7 November 2023 (Tuesday) - Flat Friends
Over brekkie I started watching something new on Netflix. "Osmosis" is some strange French series in which a mad scientist develops a computer-controlled chip thingy which people swallow and it goes to their brain, logs on to the Internet and finds their perfect partner. However, like all mad scientists, this chap is quickly rumbled by his superiors and is chucked out on his arse. But, as is the case with all sacked mad scientists, no one thinks to revoke his free access to all his mad scientist equipment with which he might plan his revenge.
At the end of the first episode our mad scientist was vowing vengeance on an ungrateful world whilst his sister was planning to use the computer controlling chips to merge the brains of three volunteer subjects to cure her mother whose brain had packed up for no apparent reason.
The show might chirp up; I shall try another episode before dismissing it out of hand. But it speaks volumes that Netflix cancelled it three years ago.
Pausing only briefly to capture twenty Flat Friends (it's a Munzee thing) I set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how you can now use other couriers than Royal Mail when sending stuff from the Post Office. I got the impression that Royal Mail have got the hump that other couriers have muscled in on what was once their monopoly, but these other couriers only want to muscle in on the profitable bits. They can deliver a hundred letters up my street in the time it takes to deliver one letter to someone who lives out in the back of beyond (at presumably a hundred time the cost to them), and so (sensibly) choose only to take the profitable work.
The obvious answer is that it is daft to charge the same price for delivering a letter to a crowded residential estate as for delivering to an isolated cottage with no other houses for miles around. But what do I know?
There was a lot of talk on the radio about how the King will make a speech today outlining the government's plans for the next year (most of which apparently he won't be keen about).
There was talk about how the death toll in Gaza has passed ten thousand. The Israelis have now killed ten times the amount that the Palestinians have killed. No one on the radio seems to have made the observation that no one on the International scene dares tell the Israelis off.
There were reports from the ongoing inquiry into the government's handling of the COVID pandemic.
And then some fatuous windbag was wheeled on to present "Thought For The Day" in which she started off by wittering about how terrible the situation is in Gaza, and how bad the COVID pandemic was, and then in some incomprehensible leap of (so-called) logic announced that the problem was that in both cases humanity had built its houses on sand rather than the firm foundation of her god.
To my way of thinking, she’s wrong and there's four possible explanations here. Either her god is oblivious to the situation in Gaza and the COVID pandemic, or it don't care about them, or it is powerless to actually do anything about them, or it is happy with the state of the world. None of which seemed to occur to the fatuous windbag who was wittering on.
But this is the righteous mindset in action, isn't it? Everything shitty in life is down to human nature, everything nice is a gift from god. A rather blinkered way of thinking to which the insecure cling. A desperate hope to curry favour with a disinterested deity so's they can go to heaven when they croak? Perhaps.
I'll take my chances... Though *if* there is a god I might have just pissed on my chips.
What with capturing twenty Flat Friends I was about twenty minutes later going up the motorway today. It's amazing the difference those twenty minutes make. If I drive up Hermitage lane before eight o'clock I drive straight to work. If I don't get there till after eight o'clock, I have twenty minutes of stopping and starting.
I shall get there earlier tomorrow.
Work was work. It was much the same as ever. I did what I couldn’t avoid, and then took a serious diversion home as the east-bound slip road onto the motorway was bunged up. So I went three miles west the wrong way up the motorway and turned at the next junction. It turned out that the problem was one broken down lorry. You’d think that realising the thing was about to conk out, the driver would have pulled onto the hard shoulder, wouldn’t you? It is amazing how one poggered vehicle can cause such a delay.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good bit of scran which we scoffed whilst watching more “Bake Off”. I’m thinking of having an early night now… For all that I’d like to think I’m over last week’s bout of COVID, I’m wilting every evening.