... but I stopped. Now I'm a dad, and may blog again...

Sunday, October 23, 2011


Limited or no internet connectivity, disabling wireless connectivity, resetting wireless, renewing IP address, limited or no internet connectivity, contact administrator. No thanks; instead I'll take this brief opportunity in the fresh air of offline to write a few words about something, as yet to be determined. Even though I am fuming that the drop in connection has interrupted my streaming of series four episode three of The Museum of Curiousity on BBC iPlayer just as the editor from New Scientist magazine has finished wondering about the future developments in invisibility technology based on the sudden and massive advances in the field that have occured in the last ten years. I want to know what Robin Ince will be introducing into the museum.

Speaking of museums, I'm leaving Belfast today to return to Manchester, and yet again have failed to visit any cultural institutions of Belfast – art galleries, museums, and the like. Last time I visited the old university, but there's nothing to see except a cloister and a gift shop selling pencil cases and postcards. What makes my missing cultural excursions event more pathetic is that we are currently smackbang in the middle of the Belfast Festival, the cities major international arts festival. I'm raging; I didn't even know it was on until I looked in Flybe's inflight magazine on the return journey. Looking at the website I realise I have missed a whole pile of interesting looking art exhibitions focusing on Ulster, Irish and international art/artists. In two nights Tinariwen are playing, who are on my must-see list. Ahh well, such is life.

Our return to Manchester coincides with the potential of civil war as the taxi driver informs me that City have beat United 6-1, United's worst home defeat since February 1955 (when they lost 5-0 also against City). I'd like to think that United fans will be sanguine about it and not resort to name calling and destruction; after all it's only a game. And a fucking boring one at that, stat nerds. For some reason it's considered normal and acceptable to know vast swathes of pointless facts about football (names of managers and footballers, scores, titles, records), but sad and geeky to know the same stuff about prog rock, contemporary art, science fiction literature, computing, musical theatre, trains, or astronomy. I postulate that the majority of people aren't really in to football; they just want this common language to use as small talk with other blokes. That would be useful.

Great week in Belfast with the in-laws; now I'm tired phew and back to work tomorrow – the holiday is over and the drinking must stop, sad face. Played Sonic 2 on the Wii; that was a blast from the past. Return home to tidying, cooking, and the temperamental FreeSat box that hates us and wont let me watch Fry's English thing on BBC 2. Guten tag.

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