Skip to main content
Waach the Ball

Autumn has made a temporary return today. A change on yesterday, which was almost summer-like.

I invented a new type of triathlon yesterday afternoon. Cycle cross country twelve miles, fly for thirty minutes, cycle back twelve miles and then kayak across the bay and collapse in a heap. Consequently, I ache this morning.



From my point of view, the sea still demands the comfort of a wetsuit and I very much doubt that the water temperature will now rise sufficiently to risk leaving my neoprene layer at home. July has now been so bad that I would be surprised if August recovers and one of the farmers I know was complaining that his crops have been ruined.

Tomorrow, I’ve been invited to meet Theresa May and Leader of the Opposition, Michael Howard at a round table at Conservative Central Office. This means taking the train up to London, with the normal one in three chance of arriving at Victoria in time.

Friday, I’m taking the day off with a friend and we’ll fly over to France for the day to pick up some wine. There’s an outside chance of good weather and last Sunday, I managed to cram in some very useful and much-needed instrument practise on a Cessna 172 over to Beccles in Norfolk and back. Heads down all the way, to five hundred feet above the runway, both there and back, with no view of the world outside. It’s a desperately tiring exercise, particularly when it’s bumpy, one’s attention riveted on the artificial horizon and never leaving it for more than five seconds to do something else. The strangest thing, I described to my companion on the relatively long flight, is when every sense screams that the aircraft is banking left or right and in fact it’s not. Overcoming the urge to ignore the instruments is very hard but that’s what instrument flying is all about, only believe what the technology is telling you if you wish to stay alive. It’s a pity the same rule doesn’t quite apply to the world of personal computing.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mainframe to Mobile

Not one of us has a clue what the world will look like in five years’ time, yet we are all preparing for that future – As  computing power has become embedded in everything from our cars and our telephones to our financial markets, technological complexity has eclipsed our ability to comprehend it’s bigger picture impact on the shape of tomorrow.

Our intuition has been formed by a set of experiences and ideas about how things worked during a time when changes were incremental and somewhat predictable. In March 1953. there were only 53 kilobytes of high-speed RAM on the entire planet.

Today, more than 80 per cent of the value of FTSE 500* firms is ‘now dark matter’: the intangible secret recipe of success; the physical stuff companies own and their wages bill accounts for less than 20 per cent: a reversal of the pattern that once prevailed in the 1970s. Very soon, Everything at scale in this world will be managed by algorithms and data and there’s a need for effective platforms for ma…
A Christmas Tale

It’s pitch blackness in places along the sea wall this evening and I'm momentarily startled by a small dog with orange flashing yuletide antlers along the way. I’m the only person crazy enough to be running and I know the route well enough to negotiate it in the dark, part of my Christmas exercise regime and a good way of relieving stress.

Why stress you might ask. After all, it is Christmas Day.

True but I’ve just spent over two hours assembling the giant Playmobil ‘Pony Farm’ set when most other fathers should be asleep in front of the television.



I was warned that the Playmobil ‘Pirate Ship’ had driven some fathers to drink or suicide and now I understand why. If your eyesight isn’t perfect or if you’ve had a few drinks with your Christmas lunch then it’s a challenge best left until Boxing day but not an option if you happen to have a nine year old daughter who wants it ready to take horses by tea time.

Perhaps I should stick to technology but then, the instruc…

An Ockham of Gatwick

The 13th century theologian and philosopher, William of Ockham, who once lived in his small Surrey village, not so very far from what is today, the wide concrete expanse of Gatwick airport is a frequently referenced source of intellectual reason. His contribution to modern culture was Ockham’s Razor, which cautions us when problem solving, that “The explanation requiring the fewest assumptions is most likely to be correct;” sound advice which constantly proves to be true.

A week further-on since Britain’s second busiest airport was bought to a complete standstill by two or perhaps two hundred different drone sightings, it is perhaps time to revisit William of Ockham’s maxim, rather than be led astray by an increasingly bizarre narrative, one which has led Surrey police up several blind alleys with little or nothing in the way of measurable results.

 Exploring the possibilities with a little help in reasoning from our medieval friar, we appear to have a choice of two different account…