Brian Micklethwait's Blog

In which I continue to seek part time employment as the ruler of the world.

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Category archive: The internet

Friday June 23 2017

The internet loves animals, especially cats and dogs, and I went looking for Grenfell Tower animal stories.  Because, there’s always an animal angle, to just about any story, even if it wasn’t an animal story to start with.

Did many pets die in the Grenfell Tower disaster?  I wasn’t able to answer that one.  But there have been a number of stories about pets who either can’t now stay with their current owners, or whose owners have died.  Battersea Dogs and Cats Home, for instance, is helping out with temporary pet accommodation.

Animals were also heavily involved in the search for bodies in the wreckage, as MSM news explains:

Specially trained dogs are also vital to the mission. The search process is painstaking, and as dogs are smaller, more agile, and have such a keen sense of smell (better than any technology), the animals have been deployed at more challenging areas.

The upper floors of the 24-storey high rise, those most damaged, and where people are most likely to have been killed, benefit particularly from the dogs’ expertise.

The canines come from the LFB and the MET’s urban search crews. They’re given special equipment, and even little boots to protect their feet from heat and broken glass. While obviously dangerous, no fire dog has ever been harmed while out on an operation.

...

The dogs mean the sad and devastating process of finding the missing will be quicker. They can get into parts of the building humans simply can’t get to.

I particularly like the bit about those “little boots”.  Nice touch.  Both in the sense of what this detail adds to the story, and in the sense that this must make life easier for the dogs, despite any doubts the dogs might have when first made to put their little boots on.

More about these dogs and their boots, with a picture, here, in a story from last year.

Tuesday May 02 2017

Speculation: every lover of music has a particular style of music-making that he likes so much that he even likes it when it is done rather badly.  He likes, that is to say, not only this particular sort of music, but also the mere sound that it makes.  The Sound That It Makes music is, by definition, a kind of music that only you and a few like-minded freaks like.  All it takes is an efficient market and suppliers of such music will bid down the prices of it, and thanks to amazon, that efficient market now now exists.  There are bargains to be had, and I do like a bargain.

Here are my last dozen amazon.co.uk classical CD purchases:

imageimageimageimageimage
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Click on any of these if you want to take my word for it that this is nice music, but really, that isn’t my point here.

These CDs almost all fall into two very clear and distinct categories.  1.1, 1.3, 2.1, 2.3, and 4.2 are all of music by famous, front-rank composers, namely: Mozart, Liszt, Rachmaninov, and Beethoven.  Big names.  Top music.  The sort of music that all lovers of classical music tend to admire.

But, 1.2, 2.2, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3 and 4.3 are CDs of music by much less well known composers.  Louise Farrenc, Ludwig Thuille, Ferdinand Ries, Franz Limmer (a completely new name to me), Hummel (the least unknown of his lower division bunch), George Onslow, Franz Danzi, and Florent Schmitt.  The first names are included because these guys are not so well known.

4.1 is a box of recordings by Martha Argerich and friends, at the Lugano Festival of 2015.  Three separate CDs, of chamber works, some by big names like Brahms and Beethoven, Schumann and Schubert, and others by somewhat lesser personages, including Ferdinand Ries.  (RIes was a close friend of Beethoven.)

But what all of these CDs have in common is that they feature the piano, and in all but one instance, other instruments, mostly in quite small numers.  The outliers are the solo piano disc of Liszt, and the concerto discs by Mozart, and by Mozart and Rachmaninov.  But even Mozart piano concertos are famous for having what critics call a chamber music “feel” to them, with important parts for woodwind soloists, who often dialogue as equals with the piano soloist.

This, then, is my favourite musical style.  Piano, and a few other instruments.  There is no other musical styles where I buy bargain performances of pieces by composers where the only thing I know about them is when they lived.  Do the critics not rate the composers?  Do they think the performances are lousy?  Don’t care.  This is my kind of music.

When I was a kid, I played the flute, and the most fun I had doing that was when me and my siblings played together.  My two older brothers both played the piano and my sister played the oboe, all very well and better than I played the flute.  Was this what got me started with this sort of music?  Is this why I love it so much.  Maybe.  Don’t know for sure.

What is you favourite sort of music?  Remember my definition.  You love the music.  But even if the music is rather mediocre, you love the sound that it makes.

By the way, yes, that is a swan in the bottom right hand corner of the cover of 1.3.  But this is part of why this CD was so very cheap.  All over the world, tasteful classical music fans said to themselves: yes, this is quite good playing, but I can’t have a CD with a swan like that on the cover.  And nor can I own a CD which, on the back, quotes the pianist saying:

“I was always aware that my first recording had to be a portrait of Lizst.  Only he would enable me to present as a unity the many aspects of my soul.”

Me?  I just think that’s funny.  And Khatia Buniatishvili can really play, so who cares about the embarrassingness of her mere words?

Saturday April 22 2017

Indeed:

image

The history of this particular picture is that GodDaughter 2 and I were in Waterstones, Piccadilly, which is one of our favourite spots.  She loves all the books.  I like the books too, but I love the views that I can photo from the cafe at the top.  This is not very high up, but it is high enough up to see many interesting things, and familiar things from an unfamiliar angle, of which, perhaps or perhaps not, more later.

So, anyway, there we were in Waterstones, and we were making our way up the stairs to the top, rather than going up in the lift, because I needed the Gents and GD2 needed the Ladies.  All of which caused me to be waiting on the book floor nearest to the Ladies, and that was where I saw this book.  I had heard about it, via a TV show that Hockney did a few years back, and I did a little read of the bit that really interested me, which was about how very early photography intermingled with “Art”.  I wouldn’t have encountered the book itself had it not been for GD2 and I both liking Waterstones, and had it not been for nature demanding GD2’s attention.  So, this is another picture I owe to her, to add to this one.

The way Hockney and his art critic pal tell the story of how early photography and the Art of that time intermingled is: that all the other Art critics say that the Artists were zeroing in on a “photographic” looking style, through their own purely Artistic efforts.  Nonsense, say Hockney and pal.  The Artists were already using the early stages of photography, and if my recollection of that television show is right, that this had been going on for quite a while.  They were using photographic methods to project a scene onto a surface, and then painting it in by hand.  These paintings look photographic because, in a partial but crucial sense, they are photographic.  Later, the photo-techies worked out how to frieze that image permanently onto that surface, by chemical means rather than by hand copying.  Those Art critics want to say that the Artists lead the world towards photography, but the influence was more the other way around.  Photograhy was leading the Artists.

This fascinating historical episode, assuming (as I do) that Hockney and pal are not making this up, shows how complicated and additive a technology like photography is.  It didn’t erupt all at once.  It crept up on the world, step by step.  And of course it is still creeping forwards, a step at a time, in our own time.  Early photographers couldn’t shove their pictures up by telephone onto your television screen, the way I just did, if only because television screens didn’t happen for another century.

Meanwhile, the book trade is creeping forwards.  In the age of Amazon, am I the only one who sees an interesting book in a bookshop, looks at the price, says to himself: I can do much better than that on Amazon, and contents himself with taking a photo of the book’s cover?  Are we bad people?

For this book, the difference is thirty quid in the shop, but twenty quid or even less on Amazon.

In that talk I did about the impact of digital photography, one of the uses I found myself emphasising was using digital cameras for note-taking.  How much easier and more exact to make a picture of this book’s cover with one camera click, than to record its mere title with the laborious taking of a written note.

Thursday April 20 2017

I always know when I am on the right track as a blogger.  It’s when someone quotes me.  (It’s usually either the Quotulator (I was most recently quotulated by him in this posting) or 6k.) This means (a) that I have said something interesting and somewhat novel, and (b) that I have said it well.  (b)-ing I do, on its own, regularly.  I regularly say obvious, banal, boring things clearly and fluently.  Don’t we all?  Nobody copies and pastes (b)-ing.  Frustratingly, I also do quite a lot of (a)-ing on its own, meaning: I say something interesting, but say it very badly and confusingly, with constant self-interruptions, this paragraph perhaps being yet another example of (a)-ing.  Nobody quotes (a)-ing either, because it just confuses and irritates people.  You have to do (a)-ing and (b)-ing all at once before you get quoted by anyone.

So, if 6k has just been quoting me, I must have said something good and said it right, right?  And 6k has just been quoting me:

First this, from earlier this week:

I still hate and fear golf.

And then this, from the posting that that recent posting linked back to:

I remember once having a go at it, when I was at my expensive public school in the middle of the last century.  I still remember hitting one golf ball really sweetly and deciding, right then and there, that I would never do this again, because if I did, there was a definite danger that golf would take over my entire life.  And I wasn’t having that.

Sadly for me, though, this is not the perfect piece of writing that I yearn to contrive, every time I place my fingers above my keyboard to start to type in this stuff.  It was not, that is to say, the blogging equivalent of a perfectly hit golf shot.  (a)-ing and (b)-ing were not perfectly combined. There is one crucial word missing.  Where it says: “… there was a definite danger that golf would take over my entire life”, I should have put “… there was a definite danger that playing golf would take over my entire life.”

Playing cricket, as a life-time occupation excluding all else besides doing whatever work was needed to stay alive, never appealed to me, for the simple reason that I was always hopelessly bad at playing cricket.  A cricketing life would have been a life of constant humiliation at the hands of all the other, better cricketers.  The occasional well flighted off-break or decently played single out to extra cover would not have begun to compensate for all the contemptuous fours and sixes hit off me (if and when I ever bowled) or the flying stumps (if and when I finally got to bat).  You can’t play cricket alone, against only yourself.  You have to have opponents, and if these opponents are almost always better than you, you aren’t going to have a huge amount of fun.

But playing golf is different.  Basically, no matter how they dress it up, golf is, or at any rate can be, a solitary game.  It is a game you can play against only yourself, and for me that would be a fair contest, rather than the permanent humiliation that me playing cricket regularly (by its nature, necessarily, against other cricketers) would have been.

6k notes that do I “love cricket”, and I do.  But to be more exact, what I love is following cricket, not playing it.  And following cricket, at any rate the way I like to follow it, fits in perfectly with me also having a life doing other more meaningful things besides following cricket.

What I love about cricket is, yes, the game itself, but also the minutiae of its progress - the verbal commentaries and the numbers and the dots, the runs and the wickets, the constant flow of data.

Football is not like this, for me.  The actual processes don’t appeal to me nearly so much.  All that passing and tackling and dribbling and creating and missing half-chances.  These processes only really matter, to me, if they result in a goal, and in a way they only matter to anyone if they result in a goal.  With football, it’s only goals that count.  Only goals determine who wins.  And only the goals really speak to me, so I prefer to watch, if I watch football at all, the recorded highlights of football, and the more highlighty the better.  (This is not an argument that you should stop loving football or playing in or going to watch football matches or watching entire games of football on your television.  I am merely describing how football does and does not appeal to me.)

Cricket, on the other hand, and unlike football, emits this constant gush of truly meaningful information, information which all adds up to winning or losing.  And I relish the decoding of this information in the same way that an MI6 analyst must relish being able to tell what is happening out there also only by looking at data on a computer screen.

I only ever actually attend a cricket game as a special and very occasional treat.  I wouldn’t want to watch cricket, for real, in person, at the actual ground, day after day.  The very second-hand and rather arms-length nature of cricket data is, for me, all part of what fun it is to be receiving it.  Having played enough actual cricket in my extreme youth to have the game imprinted into me, like a first language, I know how diabolically difficult it is to do what good cricketers do routinely.  When, as happens from time to time, my computer screen announces a “w” (somebody just got “out"), I feel the same lurch of emotion that the real spectators and participants enjoy or suffer.  When I see a “4” reported at Cricinfo, and then read some guy telling me that it was a good shot rather than a mis-hit, I get almost the same pleasure from that as I would have got from actually seeing it.

Especially entertaining is if, say, an IPL team needs to clobber a boundary off the final ball of a T20 game (never mind – it’s just a sort of cricket game) to win, but will otherwise lose, and then a “6” shows up on the screen.  Hey, how about that!  Or, if a limited overs win-or-lose, no-draws-allowed game ends with, say, one team needing three to win off the last two balls (I seem to recall something like this happening in the IPL a couple of days ago), but with only one wicket left, and the penultimate ball suddenly announces itself to have been a “w”.  Game over.  Wow.

(Although, I have to admit that a big spread of Premier League games on a Saturday afternoon, with goals erupting quite regularly, and then final whistles all being blown in a sudden rush, is fun, provided your team’s circumstances mean that you have firm preferences for several of these games rather than just the one game.  Lots of significant games then adds up to something almost as continuously amusing as a single game of cricket.  To me.  (This is not an argument, see above ...)

I know, all very childish.  But following sport is rather childish.  And there’s nothing wrong with such childishishness provided that it doesn’t totally take over your entire life and turn you into a permanent twelve-hours-a-day seven-days-a-week child.  Because, what I especially love about following cricket is that I can combine it with other things.  Life, when I am following cricket, can go on.

I can now even carry a 1960s mainframe computer around with me in my pocket.  I can keep up with any games of cricket that are happening while being out and about in London, meeting colleagues and friends, and taking photos.  My cricket machine even doubles up as an A-Z map, complete with a blue blob that says “you are here”.  Amazing.  In short, and although there are days when it threatens to, merely following cricket has not totally taken over my life.  There are even days when my real life is so diverting that I neglect cricket entirely, and have to catch up later.

All of which means that when 6k says that what puts me off golf is its pleasure to pain ratio, and that he feels just the same about cricket, and how come I don’t? - well, with respect, and all my fault for failing to clarify the difference between playing golf and following cricket, but he has it all wrong.  Following cricket is continuous squirts of fun into the texture of everyday life, all pleasure and no grief.  Playing golf threatened continuous squirts of pleasure, but no everyday life at the same time.  It threatened a completely different life for me, and an utterly vacuous one, like being a drug addict (very like being a drug addict), with all my spare time and spare cash consumed by it.  Like playing outdoor solitaire, all the time and not doing anything else, and perhaps even stealing money to fund the habit.  (I am also terrified of actual drugs, for the same reasons.)

Because the thought of playing golf during every spare hour I had filled and fills me still with such horror, I have even avoided following golf, for fear that merely following golf might become a gateway drug to actually playing golf.  You want continuous data?  Golf, like cricket, supplies a constant gush of it.  But cricket data never says to me that I ought to pick up a bat or a ball and start trying to play the game, again.  I know my limitations.  Following golf?  Well, I just can’t take that risk.

Sunday April 16 2017

Incoming, from “Phani”, to Cricinfo, during this game:

“Raina is trying too hard. Take a cue from Mccullum, start timing shits instead of forcing them. Be there till the end, not the usual batting paradise this.”

At the end of the ninth over of the Gujurat Lions innings, if you don’t believe me.  I’m guessing it will remain thus.

It’s never good to be forcing your shits.  On the other hand, being too rigid about the timing of them is often what leads to you forcing them.  Like Raina, you find yourself trying too hard.

And a Happy Easter to all.

Saturday April 15 2017

Late this afternoon, in Lower Marsh, I came across this classic oldie:

imageimageimageimageimage

I see a lot of vintage cars in Lower Marsh?  Why?

Finally, the penny dropped and I asked the Great Machine in the Sky.  I typed in “vintage cars lower marsh” and immediately learned about this.  Every month, the classic cars gather there:

We meet between 12:00 and 16:00 on the third Saturday of every month at the Lower Marsh Market – on Lower Marsh Street just behind Waterloo Station.

Yes, come to think of it, I always see them on a Saturday.

Mystery solved.

Friday March 24 2017

A few days back, probably because it has long been aware of my fascination with cat fascination, the Great Machine in the Sky presented me with this advertisement:

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Click on it to get to what was being advertised.

What it is, of course, is a system for a machine to become aware of other machines in its vicinity and thereby to communicate with these other machines, and this system is the work of CAT.  But the idea that a machine might somehow learn to realise if there is a cat in its vicinity, and would then, if there is, feel compelled to alert other machines to this menace, is rather clearly suggested.

If you do click on the above piece of horizontality, you will be greeted by the following claim:

WHEN MACHINES TALK, EVERYONE’S SAFER.

In a week’s time, there will be a Brian’s Last Friday meeting at which the speaker, Chris Cooper, will be contesting this claim.

Friday January 20 2017

Today will be the forth consecutive day of clear skies over southern England.  On Tuesday and Wednesday, the first two of these four days, I journeyed to East London, and today I plan to do the same.  (Yesterday, I just couldn’t make myself do this.  Instead I got a haircut.)

Living and working on my own, to my own schedule, creates problems as well as solving or abolishing them.  Being old, I basically have to get up as soon as I wake up, in order to squirt urine where it needs to go rather than where it doesn’t.  And, having woken up, getting to sleep again can then be difficult and time consuming.  Either I do this, eventually, which takes a big bite out of the beginning of my day.  Or, I stay awake, which means that by the early evening I will be asleep in my chair.  I am staying awake today, to make maximum use of all that sunlight which even now I can see outside.  But, if I leave my self-imposed blogging duties for today to the evening, I will find this very difficult.  This evening I will be both sleep-deprived and exhausted from my wanderings.  Also, I want to be at an event this evening.  So, I am blogging now, before journeying to East London.

It is for times like these that I collect photos that I just like into special directories, of photos that I just like.  Since today is Friday, my day for cats and other creatures, here is an other creature:

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A rather blurry photo, so no clicking for anything bigger there.  That’s it.  But click on this, of the sign under the elephant, if you want to read more about it:

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Having to get up every few hours when trying to sleep is a penalty of old age, but a better thing about being old right now is that the indiscriminate inquisitiveness of oldies like me is now more easily answered, without me having to pester any actual humans.  Getting old used to mean remaining permanently confused by more and more random stuff, but less so now I can just ask the www.  Time was when a photo like the one of this elephant in my archives would have remained for ever mysterious.  Now, I can learn all I want about to about it.

Here is a better elephant sculpture photo, which I found here

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But why is the union jack elephant a different shape to all the others?  I could find this out, probably.  But can I be bothered?  Do I care?  No.

Up early – blogging early – elephant sculptures
I Love You Will U Marry Me
Supporting England in the Big Bash League
To Tottenham (2): Seven Sisters?
What indeed?
Some more lighthouses for 6k
The Battersea Dogs and Cats Home light show
The internet is for telling me what’s on the telly
A blown up airplane and a dodgy internet connection
Van – grey but very interesting
What does Thames “RIB” Experience mean?
Not a shot tower – no longer a pumping station tower
John Croft: Composition is not research
The cuddly killer
Another illustrated van
Pletnev plays Haydn and I own it!
Another fine day at the Oval (2): Jason Roy – and an extreme contrast
Large number of jobs
LIFE at the Park Theatre
Lioness eats camera
Brexit - the movie - here!
Feline Friday at Samizdata
Face recognition – face disguise – the age of pseudo-omniscience
Goodbye PhotoCat – hello PhotoPad
A bridge in Narbonne
Benevolent Laissez-Faire photos
With PhotoCat I can do cropping while keeping it the same shape
Second childhood
What sort of duck is this?
South Bank views
Photo of Mountbatten on Sea Containers House
Recent taxis with adverts photos
Toegangsbeveiligingsproducten
Asking about the Southbank Mosaics Gallery and asking about London’s Big Things
A rejected Grand Chose that shouldn’t have been
A busy day and a collection of Big Things
Polishing
Big Things having orgasms
I slept right through it
Bike fishing in Amsterdam
Modernist sand castles at Amusing Planet (and at Mick Hartley’s)
Confirming an offer I made last night to Rob Fisher
White Vans are looking more and more like websites
Cats on an iPhone and Anton Howes on video
Matt Ridley on Epicurus and Lucretius
What is this iceStone device?
Going to Kings Cross to see gas holders
The sexiest statue in London?
Mental notes
An underground history lesson
Here begins the Essex Way
I was photoing white vans in February 2007
Tricycle transport
A Real (cat) Photographer
The wait continues
Blog interrupted
Swarm Manned Aerial Vehicle Multirotor Super Drone
A blast from the photographic past
My next camera?
An extraordinary coincidence
Smoke over west London
Cat picture on white van
Heaven aka the Barley Mow
England crush NZ (and Surrey beat Leicester)
What is this weird plastic thing?
Strange London buses
Another horizontal advert for an only slightly more expensive drone
Adverts for small and cheap drones
Giant cat head worn by a human
The receiving station at Swains Lane (and the previous version of it)
BT Tower behind trees
Peter Thiel on how humans and computers complement each other
Big cat advert
The rise of (interest in) 3D printing
Anish Kapoor photoed next to his big shiny balls
Anthrozoology
Quota soap foam
BMdotcom What if? of the day
Some batsman – some neck
Hand done photos
Old Quimper Cathedral
Dominic Frisby on the Hype Cycle
How the internet is cheering up Art
Fuck the duck until exploded
Big cat advertises guide dogs
An old story about colour perception
Is it practise or practice?  (And: would perfect communication actually be perfect?)
Blog down
Not about cats
On the unappealingness of classical music on the internet
On not letting either God or (the other) God do everything
5G Boris
A Sunday ramble
Cat news
Cats … on scaffolding … with shadows …
New London bridge competition
Why you are wrong
OpenOffice Writer default resetting nightmares
Why aren’t people happier about amazing new stuff?
Capturing moments
Surrey doing rather well shock
Last night at my place
I see cats
Hao Ruan and LYCS Architecture are now world famous
Pictures of soon-to-be-built London Big Things
Guardian online is a group blog that trolls its own readers
T20 fun and games
Classical Amazon
Mysteriously losing my internet connection and then mysteriously getting it back
Amusing cats versus important people
Libeskind doing the saw cut style in Ontario
Classic Feline Friday quote from Tim Berners-Lee
Christopher Seaman on conducting
A new Morrisons is opening in Strutton Ground next Monday
Ashes Lag recovery continues
“In order to comply with Google’s regulations …”
South Bank Architects?
The text of my talk for Christian Michel last night on the impact of digital photography
Tough going in Australia
Tube interrupted
Quota videos
Simon Gibbs last night at the Rose and Crown
RNSQotD
The next four Brian’s Last Fridays (including December 27)
Quotes from there
Amazon pricing puzzle
Billy Fury Way
A fake feline photo and a faltering feline enumerator
Wedding photography (6): The Wedding and the Reception
Testing again
Alastair James on Blythe Hill Fields and smartphones
Classical CDs from Gramex
Looking along Victoria Street to The Wheel (and on how to be liked (or disliked) by Google)
Michael Jennings on why iPad photoing is not ridiculous
Testcricketlag
Australia v South Africa starts now
Malta Day procession
Cheese or font?
Talk by Frank Braun about Bitcoin at my home on Aug 3rd
A pill that turns sweat into perfume
Internet connection oddities
Davies and de Bruyn get promotion for Surrey
A review of Detlev Schlichter’s new book (multiplied by 4)
One World Trade Center
WWWhat a great afternoon!!!
More shiny new headquarters buildings
Infrequent flyer
Possible light blogging for the next week
Bitcoin etc.?
Three videos from the USA that I recently watched
Release Ai Weiwei
Someone doesn’t understand what I mean by roof clutter
Let us now trash infamous men
And then give up and stay fat
And it resumes …
Questions concerning the death of copyright protection on downloaded MP3s
A down and up weekend
Obamanomics dod not work
First blood to Australia
Cat defeats alligators
Nice try
Is this blog somewhat broken?
Malcolm Hutty on protecting the internet
Guerrilla webfare
Greenies make a video saying: “We’re a bunch of vile greenie-nazis!”
Advertising aimed entirely at me
Which just goes to show that stuff gets around
Links to this and that
Expendable movie news
“An alternative definition of intelligence …”
Cricinfo gets its clock in a tangle and Pyrah bowls an unforgivable no ball
Spare A3 paper
England beating Australia – Germany beating England
Curse you Friends Provident t20
Big box computers versus laptops
Nuking the Oil Spill is probably a rather bad idea
Shard sitings and and an agreeably honest rabies prevention sign
I love television
One man’s intellectual theft is another man’s marketing
This is not Mohammed
Everybody draw Mohammed every day!
Brightly lit buildings against a dark sky
Molly Norris was just kidding!
Three cheers for Molly Norris but also a few small grumbles
Everybody draw Mohammed on May 20th!
How my camera and the internet explained an old bus
You know where you are with a book - usually
Shingles
IPL on ITV4!
Why David Hepworth is wrong about podcasting
Biker shadow
Does Google now rule the world of computing?
Me taking pictures in a funny way while it’s still allowed
List of popular misconceptions
BrianMicklethwaitDotCom understatement of the day
Antoine Clarke on the Massachusetts election and the online effect
In Alicante
My local Blockbuster Video just closed
Cricket talk tonight
Old-school media versus (or becoming) new-school media (again)
India looking good against Sri Lanka
ClimateGate roars on and Man(n)-made warming is taking on a whole new meaning
What’s up with this?
Going global
American video
Antoine Clarke talks about Facebook and Twitter – Guido and … Ian Geldard?
Under a hundred copies
Rude Ian Morbin should have a blog
Prodicus (and me) on the shitness of the LibDems
Was it Sweeney?  And what else were they trying to suppress?
Two Samizdata pieces
Prize idiots
God is killing cinemas!
Quotes dump
The Instadaughter on the morals of actors
All your Quite Interesting questions answered
When Cricinfo doesn’t supply the info
More recorded cricket chat and some further Oval hindsights
Me and Michael Jennings talk tech trends
England and me both upset
Summer break
Laptop for emails
Our shortening atten … ooh look!
What a difference a g makes
How technology has improved detention
Go Gordon!
Thoughts on the Go Gordon petition
Spelling Micklethwait wrong and Googling for Brian Micklethwaite
On Bernstein – and Previn
Register for your free pack and five £1-off-coupons
Multipurpose internet-connected rabbit
WWW
The Fixed Quantity of Advertising fallacy and the menace of targetted advertising
What the previous two postings here have in common
Daniel Hannan and the shape of the media to come
Someone called Rick wants me to puke on President Obama
Kevid Dowd video now up and watchable
God moves in mysterious ways
By bus to Sheffield
Google and dongle
Second Class power
You don’t wait for it – you go looking for it
Billion Monkeys liked photoing the nastiest poster!
Cricinfo
On autobiographical ruthlessness
P. J. O’Rourke confuses the average with the significant
Pink bunny successfully resized and posted only with Jesus!
Dongling at Michael’s
Not the same thing
Cricket chat
Gramophone are putting their back catalogue of articles online for free
Collingwood comes through and The Internet is a hat trick
Never mind the telly
If the Jews have been running the world they haven’t been doing it very successfully
Two adverts in the tube
Mainstream media bloggers and the problem of my blogroll
Seven Napiers – three Ansaris - Gilchrist
Today I have been blogging elsewhere and also doing other things
Cisco – fuck off and die
152 not out in a Twenty20
Underestimating crime
Ridiculous story but great headline
I really should stop buying newspapers and magazines
Self-guided photo-tour of the streets of San Francisco
Fourth innings heroics
Billion Monkeys like being photoed!
Meltdown in Russia … and New Zealand
She learned to knit her before she learned to spell her
Cricmisinfo
Thank you very much Ambrose and Collingwood
I love the internet
Obama a loser?
On hating and not hating commenters
Lucky I don’t take cricket seriously
Antoine Clarke on the US Primaries – either Obama will beat McCain or McCain will beat Clinton
Customer service
Michael Jennings on telecoms at Samizdata
More horizontal thinness
The great DVD packaging clearout
Democracy for sale – starting with football and beer
The romance of new technology – or the drudgery of it
Chanelle and Ziggy - romance in the age of total surveillance
It’s the decline of old-school advertising that’s really hurting old-school journalism
Breaking the Left’s stranglehold on the moving image
New word alert
RSS feed news
American war memorial by the sea at St Nazaire
Comment is free and WiFi should be too
Renaissance Man
“It’s going to be very exciting to see what young people come up with when they reject college”
Ideas and opportunities
Splog is the new splig
Facebook
A new tower in Manchester
The publicness of private life
Internet problems solved
Writhing
Is the internet replacing higher education?
How to handle the complaints of your fiercest critics
Irrelevant heart attack adverts
More internet connection problems
Billion Monkeys photo their own demo!
Evite makes sure I remember it
New Moscow road bridge
He likes it - but does he understand it?
Does the internet change education?
That Rooney goal
Micklethwait’s Four Star Theory of the Internet
Screw you Dove – good on you Ruth Kelly – the right to avoid gay adoption
Me on internet telly this evening with Andrew Ian Dodge
Jott
Other people’s photos (3): Ice storm
Back to the future with the virtuoso violinists
Screwed by Google – and Google screwed by the kitten-bloggers?
What next for the virtuoso violinists? - Simon Hewitt Jones has some answers
More G&S - and some strange Times errors
Firewall nonsense
Leon Louw talks about the habits of highly effective countries
Hands off the Net
Search
Oscar Wilde defends society
Airship photos loading tri-incidence
Pro-am music video
Everyone likes Magic Andy
Frederick May
A dangerous development
The great Google www dictionary
Thoughts on the Age of Google
An intrusion of green rectangles
Adriana’s Thing mp3
Blogging takes longer than doing things - a picture - and why does a hot bath make me colder?
Guido’s narrative
Bartók outside South Kensington tube
Big Media crap and football cock-ups
Brian and Antoine democracy mp3 number twelve
Attacks of the mad robots and the little red crosses
County cricket - great and not so great - and what to do about that
Wisden on the back foot
Billion Monkeys stop cover-ups!
So does Flintoff really look like Jessop?
Must
Phone glitch
The internet is creating new video stars
The Wealth of Networks
Internet sex machines instead of photos
Hosting matters
Blue balls – kaleideskopes – etc.
Computer transparency
Reading and writing for the www are the same
Wrong comparison
Quoted but not linked to
The Falkirk Wheel
‘Libertarian’ now beats ‘Marxist’
The problem of long blog postings
iBrian may be coming but I promise nothing
The Million Dollar Homepage
Read-Write versus Read-Only
Talking about my generation
TV.com
I am not too clever
Groowy mess
Happy New Year
Cheaper movies
Is Africa about to look boring?
Phonic Googling
Plink plink plink plinkplinkplink plinkplink plink plink plinkplinkplinkplink plinkplinkplink
I actually think that this is quite mindful
Ordinary photos
Either $150 or free
The stupid internet
Katrina as art – and Katrina as proof of What I’ve Always Said
Blowing Smoke all over old school advertising