The night shift went as
well as can be expected; I quite like the night work really. As
always I had the radio on. And as always it was akin to the
proverbial curate's egg.
There was an interview
with the lead singer of the eighties ska band "The Selecter"
who was famous for having been famous thirty years ago. Amazingly
that band is still going. The woman interviewed seemed to have little
of note to say, but that didn't stop her saying it.
Clive Anderson then led a
discussion on how accusations of rape are dealt with by the British
courts. The panel of self-appointed busybodies seemed to be
disappointed with how few accusations of rape ended in a conviction.
A case was discussed in
which the accused chap was adamant that consent for sex had been
given, and when the case went to court the woman involved then
claimed she had been so drunk that she had no recollection of an
entire day. The accused denied the woman was at all drunk.
What evidence is there
for either side in a case like this? Apparently the judge in this
case threw the case out of court, and there was then a legal squabble
as to which of the two parties was to be charged with wasting police
time.
There was a ten minute
article about the mass murderer Harold Shipman, and ten more minutes
about atrocities during the Spanish civil war.
And then a complete
nut-case calling herself a "holistic doctor" ranted
about how it was better that children should suffer from preventable
diseases rather than have their civil liberties infringed by
vaccinating them before they are old enough to decide for themselves
whether or not they wanted to be vaccinated.
I wonder if I might be
better off listening to Radio 2...?
With work done I came
home. As I parked the car outside home my phone pinged. A new
geocache had gone live in Hothfield. Five minutes drive away. I
thought I'd chase the FTF; I chased it. I was beaten by three
minutes. But it was good to chat with "The Three of Us";
and for once there were three of them.
I came home again to an
empty house. "er indoors TM" had
taken "Furry Face TM" for the
traditional Sunday walk. So I abluted, put some laundry in to wash
and had brekkie. WIth no small dog about the place I had all of my
toast to myself. I didn't like it much. It's amazing how empty the
house seemed without Fudge under my feet.
Whilst scoffing brekkie I
checked the geocaching forums and showed amazing self restraint.
Those who advocate the use of GPS units (whilst sneering at
SmartPhones) were extolling the virtues of spending a lot of time
and effort laaboriously farting around with GPS units to do what my
phone can do at the touch of one button.
I kept quiet for once and
said nothing.
Whilst the washing
machine churned I spent an hour dissecting .lua scripts. I *think*
I can devise enough programming to make another Wherigo all on my
own. I then took myself off to bed and slept for a few hours. I got
up and spent over an hour making twenty seconds of game play for my
next Wheri-project. It's going to be an adventure based on Batman,
and after quite a lot of serious effort I've got the thing to have
Batman's Butler Alfred to say that Batman is wanted on the phone,
and Batman to say "sod it" and go down the pub.
Oh - and it's the first
of the month. I turned the page on my calendar.
Another goat in another
tree...
I'm off to the night
shift again...
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