I’ve been busy improving the code behind this site. Modifications include:
- Improved archive. Until now, most of my posts have been stored in Blogger outputted archives. I’ve now imported these posts into the MySQL database in order for the archive to be consistently formatted.
- Even more human-friendly URLs. You can modify the URL to go directly to a monthly archive, for example 2002/june/. The old URLs still work.
- Date headers: Influenced by the likes of t-melt and Daring Fireball, i’ve added right-aligned date headers to each days posts.
I think there are plenty of bugs to iron out, so if you spot anything, let me know.
The New Forest in Hampshire is just the sort of place in which, if told that big cats were living there, you would believe it. There are large expanses of heathland, teeming with deer, horses and – for a light snack – rabbit; then, of course, there is the cover of the dense forest to slope off to at night. In the particular part of The New Forest in which we were staying, a number of events have occured in the past which could provide evidence for big cats being there:
- Fred the tabby (to whom the Friskies belonged), was so scared by something that he ran, shrieking up the willow tree. Now I know that cats do this on a regular basis just for kicks, but not Fred; Fred was hard as nails and unshakable (or probably just lazy). Plus he was approaching the grand old cat-age of twenty, so something must have really freaked him out for him to behave in such a way
- A large, cat-like paw print found on a muddy bank underneith a road bridge.
- Something large and with a long tail was seen in a nearby tree at the edge of the forest, although due to being slightly alarmed, the witness didn’t stick around for long enough to see exactly what it was.
I’m pretty open minded about the possibility of them being there, although I find it hard to believe that they are successfully breeding without more people spotting and photographing them.
Yesterday I did something that, during my twenty-six years, I have never done.
I ate a tomato.
I don’t mean I ate a bit of a tomato, as I would normally tolerate in a sandwich hidden amongst other ingredients; I mean ate a whole tomato, as you would a peach or a nectarine. I’ve spent my life avoiding doing this; tomatoes were always third on the list of definite no-nos right behind sprouts and cauliflower. At least sprouts and cauliflower have the decency to look as unappealing as they taste; as for tomatoes, their red juiciness belies a viscious sour core that makes my stomach churn.
So how did I manage to eat one, whole and without wincing? Cherry Tomatoes. Cherry tomatoes are like a condensed tomato, with the sourness turned to zero and the sweetness turned to seven. After a careful weening stage of a couple of years, I’ve reached the stage now where I can’t make a sandwich without them. Now, I’m a fully fledged tomato eater, although admittedly the one I ate yesterday was of particularly high standard and free of the inner green gunk I usually associate with tomatoes.
And with this revelation, I’m off on my summer holidays, so don’t expect any posts for a while.
Animals really do put humans to shame when it comes to doing incredible tricks. See if you can spot the Octopus in this video (MPEG 1MB) [via Mefi]
A couple of interesting web standards related items today:
“A tortoise challenges Achilles, the swift Greek warrior, to a race, gets a 10m head start, and says Achilles can never pass him. When Achilles has run 10m, the tortoise has moved a further metre. When Achilles has covered that metre, the tortoise has moved 10cm…and so on. It is impossible for Achilles to pass him. The paradox is that in reality, Achilles would easily do so.”
I think my brain just imploded. Anyway, a young physicist in New Zealand has solved this paradox and in doing so has made some ground-breaking discoveries in our understanding of time. [via Rik]
So who’s got a new Typepad then? Ping http://www.ballofstringtheory.com/tb.cgi/260
I haven’t tried it out yet, but from what I gather, it’s the ultimate blogging tool.
It’s typical of the overall shambles known as the British rail network that it gets disrupted when the weather is good, as well as when it’s wintery and the autumn leaves have fallen. When the French TGV is hurtling at 200 mph towards Marseille in temperatures exceeding 100F, I’m not sure that heat stressed track is much of an issue.
So it seems that in Britain, birthplace of the Industrial Revolution and home of rail travel itself, the track on which our trains travel is sub-standard and prone to buckling under the sun. How the mighty have fallen.