Alasdair Watson

So, Andrew’s working, Marysia’s out leading her glamorous secret life (I have no idea what she’s doing, but this seems a good bet to me) and Fin’s at a party until later. So I’m enjoying a night in on my own. I’ve just finished off dinner with a toasted soda farl, and when I went to put the butter away, I noticed something in our fridge that I hadn’t spotter previously.

Oak-smoked garlic honey.

Now normally, I’d say I love garlic as much as the next man, but it’s becoming clear to me that when the next man is Andrew, this may a rash claim.

What d’you mean, no nukes? We’ve got papers, and everything!

I firmly believe that the best way to deal with something to big to judge is to find the smaller parts to it. Don’t break the issue apart, but do spend time looking at the details. The small, human elements. They’ll give you the keys to the bigger picture.

I was screaming at the TV last night, watching the news. It was sick and disgusting. We were on the eve of war, about to be made culpable in a crime commited by governments who have forgotten that they exist to enact the will of the people, not the will of big business, and what was the BBC reporting on?

An American soldier phoning home to ask his girlfriend to marry him. In fact, they lent him a mobile so that he could do it there and the, on camera. Having made a performing monkey out of him, and beamed it into our living rooms, undre the pretext that this was keeping us informed, that this was news. I was screaming at the TV. Sure, this was a small, human story, but the things is, if you’re looking at the details, then you’ve got to be sure that you’re looking at the right ones, and, importantly, that you’re not missing other importants ones because you’re looking somewhere else.

Now, I don’t normally have a lot of time for Starhawk. I’m not sure why. I think it’s the bloody stupid name that puts me off. But I think I probably ought to pay a bit more attention, because it sounds to me like she’s got an eye for detail.

This is the stuff we have to make sure we don’t miss, because it’s the stuff that reminds us exactly what we’re now responsible for.

(link found via Marysia)

(Edit to add: I’m advised that the story is rather more complex than Starhawk’s view suggests – that Rachel Corrie’s death was an accident, and that the Israeli authorities were attemping to destroy a tunnel that was being use to smuggle weapons. Details, like I said.)

So it turns out it’s my birthday on Tuesday. This has come as something of a surprise to me. I mean, I know when my brithday is, but until I looked at the date today, I hadn’t realised it was so close. I knew it was coming up soon, what with it being March and all, but I seem to have blinked and missed the first three weeks of the month. So yes, I’m turning 26 on Tuesday. MyAmazon wishlist is here. I am planning to do something to celebrate my Birthday in May or June (more likely June) when I hope to be cheerfully solvent again. I don’t know what, yet. More details later.

In other news: gym-going is more-or-less to plan, which is to say that my aches and pains have aches and pains. War remains a bad and stupid thing.

One of my two large bookshelves collapsed last night. Died completely, just as we were falling asleep. Spilled two-thirds of my CD collection, and almost all my graphic novels all over my room. Half my life is currently in small piles all over the floor of my room.

I’d like to go a week without something breaking. D’you think we could arrange that?

I buy my coffee as whole beans from a woman at a market near where I live – Merton Abbey Mills as Collier’s Wood. So I was along there today for the vanilla and cinnamon coffees I depend on, and it turns out that she has another semi-regular customer who knows me. She didn’t get the person’s name, but apparently, there’s a woman I know who looks a little bit like me, with an apparently similar manner of speaking who shops for coffee at Merton Abbey Mills.

Anyone reading this want to put their hand in the air, because I’m baffled?

Attention conservation notice: whinging.

It’s not often I find myself longing to get back to work on Monday, but frankly, the weekend is half-over and so far, it has pretty much just sucked. Fin was unwell yesterday, so I didn’t get to see her. Then I fell asleep earlier than I meant to, and wasted half of yesterday evening. I went to get a smoothie for breakfast today – my plums had gone off, despite being all of four days old. Then our ADSL router broke – we’re back to “hand round the broadband” until we can get a replacement. But I spent most of the afternoon trying to fix it, and not working, as I’d planned before determining that it had died. So I stayed in to catch up, rather than go to the pub and see my friends.

After three hours of work, I still can’t get CSS to do what I want. I’m getting closer, but I reckon I’ve got another couple of hours work to do. Except that, because Fin had to rehearse today, I’ve got to go get a bus to Wallington to see her. She has to rehearse tomorrow, as well, so I’m not even going to get that time with her. I try really hard not to resent the fact that her bands take away almost every Sunday and ever other Satuday, but some days it’s easier than others.

Oh, and it turns out I have no money . At all. I have only debt. It’ll probably be May before any of you see me out and about again. I’m not even planning to go out to celebrate my birthday in a couple of weeks.

Good night.

In reference to that last post: the more absurd and hateful I sound, the less likely I am to be serious, even if what I’m talking about is a serious subject. I overplay bile for comedy. I am sorry if you do not find it funny. I am not going to stop doing so. I do not hate Americans or any other nationality, race, colour, or creed. I do loathe the American government, although I also loathe my own, so don’t think you’re special.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled cheap laughs. Please stop e-mailing me.

I want America off the face of the planet. Scoured clean. Devoid of life. Gone. It seems that this is the only way we’re going to be free of utter barbarism like this. Indifference to civilian casualties is inexcusable. Indifference to casualties among your own press is unforgiveable. Anyone got any nukes they can spare me?

Spent last night sitting in the lounge watching TV with Andrew and Marysia, while working on the 9A redesign. When I first suggested that I might look at re-designing this site in CSS (as I have, albeit with an off-the-shelf template) someone e-mailed me to say that once I did, I’d never go back to tables.

They were right. Sure, I had a bit of frustration on the way, but no more than I’ve had from table-based designs in the past. But the page code is about half the size that the table-based version was, and is much, much easier read and plug things into – the old style is a nightmare when it comes to breaking things out into separate chunks to be included/modified with PHP. This will be a piece of piss. Tonight, I’m going to work on the new, context-sensitive site nav, if I have the time. I seem to recall that I have it mostly written, it’s just a matter of making it pretty. Which will be easy, thanks to CSS.

No, there was no actual interesting content in that post. Piss off.