Computers, comestibles, and conflict.

[zotz]

I went into town from work yesterday to try to get to the nearest thing to a decent record shop in this town before it closed, but I missed it so I had to go to HMV instead. I did, though, have the very uplifting experience of buying the new throwing Muses album off someone who seems to be almost as sad a fanboy as myself. We chatted for a few minutes - nice bloke - and then I wandered homewards with that, Hersh's solo effort and the Twenty Years Of Dischord compilation that leapt off the racks into my basket as I wandered past. I didn't actually make it home for a fair while, because I was accosted outside Pizza Express by simont, sphyg and several other local computery notables. One pizza and some very odd conversation later I wandered home and didn't put the album on, because by the time I'd read the paper I was too tired to stay up.



I didn't sleep all that well, and by this morning it was obvious that I'm going down with something. It's not anything dramatic - I've got a gland up under my chin and I'm feeling generally and nonspecifically unwell. Hopefully it won't last too long (as in, hopefully it'll be gone by Thursday evening, although I'll have to be at death's door not to make the concert). I felt a lot worse after I left the house, but I got picked up at the bus stop by Anne and driven in, after which time sitting down I felt a bit better. I should get through the day OK.

Of course, given that i have an Important New Record that I simply must spend the day listening to, darlings, the CD player here has decided that it's time to be broken. The right channel's about dead (unless Th'Muses have decided to be very avant-garde with their stereo imaging, of course), which annoys me just a little.

Also, some subcloning work I asked for two or three months back was finished and returned about three weeks ago and nobody told me. Charming. I've been fiddling with it this morning, and it seems to have done everything I wanted it to - so I could have been finished this project (last month, probably) if there was some rational system of telling people what happened to their work requests.

Oh well.

In other news, Robin Cook's resigned (good on ya, Rob - the tabloids never liked you, but that's a bonus in my book) and Clare Short apparently hasn't and won't (eh? That's her screwed, then). It looks very much like the tanks will be rolling soon - as various people including swisstone have pointed out, the dark of the moon's two weeks off yet, so that looks a likely time. They could jump earlier in the hope of surprising their vict^H^H^H^Henemies, but holding until then would be logical. This leaves us two weeks to arrange a nasty political mugging for Young Tone. I'm not optimistic, but it has to be tried.

And what's going to happen, probably? Well, there'll be a war and people will die. Probably quite a lot of people, going by the last one we fought in the area. This would in itself be justifiable under some circumstances, but I don't trust Our Glorious Leaders to act in the interests of the long-suffering plebs of the area. Thinking about the record of Dubya, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz and (especially) Perle, I get a feeling that we will be helping them put in another convenient strongman.

So I'm angry, I'm ill and . . . well, I don't want to get too melodramatic, so let's leave it there, shall we?