(no subject)
May. 29th, 2002 07:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zotzFrom the bus home today, I could see a triple rainbow hanging over the bit of Cambridge where I live. Note that I didn't say "home", or "my neighbourhood" or anything. There's a song about that, by a Canadian band called The Pursuit Of Happiness, who I think have broken up now.
Hmmm. According to the Miraculous Interweb, they're actually playing reunion shows in June. Hoodathunkit? Anyway, to the point: "that's where my room is, that's where I keep my stuff" (from Little Platoons). Very appropriate for a man who can't unpack his things in case the carpet people arrive and need instant access. Carpet. I remember carpet. I had carpet once. We were heroes then.
In other news . . . there isn't really any other news. Edinburgh was mondo wonderful, briefly, and Cambridge is mondo flat forever. It's not going to have been a big month throughputwise at work, but I'm spending a few days going through everything and making sure none of the projects are being entirely neglected. My annual appraisal is due in a couple of weeks. I was informed of this in an email from from someone in personnel who (joy of joys) gets to use Micros~1 Office for all tasks. So I got a mail with 130 lines of gibberish to deliver a three-line message. My reply was slightly sarcastic - fortunately I managed to mess up sending it, so it was deleted without trace instead. So I get to have a deep and meaningful talk with Adrienne about my professional performance. Joy.
And this weekend is also Queenie's Golden Jubilee. This is really a matter of supreme indifference as far as I'm concerned, although I do get a certain amount of amusement from listening to self-appointed constitutional experts ruminating on the possibility of abdication, the succession, and so on. It's not really been the same since the departure of Norman St.John-Stevas from the scene, of course - now there was a man who could talk bollocks for Great Britain. And did. Frequently.
I've just noticed that the amount paid to the broadcast industry in subscriptions is
significantly laregr than the anmount collected in TV licence fees. And the amount from advertising is twice as much. So given this, the obvious question is whether the other channels are three times as good as the BBC. Err . . . actually, no, they're not. Nearly all of them are crap, in fact. Hmm. Given that there are people who continually moan about the inequity of the TV Licence (I used to live with one, until I pointed out that he hadn't paid for the thing - I had), I wonder if I can demand 200 pounds a year off my groceries if I promise not to watch commercial TV?
But I'd miss El Sadowici then, of course.
Hmmm. According to the Miraculous Interweb, they're actually playing reunion shows in June. Hoodathunkit? Anyway, to the point: "that's where my room is, that's where I keep my stuff" (from Little Platoons). Very appropriate for a man who can't unpack his things in case the carpet people arrive and need instant access. Carpet. I remember carpet. I had carpet once. We were heroes then.
In other news . . . there isn't really any other news. Edinburgh was mondo wonderful, briefly, and Cambridge is mondo flat forever. It's not going to have been a big month throughputwise at work, but I'm spending a few days going through everything and making sure none of the projects are being entirely neglected. My annual appraisal is due in a couple of weeks. I was informed of this in an email from from someone in personnel who (joy of joys) gets to use Micros~1 Office for all tasks. So I got a mail with 130 lines of gibberish to deliver a three-line message. My reply was slightly sarcastic - fortunately I managed to mess up sending it, so it was deleted without trace instead. So I get to have a deep and meaningful talk with Adrienne about my professional performance. Joy.
And this weekend is also Queenie's Golden Jubilee. This is really a matter of supreme indifference as far as I'm concerned, although I do get a certain amount of amusement from listening to self-appointed constitutional experts ruminating on the possibility of abdication, the succession, and so on. It's not really been the same since the departure of Norman St.John-Stevas from the scene, of course - now there was a man who could talk bollocks for Great Britain. And did. Frequently.
I've just noticed that the amount paid to the broadcast industry in subscriptions is
significantly laregr than the anmount collected in TV licence fees. And the amount from advertising is twice as much. So given this, the obvious question is whether the other channels are three times as good as the BBC. Err . . . actually, no, they're not. Nearly all of them are crap, in fact. Hmm. Given that there are people who continually moan about the inequity of the TV Licence (I used to live with one, until I pointed out that he hadn't paid for the thing - I had), I wonder if I can demand 200 pounds a year off my groceries if I promise not to watch commercial TV?
But I'd miss El Sadowici then, of course.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-05-31 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-05-31 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-05-31 03:43 am (UTC)Played much Paranoia lately?
no subject
Date: 2002-05-31 03:28 am (UTC)