caddyman: (Default)

070429 view 7
Originally uploaded by enrico_cadillac.
I have finally got around to uploading the few snaps I took from the office window to my PC and then on to flickr.

The cunningly labeled "view 1" is the scope of what I can actually see from my office window, the rest are from different vantage points around the floor.

This picture was taken by leaning right against the window and looking down past the rear of Cardinal Place from a couple of offices along. Not a panoramic view, I thought it gave an interesting look down into the narrow canyon of the street exiting onto Buckingham Palace Road next to (I think) the Huguenot Church.

If anyone is interested, the full set can be found here.:
caddyman: (Default)

070429 view 7
Originally uploaded by enrico_cadillac.
I have finally got around to uploading the few snaps I took from the office window to my PC and then on to flickr.

The cunningly labeled "view 1" is the scope of what I can actually see from my office window, the rest are from different vantage points around the floor.

This picture was taken by leaning right against the window and looking down past the rear of Cardinal Place from a couple of offices along. Not a panoramic view, I thought it gave an interesting look down into the narrow canyon of the street exiting onto Buckingham Palace Road next to (I think) the Huguenot Church.

If anyone is interested, the full set can be found here.:

Reload

Monday, August 14th, 2006 11:00 am
caddyman: (You'll believe a  man can fly)
Unlike the last picture I posted up because I thought it was funny, and got torpedoed by political correctness, I do not anticipate similar problems with this one.

That said, if there are any PC overtones, for once I am willing to kick back and listen. The reasoning will enthrall me, if not the logic.


Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


Reload

Monday, August 14th, 2006 11:00 am
caddyman: (You'll believe a  man can fly)
Unlike the last picture I posted up because I thought it was funny, and got torpedoed by political correctness, I do not anticipate similar problems with this one.

That said, if there are any PC overtones, for once I am willing to kick back and listen. The reasoning will enthrall me, if not the logic.


Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


Strange songs

Monday, April 10th, 2006 03:21 pm
caddyman: (music)
When you go will you send back a letter from America?1 or so we are enjoined by the Proclaimers, a spotty pair of Scots twins with a Harry Palmer fixation, in their world-wide hit, er… Letter from America.

It occurs to me that this is a bit rotten, and rather expensive, considering that there is generally a mailbox much closer than that. And suppose that “when you go”, you are just nipping out to the corner shop for a packet of sugar and some corn plasters? Bit of a cheek, if you ask me.

Especially when the song goes on to talk about “Miami to Canada” just a couple of lines later, in the chorus.

So, they want you to take a letter out to America, wander the length of Route 1, over the border into Canada, and post it back to them? Bit ripe, wouldn’t you say?

These are the boys who, and I quote,

“(But) I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles
To fall down at your door”


Now if they’re that barmy, I think they should deliver the letter themselves.

Presumably it’s a stunt to do with the Guinness Book of Records.

Madness, sheer madness.

I’m bored.


1 Pronounced: Wan ye gore whale-ye senbark a litter-free Americ-uh?

Strange songs

Monday, April 10th, 2006 03:21 pm
caddyman: (music)
When you go will you send back a letter from America?1 or so we are enjoined by the Proclaimers, a spotty pair of Scots twins with a Harry Palmer fixation, in their world-wide hit, er… Letter from America.

It occurs to me that this is a bit rotten, and rather expensive, considering that there is generally a mailbox much closer than that. And suppose that “when you go”, you are just nipping out to the corner shop for a packet of sugar and some corn plasters? Bit of a cheek, if you ask me.

Especially when the song goes on to talk about “Miami to Canada” just a couple of lines later, in the chorus.

So, they want you to take a letter out to America, wander the length of Route 1, over the border into Canada, and post it back to them? Bit ripe, wouldn’t you say?

These are the boys who, and I quote,

“(But) I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles
To fall down at your door”


Now if they’re that barmy, I think they should deliver the letter themselves.

Presumably it’s a stunt to do with the Guinness Book of Records.

Madness, sheer madness.

I’m bored.


1 Pronounced: Wan ye gore whale-ye senbark a litter-free Americ-uh?

(no subject)

Sunday, March 26th, 2006 03:58 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I have just impressed myself.

It's not often that you realise that you have practiced something so much that it is now second nature. Second nature to the point where you have to make a conscious decision not to do it, like not reading a notice posted up in big, friendly words on a board somewhere, or not reading the headlines on somebody else's newspaper. These are things you just do without conscious thought, and is a different level of behaviour that even say, a virtuoso musician. The maestro, no matter how gifted or talented must at least make the conscious decision to sit at or pick up the instrument before playing it, even if the playing can be done as easily as breathing and take no conscious thought of its own. Reading, however, you cannot turn off. You just read stuff if it's there, even if it is instantly unforgettable.

I have achieved this level of excellence with activity displacement.

I have been just about to sit down and write since 2 o'clock. Without thinking about it, I instead went out and bought groceries. When I cam back, I managed to occupy my time quite nicely without a single conscious thought, and it was only on my fourth descent of the stairs to pick up something I don't really need, that it occurred to me that I was simply avoiding getting on with writing.

And I'm doing it AGAIN!

Right. WRITE.

(no subject)

Sunday, March 26th, 2006 03:58 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I have just impressed myself.

It's not often that you realise that you have practiced something so much that it is now second nature. Second nature to the point where you have to make a conscious decision not to do it, like not reading a notice posted up in big, friendly words on a board somewhere, or not reading the headlines on somebody else's newspaper. These are things you just do without conscious thought, and is a different level of behaviour that even say, a virtuoso musician. The maestro, no matter how gifted or talented must at least make the conscious decision to sit at or pick up the instrument before playing it, even if the playing can be done as easily as breathing and take no conscious thought of its own. Reading, however, you cannot turn off. You just read stuff if it's there, even if it is instantly unforgettable.

I have achieved this level of excellence with activity displacement.

I have been just about to sit down and write since 2 o'clock. Without thinking about it, I instead went out and bought groceries. When I cam back, I managed to occupy my time quite nicely without a single conscious thought, and it was only on my fourth descent of the stairs to pick up something I don't really need, that it occurred to me that I was simply avoiding getting on with writing.

And I'm doing it AGAIN!

Right. WRITE.
caddyman: (Psychedelic)
Any minute now I am going to crack on with writing another NWO character. I am. Definitely. Absolutely.

I have put it off all morning and so far this afternoon, but nothing will prevent me from launching at it this afternoon with gusto. Indeed not. I am about to become Mr Focused, and I shall brook no distractions. Not one. I do not know the meaning of the word prevarication.

Which reminds me; what is it with Freeview (free digital telly for those of you not of the UK bent)? My digibox keeps telling me that it has found new updates and demanding that I retune it. I oblige and find that nothing has changed. Except this morning, when it stated grandly that it had found additional services, but a quick retune tells me that in fact I have lost 9 channels including More 4 (though not, bizarrely, More 4 +1, which is the same channel broadcast an hour later...).

Problem is, see, that despite living atop a hill in north London, no more than twenty minutes from the Alexandra Palace transmitter, all the digital signals slink northward across the smog-bound depths of central London from the Crystal Palace transmitter which is nearer thirty miles away. This shouldn't make too much of a difference, but there is simply not enough digital left over by the time it gets to me. It's all been sucked up by the antennae of all those houses between me and it, and as it's raining and windy today, what's left gets water logged. This means that the signals are too wet and heavy to get up the hill to me and my digibox. Later, when it dries out and the signal loses that additional watery weight, I shall have the channels back as they should be, but for now, I am not getting my full range of rubbish digital telly. Actually, that's not strictly true. Whilst ITV4 has temporarily disappeared, QVC, Price Drop TV and Bid-Up TV remain as strong as ever, providing further evidence for the theory that the channels no-one wants or watches do not have the strength sucked out of them by over-viewing between the transmitter and me.

Oh well, I shall retune in a few hours and I shall be back up to 55 channels, of which I really only want about 12.

I suppose I'd better do some writing now, before I get distracted.

I am focused today, see.
caddyman: (Psychedelic)
Any minute now I am going to crack on with writing another NWO character. I am. Definitely. Absolutely.

I have put it off all morning and so far this afternoon, but nothing will prevent me from launching at it this afternoon with gusto. Indeed not. I am about to become Mr Focused, and I shall brook no distractions. Not one. I do not know the meaning of the word prevarication.

Which reminds me; what is it with Freeview (free digital telly for those of you not of the UK bent)? My digibox keeps telling me that it has found new updates and demanding that I retune it. I oblige and find that nothing has changed. Except this morning, when it stated grandly that it had found additional services, but a quick retune tells me that in fact I have lost 9 channels including More 4 (though not, bizarrely, More 4 +1, which is the same channel broadcast an hour later...).

Problem is, see, that despite living atop a hill in north London, no more than twenty minutes from the Alexandra Palace transmitter, all the digital signals slink northward across the smog-bound depths of central London from the Crystal Palace transmitter which is nearer thirty miles away. This shouldn't make too much of a difference, but there is simply not enough digital left over by the time it gets to me. It's all been sucked up by the antennae of all those houses between me and it, and as it's raining and windy today, what's left gets water logged. This means that the signals are too wet and heavy to get up the hill to me and my digibox. Later, when it dries out and the signal loses that additional watery weight, I shall have the channels back as they should be, but for now, I am not getting my full range of rubbish digital telly. Actually, that's not strictly true. Whilst ITV4 has temporarily disappeared, QVC, Price Drop TV and Bid-Up TV remain as strong as ever, providing further evidence for the theory that the channels no-one wants or watches do not have the strength sucked out of them by over-viewing between the transmitter and me.

Oh well, I shall retune in a few hours and I shall be back up to 55 channels, of which I really only want about 12.

I suppose I'd better do some writing now, before I get distracted.

I am focused today, see.

It lives, it lives!

Thursday, February 9th, 2006 11:13 am
caddyman: (Default)
I’m not quite sure how I slept last night.

Or rather I slept fine, thanks for asking, but I’m not sure about the pillow to bonce positional relationship that must have developed for a goodly portion of the night.

I woke up this morning with a crease down the side of my face from just above my right ear, diagonally down my cheek and onto my chin where it faded out. Now I rarely look my best first thing in the morning, a night of sleeping on my side means that gravity drags everything over to that side and I generally end up looking bleary eyed and lopsided for the first hour until said gravity drags everything back into its approximate position.

Even at that point I am not, even by my own standards, an oil painting, but at least my face begins to look like the one I had yesterday at that stage. I almost never wake up with an additional crease, though.

Wrinkles are another matter, of course. I long gave up on worrying about the inevitable march of time across my physog in its size 15 bovver boots. At age 47 you can’t expect to look like a fresh-faced youth, unless you have vast amounts of disposable income and no fear of the knife. Even then there is a chance that you will look like some bizarre, shiny brown android1 (George Hamilton, j’accuse). No, I rather had hopes that as the hair receded and the wrinkles joined up, I could attempt a Sid James style of face: cheerfully lived in.

In the event, I think the bugger is too malleable (Hmm… Botox, maybe…?). As I said above, first thing in the morning, it’s all over to one side. An hour later it’s all in the right place, but still dishevelled. Two hours in, and gravity has done its work, and dragged everything down somewhat, the worst wrinkles are ironed out and for the next few hours my face looks about as good as it ever does2. Unfortunately, from about 8 in the evening until I go to bed again, gravity continues its work and by about 11pm I start to look like a bloodhound, complete with bloodshot eyes. So then to bed, and the cycle starts anew.

Just my luck to have a silly putty face; I wanted craggy.


1The Thursday evening games mob will notice a theme here, since in our Champions game I am currently playing Sentinel, a naïve, bizarre, shiny brown android.

2Which isn’t saying much, admittedly.

It lives, it lives!

Thursday, February 9th, 2006 11:13 am
caddyman: (Default)
I’m not quite sure how I slept last night.

Or rather I slept fine, thanks for asking, but I’m not sure about the pillow to bonce positional relationship that must have developed for a goodly portion of the night.

I woke up this morning with a crease down the side of my face from just above my right ear, diagonally down my cheek and onto my chin where it faded out. Now I rarely look my best first thing in the morning, a night of sleeping on my side means that gravity drags everything over to that side and I generally end up looking bleary eyed and lopsided for the first hour until said gravity drags everything back into its approximate position.

Even at that point I am not, even by my own standards, an oil painting, but at least my face begins to look like the one I had yesterday at that stage. I almost never wake up with an additional crease, though.

Wrinkles are another matter, of course. I long gave up on worrying about the inevitable march of time across my physog in its size 15 bovver boots. At age 47 you can’t expect to look like a fresh-faced youth, unless you have vast amounts of disposable income and no fear of the knife. Even then there is a chance that you will look like some bizarre, shiny brown android1 (George Hamilton, j’accuse). No, I rather had hopes that as the hair receded and the wrinkles joined up, I could attempt a Sid James style of face: cheerfully lived in.

In the event, I think the bugger is too malleable (Hmm… Botox, maybe…?). As I said above, first thing in the morning, it’s all over to one side. An hour later it’s all in the right place, but still dishevelled. Two hours in, and gravity has done its work, and dragged everything down somewhat, the worst wrinkles are ironed out and for the next few hours my face looks about as good as it ever does2. Unfortunately, from about 8 in the evening until I go to bed again, gravity continues its work and by about 11pm I start to look like a bloodhound, complete with bloodshot eyes. So then to bed, and the cycle starts anew.

Just my luck to have a silly putty face; I wanted craggy.


1The Thursday evening games mob will notice a theme here, since in our Champions game I am currently playing Sentinel, a naïve, bizarre, shiny brown android.

2Which isn’t saying much, admittedly.
caddyman: (Default)
I write this in the full knowledge that I am not being very politically correct. So no change there. Anyway, the people most likely to be upset by the idea won’t be able to read it.

Following on from yesterday’s post, I find myself wondering why people who have dyslexia aren’t good at anagrams. Or rather when presented with an anagram, they should just copy it out in the knowledge that there is a good chance that a real word will emerge. Depending on how you pitch the idea, this could be a valuable service to both crossword solvers and setters.

Talking of anagrams, it occurs to me that dyslexia is an anagram of daily sex.

My spelling would go out of the window too, if I was getting any that much.
caddyman: (Default)
I write this in the full knowledge that I am not being very politically correct. So no change there. Anyway, the people most likely to be upset by the idea won’t be able to read it.

Following on from yesterday’s post, I find myself wondering why people who have dyslexia aren’t good at anagrams. Or rather when presented with an anagram, they should just copy it out in the knowledge that there is a good chance that a real word will emerge. Depending on how you pitch the idea, this could be a valuable service to both crossword solvers and setters.

Talking of anagrams, it occurs to me that dyslexia is an anagram of daily sex.

My spelling would go out of the window too, if I was getting any that much.

Distracted

Wednesday, August 31st, 2005 01:27 am
caddyman: (Default)
Beguiled as I have been, by the potential of these various applications I now have, I have managed to waste an entire evening - part of it by nattering, not necessarily profitably, with [livejournal.com profile] romney and [livejournal.com profile] boroshan. We three are Skyped to the max and decided to try out the conference function. We are clearly not used to the software, yet.

As long as any two of us were online, it all worked as advertised, but three seems to be pushing it - which is a bore since that's why we were using the bugger in the first place. With no change in settings from me, it appears that my microphone just got quieter and quieter over the evening, whilst [livejournal.com profile] boroshan would move from very clear to sounding like he was talking from inside a full aquarium in Timbuktu, an effect at times, not unlike the Aquaphibians from Gerry Anderson's oldie but goldie, Stingray.

Clearly we have some further refinements to make before this all works quite the way we envisaged. Not least the inter-person protocols. At one point, much to the consternation of the software and the participants, we all tried to dial each other up at the same time.

Hilarity ensued. Only as in not funny. Oh well.

Tomorrow night, I shall not be logging in on any communications variant, as I really want to get some more writing done, and I am still finding it difficult to get a flow going. All this fancy comms tech is just getting in the way, right now, so surf silent, surf deep and alert no-one to your online presence is the motto for Wednesday. Maybe that way I can write more than one and a half sentences in two hours.

Distracted

Wednesday, August 31st, 2005 01:27 am
caddyman: (Default)
Beguiled as I have been, by the potential of these various applications I now have, I have managed to waste an entire evening - part of it by nattering, not necessarily profitably, with [livejournal.com profile] romney and [livejournal.com profile] boroshan. We three are Skyped to the max and decided to try out the conference function. We are clearly not used to the software, yet.

As long as any two of us were online, it all worked as advertised, but three seems to be pushing it - which is a bore since that's why we were using the bugger in the first place. With no change in settings from me, it appears that my microphone just got quieter and quieter over the evening, whilst [livejournal.com profile] boroshan would move from very clear to sounding like he was talking from inside a full aquarium in Timbuktu, an effect at times, not unlike the Aquaphibians from Gerry Anderson's oldie but goldie, Stingray.

Clearly we have some further refinements to make before this all works quite the way we envisaged. Not least the inter-person protocols. At one point, much to the consternation of the software and the participants, we all tried to dial each other up at the same time.

Hilarity ensued. Only as in not funny. Oh well.

Tomorrow night, I shall not be logging in on any communications variant, as I really want to get some more writing done, and I am still finding it difficult to get a flow going. All this fancy comms tech is just getting in the way, right now, so surf silent, surf deep and alert no-one to your online presence is the motto for Wednesday. Maybe that way I can write more than one and a half sentences in two hours.

Applied hypocrisy

Tuesday, June 21st, 2005 12:30 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I decided some time back, that I really don't like memes1; but I find myself doing the occasional one anyway. I suppose it depends upon the meme in question – those that demand a little thought are clearly preferable to those with happy, hazy graphics that tell you what your granny's maiden name was in Swahili, and which almost always bugger up the formatting of your friends' page. All in all they are just a lazy way of suggesting that we are still alive, but haven't got anything to enter into our LJ.

So, in the pursuit of satire, and not a little hypocrisy, I am creating a new meme; the meme to end all memes – and a testament to navel gazing:

The "My five favourite memes" meme.

Simply list the five most enjoyable pieces of time wasting self-indulgence you have encountered on live journal and post them into your own journal. Then sit back and revel in the delicious irony of it all.

It's that simple2.

My list, in no particular order:

My ten favourite books;
My ten favourite films;
The last ten tracks randomly played by my MP3 player (a particular and perennial favourite of mine);
My ten favourite songs/albums;
A hundred things you never knew about (somebody).


See, it's easy. And it fills otherwise empty bandwidth with something completely inconsequential, which is the only thing you really need from the meme of memes.


1-and I'm still not convinced that memes and these odd little things we fill out and spread around are the same thing. Still, popular usage and all that.

2It would have to be; it was me who thought of it.

Applied hypocrisy

Tuesday, June 21st, 2005 12:30 pm
caddyman: (Default)
I decided some time back, that I really don't like memes1; but I find myself doing the occasional one anyway. I suppose it depends upon the meme in question – those that demand a little thought are clearly preferable to those with happy, hazy graphics that tell you what your granny's maiden name was in Swahili, and which almost always bugger up the formatting of your friends' page. All in all they are just a lazy way of suggesting that we are still alive, but haven't got anything to enter into our LJ.

So, in the pursuit of satire, and not a little hypocrisy, I am creating a new meme; the meme to end all memes – and a testament to navel gazing:

The "My five favourite memes" meme.

Simply list the five most enjoyable pieces of time wasting self-indulgence you have encountered on live journal and post them into your own journal. Then sit back and revel in the delicious irony of it all.

It's that simple2.

My list, in no particular order:

My ten favourite books;
My ten favourite films;
The last ten tracks randomly played by my MP3 player (a particular and perennial favourite of mine);
My ten favourite songs/albums;
A hundred things you never knew about (somebody).


See, it's easy. And it fills otherwise empty bandwidth with something completely inconsequential, which is the only thing you really need from the meme of memes.


1-and I'm still not convinced that memes and these odd little things we fill out and spread around are the same thing. Still, popular usage and all that.

2It would have to be; it was me who thought of it.

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