liadnan: (Default)

Odd bit of spam today. Well, I thought it was spam and so did Gmail, but the curious thing was that it was well tailored: for a sort of Librarything/"books you might like" predictor coupled with amazon, sent to my livejournal email and not obfuscated in any way: the English was a little broken but not of the incoherent stream of drivel model. I dithered a bit before hitting delete (rather than unmarking as spam and then hitting delete - does that actually make a difference? I assume gmail's spamfilter learns, and if so that seemed almost... unfair. The really odd thing is that their "taster" book prediction was for something of which I actually am rather fond: Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain. Outfit called, if anyone's interested, which whois tells me is, um, owned by an outfit which itself has an .ru domain. Hmm.

I have been arsing around with setting up a local mail server recently, for no particularly good reason other than that I was bored and felt I wanted to understand this stuff a bit more. (a Getmail/Dovecot IMAP /Postfix setup if anyone cares). In the course of doing that and also trying to set up a vpn client to log into work's machines I somehow managed to completely screw up everything that had anything to do with the internet at all: this came as no surprise as I have no real clue what I am doing (it doesn't really matter as I want to do a complete reinstall soon and everything is backed up to the nines). Rather more surprisingly I managed to figure out how I had managed to completely cock it all up and undo it fairly quickly. This pleases me.

In other news, or rather, other rhetorical questions, why does chaos break out in Lebanon every time I am on the brink of buying a flight there?


Mar. 13th, 2007 07:20 pm
liadnan: (Default)

Intrigued enough by the adverts for on the tube over the last couple of days that I finally found time to look at the site. It's all a little vague and gnomic but it seems reasonably clear the Bee in their Bonnet is Google.

Which is why it's interesting to note, as several people in the comments here did, that the site is owned by Profero Ltd (as a quick whois confirms), a "digital marketing" outfit whose clients include Yahoo! and Ask. Can't trust anything these days. The revolution will be televised, and probably sponsored.

liadnan: (Default)

From the ever-fertile brain of Nou, as a byproduct of something else: London Tube Line stations plotted against Google satellite maps.

That link shows the Piccadilly Line but the others can be found either by fairly obvious URL-munging or by selecting the line here, selecting the map option at the bottom of each page and then choosing map, satellite or hybrid as you wish. Or see all of them at once here.

In other news, I feel like shite.

Moving Up

Aug. 2nd, 2006 11:54 am
liadnan: (Default)

I now receive spam from bespoke tailors with royal warrants offering home or office visits. I am unsure whether this is progress.

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.

Oh Dear

Jul. 9th, 2005 12:21 am
liadnan: (Default)

Someone very well intentioned makes a community called London Hurts...

And then someone lets Londoners loose on it.

(ETA: all seems to have gone a bit pear-shaped over there since I wrote this, but never mind. A few people seem to lack the ability to spot The Line.)

London doesn't hurt. London hasd just staggered back from the pub.

Well I have anyway.

Tomorrow, that's when I'll hurt. And I bet there's no neurofen in the flat.

liadnan: (Default)

... and the BBC news page overloads...

That was suprisingly short. Did they run out of coffee and cigarettes? (I speak from my own obsessions here.)

ETA: Oh arse, not him.

liadnan: (Default)

This story's been all over the place today: Google to digitise largish chunks of five major libraries, including a small but significant proportion of the Bodleian. And try as I may, my inner cynic is unable to repress my enthusiasm. Absolutely fantastic step forward.

Amusingly, but quite sensibly, next month should see the launch of the BL's archive of British websites. Round and round we go.

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)

I'm supposed to be researching something terribly abstruse, but instead I appear to have spent the last forty minutes reading McSweeney's Lists.

It's been a long week.

(And oh dear Christ, someone from B3TA interviewed the "Winner or Sinner" guy familiar to anyone who regularly goes past Oxford Circus.)

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.

liadnan: (Default)

I appear to have big interweb at home. WATCH as my productivity descends to hitherto unimaginable levels.

Also, the sun is shining. Unfortunately I have a long and complicated job involving strict construction of a deed written by someone who had not the faintest whit of a clue how to do what they were trying to accomplish. Ho hum.


Apr. 29th, 2004 05:25 pm
liadnan: (Default)

Too tired to think... a day of cross-examining witnesses will do that to you. And we lost, though that came as no great surprise. And now I have to read into a case for an application in a slightly unusual bit of the High Court tomorrow blah.

So.. I shall go and read the internetwebtypething instead. All of it. All the way until I reach the End.

Ah well. Eurotrash reports that in Manhattan even the sidewalks are out to get you now. At least we don't have that problem. Do we?


Possibly going to see a film with S. and L. tonight. I have absolutely no idea what I want to see though. My vote is for mindless rubbish.


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.)


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