The more his curiosity took over, the less control he had
I’m so tired I went for a nap, but these corticosteroids won’t let me.
Add vegetables to tea.
Get soup.
PEOPLE DON'T CHANGE
People don’t change, but they can make good decisions.
This is a quote, or the gist of a quote, from an episode of Person of Interest, a TV show I watched avidly for two and a half seasons before rapidly losing interest after the scriptwriters killed off one of the only characters with a fully functioning sense of empathy (who happened to be a black woman) and which therewith descended into a cliched, repetitive, and all-too predictable (yet surprising) slapstick parody of itself.
If I wanted to watch a bunch of psychopaths endlessly escalate a brutal war on humanity I could just look at the news. Americans sure like their guns and shooting people for entertainment. Personally, I prefer a nice cup of tea and a good book, and a bit of peace and quiet.
Anyway, people don’t change, but they can make good decisions. Especially when they have enough guns pointed at their head. That’s the takeaway, or the moral of this story. But they always escape, and then they’re back to making bad decisions all over again, usually involving pointing guns at other people’s heads.
And maybe that’s right. People don’t change. Not until there’s a compelling reason to. We carry on mindlessly making the same old bad decisions over and over again like in Einstein’s theory of insanity, repeating the same mistakes and expecting a different outcome.
It’s a horrible take. But it’s true to some extent. Getting better (it can’t get much worse) can be a bit of a song (and a dance). Recovery is a long and winding road. They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said “No, no, no!” There’s a lot of resistance to change, and even to making good decisions.
But is much of this also a result of the world we live in, and who we are? We live in a world consumed by neoliberal orthodoxy. We are in thrall to the ideas of freedom of the market, the decimation of government and public services, and the freedom of individuals (and individual responsibility, even while what’s left of the state bails out the greed and mistakes of unaccountable banks and corporations).
There’s no such thing as society, Thatcher told us. There is no alternative.
Trump was right, Americans will never vote for a black woman. Hell, they wouldn’t even vote for a warmongering white woman. The white supremacist patriarchy is strong. Yes, they voted for a black man, but he turned out to be the most murderous president in history.
Is there an alternative? There’s always an alternative. It’s just that usually the alternative is more of the same, or worse. Take it or leave it. And even when there is a different option, one which might slightly rein in the excesses of this neoliberal onslaught, it’s demonised as a Stalinist coup that will murder Jews. “Nothing. Has. Changed.” implored Theresa May, quite rightly, as she continued as Prime Minister despite losing her massive parliamentary majority and failing to obtain a mandate to deliver Brexit, or anything other than her own resignation. Calling that election was the most audacious thing she ever did, aside from running through a field of wheat as a child.
Despite the people obviously voting for change, and genuine hope, it was clear that what we really needed instead was a lying, racist killer clown to run the country into the ground.
At least he had a plan. An oven-ready plan to deliver Brexit on a plate just in time for the New Year. It would be served cold, and thoroughly unappetising to everyone, toxic even. But it was the will of the people. It’s what we wanted. We voted for it! We wanted to sever our economic ties to our nearest and biggest trading partner and experience the freedom of going it alone in the big wide world, unleashed!
But that wasn’t enough! The killer clown told too many lies, and hosted too many parties in covid lockdown. He had to go. A tiny minority of elderly rich right wingers then voted for a new leader for us. One who would be more honest, less racist, less murderous, and not as stupid. Liz “Pork Markets” Truss.
Oh, fuck. She might not have been a liar, or a racist, or a murderer, but boy was she stupid. She killed the Queen, trashed the UK economy, and blew up Russia’s Nordstream pipeline, all in less than a month. Talk about a whirlwind. And some bad decisions. She now has a very nice pension. You reap what you sow.
People don’t change, but they can make good decisions. Neoliberalism doesn’t change, and the more that the people are subjected to its bad decisions, its lust for war, for death, for oil, for money, for making the rich richer and the poor poorer, the harder it gets for people to change, and the fewer good decisions are made.
Thought I was getting over my cough, but it seemed to be getting worse again over the weekend and last night.
Got some antibiotics and steroids from my GP.
Every time someone mentions Croissant (for cross-posting) I hear big kid’s Mum telling him, “You can’t have croissants for breakfast every morning!”
DPD FFS!
DPD notified me that their driver had delivered my parcel. “Parcel received by Rhanderg”.
That’s obviously not me, and neither did I have my parcel.
I saw the DPD van outside my neighbour’s block opposite, so figured he must have delivered there by mistake. But, no, my neighbour didn’t have it (and he’s not called Rhanderg either).
I opened a chat on the DPD app. The proof of delivery photo was taken at my neighbour’s door. I was assured the driver would come back later, retrieve my parcel and deliver it to me. But I’d already checked with my neighbour and they didn’t have it.
Two minutes later, the driver turns up with my parcel. He said he dropped his phone in the mud (and accidentally took a photo of him not delivering it to my neighbour’s flat?).
After last week’s early mince pie tasting, I’m road-testing an approximation of xmas dinner.
What’s missing?
I wrote 300 pages of notes and reflections in my personal and work journals in 90 days.
Four year old every few seconds: “WHAT. THE. HEEE-EEEELLLLLL???!!!”
MY CHEESE-O-METER
For the best sensation, please read this post at room temperature.
What’s so special about the cheesemakers?
Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally. It refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.
Now, I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth, but I would question the last sentence. I’m going to stick to cheese. Not literally, of course. That would be messy and smelly. Always wash your hands after operating cheese.
I’m going to stick to cheese, metaphorically - for the benefit of the cheeseless.
[@davidmarsden](https://micro.blog/davidmarsden) I am still waiting, cheeseless.
Cheeseboard Disclaimer
While I don’t consider myself to be any kind of big cheese - I’m not a cheese authority or cheese expert - I’m perfectly qualified to write a cheesy summary of my life in cheese.
Please note that I am not affiliated to the Cheese Marketing Board, and clicking any of the links in this post will not help to feed my hungry cheese-loving children.
Cheese-o-meter
Without further fondue, here’s my Cheese List.
- Triple Gloucester. The elusive holy grail of cheeses. From Gloucester.
- Double Gloucester. If you have trouble finding Triple Gloucester, then you can’t go wrong with its populist sibling Double. Trump-like appearance, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a vote-winner. Biden-like quality: good all-rounder, mild, creamy, child-friendly, goes with most things, melts easily. Oily. Used in cheese rolling competitions. From Gloucester.
- Single Gloucester. Pale and aloof, Double’s estranged half-sister. From Gloucester.
- Mature Cheddar. Hard, white, crumbles under pressure. The epitome of Englishness in cheese form. Ideal in a cheese and tomato sandwich, or a Ploughman’s lunch. Mixes well (grated) with Double Gloucester. From Cheddar.
- Vintage Mature Cheddar. See 4, but harder, whiter and crumblier.
- Mild Cheddar. See 4, but less pale, slightly softer, and less crumbly. Almost tasteless. Pointless waste of milk.
- Red Leicester. Underrated cheese. Red. Makes a fine cheese sauce for cauliflower or macaroni. Makes a great topping for a Shepherd’s Pie (better than mixing Cheddar and Gloucester - Gloucester can get a bit oily). From Leicester.
- Wensleydale. White, crumbly. Perfect with a mince pie. From Wensleydale.
- Lancashire, Lincolnshire, Cheshire. Lumping these all together not because they’re are all the same, but because it’s so long since I tried them I can’t remember what they are like. From Lancashire, Lincolnshire and Cheshire.
- Gouda. Sliced foreign cheese. Kids eat it.
- Edam. A very special Dutch cheese which is made backwards. Don’t eat the rind!
- Jarlsberg. Sliced foreign cheese. Full of holes.
- Emmental. Stringy cheese. Good for toasties and the bin.
- Swiss cheese. American cheese. From Switzerland.
- Brie. Fancy French cheese. Round, rindy, soft and stinky. Nice with a cracker.
- Camembert. See 16. It’s like no cheese I’ve ever tasted.
- Blue cheese. French. Mouldy. No thanks.
- Stilton. See 18. Not French. From Stilton.
- Ricotta. Soft, creamy. Perfect with spinach on a pizza, or better still in a calzone at Pizza World.
- Mozzarella. On a pizza.
- Mascarpone. In a cheesecake. Not a cake.
- Halloumi. Fried. On its own or with olives, hummus, pitta. From Cyprus.
- Feta. Greek salad. From Greece.
- Cottage cheese. My Mum loves it. From a cottage. From-age?
- Goats' cheese. From goats.
- Sheep’s cheese. See 26, but from sheep.
- Parmesan. Baby sick.
- Smegma. You don’t want to know where it’s from. One of the first bands I was in at school was called The Amgems. We weren’t as good or as funny as we thought we were.
- Lung cheese.
Not the most attractive presentation, but it’s all about the taste sensation.
Cheddar on the left. Wensleydale on the right.
Finally feel like I’m getting my breath back after four days of having trouble breathing in, wheezing and feeling like I’m emphyseming.
WFH SAVED MY LIFE
I’ve worked from home since the end of February 2020. I transferred all my work and systems online to do so, and while I’m still part-time, in practice I’m now available 24/7 for every conceivable administrative emergency (“Hi David. Please order me some large coloured post-it notes and have them delivered to my home tomorrow” or “Hi David. Please bring £200 in cash to my house this morning so I can pay for my lunch meeting today.").
I won’t pretend I’ve always been highly productive, in the office or at home. But I always get everything done that needs to be done, and I’m super-flexible and adaptable. I’ve been asked to do - and done - huge, complex projects at short notice and with short deadlines that are outside of my remit and frankly beyond my skill set, but I’ve done them, learned how to do it on the spot or got help.
I do go into the office for occasional in-person meetings and social gatherings (“xmas lunch” looms) when necessary, and indeed spent a solid three hours working last Thursday with a masked colleague (she had a fever) in a freezing cold office. I’d just recovered from a bad reaction to the covid vaccine. Next day was a write-off. I was exhausted and worried about whether the work we did was really good enough. The day after and since I’ve had a terrible cough and cold, shortness of breath, wheezing. (Since my COPD diagnosis, every rasping breath I take is assessed and rediagnosed by my non-medic wife as requiring medical attention.)
My workplace is bad for my health. Pre-covid I had multiple chest infections that kept me away from work and reduced my productivity to zero for weeks at a time. Since I worked from home, and catching covid aside, I’ve had zero time where I’ve been unable to go to the office for essential work that can only be done there. Even when I’ve had coughs and colds, I’ve felt well enough to do the work that needed to be done. Somehow (until now with this new cough) I don’t seem to get so ill or feel so bad when I’m at home.
Working from home has given me the time and space to transform how I work for the better. I’m better organised, more thoughtful, less rushed and distracted. I can honestly say that I’m now the most productive I’ve ever been thanks to a more comfortable, relaxed and focussed personal work space.
And, yes, being part-time, and flexible, I can take a nap if I need one.
Why should people work at home? https://youtu.be/bQN_Fb03RfE?si=CZoQagrotTA_urw8 The ‘return to work’ now being enforced by many organisations makes no sense for many people, or the planet. It really is time that we have some enlightened managers who did what is best for people and the world, and not what they see as being best for them.
Coughing like a bastard this morning.
Probably shouldn’t have smoked those twenty Roosters my Dad brought back from Kenya thirty years ago.
I vote for David Coote to replace Gary Lineker.
The politics of envy?
Big kid has written a list of all the things that make him angry.
Top of the list is bananas.
I’m officially old.
I now require eye drops, ear drops, nasal spray and an inhaler just to start the day.
Finished a grant application with a colleague just in time to meet tomorrow’s deadline.
A massive relief, and hopeful for success. Had hoped to get it done sooner but my covid hangover put paid to that plan.
Fortunately we’d done most of the groundwork in advance, but today was intense.
A genuine laugh out loud moment from Jonathan Pie, who is definitely not having a liberal meltdown.
After my experience with pump.io (pump eye-oh not pump dot eye-oh), I’m delighted that micro.blog is micro dot blog.
Distractedly scrolling through my Facebook feed, which is now entirely made up of various treatments for ADHD in adults.
Now browsing reviews for mushroom gummies (hoping to find a bad/magic batch).
NOT FAKE NEWS
Convicted felon, fascist and fake news king, the 45ᵗʰ President of the United States paid the porn star ‘stormy Daniels’ hundreds of thousands of dollars not to tell anyone that she had sex with him.
Last night, she appeared on a Channel 4 US election special with disgraced former UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who was there to plug his memoir “Unleashed.”
Daniels wanted to know if Johnson had any children, and wondered if Johnson would leave his daughter alone with Trump. (Trump has a whole series of very serious sexual misconduct allegations against him.)
Johnson explained that he has met Trump and he’s perfectly polite and well-mannered, so of course he would have no problem with him.
Johnson himself, of course, is famous among other things for being a serial liar and not knowing how many children he has.
Needless to say, Trump won the election, and Johnson is trying to make a comeback.
Wasn’t Harris ahead in the polls until the UK government started interfering in the election?