Lest we forget

"I'm all for states buying stuff up and helping capitalism." - Courtesy fox news presenter.

Coughing buses

It seems i'm stuck in a theme of which there's nothing wrong, just as long as i don't become subsumed by it - otherwise i'll have to do the honourable thing and try to make it pay its way.

But, this afternoon as i sat penning, writing out a few more details of offending bus drivers failing to switch off their engines whilst stationary at the stand; i noticed in my aggregate news reader - which pops up whenever the robo-searches come slinking back home with heavy packets regarding anything bus worthy - that two events happened at both ends of the spectrum of twilightness, that required a little bit of pedantry.

The first was news of a london bus driver being charged with the sad death of a cyclist - full news here, and the second was that arriva had been shortlisted for eight categories for the prestigious national uk bus awards.  What makes this so curious is the bus garage nominated for bus garage of the year, is also the garage where the driver charged with the death of the cyclist was based.

I continued sipping my coffee, watching half of my life continue its downward slide, whilst the other bobs slightly buoyantly.

Twidleness

Wait a mo isn’t there another conference ripping into the poor, taking milk from infants, feeding whole swathes of the luckless to lions - or the mincing machine that goes by the title you have no life, that i might have missed…

Unseemly rip’s

Oh world webby, where would we be without you!

It appears my initial woe’s and teeth gnashing were overdone and mightily premature, as a more thorough search indicated that it could just be a corrupt error in the start up causing the wsod (white screen of death) looping, and if lucky wouldn’t need to download a firmware tool from a third-party, nor a hacked tool from some unknown party, but straight from sony ericssons own site which eventually popped out an update tool for download to update the firmware. 

Firmware updates, especially during the earlier days of motherboard bios flashing, held similar delights to stuffing your head into the mouth of a lion and daring it to bite your head off - only for the brave. 

But it went through the upgrade process with only 3% of battery power without a hiccup.  I was now able to get the phone to switch on, quickly realising that my backups never actually existed outside of my imagination, and the phone refused to see the memory card. 

At least it was progress.

After pausing to ponder it hit me.  After the firmware update, do another reset, a reset using the phones factory default option. 

Before doing that however, i transferred the flash card to disk, formatted the flash card, re-copied the information and voila, all of the data was back in, sadly minus contacts.  Even the sim was cleared of contacts, which i could have done years ago and not realised.  Luckily had contacts scattered in the cloud.  Exported those to vcf format and synced address book with phone which worked.  So, barring losing data for people who i haven’t been in touch with for decades, regular service has been resumed. 

On this occasions i’m more than happy to loft five happy tabs for the webby’s practical and useful information and sony ericssons site which saved a fraught shopping trip and loss of all data. 

Now with the camera back in operation, ready to take pictures of whatever noise they’re creating outside… hold on… oh.. painting lovely red double-lines, so everyone and his dog can park there.  On third thoughts I’ll resist the temptation to pop a snap, save on its wear ‘n tear.

RIP for faithful years

As the maelstrom that is my existence, continues it plunge down the rabbit hole, it's now swallowed my faithful phone; yes it was a brick compared to the latest slim-line razor sharp offerings, but up until today it did everything i needed a phone to do without airs or graces and done them well.  

Today, it died.  The screen just blinks on then off.  I could get it repaired, but its battered carcass has seen better years - like its owner, and as the other two mobiles also died displaying the same symptom, its time for it to hit that great mobile recycling facility in the sky.

So come in rip k750i, your time has finally arrived.

Bus strike

Did someone say the buses are going on strike? 

Oh please make it so, failing that a ditch, a very large ditch!

Home delivery triumphs

Order 2 - Day 1 - 11:44

Never one not to turn the other cheek (at least once) nor grasp enough rope to swing by, i plumped for another delivery by that august (spot the tonal difference) grocers, sainsburys!

An amazing transformation.  

For some odd reason i'd forgotten i'd placed an order for delivery today, thinking instead it was due tomorrow.  Around 10:53hrs i received a call from the driver saying "everything's okay. I've found the building and will be with you shortly."

Here? I had to enquire whether he'd really had the right day.  Sure enough he had, with an added surprise of also arriving early.  Soon i was placing numerous orange bags around the fume-ridden parts of the flat, making note of those items which were out of stock that could wait until i made a trip to the farmers market instead.  I was, however, so contented with the delivery i decided to call expressing said effusive contentment.

For a growing agrophobe, not having to participate in the melee that goes by the name of shopping is a mighty boon.  I now just need to get my air piped from the arctic, the bubble, and i'd explode through sheer blissful contentedness.

So far it's being one good experience vs. a crappy one, with the third shopping experience test just a few short weeks away.  

On this occasion i'm giving five happy tabs to sainsburys.

 

Ba

Just when i finally grasped how to successfully grow large pelargoniums and toy with the idea of gently squeezing those essential oils, drop by drop, into thin-necked bottles for a sublime organic pot-pouri experience (even had the poster designs); I only discover my delicate little skin is allergic to its scented touch and breaks out faster than a teenager on a diet of pizza and radioactive sunny dependent.

In a brief second, what could have been the gateway to a bucket-load of green liquid happiness (although it still could be if i don't inhale, touch, or have any of it waft over me), turns out to be something else that i need to add to the growing list of toxicity that's slowly making me wonder whether i should invest in a very large bubble!  Naturally it would have to be a sound-proofed bubble, with tasers appropriately positioned and a concealed bear trap or two for back up!  

In hindsight, it's a good thing i never conjured up a whole batch and dipped my head in, that would have been embarrassing to explain down at a&e - if i made it that far.

So what else is it good for, apart from infusing a nasty smelling fume laden room with the wonderful scent of freshly cut lemon? 

Culinary, air fragrance or purely ornamental.  

Ah yes

Nothing like a new broom to bring us back to the good old days…

Luckily, with “air quality in london amongst the worst in
europe,” london assembly air quality report 2009, we’ll soon be enjoying pea-soup, for free!  That is those of us on the ground level with bus stands for neighbours.

If anyone knows where the above pics come from, please email so they can be gratefully accredited (or taken down).

'elping elderlies

On the one hand lambeth is celebrating the elderly by announcing october is the month for 'celebrating age'  jointly organised by themselves and age concern.

They should have a chat with licensing, the environment department, oh yes, and tfl just to see how much consideration they truly show the elderly (indeed seemingly show anyone over their 40's let alone those 70-90+ year olds) in this little part of the borough.

But if you're not able to conjour up the imagery let me help out. It's nothing short of a damnable disgrace.

Admirable midges

Every now and then things occur which smears a smidge of admiration, no not admiration, delight at the potential of selflessness in the social side of humanity.  Luckily, and seemingly as quickly its usually beaten to death by an avalanche of human behaviour, proving how nasty the social side of humanity can be; which luckily, every now and then is offset by things which smear a smidge of... 

Snailorama

It's yet another damp and wet period here in the smoke, perfect conditions to see whether the previous snail-surge for the algal patches would be repeated.

The viriginia creeper is in its last flush of greenery, but still contains a fair amount of lush green leaves.  Out of six snails, five were happily munching on algal growth and the sixth tackling its way through the bush; eye-stalks straining to their fullest extent as it strove like a maddened rabid dog to partake in whatever goodness these green squelching mats hold for these speeding gastropods.

Another test is obviously in order; something like a glass bottle placed mid-way between the algal patch and other greener bits, then simply watching which direction the snails speed off to.

Talking about racers, boy racing wonders have been a bit thin on the ground recently, do hope they've found that ditch - unharmed naturally!

Testing…

 1, 2, 3… testing…

Where shall i begin …

… since the line's now drawn.

Home delivery perils?

For the first time in a few years i thought i’d brave the old home delivery service of one of the big uk grocers (yes sainsuburys this is about you) once more; especially with a bout of growing agrophobia, passionate dislike for shopping, twinned with an even greater dislike over the herding and pushing that normally equates to a usual shopping experience, so entailing that i generally manage to miss the majority of bargains displayed somewhere in some aisle and upon reaching home find half (well, one or two) of what i’ve brought is either out of date, fit for the bin or otherwise not quite the right item i'd wanted in the first place.

Yes, i do indeed zone out when in shopping zones. 

I thought that after a few years, the online grocery shopping experience would had improved by leaps and bounds.  Like opening the curtains in the morning and instead of being greeted by a rising sun you're killed by a gamma-ray burst instead.

It took about a week for me to carefully craft the shopping list to my exact requirements.  Despite squashing initial qualms and successfully batting away worst-case scenarios - that eventually fled the roost - i pottered around expectantly, expecting this first order to proceed swimmingly and without a hitch.  Well, i did place it with sainsburys!

The day came and the hours fled, and i noticed i’d missed a text message.   I soon realised those scenarios i thought eliminated, had simply taken up roost elsewhere along the line, and as i read the sms i’d received saying i should call them, I realised the game was probably up and everything would head downhill from there.  Which it promptly did. 

The first glitch was my own.  Somewhere amongst the process of entering card details i’d apparently entered one wrong digit, which was a worry as it was all supposedly verified when the order was submitted.  Eventually it processed and went through, and the order was still supposed to arrive within the allotted time frame i’d picked; which came and went.  After an hour of nothing, i called.

The very pleasant and helpful lady tried to contact the online/orders department - who weren’t answering.  She was frustrated, i was intrigued, that the two worst case scenarios i thought might happen, had indeed happened.  Why is it never a lottery win?

I decided not to scream and rant (which bizarrely seemed to be present just below the surface – better than the usual amounts of visualising i have to bat away), after all they are just doing their jobs, and somewhere along the chain outside of their direct control something had gone screwy.  As i picked through the motley scrapping of butter beans & onion with a side-order of salt & vinegar crisps - until re-delivery turned up something more edible – i took to pondering instead of pottering.

It’s being an interesting first foray back into the grocery delivery world, not surprised that it went belly up, even before it had the opportunity to leave the starting gate.   Saying that, i suppose i really shouldn’t grumble, at least i along with others have the option to have food delivered or otherwise trudge out to centers with elbows ‘oft.

So sainsburys, six hearty raspberries to you – well i would, if they’d been delivered!

Update 1

08:24 hrs – spoke to another charming employee who went off to speak with one of his colleagues in the store delivering the items.  They informed him that they had no idea what had taken place last night, but would print out a report and call me back in an hour to see whether i’d want a re-delivery or refund.  I happily expressed my gratitude and waited.

Update 2

09:24 hrs – arrived and 09:24 departed.

Update 3

10:24 hrs – spoke to another charming employee who quickly read through the notes and called the store - no prevaricating here.  Apparently the store had called me and left a voice message just after 10am.  Unfortunately, i’m not exactly sure where they left the message, since nothing has yet come through on the mobile nor the landline phone, which has been remarkably silent in its cradle.  She went on to tell me that the store had decided to re-arrange my goods delivery between 3-4pm utterly ignoring the original delivery time of 8-9pm as any indication of the actual preferred time.

Update 4

10:46 hrs – the very nice, helpful and charming member of staff called me back, informing me that i should expect my delivery between 7-8pm.  Sadly no extra loyalty points, but i will be in receipt of a voucher for £10 to use on or off line,

I can rapidly see this tentative foray back into the world of grocery home delivery being my last for a long while, as i take those silly notions of ease, relaxing whilst shopping, taking the weight off my tree-trunk legs, not having to fight the hordes; and stuff them heartily back into their boxes.

Update 5?

Day 2 - 20:03 hrs and neither delivery nor phone call from sainsburys relating to anything food-worthy, so time to give them a call and gather up my spending portfolio and take the whole thing elsewhere. So before i wave good-bye to edf, so long to argos, and good riddance to sainsburys, i will make that final call to see what the excuse is, obtain my refund and - shudder - go out shopping.

Update 6

Day 2 - 20:15 hrs and finally it's arrived, the driver wasn't, apparently, the same one from yesterday so had no idea what had taken place. As i slowly unpacked everything i realised the disaster continued apace: the fish had defrosted, the meat was in containers expanded to twice their size, one of the items was missing (despite the paper having it included and included on the receipt), i was surprised all the eggs seemed in one piece and bottles hadn't been smashed. So fish and mince refunded, the voucher is only an e-voucher though and i'm really not sure i wish to place another order with sainsburys and subsequently impact my health if this is their way of impressing.

Did someone say ocado?

Visiting pontiffs

Right.

Yipper yapper, yipper yapper…

I shamelessly purloined the following:

“At the same time, Coalition Minister for Culture, Communications and Creative Industries Ed Vaizey  says in the official explanation of the changes that the Government plans to do no more than is necessary to make only the changes explicitly demanded by the new EU rules, as the Government is committed to improving conditions for business by ‘reducing the regulatory burden in the UK wherever possible,’ and that the Directives won't end up ‘gold plated’ by Westminster.”

Public Technology.Net -  Fri, 17/09/2010 - 11:53

Which, of course, could be read as saying “come on business we’re ready to party now,”; or could be read as “rights? A break! You want to have a lunch break?  Listen laddy, when you’ve clocked up 58 unbroken hours, then you can have a break!” 

Which, with the ever straining glut of unemployed who are squeezed for having the temerity for being unemployed, will probably occur anytime soon.

Not quite sure what, if anything, this has to do with the coalition minister for culture, communications and creative industries (except for not giving tax breaks to the gaming industry and chopping the film board in twain), which doesn't really have anything to do with anything any how.

Vote poor

Less than 220 years ago in these fair isles, of the 8 million (oh if only) populace only 230,000 people had the right to vote, or put another way, less than 3% had any real say in who was going to represent them.

Some would say that under the current duopoly things appear to be trammeling backwards at a spirited pace, to a state where even less real power will be dolloped into the bowls of those with greater need; as everything is instead doled out to huge private firms who only count the bonus’s flying past, in ticker-tape parade majesty.  But at least there are now numerous fronts for the centuries struggles of hard fought p’fdoms to be easily chipped away, whilst the general populace happily remain informed by the nose that “everything’s really being done, for your own good.”

I’m just another armchair swivelling, popcorn popping, poisoned by bus exhaust watcher.  But it really does appear that people  (well as reported by the press at any rate) only need to hear the term terrorist, or pedo, or any other current bogey-man scare word before they run off demanding retribution, or laws be tightened, and thus more intrusions to take place, so they and their off-spring can feel the comforting words of security telling them how secure they now really all are. 

Even though the above is a wide sweeping exaggeration of the whole populace, in truth not enough of us care, or really know what to do apart from putting a mark down once every few years.  After all why bother with all of that, when we can play with the latest ipod/phone/pad/touch/mac – or one of their imitators, which in the eyes of so many is all that really matters.

But, people witter on about the mother of all parliaments etc., when it really has nothing to do with democracy, nor indeed anything what-so-ever to do with fairness covering the whole of the population.

Another reason why councils, organisations still get away with so much, is simply due to laws (usually put in with good cause and spirit) end up neutered by too many clauses allowing a whole set of coaches to career through them.

in the 1800's chartists struggled to redress the distribution of wealth imbalance, 200+ years later the gap is greater than ever, as more and more people are forced to do more than one job, or spend more time working despite the fact that the means of production has exponentially increased; but those at the top continually reduce staffing levels so ensuring those saved costs happily find themselves paid out in greater salaries & fuller fatter pensions for those on the top, with a few extra crumbs falling down to the fortunate's below.

It is telling, not only with the last labour government, but the current coalition too, that those who will not be struggling come pension age, or waiting for days to see a doctor or a dentist - if they can find one, or decide whether they can afford that pint of milk, or a brief beer, or take a hit, are the ones who believe that they know what’s best for everyone.  Which strangely equates to those who are the poorest, being savagely hacked at the worst.

Acceptable noise?

When is 93.3dBA noise acceptable in a built up urban environment on the height of a sunny autumnal day?

Apparently, when the metropolitan police decide its embracing the "local younger person" in a show of cuddly bro-mage, but is it really necessary to do so complete with loudspeakers and a pa system that would put many a large festival to shame?

When people mention brixton and gentrification in the same breath, it's usually the parts outside of the triangle.  The parts from the tube station going towards the town hall which appear to have received all of the ‘fication. 

This little bit appears (like the titanic) to be used as nothing more than a convenient dumping ground for the more troubled projects that cause too much noise, as evidenced by the glc forcing through the brixton academy license against resident objections; as evidenced by the council and tfl allowing even more buses to use the stand here - despite complaints from residents regarding the increasing levels of pollution, vibration and sound.  Things they dare not measure, as even a days worth of measuring would show them to be in breach of their mouthed concern for residents.

A brief glimpse of moving sound, and yes the sound is coming from those tents in the background. 

So that you can get a feel for the distances involved, take a quick peek at the following pictures showing distance of residents (boundary in cyan/turquoise/blue) to the nearest venues (bounded in yellow): (a) skateboard park to residents, (b) bmx track in brockwell park to the nearest residents.  Do see whether you can, spot the difference!

Whatever happened to the wonderful bmx track in brockwell park - which seems hardly ever used?   Even if the council turned that particular elephant into a concreted over skateboard park, double the size of the one here, it still wouldn’t impinge on residents as badly as this one does; but, that would mean upsetting the gentle fairer folk who live in that part of town instead of the smelly proles here.

As other residents said, it probably wouldn’t have been that bad, it might have been slightly more acceptable, had they had the decency to undertake a leaflet drop – if upchuck pizza deliveries can manage to pop hundreds of unwanted bundles through residents letter boxes, council/met pol, you can too.

So met pol, way to go getting one section of the community on side and angering others on the other from 10:15am until- well it’s now after 5.30pm – and still going strong!

With each passing day continuing to prove that this really is the lost sector of the twilight zone, why is there never a tornado around when you want one.

‘Er, mit’s in ‘is hole

The problem with hermitising in a hell-hole is that it not only warps your outlook, but it really can cramp your expandability; as you become pre-occupied with the middling mess of minutiae denuded all around.