Erm… I have news for you: it’s not just coffee and spuds—my own ancestors and, indeed, the ancestors of every organism alive today also survived the cataclysm that killed the [non-avian] dinosaurs.
I was complaining to Jen the other day that, when I was a boy, everyone said that, by this time, we’d all have robot butlers and flying cars. But, on reflection, the biggest technological improvements I’ve seen during my life are:
ring-pulls on cans on beans;
longer-lasting, less leaky batteries;
brighter bulbs on electric torches.
Jen reckoned, if they hadn’t frittered away quite so much time on batteries and torches, we would almost certainly have had our robot butlers by now.
A fascinating idea, which I hope bears scrutiny—although I expect it will receive a lot.
But my immediate reaction was to question why on earth the BBC felt the need to describe this gentleman as a ‘Londoner’. What has that got to do with anything? So, here are some alternative headlines for you:
So that was 2022… The year Putin spectacularly miscalculated and millions suffered. The year we finally got rid of the liar, only to see him replaced by someone so breathtakingly incompetent, it was enough to see off the poor old queen. The year the nasty little ginger shit (I’m guessing) finally got the results of the paternity test and decided Sod this for a game of soldiers!
On the plus side, Jen finally made an honest man of me, and I took some more photos. So here’s my twelfth annual video slide-show review of the year:
Consistent as ever, as in the previous ten years, this year’s slide-show contains 97 photos.
Once again, I composed the ambient pap backing track. It is called Slide Salad:
Jen and I were watching the film Collateral last night when I realised the tune playing in the background was the same tune that plays in the background during the car chase through Paris in The Bourne Identity. Out of curiosity, I asked the Shazam feature on my iPhone to identify the tune. But before Shazam could listen to and analyse the track, the music faded out.
Never mind, I thought, as I watched Tom Cruise rushing through a crowd of people.
Then, a few seconds later, Shazam gave a little ping and offered the following:
Outdoor Market or Fair Ambience with People Milling Around and Talking by The Hollywood Edge Sound Effects Library.
Over the last few years, I’ve begun to lose track of who the Prime Minister is.
I can remember they’re a useless, cronyist populist, but that’s not exactly helping. “Is it still that liar,” I wonder to myself, “or is it that other liar?” “Is it that over-privileged Old Etonian, or is it that other over-privileged Old Etonian?” ”Is it that useless woman, or is it…” You see my predicament: they’ve all merged into one.
If only there were some sensible solution to this indistinguishable-PM problem.
