October 2002 Archives

Yes, the Reichstag; last Saturday. Apparently the parliament had to take a vote to let us in ('us' being the World Congress of Science Producers). The whole experience was a tad surreal, but somehow very moving too. As a building it's such a symbol of democratic rule that it's hard not to be impressed by the German peoples for managing to put it to its intended use - albeit a century after it first came into use. That alone is impressive.

But somehow, it's even more surprising to be there as an Englishman. Sixty years ago, our fathers' generation was bombing the crap out of the place - that I can now stand in the rebuilt (by a British architect, even!) parliament building, with nary a hint of that being remarkable in itself, is a huge achievement. Europe has come a heck of a long way, and that progress honestly gives me hope for the future. Sure, it took some time, and we've not solved everything yet by a long stroke, but hey - we're mostly not killing each other still.

Happily, I made it back to Glasgow a mere four hours late, surprising when Amsterdam and Heathrow were both closed for parts of the afternoon yesterday. Some people weren't so lucky. If anyone's seen Sgt Mgr Pratt's tank, do be a good chap and give him a bell on the old blower.

Does this make HMS Nottingham a 'boat,' then?

So, over the weekend, we recorded the second half of the new series of How2. Far too much like hard work, but I think the results will be worth the effort.
Tomorrow, or some time like that, I head off to Berlin for a conference, where I'm talking about science TV for kids.
So life is pretty busy. Funnily enough, It Likes You isn't back up and running yet. [sigh].

Quite.

This evening, I made a model geyser. Well, I say 'I' - one of my colleagues did, I merely helped debug it. It's not the most spectacular thing ever, but it is rather pleasing in its own way. Hence, it's an 'alright geyser.' Ho ho, how droll.

So, the new director of programmes at ITV is the chap who was the original producer of the show I now make. This is probably a Good Thing.

...should be a verb. As in 'I infrequent Bar Brel,' or 'I infrequent the Atheneum,' or 'It's a forum I infrequent.'

'Ladies and gentlemen, I wouldn't normally do this, but...' he began. And the poem was, to be fair, better than we'd have expected. A tad surreal for the Glasgow underground, but it was national poetry day.
But when, a week later, the same man made the same comment... I left the carriage. As the doors closed behind me, he launched into the same poem.

Heh. Today, I had a birthday card for my Mini, from my dealer. Cutsey, but hey, they got me. Top car.

Satirising the industry in which I work, and I bloody missed it. BBC - Comedy - Look Around You

On the road out of the town where I grew up, there was an old ramshackle warehouse that looked fantastic. Every time I drove past I thought 'I must buy some black and white film.' Of course, the day I pitched up with a loaded camera was the day after it had been knocked down.
Happily, Abandoned Places has vastly better shots of such stuff than I'd have taken myself.

A weekend of wandering around Glasgow, arriving at galleries just as they close and posing for 'Gosh, we're interested in this pamphet' pictures.

Top day, actually. Gong highly recommended.

My mate Damien (the other half of the currently-moribund but oh-so-badly-missed It Likes You - returning soon, promise) has been shortlisted for the video prize connected with this: Full Length 19: Morcheeba. Head on down the ICA on Sunday and look for a vaguely Polish chap. Oh, and raise your glasses in the general direction of Glasgow, where I'll be. Grr.

Brazilian election broadcasts. Reality TV for real. I'm particularly fond of the last para

So, I had a phone call the other night. "You know vacuum dessicators? I reckon that trying to dry socks in one would be a waste of time. What do you think?"
Hmm. Interesting. In brief, I concurred. You?

So, my flatmate Martin has been on holiday, in Florence and his old family haunt Prague. When I picked him up from the station last night, he looked to be in much better spirits than when he left, which is, I'm told, rather the point of a holiday.
Like most holiday returnees, his bags bulged. Unlike most, his bags bulged with Czech packet soups. Curious.

My work and public personal diaries are now online, care of the mostly magnificent iCal.

Glasgow Central station.
Sign One: 'West Cornwall Pasty Company.'
Thought One: Isn't 'West Cornwall' a synonym for 'North Atlantic'?
Sign Two, in large metal letters above a franchise: 'Tastty!'
Thought two: Hell, I'd be annoyed by that.

I winced. I'd just been asked what I knew about installing apps on Windows. Undeterred by my reply, my colleague continued, waving some printouts at me.
"Oh, I see," I muttered, "So your MSIEXEC.EXE thingy is furballed. Is it cross-linked with... er... RUNDLL32 dot ... something?"
"Yes!' She exclaimed, excitedly, "That's exactly what Dell support told me! I have to reinstall something..."
"Reinstall the install shield installer install?" I offered.
"That's it! You know the problem!"
"No. I'm making this up. I've no idea what you're talking about."
She looked crushed. "But..." she began.
"This is exactly why I can't be arsed with Windows. Sorry, but I've never managed to solve this sort of thing, and I gave up trying years ago. It sounds like they're suggesting the right sort of approach, but since I've no idea what..." I consult the print-outs "...squibblefumblurg dot coffig does, nor where it should go, nor indeed where it might come from, I really don't know what I can do to help."

Sorry, Helen. I'm not trying to be smug, I just genuinely don't know. I can cut video, build dynamic websites, do half-decent typography and composite photographs. I can rip and splice audio, collate hundreds of news feeds, publish my diary, and network with anything else. I can compile database servers, search a hundred thousand files for the word 'crocodile,' and burn DVDs. I can do all of that without knowing a damn thing about troubleshooting Windows.