February 18, 2005

Strange things are happnin' in Albert Square. Do do do.

I don't know if anybody else saw Eastenders tonight but if you did you will have been blessed with the vision of somebody cutting a wedge-shaped slice out of a square cake.


February 15, 2005

Martin Sheen!? That's Kennedy you idiot!

Aren't numbers weird? The more I think about the way maths, particularly everyday maths, works the more incredible I find it and my brain begins to spiral into itself trying to work out how we have got to the stage we have got to. Before you once again decide I am crazy, and after previous entries you could be forgiven for thinking this, let me explain what I mean.

Take for instance the number 5. Now the first thing you have to notice is that somehow, sometime somebody saw a collection of objects together and gave that collection a name 'five'. When there was one less that collection was called 'four'. Now I have no idea as to the rationality behind this but the labelling makes things simpler so I'll let it slide.

The next thing is the fact that these names 'five' and 'four' can then be represented by a symbol, several symbols in fact. Again somebody decided that the word that we pronounced 'five' should look like this: 5. Why? The Romans decided that 'five' should look like this: V. Again, why? The Romans at least appear to have some link between their numbers; an increasing number of sticks, each representing one object (For the first three numbers anyway). But we somehow put so much significance into a line with that (5) shape.

Now if that isn't mind boggling enough we have developed the ability to add these symbols together to form a completely new symbol. How is it that we can add together the line formation 5 to the line formation 4 to make the line formation 9? Why is this allowed yet the line formation 5 added to the line formation 4 cannot equal the line formation 7!? It's mind boggling. If we disassociate the symbol from the original group of objects and look at the symbols 4, 5 and 9 simply as squiggles on a page they lose all comprehension. When people are faced with an algebraic expression, take for example a+b=c we ridicule it saying that it is stupid and impossible; how can you add 'a' and 'b' together? But when you think about it this is all that maths is the only reason we are confused by the a+b is because it is not filled with squiggles we know to be numbers but instead it contains other irrational line configurations which we use to represent sounds that we make.

Which brings me to letters…

February 12, 2005

Another puzzler

If our knees bent the other way what would chairs look like?

Just what the hell is that purple Mcdonalds creature meant to be anyway?

The other day I was contemplating the various backgrounds of the great Superheroes and wondering if these people really warranted the status of power with which they find themselves. And the conclusion I came to was yes, with one notable exception.

Firstly let's take Superman. This dude's from another planet so therefore it is not unlikely that he will have many amazing talents beyond the realm of human comprehension. He passes.

Now take Spiderman. He was transformed from a regular guy into a costume wearing vigilante when he was bitten by a rare and possibly made up species of spider. This I find just about allowable.

Batman however is a different story. This man is basically a rich business man with a rubber fetish! He's little more than a glorified gimp with a labelling fixation (if you go by the Adam West TV series / film). There is no real reason for him to dress as a bat and hang around with a boy who is a good deal younger than him and a butler who is twice his age, what happened to the rest of his peer group?. I can only assume that this man is living a bizarre fantasy, either way I'd be wary of turning my back on him if he was around.

And to finish, another thing that has been bothering me for the best part of a decade. What the hell is this?

February 10, 2005

"There's Millions Says Geoffrey…

I was recently made aware that I was perhaps the sole inhabitant of this planet who didn't know that the face of Toys 'R' Us was called Geoffrey the Giraffe. This was brought to my attention when during an advert I announced that the slogan "There's millions of debris all under one roof" was perhaps the most rediculous and gramatically incorrect advertising slogan in history. At which point the whole room descended into laughter and explained that the slogan is actually "There's millions says Geoffrey…".

Now this makes me think. Firstly my argument still stands; it makes no sense. Millions of what? And why is Geoffrey so keen to tell us this? I actually think that my version, gramatically incorrect though it is, is less ambiguous when taken out of context; at least we know what there are millions of.

But more pressing to my mind is how many other similar things I may be mishearing. Are there other adverts or songs that I have been quoting incorrectly all these years? I hope for my sanity that there isn't but after a decade of feeling safe in the knowledge that if I visit a Toys 'R' Us I would find millions of debris I now find that my mind less secure. Am I the only person that didn't know about Geoffrey? And has anybody else had similar advert / song related embarassment? I await your responces eagerly for fear that I may be the only one.

A few observations on the serving suggestions of Tesco Value products

It occurs to me that this blogging malarkey is placing quite a strain on my fragile mind. The amount of blogging taking place by other members of this household makes me feel decidedly unprolific and as a result I turn to this humble page in order to do some catch-up. But hereís the rubÖ I donít have anything to say.

I want to blog but the pressure to blog has induced a serious case of bloggers-block. I fear that this may turn into a hideous series of entries about being unable to blog and if this entry is anything to go by any credibility that I may have had will be shot to shit by the end of the week. As a result I am forced to banish myself from all contact with my computer until I have something worthwhile to talk aboutÖ I give it five minute, at which point Iíll be back here murmuring half baked comments on this, or worse, somebody elseís blog. But until that time I have the joys of another 4 DVDs full of episodes of Saved by the Bell to trawl through instead of doing work. Hopefully Iíll have something more interesting, and more related to the entry title, next time I write.


August 24, 2004

And still it rains

And it goes on… and on. At least I have Madness's version of The Prince to counteract the effects of the drizzle that seems to have become a standing fixture over this Manchester suburb during the last few weeks. At least I've had a haircut.

My floor is slowly showing signs of existence which can only be a good thing I suppose, even if it is still merely an oasis of carpet in the middle of a desert of clutter. It will get done. And whilst I'm running on this theme somebody remind me to water the cacti.

Going on a three day jaunt to Kent tomorrow so might actually get some of my reading done on the train. I shall report back with my findings I'm sure. Things are starting to progress.

And I curse all the computer people for not making bendy USB adapters. I think it's time to locate that long-unseen soldering iron.

Still I have no chocolate.

August 23, 2004


So anyway as I survey the clutter that is my bedroom and decide to do nothing about it for another day I realise that the floor has not been seen for a long enough period to make me wonder whether it still actually exists. I don't think it's the mess itself that causes the guilt but the pressure forced upon me by parentals who don't even get past the door in the first place. It's at this point that a thought strikes me: did Proust ever have writers block?

Next year's unread reading stares down at we from the shelves and unwatched DVDs remind me how much money I spent on a copy of Dr Zhivago that I will almost certainly never watch after its initial viewing, which I'm sure will be long and protracted enough anyway. Ah well at least I can appease my senses with the knowledge that I've been at work and therefore didn't have time to watch, read and tidy. But since I finished last week and have done very little but go to the pub, sleep, play football and eat trifle there is no excuse. Maybe that can be tomorrow's job then. The new Libertines album is great by the way although it doesn't come out for a couple more weeks so don't tell them I have a copy.

And sadly I don't have any chocolate.
Although I have more than enough hair to compensate.

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