I’m really getting into using PersonalBrain, the newly launched version of a decade-old program that should have swept the world by now. But there’s a downside to relying on one piece of software so much: When it goes wrong, you’re adrift. Luckily the guys at PersonalBrain are looking into it, but I had to stop using mine about 24 hours ago when I noticed weird things happening. My brain is now on their operating table and I’m praying I’ll get it back soon because I just have no appetite to do anything meaningful without it. PersonalBrain fills that hole I’ve often felt existed between having
Nothing to do with technology this, but it is to do with racism, multiculturalism, and my old country, Britain. A recent piece by Carol Gould of FrontPage magazine: The First Step to Britishness Is Your Poppy The poppy is a symbol of the terrible loss of life in World War I in the fields of Flanders, where these blood-red flowers sprouted above the acres of corpses of fallen soldiers. As the decades have passed, the poppy has been worn to show one’s respect for the millions who have died in successive conflicts as recent as Iraq and Afghanistan. On British television, every presenter and anchor
Alongside yesterday’s BBC Online’s piece on the growing number of men having plastic surgery (New face, new confidence) was spotted the following: Is that what’s really going on there? Plastic surgery?
Back in the late 1980s there was this very eccentric English doctor in a Southeast Asian capital I used to visit who clearly based most of his diagnoses and treatment on whatever he had read in The Lancet that week. There were piles of old copies lying around his surgery, many lying open at certain pages, or with the corners folded over, or bookmarked with old prescriptions. The city being what it was, he was probably an expert on sexually transmitted diseases but not much else; I was fortunate enough not to have to visit him with any such complaint, but when I had a knee