My Blog Posts

So, my secret is out. I haven’t just been drinking lager and eating curry whilst the family have been away. I’ve also released some software. Look away if you don’t know the difference between a relational database and a Morris Minor. As a wise man once said, “It is a small thing, but it is mine own.”

Now here is a gadget even SWMBO would like; Roomba, the robotic floor vacuum. Small, smart and packed full of electronic goodness, it is even available here in the UK for a bargain £199. It sure beats the good old Dyson. Or at least it will do until they bring out the eagerly awaited Dyson DC06. Its strange that it isn’t mentioned on their web site though. Oh, hang on, $6000 Aussie dollars? Back to the Roomba then.

With the dear lady wife away for three weeks you’d think that I would be living the life of the carefree bachelor. You know, out every night drinking, carousing and consuming curry. Well, that was last week. By Sunday I was a wreck. This week you will be pleased to know that I am staying in, watching Auf Wiedersehen Pet recordings and generally geeking. Which is nice, because by the end of last week I was a mere shadow of my former self.

Cory Doctorow is a writer, and a blogger. On the day that his latest novel, Eastern Standard Tribe was published in the States (its not available here until the 1st of March) he also made it available on the internet in a variety of formats. Much to my surprise, I then read it online. I’ve always been a firm fan of the paper book, but I slurped up EST on the screen of my iBook. Its helpful that the screen is so good, but reading what is essentially a web page was much easier than I had thought it would be. Though when I think about it I do spend most of my days reading documents of varying lengths on a computer screen so why not a book? Next up Project Gutenberg.

Its not that I’m missing the family or anything, but I couldn’t resist sharing this photo with you. Its my number one son enjoying his latest toy, resplendent in a rather fine hat. The picture is currently gracing the desktop of my work PC and garnering equal amounts of aaahs and snorts of derision. You can’t please all of the people all of the time.

News just in, the wife and child have arrived safely in Sydney and are currently snoozing. Which leaves me alone in grey and wet London. There may be beer drinking and music played at an inappropriate volume. Then this evening there will be curry. Thank you Mrs Patak.

Q magazine. How I fondly remember it. Andy Potter bought the first edition in, oh, about 1984 and I instantly felt like I was at home. I religously bought it every month for its first fifteen years, then rather patchily in the last five or so. I was more than happy, when I discovered this here intarweb, to find their web site at http://www.q4music.com/ and have linked to it extensively on this here little corner of the wibbly wobbly web.

For those not in the know, we had a light smattering of snow last night here in the South East of England. Unfortunately for me during the two hours when it actually precipitated - as opposed to the two days afterwards the country will take getting back to normal - I was marooned in deepest, darkest, East London. Why? Very good question. Last week a random motorist drove too close to our car when it was parked outside the house and ruined the driver’s side wing mirror. Regardless of the amount of sellotape we used it needed to be fixed.

This one is for Mrs P. According to this article pregnant women should get out more. There is some alleged link between sunlight and producing a loopy child. My (limited) experience is that they are all nutbags but that shouldn’t stop you sitting in the sunshine.

I think these things, I feel them even. Its just a shame that I can’t quite seem to find the words and facts to express them. Luckily for me there are other people on this here global network who can. John Perry Barlow points to Doug Saunders talking about the parallels between Robert McNamara’s writing about the Vietnam war and the current situation in Iraq. Read and absorb.

I don’t know either. But I’m going to find out. I tendered my resignation this morning and from March I’m going to be a full time Dad. I may do a little random nerding but the majority of my time will be devoted to the care and upbringing of the little man. This may result in some interesting posts, or I could just keep writing about the music I’m listening to. Whichever way it should be quite interesting, and hopefully a lot of fun.

A wonderful piece entitled It’s Political Incorrectness gone mad in the London News Review today. I shall let it pass, but for two comments. First that they missed the unspoken postscript to every story in the Mail (including the sports news) that “it’s all that nasty Tony Blair’s fault.” Second, that I live in the hope that the people of my acquaintance who do read this scurrilous rag do so for the travel articles and celebrity interviews and not because they think it actually reports the news.

What sort of father would I be if I took advice from Scaryduck’s thinly veiled alter ego? You’ve got to admit that the childrens home bit is a corker though, and I am very tempted to give it a try. In the meantime we are practising a little call and response; “Who is the king?” “Daddy!” Watch out for big parenting news later this week. Oh, the intrigue.

Thanks to one of those workplace lunch time conversations I ended up compiling a couple of top five lists today. These serve no purpose but for some reason the act of assembling a list appeals to the anal retentive in me. Anyway, whats the point of the exercise if you don’t share. So here you are, and in no particular order; Note that these are my current favourites and due to the fact that I’m a fickle so and so they may change before I hit the “publish” button.

During a conversation with the Del Boy of the Midlands yesterday I came to a worrying realisation. I haven’t been in a pub since Christmas Day. Thats right, the 25th of December, last year. As that was just a ten minute pint-and-dash while I was waiting for the spuds to boil it doesn’t really count. So I haven’t spent an evening in a hostelry for over three weeks. It looks like I’ve successfully become a parent then.

As a corollary to yesterday’s peace about how wonderful Australia is try this article from the Sydney Morning Herald. It may be a great country, full of great people - and I’m standing up and humming “Waltzing Matilda” as I write this - but its suffering from the same disease as the UK and the US, crap politician syndrome. I for one shall be voting monster raving loony in the upcoming general election. If the party hasn’t been registered yet in Australia I’ll be round for your signature on my petition pretty soon.

This is why we are moving back to Australia, or at least a compelling description of why its just such a nice place to live in. It also partially explains why I don’t intend to spend any time in the freedom loving USA any time soon. Well, in conjunction with the news that all visitors will be photographed and fingerprinted. Land of the free my arse.

Its late, I’ve been watching the cricket on TV, wishing I was there, and imbibing a couple of nelsons. But the only thing I wish to say is - blimey, Jason Gillespie needs a haircut. The big mullet wearing woofter.

I’m doing a little tinkering under the bonnet of this here web site today. As that involves a little thinking on my part there is very little spare brain capacity to come up with something interesting and erudite to put here. Hence the fallback of proud fathers everywhere, a picture of my son. Say hello to Alexander everyone. He would like you to know that he rather enjoyed Christmas, apart from having to wear the silly outfit that Mummy bought for him.

At least, I think so, because the TIME Person of the Year 2003: The American Soldier has to be tongue in cheek, doesn’t it? Please tell me it is.