A processing failure

A strange thing happened when I switched on the TV to watch some sport recently. For a minute I just saw this, a flat defintely 2d shape, with no relation to reality:

It was not a problem with the TV, it was a problem with the visual processing in my brain. For a few seconds it had failed to recreate the image at the bottom of this article.

I was reminded of the bloke referred to in the title of "The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat" by Oliver Sacks. The patient had no apparent optical/physical problems. He just could no longer interpret the signals coming into his brain from his eyes. When he got up to leave he grabbed his wife's head, thinking it was his hat. The shapes no longer made any sense. There was a signal processing failure.

And that is what must have happened to me, very briefly, because what I was looking at resolved itself into this, in the end (scroll down):

(Snooker and rugby, the only two sports I watch.)

Learning to limp

The handle of our teapot had an accident. I delayed ordering a new one, though I do love the design and feel of it. So, in the meantime, I got used to making the tea with the broken teapot, cupping the scorching body with my hands.

Eventually I did order a replacement and for days I forgot that the new teapot had a handle and held it awkwardly, as if it didn't.

In Italian there is a saying:

"chi va con lo zoppo impara a zoppicare"
A rough translation is "he who hangs around with people who limp, will learn to limp himself." But I had learned to limp all on my own. And I wonder in what other areas I've learned to limp when I'm perfectly able bodied/minded?
(The teapot, by the way, is a Ulster Weavers 6-Cup Susie Bone China Teapot.)

"In my opinion the giraffe's neck is too long"

When a (art, film, literary) critic prounounces on something, it is like someone saying:

"In my opinion, the giraffe's neck is too long."

A giraffe's neck is as long as it is, and if it were shorter (or longer) then the animal would not be a giraffe.

Things can be interesting or boring, beautiful or ugly. Things can be liked or disliked for a hundred reasons. But the thing, especially a work of art, is what it is. Whatever a talentless critic says.

Sometimes things come together in a perfect triplet.

Sometimes things come together in a perfect triplet... 

Thing 1: The cover of this book, designed by Tomàs Almeida, struck me as soon as I opened the package. The plants, the fruits and the flowers. The snake, the fairies, the birds. 

Thing 2: Then by chance I found a golden bookmark. I don't know where it comes from. It is 0.5 gram fine gold 999.9 from Mistubishi Materials Corporation. Gold plate I imagine. If fits perfectly with the book's cover and contents.

Thing 3: The actual novel is wonderful. I not a fan of Neil Gaiman, but his recommendation on the cover is true. 

...Sometimes things come together in a perfect triplet.

Breakfast by moonlight

Sometimes not being able to sleep has its compensations. I got up at 4:30 this morning and had breakfast on the balcony, under the Moon and under Orion.

I heard a train passing, all that was missing was the sound of a dog barking.

Then I went downstairs to get the cat from the garden and smelled his fine fur as he purred. Hmmmm.

Of course, at work, by 16:00 I was feeling tired, must sleep longer!

When a programmer dies suddenly


Italian American India Pale Ale

Recently I've got a taste for IPA (India Pale Ale) beer. It started with Poretti beer:

It made me smile to realise that this is an Italian, American, India, Pale Ale invented in England. A pretty international beer eh?

Then I thought I'd try another brand of IPA,  how about Moretti? That made me laugh too, they cut through the prolixity and just said that IPA stands for Italian Pale Ale:

I love you both!