Another day, another dollar.

The first thing I did after leaving work was to go and give blood. They've phoned me three times and sent me two cards about this - in the last three weeks, just - so I suppose they're fairly serious about wanting it. I chatted to a very nice bloke with a silly haircut (quite like my old silly haircut, actually) about their new Machine That Goes Ping, which automates the process of rocking the bloodbag to mix the anticoagulant into it, at the expense of making the process of setting out the various bags and tubes rather more complex, and forces a rearrangement afterwards into the other arrangement that the labs need them in. Apparently it was the least popular (but cheapest) of the three machines they tested, and he didn't think it was going to reduce the workload or staffing needs, which of course was the aim.

Oh well.

After that I went home, got something to eat and then went over to see Lara and Seth fresh back from Sardiniania (which is part of Italy, as you can apparently tell from the driving). After Alex and Marianne had arrived, we all forced them (at gunpoint) to show us their holiday snaps, which were excellent - all hills, limpid seas and mosaic-encrusted remains. And cormorants. Lots of cormorants.

My brief visit stretched out until half-eleven, at which point I went back and spent a couple of hours transferring two-thirds of The DaVinci Cod onto the computer so I can reuse the tape tomorrow - hopefully I can fit the other transferring job in tonight, around or amongst the Samhain stuff.

The Grauniad didn't reach KB today, so I got a copy of the Indescribablyboring instead. I didn't use to agree with that description - while a touch dry, I always found the Indie to be a well-written and informative paper - but this time (the first since tabloidisation) I haven't been able to relate to it at all. News articles and other features seemed to be scattered amongst each other without logic, and nothing really tempted me to read it for more than a few lines. I suppose it's a question of what you're used to, but clearly Indie and I have diverged, and if I ditch the Guardian over its new format I suspect it'd be for the Herald. Having said that, I haven't read the H in a while. Maybe I should.

The other annoying thing about this is that If . . . is very good this week, so I have to look for a copy on the way home - unless anyone got it and can scan today's?
  • Current Mood: calm
  • Current Music: Cooling fans, a restive workmate and buckling springs.
I spent about 2 weeks reading the Indy a few months ago and as well as often being rather dry, it had a series of Daily Mail level scare stories about women/working/babies/ohmygodeveryhoiceyoumakeiswrong. So I quickly abandoned it again. At least if I know I'm reading the Daily Hate, I'm braced for the backlash.

As long as we live in a world that discriminates against primary carer parents, and expects women rather than men to be primary carer parents, people will have some real grounds upon which to print such scare stories. That doesn't mean that I think that the scare stories help that situation; I don't at all.
I propbably read the Independent more regularly than any other paper now I'm unemployed. When I was working the hotel had the Telegraph for guests so I read that most days, copies of other papers would be left around so I flicked through those too. Purchase wise I seemed to bounce between the Guardian and The Independent (not always guarnteed to get both available by the time I got to the shop).

I think I like some of the columns in the Independent more than those in the Guardian, and their sports coverage is usually less annoying.
Ah well, I don't usually go near the sports pages. The columns may well be at least as good if you read them - and the same may well be true of the news - but for some reason it just doesn't draw me in like it used to. I suspect we have simply grown apart.
sorry about re posting ..delete mr anonymous..on a german proxy here..

The Da Vinci Cod...spectacularly good typo!!!

I gave up newspapers due to an allergic reaction to the print ink. My chin just seems to itch and itch...mucho stroking.

Scotland On Sunday has been up to its old tricks of half price vouchers and special offers like old maps from the NLS.

My Leith friends swear by the Herald..maybe its that Leith/West Coast Scotland connection..

The Guardian is the only UK paper worth considering, and I usually do not get off the fence over these things.Even Americans swear by it. Just hope it won't succumb to tabloid consciousness like Channel 4 these days. Wasn't that "Real Vampire Chronicles" programme last night about the Fauldhouse murderer the most appalling piece of journalism and cash in?
The Da Vinci Cod...spectacularly good typo!!!

Entirely intentional, although I don't know which of them came up with it.

that "Real Vampire Chronicles" programme

Didn't see it, I'm afraid. An easy case to get sensationalist about, though, certainly.
A parody. The title they gave to an evening of reading stories about conspiracy theories.
Another past event appropriate to this post: "BLOOD DONER KEBAB" :)

Generally Big Wilson just plucks these things out of the ether. Dr Calamari was me though.

Yes, the layout's not quite as good, but I do admire their use of cover stories for worthwhile campaigns.
Well done on the giving blood. I wish I could but I can't because of the medication I'm taking. Oh wait, I've changed meds. Hmm, maybe I can give blood now. Must check it out. Maybe tomorrow.