I don’t understand why this should be as it is, but here are the top ten searches that bring people to this site (from the WordPress stats page):
||the lightning thief
||doctor who doctors
||doctor who actors
#2 makes perfect sense, given the huge number of sushi photos on The Reinvigorated Programmer, and #4, #6 and #10 make sense in light of the many words I’ve spilled on Doctor Who. #5 (“crunchie”) sneaks in because of the Crunchie-refund saga, which I never thought of as a particularly major part of this site but OK. I suppose #8 (“receipt”) is here for the same reason.
It’s been a bit more than six weeks since I said I was giving up on politics, and it’s gone pretty well. Fiona says I am much nicer to be around. I’ve completely stopped searching for political stuff on Twitter (though some inevitably comes my way nonetheless), and — crucially — I’ve blogged nothing at all on the subject.
Now I am breaking my fast a single time, three days before the General Election, to say these two things.
First: vote. Don’t miss this opportunity. Make your voice heard. Even if you are in a safe seat, your vote affects the size of the majority, which will affect how much authority your MP has. Vote.
My colleague Jason Skomorowski and I (and many others) work together for Index Data on the FOLIO library services platform. There is a ton of work to do — fascinating work at that, so that I often find myself working on it in the evenings, not because of deadline panic but just because it’s fun to do.
Often when a request for a new feature comes in — whether it’s user-visible functionality, or more exhaustive test coverage, or better continuous integration support, or improvements to documentation — Jason often asks this key question:
“What should I prioritise that ahead of?”
In this short video installation, “Plug on floor”, the viewer is thrust into a conceptual space replete with a implicit socialist/capitalist dialectic conveyed through subsemiotic narrative. The artists speaks of our shared need to contextualise truth-as-a-totality into a postconceptual discourse.
In this second of a short series of video installations, “Extension Lead”, the viewer is invited to consider the penetrative/explorative nature of industrialisation, it distortative effect on gender-performant patriarchialist objectivism, and the pervasive influence of constructivist/deconstructivist nationalism in the age of Trump.
The third in this series of short videos is a post-feminist feminist statement, reversing the traditional gender roles in a neoconstructive discourse where a female is anointed with the heirophantic/patriarchal role of technology tutor. Is this a subversion of expectation? The very fact that it can be perceived as such is a narrative of futility, negating cultural discourse in favour of entrenched presemanticist/postsemiotic theory.
A while back, I read a tweet that said something like “Rick and Morty has more ideas in a single episode than most series do in a whole season”. (I wish I could find that tweet, but I can’t.) [UPDATE! Chris R found it, and here it is!]
That claim caught my imagination, so I watched the first season. You should watch it, too.
I wonder, does anyone recognise this?
My mum found it recently, when she was throwing out some old stuff. It came with a note carrying my address and saying that I’d drawn it when I was 12. I am pretty sure we sent it to 2000 AD (hence the note with the return address) and I think they published it in Tharg‘s Nerve Centre. But, stupidly, I don’t have a copy of the issue that included it.
A lot of my key memories of my childhood aren’t really mine. They are of incidents that I don’t have my own memory of, but which I talked about and laughed about with my parents so many times that they have become canon. I suspect this is pretty common: most of the memories that most people have of their early childhood are not authentic.
But some are. And the reason I know this is because there are little incidents that I never told anyone else about — so there has never been this reinforcement that you get from do-you-remember-when and what-about-the-time-when. A trivial example: I remember stopping in a cafe with my mum when we were shopping, smelling real coffee for the first time, and being mesmerised by the tanks of juice with their paddles constantly churning. I would have been very young: maybe two, perhaps three years old.