Farting around

Impressed

We all dread having to deal with Home Affairs — replacing an Identity Document or renewing a passport is seen as a schlepp.

But I had to do it, so I got there this morning at 07:41 (wanted to be there at 07:30 when they open, but traffic), got ticket #26.

Yes, they have a system where you get a ticket, which is logged on the system, and then they call you to the correct desk. Which means that one desk can be serving number 6, the other desk number 36, while you, number 26, are sitting reading your kindle (Shiver on the Sky, BTW, and I think it jumped the shark halfway through so I stopped reading it).

It also means that the fellow you need to see deals with number 6, 11, 24 and then 26, because all the other numbers are waiting in a different virtual queue.

I was out there by 08:30. Impressive.

I shall have to stop calling them “Infernal Affairs” now.

(My new drivers’ licence application at Fish Hoek traffic department was equally painless)

New tails

Two much anticipated additions to the household. Currently known as “the black one” and “the shy one”.

Proposed names have been Pip and Squeek (but that would probably need to change to Heffa and Lump if they’re anything like the other male cat in the house), Westley and Vizzini, Scylla and Charybdis — but these ones definitely don’t come when you call them so what’s the use.

Brainworm

It bothered me all night.

Hazmat Modine‘s Bahamut (featured as an instrumental on So you think you can dance) sounds like something I’ve heard before… but what.

And the answer is… 50 Cent’s P.I.M.P.

It also reminds me of Clare Fader’s Cabin Fever and there’s some Tom Waits-like bits in there as well. That’s expected. But 50 Cent? Wow.

Curator Needed, Part Four…

To follow up on Tamara‘s Curator Needed, Part III…

Aside: I still have to tell all of y’all (both of you) about the teardrop trailer I built and then dragged up to Etosha for the school holidays. But that’s not important right now.

Just north of Windhoek there’s a little town (most towns in Namibia are little, and there are not so many towns either) called Okahandja, and there we passed a military museum. I was kind of sad that we didn’t have time to visit.

But after checking out their web page, I’ve changed my mind.

Some gems include:

“DFSH 41: The gun is made out of brown wood and black metal. It has openings at the end of it, where bullots will come out when it is used.”

“60MM Mortal: Its made out of metal, plastic and leather and its green in colour. It has a metal object fixed on it, where it can stand.”

Yes, thank you. I go to museums to glean these arcane and obscure bits of inside knowledge, carefully researched and tastefully presented to discerning visitors from distant climes.

Situation normal…

(Scene: Tanya is away for a couple of days for some sort of a conference thing)

Cellphone: <ring> <ring>

Wouter: “ello”

Tanya: “Where are you?” (I detect a bit of panic)

W: “I’m at home, but I havn’t seen the kids all day”

T: “I just spoke to Jessica, they don’t know where you are, they’re starving, and Tamsyn hasn’t showered for two days”

(We’d just finished a supper of roast beef and veggies, with mash and gravy, and between the two of them they pretty much polished an Ina Paarman cheese sauce).

Gotta love this family. Or go completely insane. I’ve been quietly chuckling to myself for the last half an hour. *twitch*

The Death of the Book

We live in a truly amazing time.

Not that long ago, one had to really search to find books, enlist the help of librarians or book shops to order books which were not available locally, or just plain make a note for a future date when you maybe spot the book you’re after in a second-hand bookstore.

Then came the internet and Amazon, and pretty much everything in print can be ordered and shipped halfway across the world.

And then came the iPads and Kindles, and the same books can be downloaded straight from Amazon.

Or bought all over the place — Baen is my favourite. Alliteration Ink is also interesting.

Or downloaded for free from Classicly and from the authors themselves.

Which is why the New York Times article on The Death of the Book Through the Ages is interesting.

Seriously?

It’s not as sinister as it looks. Dealer sorted out the problem in one day.

But I thought it might cue discussions of the “Now we know why people don’t talk about Glocks giving trouble” type.