Reading queue

I like having a few books on the go at the same time. Or, if not that, some queued up ready for once I have finished my present read.

I am currently reading the final book of The Three Body Problem trilogy - Death's End. Sounds gloomy? It's not; it's inspiring.The whole trilogy is captivating, genuine science fiction. Brief summary (slight spoiler): an alien civilization (Trisolaris - the three suns of the title) is discovered four light years away. They are struggling with constant sequences of planetary destruction and reconstruction, as a result of being "thrown" between the three suns, and will eventually be subsumed into one of the suns. Once they get 'pinged' by an Earth signal, they figure out it might be a nice place to settle so they send an invasion fleet, which will arrive on Earth in 400 years. There is a lot of astrophysical text ("hard science fiction") and we follow (sometimes changing times forwards and backwards) Earth's scientific development and the scientists involved.

One of the my best reads in a long time. It's a fascinating study of how humanity deals with an alien threat and how it evolves as a result. Written by Liu Cixin and translated by Ken Liu and Joel Martinsen, the books have won many awards. 

Next will be Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner.

To be followed by Claire Tomalin's biography of Samuel Pepys "The Unequalled Self".

Lockdown can lead to cultural exploration!

Dukes Of Hazzard

Why do we need dukes? Do they serve any purpose today? If so, should we create more of them? By we, of course, I mean Her Maj. Who may be reading this some time soon. So some advice perhaps...

Historically, dukedoms have been used by monarchs of various countries to reward a valued service performed by someone. A military commander, for instance, who won a key battle. They become high nobles in the monarch's virtual court, below princes but above earls [there are technically marquesses in between but I don't think we have had one of those since the 16th century]. They are generally hereditary, and attached to some locality, over which they nominally "rule" - their Duchy.

So you would imagine that the Dukes themselves would feel a responsibility to live in their duchy, much like Members of Parliament often (well maybe sometimes) move to their constituencies. So how are we in the UK doing on that test?

Start from the top - the Queen is technically Duke of Lancaster. Why? Did she go to Uni there? No constituency residence.

The Duke of Edinburgh clearly thought "that's a cool place; the Athens of the North, they had dukes in  Athens didn't they? [they did]; I'll go and live there". But he didn't.

The Duke of York obviously thought "there's a great train museum there; I'll go and live next door". But he didn't.

The Duke of Cambridge  presumably studied at the Uni there. No he didn't.

The Duke of Sussex lives in California. Enough said.

The Duke of Gloucester [who he? you ask] lives in Kensington Palace and has a country home [obv] in Northamptonshire.

The Duke of Kent also lives in the very-crowded Kensington Palace, with a country home ...oh who cares?

Any more? Yes, there are 24 other Dukes in the UK. Mostly in England and Scotland but a couple in Ireland (one of those in the Republic, which is weird). None in Wales - just how united is our kingdom, your maj?

It is notable that there is no Duke of St Austell - there's definitely an opportunity here for a new appointment, ma'am. I'm available. But there is a Duke of Cornwall; it's a rather seedy pub not far from me, opposite a very decent BYO Indian restaurant. Oh, wait, I'm terrible sorry, Prince of Wales, that's you! I didn't realise you had two titles.

[Comment from the heir to the throne: I have eight]

What a ridiculous little country we are! Rich people who are related to the Queen get to live where they want and lord it over a distant community with which they have no connection.

Do I have some advice for our monarch? It kind feels a bit late for that; these things have been going for six hundred years or so.

Come the revolution...

There once was a man named Picard

There once was a man named Picard
Who was fond of quoting the bard
He flew to the the skies
On the Enterprise
And we hold him in high regard.

On board was an android called Data
A pretty darn good debater
He was really in
to playing the violin
Or so said a spectator.

Will Riker was Number One
He really had lots of fun
He played the trombone
With wonderful tone
To Picard he was like a son.

They explored every star
Checked them out from afar
They had a great trip
In the best ever ship
And will always be remembered.

Police fine plenty of joyful citizens but Cummings gets a weak little telling off

No comment necessary.

Opera trivia

OK, so who wrote the most operas? Which is the longest opera? What is my favourite opera?

There are many who believe that opera is the supreme musical and theatrical art form - gesamptkunstwerk, as the Germans say. Wagner was certainly of the opinion that opera should be more than just the "monstrosities" of Grand Opera and Bel Canto, with its emphasis on bravura singing and "meaningless plots". Take that, Guiseppe Verdi! Although for meaningless plots try watching Richard's final opera, Parsifal.

Wagner was certainly a competitor for the longest opera, Die Meistersinger von Nűrnberg coming in at over 5 hours. Of course, some might consider his Ring cycle (18 hours) of four operas as really one gigantic work.

But Wagner was a mere novice in comparison with 20th century composers. Karlheinz Stockhausen composed his Licht cycle of 7 operas, subtitled Die sieben Tage der Woche (The Seven Days of the Week), totalling 29 hours. Suffice to say, not many performances have occurred. But the winner is...

Robert Wilson's The Life and Times of Joseph Stalin, listed by Guinness World Records as the longest single opera ever performed, at 15 hours and 15 minutes. My guess is that, at this very moment, there is an American composer trapped in a White House basement, tapping away at his keyboard and writing "Trump - the Opera", coming in at 15 hours and 16 minutes, enabling our hero to say "I am the longest. The very longest. So long." (and I think we can all echo those last two words)

Who composed the most operas? Many would cite Donizetti at 75. But the Austrian Wenzel Müller (1767-1835) apparently wrote 166. There's one for the pub quiz.

Verdi's La Traviata, definitely not on Wagner's Spotify playlist, was cited by OperaBase in 2016 as being the most performed opera, with 4,190 to that point. A distant second was the opera most people would guess at for the title was Mozart's Magic Flute, with a mere 3,310. Karlheinz, you have no chance...

My favourite opera? It has to be Wagner. I enjoy the pre-Ring and post-Ring operas (to be fair, they are a bit intermingled so don't pick me up on chronology) more than the Ring itself. I absolutely love the music of Parsifal but the plot is drivel. So it has to be Tristan und Isolde.

Thanks for reading; feel free to share your favourites in the Comments.

Symphony trivia

Ever since Beethoven write 9 symphonies, that has been the benchmark for many later composers.

Of course, before then symphonies were two a penny - Haydn wrote 104 (or so; some say 106, but there are 104 numbered ones); that's 3 a year between 1759 (no. 1) and 1795 (no. 104). One can only imagine Beethoven in 1824, after finishing his 9th, thinking "only another 95 to go..."

Plenty of 9ers then followed - Dvorak, Bruckner, Mahler, Vaughan Williams come to mind easily.  Schubert completed 7, numbered 1-6 and 9, with an unfinished no. 8. No. 7 exists in draft and part orchestration. There are various unfinished symphonies, which well-meaning musicians "finished". Nice work if you can get it.

There is (or probably was) the "Curse of the Ninth" superstition, that a composer would die after writing nine symphonies. It didn't stop Dmitri Shostakovitch powering through to 15.

Wagner wrote one symphony and then gave up; writing operas was easier. If you switch off the vocals they sound like symphonies.

People like Brahms (4), Mendelssohn (5), Tchaikovsky (6), Elgar (2), Copland (3) and Sibelius (7) were a little more discerning - or maybe scared of the curse.

Berlioz wrote 4 but gave them names rather than numbers.

Schoenberg wrote 2 chamber symphonies but then decided he only needed 12 notes for the rest of his output.

R

If I have 2 children, they each have 2, those 2 have 2 and so on, how many generations of Grants will there be before the Grant population reaches one million? I believe the answer is 20; 2 to the power 20 = 1,048,576. So that's about 600 years.

If I have 3 children, they each have 3, those 3 have 3 and so on, how many generations of Grants will there be before the Grant population reaches one million? Now it's only 13 generations; 400 years.

So I've been slacking, and my grandkids need to sharpen up if we are to get there any time soon.

Obviously this assumes we are all still around to enjoy our millionth family member. So maybe a bit flawed.

But if ten people re-tweet one of Donald Trump's tweets, and so on, how long would it take for everyone in the USA to have read the tweet? There are just under 400 million people in the US, so just 9 iterations of the power of ten are needed; that could be just 9 days! Add one more day and the  whole world has seen it! Such is the power of social media that attracts the attention of demagogues and advertising executives.

Now, if 2 people read my blog and only one of them recommends it to someone else and so on, how long will it take for there to be no readers? Given that there is no such thing as half a person, very quickly. However, if I publish a second post and the original readers (so enthralled by the original post) each recommend it to one different person, then the readership expands at...some rate or other (my A Level Maths is pretty rusty now). In my case, quality is paramount; in Trump's case, quantity is everything.

The reproduction rate (R) matters in the case of COVID-19 and other viruses. The PM told us last Sunday that R was estimated at that time to be between 0.5 and 0.9. This in itself is not very helpful, given that 0.5 (my pessimistic blog R above) would eradicate the virus in the UK in 16 months, statistically, whereas a rate of 0.9 would take over 8 years.

Note the word "estimate". How do you know that one person with the virus will infect, on average, say 0.75 people? In short, "know" is the wrong word. You would only "know" if you tested every person in the country every day. However, mathematicians will use sample data to give estimates for the whole population so contact tracing, which has apparently been very successful in some Asian countries, can give good quality data. If you identify 1,000 people who have the virus and trace all of their recent contacts and test those, you will in fact have a good idea of the reproduction rate.

There are, of course, many problems with this. For us in the UK, the lack of effective contact tracing is undoubtedly problematic; perhaps the imminent use of a contact tracing app will help, perhaps it won't. I'll certainly give it a try. One of the most significant problems may be that R may be higher in highly dense city populations, e.g. New York, than in isolated rural communities. So the government has talked about the possibility of different rates of relieving the lockdown in, say, Cornwall and in London.

But at the moment there are pressures for easing the lockdown protocols for such as schools and businesses - for different reasons. Evidence is presented to politicians regarding the effects of this easing but no-one will really know what will happen until it happens. I would be more comfortable about schools resuming if there were widespread tests for both teachers and pupils. As the head of the World Health organisation said back in March, 'Our key message is: test, test, test'. I'm not sure we listened soon enough.

If we are doing 100,000 tests a day on average, how long before the whole population of the UK has been tested? Nearly two years. And the test results will be out of date after a day, so the only answer would be test everyone every day. Is that practicable? Why not? In any case, start with schoolkids.

Singalong to Brexit

Where has all the Brexit gone, long time passing?
Where has all the Brexit gone, long time ago?
Where has all the Brexit gone?
Old white men have chosen it
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where have all the young hopes gone, long time passing?
Where have all the young hopes gone, long time ago?
Where have all the young hopes gone?
Gone for young guys everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where have all the Germans gone, long time passing?
Where have all the Spanish gone, long time ago?
Where have all the Polish gone?
Gone with Belgians everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where have all the Blairites gone, long time passing?
Where have all the Cam'rons gone, long time ago?
Where have all the LibDems gone?
Gone to Europe, everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where has Nigel Farage gone, long time passing?
Where has Boris Johnson gone, long time ago?
Where has Dom'nic Cummings gone?
Celebrating, everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Acknowledgements to Dan, who reminded me Brexit still exists, and apologies to the late Pete Seeger. And not wishing to demean the spirit of the original.

Oscar winning movies and those that should have won

I watched Moonlight (best picture 2017) last night. I enjoyed it except that I had a struggle some of the time to hear the dialogue. A sign of my advancing years rather than a flaw in the film. It was a film that made me feel uncomfortable, at different moments for different reasons, but is a worthwhile exploration of a young man growing up and his various relationships. But it ultimately left me with an impression of lifelong sadness, so it was hard for me to find positives for the character. Not a feel-good film, unlike the film it beat for the Oscar, La La Land. Other beaten films of that year I haven't seen but it seems a weak year to me.

The previous year, 2016, seems to have contained a stronger field. Non-winners (I can't really think of them as losers) include the hugely enjoyable Mad Max: Fury Road, The Big Short, Bridge of Spies and The Martian. The winner was Spotlight but the best, in my opinion, was Brie Larson in Room (she got Best Actress).

2015 had two biographical films, The Imitation Game about Alan Turing and The Theory of Everything with Eddie Redmayne (of whom normally I'm not much of a fan) as Stephen Hawking. Clint Eastwood directed American Sniper and I thought Selma, about the US Civil Rights movement and starring David Oleyowo as Martin Luther King, was perhaps the best of those. The winner was Birdman, which I haven't seen, which I something I may remedy soon.

2014 was a stellar year for me. The outstanding 12 Years a Slave won the Oscar, but the runners-up list includes an excellent batch including Dallas Buyers Club (which I would probably have chosen), American Hustle (a fun A List romp), Gravity, the tense Captain Phillips and one of Leonardo DiCaprio's best roles, The Wolf Of Wall Street.

2013 had one of my favourite softie rom-coms, Silver Linings Playbook, Tarantino's tough Django Unchained, Daniel Day-Lewis as Lincoln, Kathryn Bigelow's Zero Dark Thirty (which I would make no. 2) and my no. 1, Beasts of The Southern Wild. For me it's a wonderful movie. And of course, in front of all these excellent offerings, the winner was the worst of them all and possibly the worst Oscar winner ever, Argo. Ugh.

Skip over 2012 and the dreary films such as The Artist, War Horse and The Tree Of life, and move back one final year to 2011, which had one of my favourite films of recent years - Winter's Bone. If you haven't seen it, do so! But it was listed in a truly exceptional year in which The King's Speech won and included Toy Story 3, The Social Network, Black Swan, Inception, 127 Hours, The Fighter and True Grit. One of the best years ever?

I could go on and on but I won't. You'll have noticed I skipped the latest three years. I haven't seen many of the nominations, partly because of my local cinema's dispute with one of the distributors so certain films never arrive in St Austell. But here are brief observations:

2018: The excellent Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri beaten by The Shape Of Water, a film in which a mute cleaner falls in love with a humanoid amphibian; mm.

2019: Olivia Colman wins Best Actress in the very entertaining The Favourite but is beaten by Green Book (which I have downloaded ready to watch) for Best Picture. [11pm] I watched Green Book tonight, discovered after about 2 minutes I had seen it, but it's good enough to watch again, so I did. Highly recommended.

2020: I enjoyed Little Women and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, thought 1917 was one-dimensional and haven't yet seen Parasite, the winner.

Share your opinions in the Comments!

Daily press performance

Turned on my TV to watch some YouTube video, caught a minor front bench automoton lecturing (surely lecturers are the only people who illustrate their points with slides) the hoi polloi on the government's latest thoughts. An art form in which the robot (with almost human controllers) is accompanied by a Greek chorus, to music by Mikis Theodorakis.

Automoton:
   "First slide please"

   "This shows that the situation is still bad and therefore we must"

Chorus:
   "Stay alert!"

Automoton:
   "Next slide please"

   "This shows a graph and some numbers which you, the masses, are too think to understand; all you need to know is"

Chorus:
   "Stay home!"

Human controller:
"No, minister, that was yesterday's slogan"

Automoton:
"Ah, go home!"

Human controller:
"Not quite, minister, things have changed"

Automoton:
   "Ah yes, the government has decided you can all"

   "Go to someone else's home; as long as there is only one person there. If someone else turns up you have to run away in order to "

Chorus:
   "Control the virus!"

Automoton:
   "Next slide please"

   "As you can see, it is now possible for us all to go to work"

Human controller:
   "Well, minister, it'as not as simple as that...."

Automoton:
   "Yes, well, most of you should not go to work and should"

Chorus:
   "Stay home!"

Automoton:
   "Next slide please"

   "We now have these 5 threat levels to tell us whether a terror attack is....er no, whether Chinese bat flu is likely to hit us in a second wave if we don't"

Chorus:
   "Stay alert!"

Automoton:
   "Let's hear from Nigel in Cornwall"

Nigel, on the beach with 100 friends in Cornwall:
   "Please, my dear government, all this is totally unnecessary. Do you think we are idiots? (don't answer that, minister) Every day is the same bad, sad news accompanied by suspect data and approximation curves. And you and your colleagues patronise us with drivel slogans and defensiveness statistics. Just give out the numbers in a press release and go home...or actually go and do some work...if you're allowed to"

Automoton:
   "Well thank you, Nigel, very good points, I can think we can all agree that we need to"

Chorus:
   "Save lives!"

I think we probably can agree on that.

Food and drink dilemmas

I'm drinking peppermint tea. Or is it just peppermint? That's what it says on the box. I thought "tea" was a generic term for drinks you make by pouring boiling water over leaves. But maybe tea is a protected term in some post-colonial Anglo-Indian trade treaty. Or maybe peppermint is different from peppermint tea? Who knows.

Should you make coffee with water which is boiling, nearly boiling or what? (This is obviously not for those who use the pesky machines). How do you get a kettle to produce water nearly boiling? I guess most people are like me and try to time it to the microsecond but miss out and...it boils. Is post boiled water the same as nearly boiled? Does anyone notice any difference?

Should you put the jam first on a scone, or cream first? This depends, of course, on whether you are in Cornwall or Devon. The answer, as we Cornishmen know all too well is....hang on, let me check -
in Cornwall it's jam first (correct), in Devon cream first (incorrect).

Should we decant wine from screwtop bottles? Wrong question - should we even be drinking from screwtop bottles? (I mean wine in screwtop bottles; don't get the impression I drink from the bottle) Corks good, screws bad, as George Orwell said.

And there's the age-old problem of eating spaghetti. Do you twirl the spag around a fork against the side of a spoon, cut into pieces with the spoon against a fork, suck in a genteel fashion (is that a sexist term? If so, add ladylike for balance) or just duck your head and slurp?

Don't get me going on chopsticks. Whoever invented those? I mean the person, not the nation. What ridiculous implements. I get that maybe they pre-dated knives, forks and spoons but now? That's just silly.

Enjoy your dinner, people! Or should it be supper? I think one is for a meal you cook for family and friends and the other involves eating in a restaurant but I don't care enough to check this. It's just food! And drink. Obviously.

Celebrity Nigels

I have never really liked my name. I accept it in a Zen kind of way but it definitely isn't cool. I don't know how my parents chose it; to my knowledge there is no previous Nigel in the family. Then I thought that maybe, in 1944, there were famous Nigels around and I was named after, say, an atomic scientist who had just invented the atom bomb, or a heroic general in the Allied armies.

So I researched.

The National Army Museum website tells me:

"During the Second World War, Nigel Clogstoun-Willmott founded the Combined Operations Pilotage Parties (COPP) to undertake covert beach reconnaissance. This proved vital for the success of Allied seaborne invasions."

Various obituaries in 2001 told me:

"Nigel Clive was one of the heroic small band who were parachuted into the Greek mountains to assist the Greek resistance against the Axis occupiers in 1943-44...he received the Military Cross in 1944"

I don't think my parents would have named me after these heroes, so I thought maybe Nigel was the most popular boys' name in 1944. I checked a list on BabyNames.it and Nigel came...not at all in the top 1000. Seriously, Mum and Dad? Behind Willie, Alvin, Marion (!) and even Grant - although I don't imagine Grant Grant would have helped in life. Oh wait a minute, these are American names. Ah, obviously Nigel is supremely British, maybe even English, so let's see if I can find an English list of boys' names in 1944.

Ah, he we are, I am number 69, far ahead of common names such as Reginald, Jack, Daniel (ha!) and Mohammed - what? there were Mohammeds in England in 1944? Wow. The no. 1? Do your own research!

So I have no idea what was going through my parents' minds. Maybe they just new a nice chap who they admired, and thought "let's have one of those".

So far, no celebrities. At least what we in 2020 are made to believe are celebrities. My two WW2 heroes definitely should be but I imagine they were pretty much unknown to the public at the time.

So, a few modern Nigels.

One who I wouldn't mind having been - Nigel Kennedy, supremely talented but definitely weird/quirky.

One who I'm glad I'm not - Nigel de Jong, Dutch footballer hard man who should have been sent off by Howard Webb (as he himself later admitted) in the 2010 World Cup Final for a wild king fu style kick.

And I'm not going to mention Nigel F...

When I was at school, my O Level Spanish teacher, in the first lesson, asked us each in turn what our first name was. He then told each student what the Spanish equivalent was and that name would be used in class. Plenty of easy and obvious ones - Leonardo, Antonio, Miguel, Alejandro...I was the only one for whom there was no Spanish equivalent! The embarrassment; maybe that was the moment I started to dislike my name.

What did he decide to call me?

Rafael.

Now there's a classy name. I'd have liked that and, at some time later in life, maybe changed my name by deed poll.

Boris at 7?

I don't think I'll be watching. Not quite the gravitas and sincerity of her maj (and I didn't watch her).

Same old, same old depressing news and prospects with a few tweaks. Can we even believe the data? Are the scientists all they are cracked up to be?

You know, I've never been a fan of Matt Hancock. He has always been too fond of the limelight and of crass sound bites (which politician isn't?). But in this case, he has definitely drawn the short straw and, particularly while the PM was off sick, held the fort nobly and quite responsibly and robustly. He has struggled, yes, but who wouldn't have? There have been mistakes, yes, but maybe we'd all have made the same ones. Or worse.

But what can the PM say which will make a difference to my life currently? Very little, I imagine. Whatever he says, I shall continue 2 metre distancing, continuing exercising when I feel it will be beneficial (I've always been happy to take two short walks in a day rather than the ridiculous "one a day" advice (or is it a rule? I don't know).

I will be happy to be able to visit my garden centre soon, but I'd prefer the recycling centre to be open. Both would resolve some gardening issues. Even better would be outdoor tables in pubs. I don't see that happening but I think it wouldn't be that hard for pubs with beer gardens and outside tables to implement table service by staff with masks, tables to be isolated. If we can walk in the outside areas of garden centres, why not outside tables in pubs?

I recently had to go to Halfords to get a new car battery. They had implemented what seemed to me to be a robust isolating process which felt totally safe. Similarly, B&Q and the pet shop in the same small complex. I just feel more could do so. I don't understand why my local garage is closed when the one up the road is open.

Right from the start, I have felt that the emphasis on enforcement and police powers is too great. The vast majority of people are able to see the sense in behaving responsibly and not mixing or getting too close to others. If you come across those who don't do so, keep away from them. And I guess I have been ignoring the advice by driving a short distance to an area to take a walk - that seems totally appropriate; the argument that it isn't necessary is the wrong argument. I have noticed quite a few of our elderly residents resting on conveniently place bench seats to have a breather during their walk; good on them.

Then there is football. Amidst all the severe social distancing restrictions, we are going to allow 22 sweaty men and women to chase around, grapple and tackle, puff, pant and splutter all over each other? I'm the first to want footy back on screen but we all know it's about money.

There - this wasn't supposed to be rant, but that's what it has become. Sorry readers, sometimes that's what you get from bloggers.

I may be wrong; maybe he'll cheer us all up.

Quotations

Civiization VI is a 4X (eXplore, eXpand, eXploit, eXterminate) turn-based strategy game, my favourite computer game.

The aim is to take a civilization from the ancient era through the years into space and beyond, accumulating science, culture, faith and gold and using them to pursue a victory such as being the first player to reach the distant stars.

Here is a screenshot from one of my current games:

I am playing as the Mapuche, a South American people, led by Lautaro. I am at war with the Netherlands, led by Wilhelmina. I have just captured her city of Mbwila. That doesn't sound very Dutch, I hear you say? It was originally a city belonging the Kongo but the Dutch captured it; now they are getting their comeuppance. (She also captured Hong Kong, as you can possibly see; very rude)

Each turn I use each of my units - builders build improvements such as farms and mines, apostles spread religion, planes attack units, artillery bombards cities, etc. When I have finished my turn, the AI civilizations take theirs.

This particular game is moving into the end game: I am building a spaceport, although I'm still using my (now ancient) tank armies. But do not worry - I have just discovered uranium and am on my way to researching Robotics, after which I will be able to build Giant Death Robots - Wilhelmina, beware!

Here's another game I'm playing:

Here I am the Maori, on a true world map. The Maori, led by Kupe, started in the ocean in the game, discovered and settled New Zealand (obv) and have now settled Australia. Australia is led by WWII PM John Curtin but are absent without leave in this game!

Enough of this nonsense, I hear you say. What about the quotations? The Civilization series has always prided itself on historical authenticity and, every time you research a technology or a civic, the mellifluous tones of Sean Bean utter the words of some worthy. The words are always authentic (i.e. were spoken or written by the author) but not necessarily true (i.e. may have been fake news).

Here are some of them.

My favourite is:

• “NASA spent millions of dollars inventing the ball-point pen so they could write in space. The Russians took a pencil.” (Will Chabot) [Space Race civic]

These are for bloggers:

• “Writing means sharing. It’s part of the human condition to want to share things – thoughts, ideas, opinions.” (Paulo Coelho)
• "Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words." (Mark Twain) [both Writing civic]
• "Which of all my important nothings shall I tell you first?" (Jane Austen) [Social Media civic]

There are so many good ones that I had a hard time whittling them down to a few more, to complete this post:

• “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” (Winston Churchill) [Animal Husbandry tech]
• “I cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder … Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that.” (Capt. E.J. Smith, RMS Titanic) [Shipbuilding tech]
• “The good thing about computers is that they do what you tell them to do. The bad news is that they do what you tell them to do.” (Ted Nelson) [Computers tech]

Finally, the iconic:

• “I’ll be back.” (Arnie as The Terminator) [Robotics tech]

You can read them all at https://lowrey.me/civilization-vi-quotes/

Play the game and enjoy Sean Bean's droll delivery!

More weird child naming

After Elon Musk's presumably gender-neutral X Æ A-12 name for his baby, which I can relate to, I found plenty of other weird names which parents have given their children.

One of the things you have to consider is what the name could get abbreviated to. Musk's son could easily be referred as X or perhaps A-12 by his mates; I guess in California that wouldn't be considered odd.

Thanks to Caitlin Moran in yesterday's Times, I now know that someone called Jason Lee has a son called Pilot Inspektor, and Frank Zappa (of whom I had vaguely heard) has children called Moon and Dweezil.

Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, who I believe have "uncoupled", have a child called Apple which, given the above, seems almost mainstream.

For those of you who thought Coco is a cat's name, Courtney Cox and David Arquette have a daughter of that name.

Do you think all of these strangely named kids go to the same school in Hollywood? I can't see them risking bullying from the Jimmies, Wendys and the like at the neighbourhood school.

I should be supremely grateful that my grandchildren have almost normal names (almost? you mean everyone who isn't Nigel is somewhat suspect?). But a part of me wishes Simon (born in Ipswich) was named The Tractor Boy and Dan (Manchester) was The Red Devil. Wow, I like that thought!

Elon, your little guy isn't alone in the world. And he could one day be the first man on Mars, who knows?

Impossible quiche

Just made the so-called impossible quiche. Thanks to DiL (daughter in law) Nat and https://www.taste.com.au/recipes/impossible-quiche-2/8244d479-b108-4b9c-9727-25e7041d8fd2

I guess Nat thought it was impossible for even me to get it wrong!

I used bacon instead of ham, because that's what I had.

Wow, it actually looks like a proper quiche!

I'm always amazed if my cooking or baking turns out like it's supposed to. So Nat, it is impossible to mess up!

Just eaten a slice, with salad, for dinner (some call that supper, but I'm a commoner). Leaving two more meals for the weekend.

Tasted pretty good but is it fattening?

Spotify

I often wonder whether I'm getting good value from my £9.99 pm Spotify subscription. I listen to so little music but I do so, like everything else, in fits and starts.

Maybe I should have symphonic nights as well as my movie nights.

I am a fan of Mahler's symphonies and could easily binge listen to them in sequence. I am definitely interested in Bruckner's symphonies. I'm pretty sure I haven't heard them all but I couldn't say which I have.

I could list the tracks on my Spotify playlists but that would be very embarrassing. On the other hand....

OK, this is playlist Nigel1:

* I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables (film version) - Anne Hathaway

* Send in the Clowns from Stephen Sindheim's A Little Night Music - Judy Collins

* I Have A Dream from Mamma Mia - Amanda Seyfried

(Oh my goodness, this really IS embarrassing - but if you blog you probably have to be prepared to be embarrassed)

* Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra
(that's more like it)

* A Whiter Shade Of Pale - Annie Lennox

* Baba Yetu - The Soweto Gospel Choir
(that will get you all Googling)

* Imagine  - John Lennon

* Pinball Wizard - The Who

* Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti

* We Are The Champions - Queen

* Dido's Lament "When I am Laid In Earth" (Purcell) - Sally Stapleton

* Adagietto from Mahler's 5th Symphony - Valery Gergiev, London Symphony Orchestra

* Adagio for Strings (Samuel Barber) - Leonard Bernstein, New York Philharmonic

* All I Do Is Dream Of You - Faultline

* Fanfare for the Common Man - Aaron Copland, London Symphony Orchestra

 * Lacrimosa from Requiem (Mozart) - Stephen Cleobury, Academy Of Ancient Music

* Summertime from Porgy and Bess - Miles Davis

That's quite eclectic, now I think about it. Pretty sure Trevor will chastise me for listening on my Amazon Alexa but that's what I am doing now as a I write this.

I also have more stuff in my Spotify library: Bach, Wagner, Wynton Marsalis, Ariana Grande, Prokofiev and of course more Mahler. So maybe a tenner a month is OK for value.

I enjoyed writing this, re-listening to previous choices and now thinking about new playlists. Thank you for reading!

Movie nights

Everyone has movie nights, right?

In the absence of footy on TV, I'm downloading classic films, maybe one a night.

I'm trying to find some I haven't seen but am happy to repeat some of the most enjoyable.

And they are mostly going to be classic/iconic films, so no James Bond, Star Wars or The Hunger Games.

I couldn't remember whether I'd seen The Shawshank Redemption but after just a few minutes on Sunday I realised I had. But it's such an excellent movie that I watched it again.

Monday was an all-time favourite, 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Yesterday I revisited The Matrix; some time since I saw that. And maybe I'll re-watch the sequels.

Tonight it will be The Godfather.

My friend Tony recommended The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Doesn't sound like my kind if film but I'll give it a go.

A few days ago, I started Forrest Gump, having avoided it until now. I really struggled with it but I should persist, I think.

Here's a few I'm considering (not in any particular order). Suggestions are very welcome!

Citizen Kane
Dr Strangelove
Vertigo
The French Connection
Rosemary's Baby
The Dark Knight
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Amadeus
Parasite
No Country For Old Men
The Departed
Green Book

There are also plenty of TV series I haven't watched. But that's for another time.

Z♞♫Spitfire⛄CIV6

Getting my entry in early for the First Great Grandchild name competition.

Sometimes you are too dumbstruck to say anything more (that's me on Wednesday).

(with apologies and respect to Elon and Grimes)

Brief musings on Tuesday

I read in today's Times2 that "A lot can go wrong if you overdo your daily run".  I get that, so no more running for me.

How often do you have to use Mr Google when you have just watched a movie or TV show, especially a season finale, in order to figure out "what happened there?" For me, quite a lot. Last night I watched two such. Firstly, the season finale of Westworld. This was season 3 and I remember that I gave up watching season 2, although I can't remember why. Maybe the violence, maybe the sense of not knowing what's going on. Nevertheless I decided to give seaason 3 a go, because the basic premise of Westworld (artificial lifeforms and the degree to which, if at all, they develop sentience) is intriguing. But here we are again - after last night, on to Google to find out what just happened. In so doing, I discovered that, contrary to what I thought I had heard, this was not the final season so, in a year's time, I'll be in the same dilemma. Is it worth it?

Also I watched 2001. Again. For the umpteenth time. And still baffled by the ending. Onto Google ending to see what others think. Maybe I've done that before, it wouldn't surprise me. Don't get me wrong, it's still a great film, but there is still the nagging feeling that Kubrick and Clarke didn't really think the thing through to the end. I guess I should check the book, which I think was completed after the film.

Now sometimes I have no problem with a baffling ending, because it forces me to think through the central thesis of the film/TV series. I think 2001 is in this category, as was the last ever episode of The Sopranos. But if it makes you think "who cares?", not so much. Such as the ending of Lost (I can't believe I actually stayed up until 2am to catch it live from the US). Or Westworld.

Am I the only person afflicted by this? Does that make me dumb?

I also read and think about proposals to restart the football season. Now there is no-one more eager to watch it again live on TV than me but the whole idea, even behind closed doors, seems crazy. It's a contact sport, players run about very fast, puffing, panting, perspiring; what happens when one player, who has recently played in a match, is diagnosed with the virus? Re-suspend? Agree it was a ghastly mistake and cancel the season? Nonsense, just be patient and finish the season in a year's time, if necessary.

I fear I'm beginning to sound like Rod Liddle. Ugh.

Croquet

There are two forms of croquet - the right form (Association Croquet) and the wrong form (Golf Croquet). The latter is essentially Croquet For Dummies, so we won't dwell on it.

I played croquet for many years and immensely enjoyed it. It is a strategic and tactical challenge, involving a great deal of skill.

I was once, very briefly, ranked 637th in the world. Now, readers will no doubt wonder whether there are only about 638 croquet players in the world, or even whether the "world" in this case means England (rather like American Football or Aussie Rules). But mock not - I am proud of it.

A game of croquet takes place between two players or two doubles teams. We'll talk about singles - one player against another. Each player has two balls, of different colours. The game takes place on a lawn containing six hoops, laid out as follows:

As you can see, you go through the hoops in a particular sequence. Generally twice round, with the second half the reverse (ish) of the first. To win the game, get both your balls through the hoops in the correct sequence then hit them against the peg in the middle. Before your opponent does.

So, it's a simple game? No, it isn't. Because the hoops are around 4" wide and the balls are 3⅝" diameter - not much leeway (OK, if you want to be pedantic, I may be confusing simple with easy here, but croquet is neither). There is a sequence of shots which you need to use to position your ball in front of a hoop and then run it through.

Once both of your balls are in play and it is your turn, you can hit one of your balls to hit one of the other three - your other ball and you opponent's two balls. If you miss - unless you manage to hit your ball through a hoop - your turn is over. If you hit, you pick your ball up and "take croquet". That is, you put your ball down touching the ball you hit and hit your ball away from the touching ball - also moving that ball - towards one of the other balls or towards the hoop through which you are aiming to go. You then have a continuation shot, in which you can hit one of the other balls which you haven't yet taken croquet from, or go through your hoop. Once you get the ball through a hoop, the sequence is reset so that you can use the other three balls again.

Now here is the really clever part: because you move both balls on your croquet shot, you can play the object ball to a position where it can be useful in a subsequent shot after you have "made" your hoop and can then roquet (that is the shot where you hit your ball against another ball to earn the croquet shot) that ball again. Using all four balls, therefore, it is possible to go all the way round the six hoops and the six return hoops in one turn.

I have done it and here is the proof:

So, a twelve point break - that's all 12 hoops in one turn. No bisques - a bisque is a free turn you can use if you are playing a handicap game. Handicaps work in a similar fashion to those in golf. If I have a handicap of 7 and my opponent has a handicap of 5, I receive 2 bisques (free shots) from him/her, which I can use at any point when it is my turn. So, if I get through 5 hoops and then break down by not getting my ball through a hoop, I can use a bisque and carry on the turn (I think that may be what a mulligan is in golf).

There's a lot more to croquet than that. For instance, you have to consider the situation you are leaving your opponent in, when you approaching the end of your turn and he will take his turn next. Because you are trying to set yourself up to get through hoops, you are also trying to prevent his being able to do so when it's his turn. And beware! Since you are probably using his balls to set up your own break, you may have set them up perfectly for his next turn!You can be constructive or destructive, aggressive or passive, cautious or risky. So it's a strategic game as well as tactical.

So, to play croquet, you need to have ... a brain and good legs - like this chap:

There's a croquet club near you. Go and enjoy! https://www.croquet.org.uk/

Low boredom threshold and previous transitory enthusiasms

I told you recently about my brief reunion with the pleasure of bird watching. That set me thinking about what my bookshelves remind me of previous short-term enthusiasms.

As I sit here writing this, I can see a large , picturesque book "The Tropical Marine Aquarium". I had one once but the guppies, angelfish, mollies and the like didn't live very long, and some fish enjoyed (too much, in my opinion) eating the others. BTW (for those, like me, over 70, that means By The Way) whilst researching this post (yes I do research for these meaningless ramblings) I discovered guppyexpert.com, which has a page "20 Best Guppy Fish Tank Mates". Wow, the things people know!

If you are thinking of having an aquarium, you should know that they require a lot of effort - cleaning, checking temperature and oxygenation, etc. - and all the fish do is swim about aimlessly and ungratefully. Occasionally a mummy fish (temporary, as female guppies can apparently change sex - very woke) will have babies, which the other fish in the tank immediately treat as a new source of food. Ugh.

Next to that book is "50 walks to country pubs". Well thumbed but no use at the moment, obviously. If there was a book "50 aimless walks within 100 metres of your house", that might be relevant.

Then there's a whole shelf of cookery books. What are they for? Did some previous owner of this house leave them? I shouldn't mock, as I think one or other of my sons (maybe both) gave me some when I moved to Cornwall, in the forlorn expectation that I would be spending my retirement in my kitchen. Thanks, guys.

"Supper won't take long" is one book, by Lindsey Bareham. Too true, I gobble my food like a Trojan (i.e. inside a horse). An obviously second hand "Pakistan Cookery Book" is next to it. Opening it for the first time ever, I discover 185 recipes for such treats as Dahi Baras, Suji Cake and Kachories. Mm, delicious. And a print of an internet page "How to Cook Beetroot". Wait, you COOK beetroot? You mean it doesn't come out of a jar?

A book on Mentoring sits alongside Samuel Beckett's "Krapp's Last Tape". Diversity.

Then there is a huge "Chronicle of the 20th Century". A relic of my early Cornwall days when  I used to go to auctions. And brought home piles of tat and ancient books, to adorn my house. Ugh again.

And get this - this jigsaw...

...has been on that table for three years! You can see the picture has lots of (similar) blues and prolonged exposure to the sun, by a south facing window, has faded many of the pieces so the whole thing is a puzzle - er, yes Nigel, a puzzle duh!

Will I ever finish it? I'm probably not THAT bored.

I'm a dabbler - I try something, get tired of it, move on to something else. Like yoga. And croquet. Spotify. Netflix. Probably - at some time in the distant future - blogging.

Not to worry, there's a new computer game coming out tomorrow which I have pre-ordered. That should keep me going for a .... month?

Baking is for wimps

No, you bakers are definitely not the wimps. I am the wimp - having no confidence that anything I do in the kitchen will turn out as expected.

But...

Today I am baking some cookies. You must be aware by now that cooking and baking are not my favourite pastimes but they are definitely useful ways to fill lockdown time. Until recently I have never made cookies. And I tend to avoid anything floury on the basis that I put on weight rather easily (I know, it's also because I have an aversion to exercise).

I have made two batches of cookies recently. The first, plain ones, were not exactly a failure but on the success scale would rate about 3.5. Too wet hence rather flaky, too chunky so filling, possibly undercooked. For the second I decided that recipes were more in the nature of general guidelines rather than prescriptions, so I slightly increased the flour content, flattened them and cooked them at a higher temperature and for longer than the recipe stated. And added chocolate chips. Result: 10.0 on the Nige scale. Very tasty, probably fattening but if I only eat a few every day maybe that won't matter (just kidding, one a day with morning coffee).

Today I have run out of chocolate chips so am going to try raisins. Dunno how that will work out.

I did think of posting this as a video but that seemed rather overrating my kitchen skills and behaviour. And my grandson Oliver has already done a really good cooking video, which I cannot compete with.

In fact I decided to make oatmeal raisin cookies, using a recipe on bbcgoodfood.com (I'm not sure this is a good use of licence payers' money, or what a public service broadcaster should be doing, but I'll skip over that). With some adjustments/substitutions.

Once finished, I hope to post a picture of the finished articles.

[An hour passes]

And here they are:

You can see two things from that. One is that I probably should have made more smaller cookies than fewer larger ones (minor point, I can just halve them when eating). The other, more important, is that I probably cooked them a little too long or possibly at a lower temperature (that was one the adjustments I made - Nigel, don't think you know better than these people). They are definitely a little crispy.

[Ed: you also need to sort out the lighting on these pics]

Now for the taste test. I am pleasantly surprised at the texture - soft and chewy on the inside and harder on the outside is probably what I'm aiming for. However, they are definitely a little TOO crispy, so my overall rating for this batch is:

7.0

Big little birds

I used to be an enthusiastic twitcher (for those not in the know, a twitcher is a bird watcher; don't ask me why). In my teens. In my late teens, when most of my contemporaries were enjoying the pleasures of the Swinging Sixties, I went bird watching. I don't know whether other people think of me as sad (not a sad old git, that's different), but to myself I am a bit of a sad nerd.

I am always amazed at the clear and expansive memories people purport to have of their childhoods. I have very few and have always felt that says something about me - indeed, I have observed others' bafflement of my blank answer to the question "did [insert name of son] enjoy [insert some harmless pastime]?" Is everyone else making these "memories" up? Anyway, I do remember going bird watching when I was supposed to be revising for my A Levels. Yes, I know this is dangerously similar to Theresa May's confession of running through a wheat field. A fellow nerd.

The other day I noticed in my garden (there's another thing people find baffling about me: my indifference to my garden and in particular my aversion to gardening; I have many times mulled over the possibility of astroturfing the lot) a bird table. A sturdy stone (or is it concrete?) bird table. This bird table has in fact been in the garden since I moved into the house 16 years ago. It is rarely frequented by the birds of the neighbourhood, as there is no food on it. The top is in the shape of a miniature motte in the middle with a moat around it, surrounded by a bailey. On the bailey is a delightful (some would say) miniature sculpture of a tiny bird.

[Ed: readers with a knowledge of medieval castle terminology should feel free to comment on any inaccuracies]

This rough-hewn castle top is supported by what can only be described as a small, intricately carved Ionic column, about two and a half feet high.

[Ed: similarly for those up in  Greek architecture]

There is a flaw in the "moat". A small crack in the stone which causes water to drain away very rapidly. So birds can get their fill of seeds but don't get to drink. How healthy this is for their bodies, I don't know, but I can supply seed in the hope that they will fly elsewhere to find liquid refreshment.

Anyway, I saw this bird table. Over the years, I have had occasional spurts of enthusiasm for attracting birds to my garden by supplying bird seed. I haven't done so for a while (I usually think of this during the fine weather of summer, which of course is counter intuitive for the birds who need their food supplements in winter, but this is for my pleasure, not theirs) but immediately saw an opportunity to fill a few self-isolating hours watching pretty little multi-coloured things flitting about enjoying the high quality seed I provided - and of which I discovered I had some.

So I settled down to watch the influx of bird life into my life, over the next few days. I even scrabbled through my book shelves and found a Field Guide to the Birds of Britain and Europe (see - that's nerdy), in order to identify the myriad visitors (all of whom are not subject to social distancing rules, government edicts and police drones, but I'm not going there).

What's that little brown thing? I think it's a ... house sparrow!

And that one of similar size but more grey than brown - I think a dunnock.

She with a tiny yellow streak on her crown - it's my next door neighbour. No just joking, it's a female (hence "she") chaffinch. Then a great tit, which undoubtedly would prefer one of those nut cages you hang from branches.

Whoa! Who's this huge black thing? Could it be a raven? Probably not, Nigel, ravens prefer rocky ledges, albeit reasonably common on Cornish coasts (I can't quite see the sea from my house). It's a blinking great crow! Go away, you'll frighten the children pretty little birds!

I shoo the ugly crow away noisily, which causes the whole bird population of St Austell to give my garden a miss for a while. But what is this? Two huge, plump wood pigeons arrive and (very rapidly) scoff the remaining seed. No wonder they are so obese. When one of the tiny birds tries to sneak in around the edges, they peck at them and re-claim their territory.

For Bill and Ben - as I now call them - have claimed my bird table as their own. The seed has gone but they sit there....looking ominous....waiting....still waiting....Remember Hitchcock's The Birds? I do, very scary (I saw it in the cinema as a teenager - match that, Theresa May), and this is like that.

What to do? Theoretically I suppose I could capture them and cook them - nice juicy pigeon breasts. Is that even legal? Are they a protected species? Maybe I could find my old air gun I has when I was a teenager....no, I'm not going there, although that surely trumps Theresa May.

I wake up in the morning - maybe it was all a dream. No, they are still there, lurking, threatening - dare I go out into the garden ever again?

Going all Buddhist on myself, I ask whether one life is more valuable than another. Wood pigeon, crow, chaffinch - do they all have equal rights to my bird seed? Should I just accept that nature has allowed the big to bully the little? Who knows?

Actually, they are quite handsome, in their own ways.

Smoothie lunch

Banana
Oat Milk
Chocolate Whey
Peanut Butter
(should have cocoa but haven't got any)

Mm

I am currently reading...

The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu. My friend Tony rails against the use of the term science fiction for space fiction such as Star Wars, but this is the real deal.

After I finish this, I shall be reading:

• The Crusades, A History From Beginning to End by Henry Freeman

I recently finished:

• The War Of The Worlds, re-reading H G Wells' classic some 50+ years after I first read it. Stimulated by the recent excellent Fox TV series, which was more a re-imagining than simply an up to date version.
• the miracle of castel di sangro (Ed: lower case as used in the title - no grammatical purist comments, please), not only a great football book but tremendous social commentary. "In the summer of 1996, in a tiny, impoverished town deep in the remote heart of southern Italy, a sporting miracle took place. The footballers of Castel di Sangro (population: 5,000) won promotion to Serie B, the division directly below the most glamorous league in world football."
• A Thousand Splendid Suns, the second novel by Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner
• And The Mountains Echoed, the third novel by Khaled Hosseini. All beautiful books.
• Killing Pablo by Mark Bowden: The Hunt for the World's Greatest Outlaw
• The Last Day by Andrew Hunter Murray: "Murray paints a grim picture of a draconian isolationist Britain" says the Guardian Books of the Month (really? you want us to read about ourselves, Nigel?)

I also have a bedside cabinet with a pile of half-read and waiting-to-be-read books, just waiting for me to delve into. All gathering dust waiting to be started/finished and gifted/lent by family/friends:

• Black Snow by Mikhail Bulgakov
• blink by Malcolm Gladwell
• The Potter's Hand A.N.Wilson
• Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell
• Mao's Greatest Famine by Frank Dikötter
• The Charlton Men by Paul Breen
• The Bones of a Season by Paul Breen
• The Fatal Shore by Robert Hughes

and...

• a job lot of The Complete Novels of H G Wells (over 55 works one down only 54 to go) - £0.75 for the Kindle! That H G, he was a busy man!

Please feel free to share your current reading here; I'd be happy to know!