things - they will not be allowed in. My friend is unable to carry bookcases etc. downstairs single-handedly, so has been forced to cancel all the collections.
I just want to confirm - this is completely batshit mental, right? There's no universe in which that's reasonable behaviour, is there? I mean, what if I went round to help move? Landlady doesn't know me - would I be allowed in? What about the gas man? What about friends? Come to think of it, I have been round, and I wasn't kicked out that I remember.
People are weird.
An unexpected scrape
Yesterday I woke up with a slight irritation in my eye - it felt like a piece of grit was lodged somewhere, and wouldn't come out. It was still there this morning, and hurting a bit more, so I figured I'd best get it looked at. I'm away for the next few days, so I needed something pretty quick. Unfortunately my opticians didn't have anyone around, and a cheeky call to an optician whose computers I fix didn't help either. So I thought: forget it, I'm sure it'll go away by itself. But someone suggested I ask at the local Vision Express on the off-chance. So I did.
Optician Chap found a 'foreign body' attached to the cornea, and is sending me to the hospital to have it 'scraped off'. Doesn't that sound delightful? So I'll head over there shortly. Apparently it involves anaesthetic, and lots of waiting around. My Dad apparently had the same thing once, and had to wear an eye patch for a few days. I'm rather hoping technology has improved, even though an eye patch would be BRILLIANT.
Quite glad I went. Apparently there's a danger it could get infected, spread about the cornea, and damage my vision. So I'd best stop blogging and get over there.
Update: All sorted. The eye clinic was closed, so I went to A&E (feeling guilty as it didn't seem serious, but he had mentioned infection) and they diagnosed it as a 'corneal abrasion': essentially, something smacked into my eye and left a crater. I have antibiotics, and it should heal fine. Doctors are amazing, aren't they? No need for an eye patch, sadly.
Intermission
Hello! I'm still here, really I am. The quietness is more to do with being neurotic than busy. I have plenty of posts drafted on brainstuff, but the moment I consider translating them I feel guilty about the many, many university things I've yet to complete, so I go away and don't do them instead.
I'll be in London all this week, sitting in the university library trying to find people who've said something about Flickr that isn't pretentious beyond imagining. 2500 words seem a long way off. Once that's done I'll be putting in a Blurb order for my big practical project, and really hoping their printers don't break down next week.
May 5th is the deadline - well, ish - and I shall endeavour to pop in from time to time before then. I'm also always about on twitter.
Finally, apropos of nothing, I took this picture in Hyde Park, and I quite like it1:
- feels a bit vain, but what's a blog for? [↩]
David Mitchell on the post-Sachsgate BBC
Seven months after the Ross/Brand affair, David Mitchell nails the reactions of the tabloids, the BBC, and the government:
The BBC is an institution of genius, one of the great achievements of the 20th century. It's famed for its news reporting, drama, comedy and documentaries; it provides the best radio stations and website on Earth. But there is a plot to destroy it; a plot to which Ross and Brand's childish remarks gave an unwitting but enormous boost; a plot led by people who say they support the BBC but not the licence fee, by people who find the word "fuck" more offensive than Holocaust denial. By its competitors.
The whole thing is perfectly put, and seems completely accurate. Bravo.
Chocolatey Jesusy Pareidoliay Goodness
It is well known that Kit-Kat Chunkys are a gift from God. Nothing so wonderful could arise by accident. But if more proof were needed, and it isn't, Phil has it.
Not a fan
Facebook updated its layout last month, and people got very upset. I had lots of fun reading updates that tried very, very hard to put 'I don't like new things' into bigger words, and that was all the interest I took. Andrew says it's generally better, and I believe him. And that was that until just now, when I abruptly started taking offence:
No. Just, no. Christ. Don't do that. Ever.
Knowing
I saw Knowing this evening. Minor spoilers ahead.
It made no sense. At all. I don't really mind this, as it didn't take itself very very seriously, but it's a shame there weren't fewer 'wait, what?' moments. I was actually more bothered by the gratuitous scenes of mass fatalities: the camera went out of its way to show the realistic, violent deaths of many, many people. I've no problem with this kind of scene generally - if it's part of the plot, sure. But in this case the deaths weren't part of the plot: the event itself was necessary, but the grotesque embellishments were not, and were too close to reality for comfortable viewing. The film was obviously intended as a silly sci-fi blockbuster, and showing how people actually die in plane / train crashes didn't fit the style. I don't mind the implication, but I'm not sure I need to see it actually happen on-screen. Maybe that's me, though - perhaps I'm becoming more squeamish as I get older.
As annoying was the pandering to Christianity which, as Claudia would say, made me want to pull out my eye and feed it to a dog. The whole plot is a bit...biblical...and the godless scientist is considerably less godless by the end. This isn't too surprising, as despite being an astrophysicist he clearly can't think for toffee1. One of the first scenes shows him describing 'determinism' and 'randomness' with all the flair and accuracy of a creationist manifesto, and eventually sinking into deep depression - in front of a class of students, no less - while describing the meaninglessness of existence. Bah. It would be silly to be irked by this standard depiction of scientists, but the line that went something like "my scientific mind tells me to completely ignore this" rankled rather. There was also something about a solar flare with a magnitude of 100 micro-teslas.
On the plus side, there were a couple of scenes that creeped the hell out of me. And I was entertained enough to want to know what happened at the end. So it wasn't a total waste.
- note: I will actually think for toffee [↩]
Building the Brooklyn Bridge
Further to yesterday's post on suspension bridges1, here's Rands on the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge:
Both of the towers of the Brooklyn Bridge are in the water of the East River. Ever wonder how you dig a big hole in the bottom of a river bed? In the late 1800s? It’s called a caisson, which is a huge, watertight wooden box half the size of a city block. This monstrosity was constructed on the river, sealed with pine tar, and carefully floated to a specific location on the river. It was then slowly sunk to the riverbed by placing stone on top that would eventually become the foundation.
Done, right?
Wrong. With the caisson on the riverbed, it’s time to push it another 45 feet into the riverbed in search of bedrock. Workers did this through the continued application of stone to the top while workers in the caisson dug out the riverbed with shovels, buckets, and, when necessary, dynamite. There was nothing resembling an electrical grid, so there was nothing resembling modern lighting in this watertight pine-tarred box, which was slowly descending through the floor of the East River. There were no jack hammers, so when they hit rock, they used small amounts of dynamite to crack these rocks. In a pine-tarred box, at the bottom of a river, mostly in a very wet dark.
As he says, it was a time without power tools, heavy machinery or even a proper understanding of steel. The whole thing is worth a look.
- talking about bridges feels worryingly Jeremy Clarkson. Am a little concerned. [↩]
Maybe I need to lose weight
At midday today I took this picture of the Clifton Suspension Bridge:
I then tweeted about there being nothing like walking over such a structure to test your faith in engineers. A few hours later it was closed when they found a crack.
This doesn't mean much, other than my being very grateful for the existence of people who maintain bridges.
Photographing university architecture (or not)
Yesterday morning I headed into the University of Greenwich, to photograph a Happy Humanist. There were a couple of interesting moments.
I met said Humanist in their office, and they asked where I'd like to take the pictures. As the office was pretty grand, and had lovely white walls for bounce-flash, I suggested we stay where we were. This went fine, and afterwards I remarked that I hadn't been to the university before. They recommended I see the Painted Hall, so after saying goodbye, that's where I went. It turns out to be modestly named.
Same dude who painted St. Paul's Cathedral. Damn. This is why you should always do your research - I really missed a trick there. I have a portrait against a mantelpiece, when that was only two minutes walk. I considered going back, but it was 20mins after my three-weeks-in-advance appointment, and I didn't quite have the nerve.
So, while poking myself with a mind-cilice, I figured I might as well have a proper look around. The Hall's sign indicated it was open from 10:00, so I went in, picked up a laminated info-sheet, and wandered around taking photos. It's a lovely place, and it helps that it, along with the other university buildings, was constructed for public use: you can admire the architecture without the opulence sticking in the craw - sure, it might be extravagant, but at least it's useful, and not wasting itself like a beautiful stately home, palace, or church. I had a pleasant time trying to figure out muses, vices, astronomers, royalty, areas of the world etc.., and spent quite a while in there. I spent considerably less time in my next destination.
Across the way was the chapel. I thought it might be similarly impressive, so I went in through the open door- again, past an 'open from 10:00' sign - and joined other tourists looking around. Here's the scene:
I hope you like this picture. They threw me out for taking it.
There's a guy with a violin1, you see, and he makes all the difference. I'd taken two shots - both without flash - when a security lady hurried over and brusquely told me I wasn't allowed to photograph 'the performers'. I had no quarrel with this; there weren't any signs saying as much, but if they wanted me to stop, sure. But she quickly continued, asking if I was part of 'Trinity'. I said no, and she told me I'd have to leave.
I never did figure out what was going on. Maybe everyone else in there was part of a musical group, but they certainly looked like tourists, and the front door was wide open. Having said that, lots of people with instruments were heading inside a few minutes later. Odd.
It's the first time I've ever been asked to leave because of taking a photo, and I was a bit taken aback - next time I'll certainly at least question the reasons.
But hey - asked to leave a chapel. Not exactly a rite of passage, but not bad.
- I have blurred out Violin Man's face. Although I had my camera's soul-stealing mode turned off, you can't be too careful. [↩]
Hello!
Hey, thanks for coming! I'm Andrew, and this is where my headthinks come to breed. They often meander around humanism and photography, but they're flighty and you can't trust them, so anything is possible.
Do feel free to email me - I get lonely:
Your hair looks swish, by the way - have you done something new?
Recent Comments
- vicky: going up this weekend having done all the welsh peaks except 4 snowdon, cant wait
on Climbing Snowdon. - vicky: what, how can u live in the 21 c and say that, probably a sexist thing
on Climbing Snowdon. - vicky: da iawn laura, cant believe what im hearing, all this fuss, anyway love the site, and i agree, normal people who swear and curse clomb mountains cos we live in the...
on Climbing Snowdon. - Andrew: Did a few quick test shots to check the light levels, then balanced the camera on the arm of a bench, set it for a 20s exposure and hoped for the best
on ISS. - lynsey: Wow, how did you take that photograph?
on ISS.
