Dear Me

Sep. 30th, 2006 11:30 pm
liadnan: (Default)

SixApart/Livejournal fucks up again...on the communication front if nothing else.

(1) (currently 42 pages of unimpressed comments)

(2) (Slashdot picks up)

(3) (Brad brought in to calm things down...)

Do we think Mr Fitzpatrick is perhaps becoming a mite pissed off with the people who bought his baby?

Not that I particularly give a toss about ads, or any of these kerfuffles myself, though I am mildly interested in this idea.

Totally unconnected, but a snippet from some "100 Best" thing on while I typed the above: "Chris de Burgh's Lady in Red is one of the few things I can think of that has no redeeming features whatsoever."

liadnan: (Default)

The introductory paragraph above the fold seems to amount to little more than Women! Know Your Place.

What an offensive shit the man is. And this on the labour party website, as part of "Labour's 2006 World Cup Blog" (why, anyway?). "Views expressed in this blog and in the comments are the views of the individuals and are not those of the Labour Party. The Labour Party takes no responsibility for comments posted on this site." My arse. I'd like to see them try and escape liability via that disclaimer if he wrote something defamatory.

For the record, incidentally, I know nothing about football and care less, and no the World Cup isn't going to change that.

liadnan: (Default)

.. and then he drinks another gin drink. And then another gin drink. And then another gin drink. And then starts feeling miserable about Everything.

Has anyone ever investigated precisely how it is that Gin does this?

But doesn't have a hangover and spends the next evening on 12 star Metaxa, a wonderful intoxicant that should be more widely appreciated.

In other news, via John and Belle the depressing proof that Bono is still kind of a cock. Depressing because I'd kind of rediscovered (old) U2 recently. Now I'm reminded how exactly he managed to reach quite so far up my nose.

Ah well.

Ian McDonald has a livejournal. And pretty much all of you who might be interested in this already knew this, and had subscribed. Can you explain why, precisely, no one saw fit to tell me?

And there's a new Lindsey Davis. I managed to stick to my moratorium, but my suspicion, that Greece was pretty much the only bit of Vespasian's empire she hadn't touched yet and was therefore the likely new Abroad setting, has proved correct.

liadnan: (Default)

(Via, of all people, Boris.)

I suppose it was only a matter of time.

[Technorati] now estimates that the number of blogs in existence has exceeded 4.8 million, although some speculate that less than a quarter are regularly maintained.

I know some people are snobby about livejournal, but, um, there are some 5,000,000 accounts here alone.

liadnan: (Default)

Daughter arrigned on murder charges

In a final entry last Thursday, Waterman wrote that her mother had been murdered and that she would not have computer access for a few days because police were confiscating it, KRBD reported.

Said last post is here.

I wonder whether livejournal are going to step in on this one. Those she lists as friends appear to be taking something of a battering too.

ETA: well, someone's locked it down.

liadnan: (Default)

Raed Jarrar,-who first came to the world's attention as the "Dear Raed" of Salaam Pax's blog, recently opened comments on his own blog. The result has been depressingly unsurprising

liadnan: (Default)

You WHAT? -Journal entry leads to FBI/CIA investigation. At least, so the author says: I know nothing about her but it seems an unlikely story to make up and from the rest of her journal she seems sane... (Link from Quixotic Kitten)

Some other links, that in my painkiller fuelled world seem to connect in some way to paint a picture of a seriously fucked-up world:

Bush website blocked outside North America (and see also Crooked Timber)

The fallout from what I continue to think was a rather twattish idea of the Grauniad's.

And on a rather different note, Queen of the Sky suspended by Delta for "inappropriate" photographs on her blog (no one seems entirely sure what was so inappropriate about them).

ETA that it is now time for episode 2 of The Power of Nightmares

Edited to further add, because they seem to belong here, two other bits from Crooked Timber:

The ridiculous row about Charlie Brooker's throwaway comment in the Guardian listings mag;

and On bombing Fallujah because they "won't hand over Zarquawi".

"I am, as a result haunted by a nightmare in which I am flying in a helicopter gunship above the town of Fallujah, looking down on the wrecked buildings and bodies below. I find myself having a conversation, through a megaphone, with one of the residents:

Me: Just hand over Zarqawi and we’ll let you live!
Resident: OK! OK! We’re having a bit of trouble finding him!
Me: A likely story! Bomb them again, Lurch!
Resident: Could you just give us a hand? Like maybe tell us where in Fallujah he’s staying?
Me: I don’t know. But we have excellent intelligence that tells us that you’re harbouring him! Bomb that coffee shop, Lurch, it looks like an ammo dump!
Resident: Well, what does he look like?
Me: Everyone knows what Zarqawi looks like! You’re just playing for time! Bomb him again!
Resident: Well, how many legs does he have? Give us something to work with here!

And at that point I wake up, screaming."

liadnan: (Default)

Boris (?: unsigned) puts his foot in it re: Ken Bigley and, more significantly, Hillsborough (free registration required, bugmenot probably has one).

Apology on behalf of Boris on his blog, with comments and trackbacks.

Earlier, pre-edit version of apology still (as of 16 Oct 2004 18:50) surviving through livejournal's syndication...

Hmm. I've always suspected Boris is a lot smarter than his deliberately concocted image (and a friend who was at school with him concurs). Now I'm much less sure, unless, as is being suggested, the author was someone else (apparently the favourite on some internet betting site is the obnoxious Mark Steyn).

Whatever. Off to Bradleys to drink and eat, in that order, with the usual suspects.

liadnan: (Default)

Have just been either busy or bored. Given that my current choice is between writing a livejournal entry or joining others in the pub, you ain't going to get much now either.

Still, news that A South African man has been found guilty of killing an interior designer after she criticised his curtains (courtesy of Maccers) always bears repeating.

liadnan: (Default)

When I had big interweb put in many people, including Big Interweb Provider, told me to install a firewall. Which I duly did, for I am not a fool, though at some point I do need to persuade one of those Lovely Geeks among you to come round and check I am indeed not doing the internet equivalent of lying in a gutter near Kings Cross at 1AM on a Saturday morning, legs akimbo and shouting "come and take me Big Boy." But I digress.

The point is, I now realise that what I really need is a reverse firewall. Something that will stop me sending messages and posts out into the ether while drunk, or at least, while drunk and morose (for, I hasten to add, no particularly good reason), as I look back fondly at my dissertation on the Culture List dealing in extenso with the green lights around Canary Wharf Tower, written at 2AM after a particularly splendid Inn Dinner.

Perhaps I should abandon that line of thought. Let me instead share with you some Tube-Fu, used only this evening. When standing at Tottenham Court Road, the Tube-Master notices that the first train, to Edgware, is 5 minutes away, and the train after that is 6 minutes away, and also to Edgware. The wise man knows that the better course is to hang back and take the second train. (If one wishes to go to Edgware, obvs. If one wanted the High Barnet branch it might still be the right train, but there would be other variables.)

But the true Tube-Master knows better. The true Tube-Master remains in the body of the crowd as though intending to take the first train. But when it arrives he carefully manipulates his approach so that the person before him is the last person on the train. As the rammed tube crawls away into the darkness, the true Tube-Master is left not only with a minute to wait for a near-empty tube, but at the front of the waiting crowd and able to position himself perfectly on the expected point of opening of the doors (if heading for Chalk Farm from TCR, the trailing edge of the lead door... oh, don't ask, it mainly has to do with where the people coming off will head).

The ultimate True Tube Master can then exchange congratulatory smiles with the Other True Tube Master next to him. If she is a cute woman, so much the better.

Writing this while vaguely watching re-runs of Sex and the City series one. Much more interesting back then, and intriguing to see how the style changed: much more narrated through the medium of Carrie's column back then.


Mar. 18th, 2004 03:10 pm
liadnan: (Default)

I'm fucking furious: I've lost my pencilcase. Which doesn't sound like much, but (a) I've had it for years, it was leather, and I'm fond of it; and (b) it contained an antique Parker Duofold I was given by my mother when I was 18, a yardoled silver propelling pencil I was given by my godmother when I was 21 (and have you any idea how much those things cost) and the tiny brass Athenian owl I've carried around as a mascot for more than 20 years.

I suspect it's a result of being extremely drunk in the Bierodrome last night and having a crap bag that things fall out of. But I've retraced most of my steps last night, so far as I remember them, and no one seems to have it in their lost property.


Heigh ho. The vague muffled memories of last night are good ones. I have a suspicion I passed up an Opportunity because I thought they were too drunk to know what they wanted though. More fool me. Don't even have a phone number, though I think she has mine, for what that's worth.


I'm keeping an eye on I am Belle De Jour, because some of the responses are quite funny and there seem to be more by the minute, though unsurprisingly a fair proportion are a bit unoriginal. Interestingly, more than one person has suggested that BdJ is actually Lisa Hilton, which wouldn't entirely shock me, having read some of her work. Frankie, red11: either of you remember her?

Meanwhile, yesterday's Private Eye had a piece "copyright all newspapers" on "Who Is BelledeJour (cont. p94)"

And also a long, and fascinating, report by Paul Foot on the lunacy that is the PFI. Loony even in the opinion of many of Thatcher and Major's minions, it would seem. But that has nothing to do with this.


Off Away until next Tues.

(Edited to Add: Apparently, there is a god and I owe the charity of their choice thirty quid. Was in the Bierodrome after all, contents intact, just hadn't reached the lost property office.)


Mar. 17th, 2004 03:59 pm
liadnan: (Default)

There are barristers in this inn who are younger than I am but seem to make a point of looking about 45. And a boring 45 at that, none of Alan's air of having lived life to the full. Christ, while I agree it's important to look professional when dealing with clients or in court, and long hair and jewellery on men don't go down too well in the High Court, there's a difference between that and looking like a total dweeb every hour of every working day.

Just went to the bank to pick up some foreign currency I ordered yesterday for a forthcoming Adventure (for various reasons I shan't explain more until it's happened).

Turns out they had a Real Proper Heist this morning, security van taken at gunpoint an' all. One knows these things happen but I'm still slightly taken aback when they happen Here! In High Holborn! To My Money!

Edited to Add, since this is a run-of-the-mill ramshackle bits and bobs post.. Confess Here To Being BelledeJour. Brilliant. (See here if you're confuserated.)


Mar. 1st, 2004 01:57 pm
liadnan: (Default)

Welsh whisky returns after 100 odd years. Well, I'll give it a go.

Descending from the sublime to the semi-scatalogical, The Scary Duck has some wise words of wisdom for us all on the dangers of confusing pile cream with toothpaste. You should all take it to heart. If not elsewhere.

I may post a proper post later. Or I may not. I like to keep a certain sense of uncertainty and anticipation alive in the world. More to the point, I'm quite busy and a bit flu-y.

(Edited to add: I'm also watching with some fascination the storm Brad's kicked off by being somewhat less than complimentary about the deceased Marxist economist Paul Sweezy. Not that I actually know anything about Sweezy or his views: indeed it's just the perverse pleasure I receive from watching the bitter debates of others from the sidelines.)

liadnan: (Default)

I feel like shite and I have a nominal trial tomorrow in Cambridge (nominal in that we've resolved everything except costs). Bah humbug.

I discovered via a chance-heard thing on Radio 4 that Bill Bailey has a weblog, here . The comments alone make it worth reading. Doesn't seem to be an RSS feed sadly, but Black Books 3 will be on Channel 4 next month, apparently.

I went over to Soho for lunch, for various reasons. As I was coming out, thinking about anything and everything save what I was doing and where I was going (about Part 48 of the Civil Procedure Rules, mainly; a recipe for brain damage if ever there was one) I bumped into a shortish man who was also not looking where he was going (the Coach and Horses as it turned out). He looked vaguely familiar so I smiled at him as I began to mutter apologies.. it wasn't until he cut in with "my fault" that I realised it was Ian Hislop, presumably on his way to the notorious Private Eye lunch. Hurrah. I make a habit of this actually: it is but a few months since I came round the corner by The Ivy and cannoned straight into El Paxman. Who is much taller than one would imagine. (Entirely my fault that time.)

You should try it, it's much more entertaining than ordinary slebspotting.

liadnan: (Default)

Culture peeps now say hi to Etherealfionna. This is getting to be a habit...

Am knackered.


Jun. 3rd, 2003 02:48 pm
liadnan: (Default)

Culture peeps say hi to Rparvaaz by the way.

liadnan: (Default)

See, this is how being a barrister works. One minute you've been working 7AM to 8PM six days a week for what seems like forever. Next thing you know you come into the office and there is frankly buggerall to do because you are waiting on Things Happening. Well, there is stuff to do but it is neither urgent nor interesting and it's vaguely springlike and sunny in London.

So instead I spent most of the day trying to book a hotel in Athens in the summer (two nights, for the benefit of my friends who remain blissfully uncomprehending of how horrible Athens is in August and want to see the sights).

Not really sure what to do with my livejournal. I don't really feel like writing in too much detail about my private life; the interesting stuff that does happen at work I can't talk about, by definition; and I'm not really keen on using it as a kind of personal soapbox either, I prefer to do my opinionated pontificating in more interactive places: the Culture list in particular. Or the pub.


liadnan: (Default)

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