Just to round things off, when I got back to the UK, I picked up my car from Pink Elephant around 11pm and (exhausted) set off home. But the M25 had three of the four lanes coned off from Heathrow round past the M3, so I sat in a huge jam. It's a glamorous life.
What a splendid day out. Everything works, everything is clean and efficient, the weather is pleasant, everyone is friendly, good food, a couple of beers, everyone is out in the street, the market stalls are fun. I hope it's a good one for all of you Rats out there.
In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]
OK, so I'm clearly not the only one who wonders why it is that -- insofar as they are not speaking in a professional capacity, be it as an actor about the theatre, a pop singer about recording studios, or a wannabe cockney cook about jellied eels -- celebrities are afforded media coverage and perhaps even reverence when they pontificate from the same perspective as an average member of the public (ie, cluelessly) giving their views on certain matters with which they may or may not be familiar. As Spiked say, they’re entitled to spout nonsense views on a subject as much as the next person, just as we’re entitled to question, ridicule or ignore them. But why have the public utterances of people like Gwyneth Paltrow, Madonna or Jamie Oliver acquired such significance? Why do we think that because someone is, say, a pop star that their opinions on anything are worth listening to? You don't have to go the absurd extremes of Irish tax-avoider Bono or capitalist entrepreneur St. Bob lecturing us on poverty to find examples that ought to engender a double take.
This absurd trend in modern life reached a new low a couple of weeks ago, when I heard an actor who plays a teacher in a movie being asked (by the BBC, no less) about education policy. I don't know what the show was, but I think it was on Radio 5. I flipped on to it in the car and at first I assume it was an interview with some sort of education expert, but after a few minutes realised that that it was an actor. The actor turned out to be former rent boy Rupert Everett, who is in the movie St. Trinians, which looks absolutely ghastly in every respect. Fortunately, the reviews are so bad that it won't be in your cinema for long, if it hasn't already gone to DVD. Only another person removed from reality (ie, a BBC employee) could imagine that we would be interested in Rupert's declaiming about schools, education and the learning process. Personally, I don't care what Rupert Everett thinks about anything at all (least of all matters of public policy), but who am I against the crowd. Still, I nearly choked on my Yorkshire Gold when I heard him talking about everyone packing children off away to school at the age of seven. No, that's not everyone Rupert, it's nobs like you. Most of us rather like our children, so still have them at home.
In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]
I took the train from Guildford to Birmingham. It was comfortable, I have to say. There were power sockets for the laptops, a table to work on and a buffet station serving only a few feet away. But it took 2 hours 45 minutes, which is longer than Waterloo to Paris. I took the train to York. On the way there were no power sockets in cattle class, and I had to stand up all the way back. I took the kids and some of their friends into Woking town centre and to be green, I went on the bus. It cost more than fifteen quid. Last night I saw -- I don't know what the programme was, I was just flicking over -- a sanctimonious green type (who looked and sounded one of those metropolitan millionaires who are always going on about other people having to cut down on air travel) was going on about getting people out of their cars and into public transport. He meant, I'm sure, getting other people out of their cars. Communist. I want to be green, I really do, but the only way to get me to use public transport more is to make it better. Ah, but how? Since I live under the yoke of South West Trains who can arbitrarily raise fares as much as they like whenever they like, it doesn't seem like much of a system. Perhaps if we were to concrete over the railway line into Waterloo, then coach operators could compete to provide a green (they could run on soya or something) service into the heart of London.
The voices may not be real, but they do have some good ideas.
[posted with ecto]
I used to think that NTL -- generally known as NTHell by their unfortunate customers -- absolutely took the biscuit for the most appalling customer service imaginable. When they were taken over by Virgin, I did wonder whether they could cling on to their iconic position as a testament to all that is worse about British customer "service". Well, not to worry. Not only did they seize the baton, they ran with it.
When I sat down to check my e-mail last night, there was no Internet. Now, I've been getting used to my "20Mb" broadband media service periodically dropping down to a few bits per second, so at first I assume it was just Virgin's standard terrible service, but when my mail hadn't loaded after a few minutes I went to look at my broadband modem and sure enough the light was flashing, mean there's no Internet. Since I had nothing to do for a while, I thought I'd call customer "service" to see what was going on. So I got out my folder and rang the number that I used to ring for NTL. No good. "This number cannot be connected".
So I rang 118 118 and got the number for Virgin Broadband and rang it. No good. "This number is not in service". Hhhmmm, I thought. Interesting new tactic for cutting down on the number of customer complaints: NTHell never thought of that one, a trick customer service number that doesn't exist. Oh well.
Then I remembered that I'd complained to Virgin by e-mail a couple of months ago, and I found their reply. It had a customer service number in the e-mail, so I rang it. The recorded message said "We're experiencing technical difficulties, please call back later. If you need assistance, please look at our website."
Priceless. Next time I can't get the Internet, I'll be sure to check the web site. Needless to say, I'll be checking out other broadband providers over the holidays.
In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]
Technorati Tags: moaning, technology
I've been at Geneva convention for the week, where the spray-on snow was being liberally applied to all of the trees in sight. But it was nice, if a little chilly. So nice, in fact, that I even went for a walk along the shore of Lake Geneva, and very lovely it looked too.
The hotel I was staying at -- the couple of hundred quid a night hotel I was staying at -- had good quality wifi throughout, which was excellent. But it cost twenty quid a day. What a joke: twenty quid a day. I really wish hotels would advertise more clearly their absurd wifi charges, charges that have become as ridiculous as phone charges used to be before mobile phones were invented. As far as I'm concerned it's one of the most critical factors in choosing a place to stay. Wifi should be free to all guest, they should just give yo a log-in code with your key when you check in.
It's not even the price that's the most annoying thing, since most of the people who stay in these places aren't paying the bill anyway (as I wasn't). It's combination of the hassle of having to go down to the desk and buy a stupid card with a log-in on it, and the cheek at charging for something that should be included. They don't charge you extra for electricity or water when you leave. Or maybe they did, I should probably check the bill a little more thoroughly.
In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]
I'm not sure whether it's age or gender-related, and I know I shouldn't, but I still find it odd to have a Home Secretary called Jacqui. I also find it odd that we have a Department for Culture, Media and Sport: that still sounds, to me, like a Bulgarian ministry to be infiltrated in a cold war spy novel, but whatever. Anyway, I don't want to make a party political point (since politics isn't, generally speaking, the point of this blog) but Jacqui -- or Big Sister, as she will undoubtedly be known to posterity -- recently signed into law a new statutory instrument under the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act 2000. Under this instrument, 796 organisations now have the right to look at our telephone records. These include the police, the Department of Health (it's only a matter of time before your calls to Domino's pizza will, along with your smoking habits, become a factor in your waiting list ranking for NHS), the Immigration Service, the Food Standards Agency and 796 organisations now have the right to look at our telephone records. Not just Woking council, of course, but local authorities in general. Honestly. It gets more like North Korea round here every day, except luckily the government don't run Waitrose so the food shortages haven't cut in yet.
I'd lay a pound to a penny that the first time Woking council invoke their new Stalinist powers it will not be to defeat a cunning plot by international terrorists dedicated to our destruction but in a dispute over hedges or car parking.
In the future, everyone will be famous to fifteen people.
[posted with ecto]
