Tuesday, July 11, 2006
[200607121950UTC: I'm sure this made sense at some point even if that seems elusive now. But it stays because I can't be bothered to edit it, nor replace it, as the other highlights of my recent life have been the effectiveness or not of Harpic and the first Christmas of the year. Oh and having a computer become obsolete]
This'll be quick as I haven't been up to much (other than emailing certain people a lot, so if it wasn't you I apologise but you didn't miss much. It was only about driving tests, Bros and gravy or stuff like that).
It's always a bit odd to hear people discussing oneself. It's even odder when one happens upon several year's worth of comments made by one's father. The power of the Internet, Usenet and distinctive, if lapsed, usernames, which apparently haven't lapsed in his world.
Of course in saying this I'll have to admit to being a former user, and even feature in some groups, of Usenet, a time I prefer to think of as training for blogging. And not the awful Septembery geekdom that it was, compounded by being present in the same newsgroup as my father (such a bad, bad idea). Worryingly, not only is my father still there many years later, but I recognise most of the other posters, and in some cases the tagline quotes they use in their signatures (could they not at least change them annually? I think it's time we left the [disturbingly easy Google term and following logical spinoff removed], or thinking back to one flat, a mildly interested lemon).
Anyway, it's nearly as fun as discovering something my brother wrote about me (on a band website, I was trying to trace a different band). One problem with reading what my father has written is that not only does he not sound quite the like the person I think of (it's very disconcerting to think he might be normal[ish]), but he repeats my anecdotes, only gets the details wrong, which annoyingly seems to improve them. And no, I'm not telling you, because Google exists and because still functioning, if spam.bot.proofed, real name email addresses exist.
As does the family website I made when young (although it's the second generation one, after I got told to remove the first one, when my parents finally noticed). I think it's because none of us can remember the FTP password.
Anyway, all this is a bit pointless, and other than making me rediscover reading in ROT13 (which isn't very hfrshy), it's slightly aimless exploring of the past. As indeed is this. As I told someone earlier, it was awful at the time. Although the fact I had to provide context probably tells you which regular that was. AF, you're not the only who can be made to feel old (I don't know why you're complaining. I mean, you have just retired to the country after all. Had much trouble with the Aga? And 4 was old Doctor Who, which I don't think is on CBeebies, despite the questioning umbrella that always made me think of school maths programmes [I have no idea why, it just seemed to fit]).
Actually, I've just realised how liberating ROT13 is. It's Googleproof. I can say anything I like without fear of having hordes of mislead fools stampeding through (although a small horde would be nice; it's summer, and everyone seems to have decided that it's too hot for computers, hence my stats are looking a little wilted). I also can live beyond the MSN-banning range (they seem to consider even minor orfgvnyvgl non-family-friendly).
Woohoo! Serr tnl cbea* for all, with hot** tvey ba tvey npgvba at the end.
* Well, the knight seems happy, and you should be used to dire puns by now.
** Probably about room temperature, which is hot, relative to something which is less hot.
Anyhoo,
This'll be quick as I haven't been up to much (other than emailing certain people a lot, so if it wasn't you I apologise but you didn't miss much. It was only about driving tests, Bros and gravy or stuff like that).It's always a bit odd to hear people discussing oneself. It's even odder when one happens upon several year's worth of comments made by one's father. The power of the Internet, Usenet and distinctive, if lapsed, usernames, which apparently haven't lapsed in his world.
Of course in saying this I'll have to admit to being a former user, and even feature in some groups, of Usenet, a time I prefer to think of as training for blogging. And not the awful Septembery geekdom that it was, compounded by being present in the same newsgroup as my father (such a bad, bad idea). Worryingly, not only is my father still there many years later, but I recognise most of the other posters, and in some cases the tagline quotes they use in their signatures (could they not at least change them annually? I think it's time we left the [disturbingly easy Google term and following logical spinoff removed], or thinking back to one flat, a mildly interested lemon).
Anyway, it's nearly as fun as discovering something my brother wrote about me (on a band website, I was trying to trace a different band). One problem with reading what my father has written is that not only does he not sound quite the like the person I think of (it's very disconcerting to think he might be normal[ish]), but he repeats my anecdotes, only gets the details wrong, which annoyingly seems to improve them. And no, I'm not telling you, because Google exists and because still functioning, if spam.bot.proofed, real name email addresses exist.
As does the family website I made when young (although it's the second generation one, after I got told to remove the first one, when my parents finally noticed). I think it's because none of us can remember the FTP password.
Anyway, all this is a bit pointless, and other than making me rediscover reading in ROT13 (which isn't very hfrshy), it's slightly aimless exploring of the past. As indeed is this. As I told someone earlier, it was awful at the time. Although the fact I had to provide context probably tells you which regular that was. AF, you're not the only who can be made to feel old (I don't know why you're complaining. I mean, you have just retired to the country after all. Had much trouble with the Aga? And 4 was old Doctor Who, which I don't think is on CBeebies, despite the questioning umbrella that always made me think of school maths programmes [I have no idea why, it just seemed to fit]).
Actually, I've just realised how liberating ROT13 is. It's Googleproof. I can say anything I like without fear of having hordes of mislead fools stampeding through (although a small horde would be nice; it's summer, and everyone seems to have decided that it's too hot for computers, hence my stats are looking a little wilted). I also can live beyond the MSN-banning range (they seem to consider even minor orfgvnyvgl non-family-friendly).
Woohoo! Serr tnl cbea* for all, with hot** tvey ba tvey npgvba at the end.
* Well, the knight seems happy, and you should be used to dire puns by now.
** Probably about room temperature, which is hot, relative to something which is less hot.
Anyhoo,
Who said I was an Aga owner? It's a Rayburn, if you please; A proper oven for decent, honest, Northern folk to cook pies in after working 26 hours per day down t'pit.
(Decides to leave it there after fiasco of writing blog post claiming to be poverty stricken followed by one going on about the advantages of only ever travelling first class).
(Decides to leave it there after fiasco of writing blog post claiming to be poverty stricken followed by one going on about the advantages of only ever travelling first class).
The people who make sunglasses? How very odd.
Whereas I didn't even notice the apparent shift between "Woah is me, I have no money" and "Bordeaux? Super!" Although the first one was more "Woah is me, I have no money, because I have too much", so maybe that was why.
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Whereas I didn't even notice the apparent shift between "Woah is me, I have no money" and "Bordeaux? Super!" Although the first one was more "Woah is me, I have no money, because I have too much", so maybe that was why.
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