Oddly reminiscent of the English cricket teams' batting tactics of late.

I view all of this as illustrative of just how broken the core mechanics of UK parliamentary democracy are.

it's tech debt on social infrastructure, at an international scale.

Everyone is inexorably committed to delivering a shockingly unhelpful result, because at every inflection point, the key players are incentivised to take a long term, broader hit to avoid a shorter term, more personal catastrophe.

A grotty aspect of this posturing is that cynically, this is the best domestic signalling for an expected catastrophic exit- if you expect a wretched state for many administrative terms after , then you may as well start prepping the electorate for the story of being short-changed with the 'wrong brexit' , all down to EU sabotage. I would expect that to play very successfully at the polls.

I'm on the fence as to whether I think the UK govt actually has the competence to ride this spin.

Ah, they've reached the 'blame the EU for not agreeing to our prescription of changes to their core infrastructure that we're in the process of quitting' phase.

aka - brexit isn't working and it's the EU's fault.


What if the dehumanizing toxicity inherent in our software platforms was directly related to all that 'programmers are special minds who need magical concentration spaces and you shouldn't talk to them and meetings are bad' bunk though?

I fell madly in love with a particular question mark.

Finally watched Hard Eight, after meaning to for nearly twenty years!

It's pretty good. One of those things I file under 'simultaneously overlooked and overrated'

I am pointlessly enraged by those t-shirts that say 'There's no place like'

This joke barely works on any levels. There is no such saying as "There's no place like localhost". Nor even "There's no place like loopback"

It's a super-weak in-joke, and it's correct form should at least be "There's no place like ~/" , which would still not manage to be funny, but would at least evaluate to the intended sentence.

Further musing about intent transmission on microblogs, and context rot.

The author has scant control over the framing of their post for the reader. Aside from the rare case of reading a user timeline, the post will be juxtaposed with each readers own timeline as an interjection into a coversational thread they aren't actually within.

A comment about something current is more likely to read as interrelated to other posts the author maybe never saw.

Algorithmic timelines compound this.

And that's the end of the cricket, and a stylish finish from Anderson.

That was quite the test match.

Well done to Alastair Cook on that century.

Quit while you're ahead if you can.

Today's wild goose extravaganza, the pure lisp crypto library that a caching system I am relying on uses for trivial hashing fails to build on the ARM platform I am hosting it on, because apparently I make a virtue out of choosing obtuse dependencies.

I have to add an extra thirty minutes to the morning dog walk time if I come back through the town in the daytime, because of Snoop D's fanbase, we have to do so many meet-and-greets

One of those days where I can see all the dirt, and the cracks and the disorder, and it irritates

Nothing's changed, brains are strange.

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