I woke feeling full of energy and ready for the day…
at twenty to two. I then dozed on and off for the rest of the night. Unlike
last night the dogs were settled, but I wasn’t.
I got up at five o’clock and watched more of the Netflix dinosaur documentary. It is very
entertaining but a lot of what it presents as fact can only be speculation at
best… how would anyone know details of the courtship rituals of animals that
went extinct two hundred million years ago? And on a purely personal note, I
might try listening to it before bed rather than after it; Morgan Freeman’s
narration is rather soporific, isn’t it?
I had a little look at the Internet as I do. There was
all sorts of bickering about all sorts of subjects. One argument particularly
caught my eye… a day or so I accepted an invitation to a pubs-related group. It
would seem that the chap who invited me has invited loads of other people in
the hope of getting elected onto the ruling committee of the Campaign for Real
Ale. I was a CAMRA member many years ago. Back then the local branch was very
clearly a little clique of mates with no interest of having anyone joining in
with their little gang. I packed up CAMRA as at the time it was quite plain
that they had no interest in the opinions of their membership. “Pubs ot the
Year” would be voted for by a committee who would announce the decision
after it was made… the committees would announce their own elections after it
had happened. It would seem this sort of thing is still going on. I got
involved years ago, but now… not my circus, not my monkeys.
As I drove to work I listened to the pundits on the
radio who were talking about yesterday's Prime Minister's question time in the
House of Commons. Quite a bit of footage from it was played on the radio; it
sounded as though it had been an utter debacle. Some MP or other would ask the
Prime Minister a question about something or other. Members of his own party
would ask him about his recent triumphs, and the Prime Minister would thank
that person for their question, and there would be mutual congratulations all
round. And then members of opposition parties would try to embarrass the
Prime Minister by asking about recent balls-ups, and rather than replying about
the balls-up in question, the Prime Minister would then embark on either a
personal attack on the questioner or a more general attack on the questioner's
political party, and drag up all sorts of their historical balls-ups.
At no point was anything on any matter ever seen as a
good or bad idea; everything discussed had become a party political matter.
This is entirely what is wrong with politics, isn't it? One party will say
"we like cheese and onion crisps", and no other political
party will ever again eat a crisp of any flavour, let alone cheese and onion.
Work was work; again I was doing extra helping out
with the new computer system. I had a productive morning, but reached a
sensible stopping point so slipped out a tad earlier than I might have done.
I came home, bundled up the dogs and took them to
Orlestone which was again heaving with butterfly hunters. I *think* I
might have seen one or two of the large tortoiseshell butterflies. I say *think*;
I’m not sure, but there were very large things fluttering about at the bottom
of the woods. They were the wrong shape and size for birds, and were changing
direction far too rapidly to be a bird. Had it been at dusk I would have said
they were bats, but it was three o’clock in the afternoon.
We came home and did “FEED THE FISH”. I fiddled
about on-line looking at the price of paying for CharGPT… Would I use it enough
to warrant seven quid a month? Only getting five free piccies a day with
ChatGPT is a tad restrictive… but then I realised that Microsoft Copilot does
pictures and I pay for that already… Having spent a few weeks learning ChatGPT
I’ve now got to learn something new, but I’ll (hopefully) be able to do
more with it…
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