Friday Ephemera (813)
At last, toilet lasers. || The alphabetical clock. || Today’s words are bear suit insurance fraud. || In Chinese car-making news. It’s voice-controlled and comes with a fan. || Amenities on high. || Chopped ham and eggs. || A map of cheese. Semi-hard buffalo cheese, Mongolian horse cheese, it’s all in there. || Four minutes of near misses. || The thing you’re thinking with. || Why the dryer wouldn’t work. || A Rear Window timelapse. || A racist tool. || “Tyres for moon traversal were still a novel idea in 1971.” || Not entirely perfect. || On crime prevention. || Vortex. || Suburban bear relocation. || Assorted birdsong. || The French and their stilt dancing. || Fat old guy in pants twerks for the kiddies. || Via Elephants Gerald, tracking fencing tips. || And finally, they had insufficient fuel.
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Oh, and lest we forget, this is blog preservation fundraising week.
Neither I. I did recall you mentioning Laumer & thought it might be of passing interest.
HUMAN ERROR.
And I thank you. I will poke around our library network’s online catalog.
Speaking of interesting things:
Patrick O’Brian’s nonfiction book Men of War: Life in Nelson’s Navy, recently republished after a long hiatus.
In this case the worst I can be charged with is making a run of the mill assumption.
The original text was ‘For @pst314’, with which I associated a hyperlink. The linkage worked when tested prior to posting. It was after posting that the fun began. When edited, the linkage again worked as desired. After the problem persisted in ‘production’, so to speak, I re-wrote the text so as to disassociate the hyperlink from the ‘@pst314’.
‘Tetchy technology’ stands.
Even the cows are feeling a bit judgemental.
For the last week or so, I’ve noticed a weirdly high number of glitches and software bugs across various, seemingly unrelated platforms, with a frequency that seemed almost spooky. I was rebooting this, reinstalling that, while muttering and cursing the entire time. As I could find no common cause, I’m assuming it was just some random clumping of minor irritations.
That, or Muldoon was rubbing his trousers again.
[ Quickly glances through slim elegant volume. ]
Little mention of rum and the lash, none of sodomy.
I suppose it’s possible that the root causes were glitches in a very few services used by those otherwise unrelated platforms.
Nor does cannibalism appear in any of his works. A strange omission.
I don’t clump.
Which all one can expect from GenZ code monkeys. I have on, BTW, my buffalo and birch bark pants on today. Comletely anti-static and sustainable.
That story immediately recalled to mind how Dr. Maturin smuggled Capt. Aubrey out of France and into Spain in the second or third book of the series.
Oooh – I must check this out. And that Mad Mad Galaxy book sounds interesting too.
Backstory?
Ooh. Sliced pears and double cream.