4 February 2014 (Tuesday) - No Trousers
The Treacle People have returned to early morning television. It's a shame so few episodes of this wonderful show were ever made. I've seen every one so many times, but they are all so good.
I also watched a couple of episodes of Family Guy over brekkie as well. They were good too. Mind you I can't help but feel I should watch that show from the start. Then I might have a clue as to what is going on.
I checked out social media over brekkie too; unfortunately with something of an air of "why do I bother". Yesterday I mentioned that my new on-line-learning course had started. The instructor asked for suggestions and improvements for the course about a dozen times in the first ten minute lecture. So last night in the discussion forums I politely suggested that all the learning material be made available immediately as it is in many of the other on-line courses. I found this very useful when I studied about dinosaurs. When I had time I could get ahead of myself, and so wouldn't fall behind in the weeks when I was busy with other things.
The various tutors and learning assistants involved with the course had all replied within a couple of hours of my original post. What they should have said was "thank you for an interesting suggestion which we shall consider". That way no offence would be given. Supercilious sarcasm on the course forum not only puts me off, but also makes the other two thousand people doing this course less inclined to contribute.
And the old chestnut of logging has reared its ugly head in geocaching circles. When one finds a cache one is required to say something on line about it. Opinion is divided as to exactly what should be said. There are those who merely say "TFTC" (thanks for the cache). There are those who write a detailed in depth biography about their entire experience of the hunt for the plastic, and then copy and paste most of what they've written into every other geocache log ad-nauseum. And there are even those who just copy and paste what someone else has written.
In all honesty nobody ever reads these little essays except when tring to get a hint to locate a particularly elusive sandwich box. And it is these hints that are expressly forbidden to be in the written logs.
It's all rather trivial. Those who wax loquacious will never convince those who do not. Those who give away spoilers think they are performing a public service. No side will ever persuade the other; it's an argument that has been done to death ages ago. And still it keeps on coming up.
And so to work. I left rather later than I might normally have done having spent fifteen minutes trying to find what I'd done with my trousers. How can anyone lose a pair of trousers? I never did find them; fortunately I have emergency back-up trousers for just such an eventuality. I hope I don't lose these too.
And so, equipped with trousers, I set off to work where I did my bit and then made my way to Somerset Road where the clans were gathering. The last time I was there I had heard mention of sweeties. There were lots of sweeties tonight. And we then settled down to count the anachronisms in this week's episode of Merlin. There were a few.
Merlin has been good, but the initial premise of a wizard keeping everything he does secret in a land where magic is outlawed is beginning to wear a llittle thin