Breaking Things

Last Friday there was a big(ish) story in the BBC and Media about the convicted paedophile who is requesting his laptop – complete with ‘non-obscene’ images of one of his victims. Dorset Police were quoted in the story as saying it would be ‘unlawful’ to delete/remove those images from the laptop, because they’re not technically obscene or showing nudity.

Now, aside from the fact that there’s something so blatantly wrong with this entire process (and why wasn’t the laptop just removed/destroyed as part of the evidence and ‘proceeds of crime’ bollocks?) then surely this is a perfect opportunity for a tragic IT-related ‘accident’?

Make sure it’s believable, could happen, and is feasible, and it’d be the devil’s own job to prove anything.

For example, a liquid spillage. Or leaving the machine next to – I don’t know – some kind of large magnet. Maybe the metal scanner in a doorway. Or just mis-filed in such a way that a) it can’t be found or b) it got destroyed. Lost property, IT security, avoidance of possibility for divulging person information.

There are many, many ways in which this could’ve never been an issue. The mis-filing and “sorry, can’t find it” would be easiest (and probably hardest to be disproved) but any of them would work nicely.  It’s more of a problem now, because they’ve admitted that a) it exists and b) it’s currently in an OK state. Ooops.


Pheasant Terrorism

Some days I pretty much despair of the human race.  (OK, OK, most days. Nearly every day.)

Yesterday’s example was caused by this story in the BBC about a pheasant ‘terrorising’ people at a farm in Cambridgeshire.

From the story…

A delivery driver was trapped for 20 minutes after the bird blocked his way, flew at the bonnet then chased his van.

“One young girl was having her first driving lesson on our land and could not move the car because the pheasant would not leave it alone.”

“I don’t think we’ll see our delivery driver for a while either,” Mrs Hamilton added.

I’m sorry, but if you’re in a vehicle, and being ‘terrorised’ by a pheasant then

  1. You’re a pathetic wanker of the first order
  2. YOU’RE IN A CAR. Run over the sodding thing. Job done.

Own Goals

In the news yesterday, there were a number of stories about the arrest of Moazzam Begg – an ex-detainee of Guantanamo Bay – on suspicion of Syria-related terrorism offences.

Of course, the apologists will say “See, he’s been charged again, that wouldn’t have happened if he’d stayed locked up”, but that is – perhaps – missing a rather relevant point.

Because let’s face it, who else is going to hate a country as much as someone who’s been wrongfully interred by that country?


Vile Humour

Sometimes I really worry about my own dodgy sense of humour.

Today’s one related to the helicopter crash in Norfolk earlier this week, so if you’re easily offended, look away now and don’t click on the more link…

Read the rest of this entry »


Micro-sleeps

If you ever wanted to be really scared by a statistic, try this one from this story from the BBC about ‘micro-sleeps’

Of 1,000 drivers it interviewed, 45% of men admitted to micro-sleeping while driving, as did 22% of women.

A micro-sleep is an episode of light sleep lasting five to 10 seconds. The brain goes to sleep involuntarily and it is more likely to happen in a monotonous situation. People wake suddenly, often with a sharp jerk of the head.

I know I’ve driven behind people before that I’m sure were doing this – but maybe it’s more prevalent than I thought. Jesus.


Unnoticed

As always, stories like this bring me out in shivers.

Basically, a priest who had been reported as ‘missing’ has been found, dead. Dead in a supermarket carpark, slumped over the driving wheel of his car.  The police now believe he might have been there for three damn days – and no-one noticed.

That’s what does me – that no-one’s noticed, no-one’s realised. For three damn days.

How? If I were to see someone slumped over their driving wheel, I’d at least check – whether it’s by tapping on the window or something else. If there’s no response, the very fucking least I’d do is make sure that the store were aware, and depending on how things go, probably call the police/ambulance as a bare minimum.

How did no-one at the store itself notice? One care, parked in one place for three damn days – with someone in it? You’d think that right then they’d check it out. But no.

People piss me off sometimes.


Extreme Commuting

The BBC today has an interesting piece about so-called ‘extreme commuters’ – those who travel more than three hours a day in order to get to/from work.

As regular readers know, I’ve been doing idiot commutes on-and-off for the last twelve years. I do have periods of commute sanity (the current phase has lasted most of the last two years) but I’ve also done plenty of long commutes. My own record has been a train commute on a daily basis from either Manchester to London (and back, of course) or Bath to London. The main section of that was roughly 1.5 hours for the Bath one, or 2ish for the Manchester one, and with additional time at each end for getting door-to-door.

More recently, the two long commutes have been from Suffolk to London, and Suffolk to Luton. The London one was two-and-a-bit hours door-to-door, and the Luton one about 90 mins each way.

What interested me the most (and to some degree defuddled me) was the person commuting by car and train from Trowbridge to Hook. According to the story, that takes 2.5 hours door to door. I’m bemused, because I know that just driving that route takes between 1.25 and 1.5 hours door to door. The train journey takes longer, and also includes two changes of train. Frankly, fuck that for a game of soldiers.

I know there is the minor advantage by train that you can get some stuff done. But for me, I’d rather get in and get the stuff done in the office.

Anyway, it’s an interesting article, but as always you kind of wonder about the decisions people make, and want to know more than is covered in the piece itself.

As for me, well, I’m quite sure that at some point in the coming year I’ll do some kind of daft commute again – although from where I am now, journeys to London etc. are nowhere near as much of a struggle as they were from Norfolk and Suffolk. But there’ll be something daft to do, I’m sure.