The Open University provideth

There are not many Brits I revere more than Michael Young. Well, maybe the two Matt Biancos, but that’s a different kettle of fish, as they weren’t responsible for the founding of the Consumers’ Assocation (these days ‘Which’) or the Open University. I have been a devoted OU student for many years now, and I will hopefully be for another few. This year my third alma mater sent me to Bath University to participate in my course’s summer residential school. A full week of lectures and experimental work they do stretch their days quite long: you start at 9 and finish at 21:00. And then they expect you to take part in fun and shenanigans until midnight. How the course staff manages this for 4 full weeks I have no idea, as I am already knackered after day one. To get to Bath, these days one has to drive through 4 hours of torrential rain (if I ever meet a climate change denier I will make him walk through one of these floods and then let him explain to me why we suddenly have Monsoon rain in the UK).

Bath University itsself has all the charms of Basildon before it was beautified…


But this is nothing compared to their undergraduate accomodation:

My first impression was ‘solitary imprisonment in high security location’ but apparently this is standard accomodation for undergraduates around here. Oh dear. Anyway, it looks like I’m not going to spend a lot of time in there (communal showers with the other lads, btw. I feel like I have been inserted into a mid eighties American teenage comedy. Or a Kim Stanley Robinson novel.  Next thing there will be towel fights).

Tutorial staff is excellent and highly motivated (certainly a difference to my first Uni) and my fellow students are all as keen as a bunch of Labrador puppies facing their first ball shaped object. So, while the actual topic is as tedious as a flock of German civil servants working for the federal agency for tediousness in Tediousbrough, TL (Tediousland), the experience is actually quite fun.

And tomorrow I’ll be able to psychometrically test 100 unsuspecting students.

Mwuahahahahahahahaaaa (I worked on the laugh).

Signing off,

Fordiebianco

Raspberry Pi Day

The little joy has finally arrived, and while it is an absolute delight, there are some caveats. HDMI doesn’t seem to work out of the box (firmware upgrade needed) and I had to use my TV’s compound video to start getting it going. Hence the rather creative cabling. Another problem are fancy USB peripherals: my spare USB Keyboard has loads of lights, but they overwhelm the little Pi’s power consumption, so it doesn’t work fully. Luckily SSH works without a problem, so I can use my Macbook’s terminal to set it up. But these little glitches don’t really matter. Most importantly, it works, and only costs 30 quid. How cool is that?

 

Dear Sony

I know you are currently in terminal decline, and I will only hold you up for a minute. I used to be a proud owner of innumerable Sony Walkmen, Discmen, MD Players, Mobile Phones and even a PS3, and now I own one of your TVs, the magnificently named KDL-32cx523 (I am sure you’re paying the guy coming up with the names for your stuff loads of money). You know what, terminal decline yes or no, I really like it. It wasn’t particularly expensive, it’s not ugly, it has a beautiful picture, works really well with the internet and my home network and makes the best girlfriend happy because she can watch her favourite crime dramas on BBC in HD on it. So far, so good. There are just 2 little niggles.

a) do you really think I would spend eighty pounds for a Sony labelled USB web camera worth 2 pence so I can Skype in front of the TV?

b) your HD recording feature is magnificent, but have you ever thought about that no one in their right mind formats their hard disk in FAT32 anymore? If you insist that an external HD is to be formatted in ancient file format, then PLEASE, FOR PETE’S SAKE, TELL ME IN YOUR BLOODY MANUAL AND DON’T LET ME SCOUR THE INTERNET FOR HOURS!

Best wishes,

Fordiebianco

P.S. May your share price equal the Royal Bank of Scotland’s.

The BBS Documentary

A long, long time ago, in a decade far away…

….I had a series of micro computers (ZX 81, Spectrum, QL, Amiga 500, Amiga 2000), and because of these, human interaction was at times less important for me than the other kids. But somehow you wanted to be in contact with other users, nerds, anorak and geeks, and so I had to buy one of those:

This is what us geeks call an ‘acoustic coupler’. This chunky device would convert the bits and bytes that you wanted to transfer over the phonelines into a very particular noise that would very soon became the acoustic promise of excitement, entertainment and the world of unlimited geekyness. What you would is dial the number of a ‘Bulletin Board System’ (BBS), wait for the ‘free’ tone on the other side and plunge the handset onto the coupler and watch in amazement on your computer screen how a connection would between the two machines would be established and the welcome screen of your favourite BBS would appear. Something like this:

Of course my mate Sven had to have one of those, and a few years later I was able to get one as well, and I finally added myself to the, er, cool kids (ok, young men without a girlfriend) that would meet online and in real life. The Tuborg Box Cologne was my favourite hangout, and there are many legends around these user meets that I will not repeat.

Anyway, a chap who happens to hang around one of my favourite websites made a 5 hour documentary about BBSs, their inventors and their users. Absolutely brilliant stuff if you can tolerate a few rather awkward individuals sprinkled into the mix, but the stories are fascinating, the personalities enormous and the geek factor 11 out of ten.

Have a look at the trailer and go buy the thing.

Have fun.