I’m not quite up to proper blogging, yet (getting there, though), but something a friend said on Twitter reminded me (by a slightly circuitous route) of this — and I just had to share.
All text © 2009 Gary William Murning
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Ladies, gentlemen and anyone else who might be tuning into this frequency — this evening I bring you grave news.
We know now that in the early years of the 21st Century, this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man’s. These beings from we know not where monitored us closely, assessing coldly, calculating facts and figures in manners we ourselves would have found unfathomable. They watched and they waited, patient as geological time, undeniable, rigorous — preparing for the moment when they would set out.
And so they came. With technologies far advanced, they travelled light-years at close to lightspeed, warping and distorting — spacetime the stuff they wished to make it.
In the early hours of last Sunday, they arrived at their destination. Earth, that green and blue planet we call home. Lights in the sky were first seen in the Lincolnshire town of Conisholme. Local ufologists reported that the number of sightings was the second largest in local ufology history. A Mr Palmer reported: “I actually saw a white light – a round, white light that seemed to be hovering.”
When the time came to make themselves known to us, however — that “take me to your leader” moment that so many of us have been expecting and, perhaps, dreading for many a year — we were to be disappointed.
You see, these are not the infallible creatures we imagined them to be. After travelling light-years, distorting spacetime, creating wormholes with the flick of a switch — no doubt whilst munching on a ham and cheese toasted sandwich — a quite possibly tragic accident occurred.
They crashed into a wind turbine and had to bugger off home to make emergency repairs.
… Being a ufologists must be such a difficult occupation. Whatever Mulder and Scully fantasies I might occasionally entertain, I very much doubt I’d be up to the job. The disappointment I could probably bear, but certainly not the carpal tunnel syndrome from all the desperate grasping at straws that the job requires.
Well, as reported via Twitter, I’ve been hit with acute (doesn’t look very cute to me!) viral nasopharyngitis — that’s the common cold, or man-flu, to you.
I’m currently not feeling too bad. It seems to be largely a head cold and I’m hoping that it will stay that way. If, however, it goes to my chest I may be away from my computer for a day or two. I will try to post when I can, though — if not here then on my Twitter page (the feed for which can be seen over there on the right or by clicking here.)
In the meantime, if you feel like posting something to perk me up in my comments section (no, I don’t mean perk up in that sense!), please feel free.
Not having had the benefit/disadvantage of a university education (since the age of about 18 I’ve leant rather considerably towards the autodidactic), I occasionally find myself regretting that I never had the opportunity to attend lectures on the subjects that most appeal to and inspire me. It doesn’t trouble me too much, of course, since there are always other avenues of enquiry available — but a part of me has always had a niggling suspicion that it’s missed out on something vitally important.
And then I discovered the more intellectual provinces of that perceived dog-on-a-skateboard neighbourhood, YouTube, and suddenly I felt complete. (Well, as near as dammit 😉 )
The sheer volume of lectures now available is becoming positively staggering. Whether you want something on astrophysics or molecular biology, you’ll find it. Granted, it does to be selective — bad science can thrive in such an environment — but if you follow the basic rules, you won’t go far wrong.
I was especially pleased to discover The Stanford University YouTube Channel — the kind of “place” that makes me wish I had more time to spare.
The video below is the first of ten two-hour lectures from Stanford on Darwin’s legacy. I haven’t even begun to watch them yet but I thought I’d share now, anyway, before I forget. They’re bound to be good.
Twenty hours on Darwin’s legacy… call me sad if you like (though I’d rather you didn’t!), but if that isn’t as close as an atheist can come to heaven I don’t know what is.
All text © 2009 Gary William Murning
BBC News.
Losing one’s sight must be one of the most frightening experiences imaginable. It’s something that I have thought about on occasion — how it would affect me, the sights I would no longer be able to enjoy except in memory. The vulnerability of it, I’m sure, I would find especially difficult to contend with.
But also being unable to escape to the pages of a book would have a huge impact on me and my ability to deal with such a situation. My favourite refuge would be — without the possibility of learning Braille — out of bounds. Granted, audio books would be a possibility but… the times I’ve listened to them as a sighted person this medium has always struck me as far removed from the act of reading itself. Braille, it seems to me, would be the only replacement I’d find authentic enough.
So — a worthwhile cause, I would say.
“Donations to the campaign can be made via the National Braille Week website or by calling 0300 321 0000.”
BBC News.
© 2009 Gary William Murning except for quotations.
I stopped watching Doctor Who halfway through David Tennant’s first series — finding it all incredibly tedious.
Nevertheless, I have been interested in who they would select as the doctors next incarnation, Tennant’s replacement. Would it be someone who might actually bring something multi-dimensional to the role, I wondered.
After seeing the wee bairn who has been cast in the role, however, let it suffice to say that I certainly won’t be watching this series, either.
Young, cute (I’m reliably informed) and not a beer-belly in sight! Talk about playing safe. Bring back the days when the Doctor was old and crusty… the days when you were completely certain he would never, ever get a shag.
Stephen Fry would have been my pick.
You may have noticed that I’ve been especially quiet of late — even allowing for the holiday period. There are a couple of reasons for this, one — the obvious one — being that I haven’t exactly been in the mood for blogging, my satirical faculties a little desensitised by the sheer banality of Christmas!
The second reason, however, is that I have — as this post may have foretold — been somewhat busy.
Gripped by a renewed sense of purpose, unexpectedly comfortable with my abandonment of Tomorrow Will Come, I have found and pursued a new direction… a new literary direction that is actually an old direction rethought. I have finally settled on what I think (hope!) is the right novel.
There have been so many false starts over the past six months or so, but this feels much more comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that I’ve managed outline fourteen chapters in about a week or so. At this rate, the whole novels should be outlined within a fortnight (I’m not over-outlining, but nor am I prepared to fly by the seat of my pants as I attempted with Tomorrow Will Come… I’ve found a middle ground that feels about right for what I need.)
At this stage I really don’t want to tempt fate by sharing anything more about it, other than to say that it’s called As Morning Shows the Day. At the same time, however, I’m excited about returning to the kind of writing I know I’m best at… so the temptation to rabbit on about it is pretty strong.
But I won’t… I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.
Or maybe I will. Just not yet.
