Listing to Port

I wouldn't sail this ship if I were you
Posts tagged lists

Seven things from history that can be used to prop up a wobbly table leg

1. The original sandwich, as requested by John Montagu, fourth Earl of Sandwich, to eat whilst playing cards. It is unknown whether he ever needed to prop up his card table but, had he needed to, I think we can all agree that a sandwich would be one option for doing so.
2. The beard of Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. May need to be folded over a little, depending on how wobbly your table is. If Rasputin is still attached, you might need to stop him moving somehow. For these reasons, we cannot fully recommend this option.
3. The US Declaration of Independence. May also need a bit of folding.
4. Lady Gaga’s meat dress. If you are eating near cats or dogs, this may be a bad option. However, having a table wedge that is a bit squishy may be of use if you are on a cobbled or otherwise lumpy surface.
5. The original woodblock for Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa. Suitable only if your table is really wobbly: for example if one of the legs has broken off, or you are trying to set it up on extremely uneven ground.
6. The dead sea scrolls. You may need to stack fragments to get a suitable height. However, the large number of fragments available means that you should be able to pad your table leg to a high degree of precision, if needed.
7. The subcritical plutonium mass commonly known as the Demon Core. Obviously this does make actually using  your table a little hazardous, not to mention the difficulties involved in wedging the thing under the leg in the first place. But on the plus side, nobody is likely to approach your table to tip it over.

Six times of day

1. 5:55. This is Snake Minute. A great time for lying down, wriggling about and hissing a bit, particularly if it is the morning version of 5:55 and you’d rather not get up.
2. 7:45. In this minute we take pause to gently snuggle, remembering the great coffees of days past as we offer up tribute to temporary wakefulness in the form of today’s coffee.
3. 10:13. Wistful wanderlust minute. Did you know the light here is just like the light that one time in Venice?
4. 4:04:00. This is the second of the slightly wonky upside-down detective. We celebrate this second by standing on our heads and saying ‘Ohoh!’ in a way that vaguely indicates that a disguise has been seen through or a clue has been found.
5. 5:37:30-5:38. Rage against the oppressions of the modern neoliberal regime thirty seconds. There you are, let it all out. Now. As you were.
6. 10:10:10 - 10:11. Fish face fifty seconds. Time to go to the toilet and secretively gurn in the mirror for a brief interval. Due to the limited supply of toilets, it may not be possible for everyone to celebrate this at once.

Names for racing snails

Splorge McWhizz, the Great Shelltastic, Slimageddon, Woo Ripperton, the Spiral Tempest, Brun Brum Snailatum, Hidden Legs, Crawly McCrawlface, the Knight of the Single Foot, Tarquin Arquebus the Third, Snizzer, Scourge of the Marigolds, Slimes-at-night, Starry-trail, Slow-but-steady, Squirmatron, Salt-in-my-wake, Freda, Go-bob, Shilly-shelly, Snaaaaaaaail.

Sunday chain #20

1. She turned up at my door the first time the summer I turned eighteen. She was maybe thirty, then. Hi, she said. I’ve just discovered time travel. I thought you’d like to know. I’m sorry, I said, who are you? I’m you, she said. And before I could close the door she started telling my secrets back at me until I relented and let her in. Then she showed me all my birthmarks too.  That summer I learned three things from her. The first was the secrets of time travel, which she said I would need for this meeting to happen. They made no sense to me, but she talked me through the things I would need to learn to understand them. The second thing was that she said she’d talked to some older versions of herself, too. The oldest, she said, had asked her to teach me to sew. So we sat on my back porch and sewed dresses for my baby cousin. And the third thing was that she told me how to masturbate, because she said otherwise I’d carry on getting it wrong until my mid-twenties at least.
2. The second time I saw my future self was when I was living with Adrian in the flat up in Alewife, in my second year at MIT. She was a little older this time. She said that she had missed out some information at the first meeting that I might need. Then she told me where I should apply for my PhD and the questions I should be investigating, and for good measure the main conclusions I would come to as well. She gave me the names of some external examiners I would need to veto to get it accepted. This time I had given some thought to the paradoxes involved. I asked her if it was OK to be so profligate with information about the future. She said time was like a thread: if you had hold of two points in the thread, the only tangles that can form in between are ones that will pop out when pulled on. She was one point, I was another.
3. Near the end of my PhD she came again. This time she was older still. She seemed quiet and sombre. I was quiet with her too. It was a difficult time in my life. I was not happy, and I had been working all hours to try and forget that I was not happy. I was about to break up with Charlie. She said there were a few more things I might need to know. But she was rambling, incoherent: most of the things she told me were nothing to do with my studies. She told me about the people and the politics of the future, on and on until I asked her to stop, uncomfortable with knowing too much.
4. In the autumn of that year I moved out of the flat Charlie and I shared, and the college counselor talked me out of a suicide attempt. I spent a lot of time talking to doctors. I told them, finally, that I was unhappy in my body. It was perhaps the first time I had admitted this to myself, too. They said there were ways round that; that I could take hormones, have surgery if I wanted. But I had seen this body grow old unchanged. I tried to put it from my mind.
5. In the winter she came again. She told me that I was close to going back in time for the first time. She was old. My future selves had mentioned no visits after this. I could believe that she was near death. And so I did not have the heart to interrupt her this time. She took me out for ice cream and talked for hours. Nothing of consequence, I thought. Just lottery numbers and stock options and the outcomes of elections, thirty, forty years of these things. Then she said that she had to go soon. Teach her to sew, she said. And you - you continue with your work. Because you don’t have to live a life you’ll regret.
6. I went back to that long-lost summer. I spent the days sewing with my younger self, sitting in the dusty, sunlit porch. I spent my nights with books and equations. I thought of knots, of time as a thread. And one day I got one of those knots, the ones I had told myself about. Un-knots out of nowhere. Knots that thread ties itself in even when you have both ends in hand, and that untie themselves as easily. Except sometimes there is some friction in the system, enough that you can pull and pull all you want and the thread will snap rather than unknot itself. I realised then. She had probably been planning it for years. Maybe she wouldn’t admit it to herself either. Tangling and tightening the thread. Telling me more and more about the future. Twisting the knot of things-to-come so tight that at some point it would break, sloughing off the useless loop of a regretted future, leaving only a ravelled end.
7. I have begin, with cautious joy, to take the hormones. Surgery in a year or two, if the knot has not snapped by then. I am twisting it tight from the other end, now. And what then? She clearly believed there was a way onwards. She believed I would find it. So I am looking.  

Eight findings from an archaeological dig at Heathrow, 20756

1. The most notable feature of the site is the two long parade grounds, one at each side. The parallel layout suggests linked ceremonies may have been carried out on both simultaneously (Cooper and Carlos, 20758). A series of smaller pathways connect these parade grounds with the central site and various satellite locations.
2. There are five temples in the complex, with internal structures of varying sizes and complexity. Three temples are clustered in the central site, surrounding a small central plaza whose purpose is still unknown. The largest of the temples lies at the western extremity of the site. Another temple lies to the South of the parade grounds.
3. A large number of other buildings, probably fulfilling administrative and support functions for the large influx of pilgrims, existed on and near the site. Most of these have not yet been fully excavated. Various grant applications are in place to further investigate, following the full lifting of the exclusion zone.  
4. One notable feature of the temples is the existence of tunnel systems, often lined with metal or plastic rollers. These systems are too small for straightforward human ingress and a number of theories have been advanced as to their function. Some have argued that their main function was to vent smoke from sacrificial fires (Kent et al., 20756). Others have suggested they may be tunnels the hasten the passage of spirits through the building, possibly as part of a burial function (Khan and Spengler, 20757).
5. Underground tunnels connect the three temple areas of the site. This tunnel system also extends to the North-East beyond the site boundary towards the Central London exclusion zone. These underground tunnels are substantial structures, circular in cross-section and with a diameter of over three metres. It has been hypothesised (Cheng and Lee, 20760) that they were the primary point of entry of pilgrims to the site.
6. The most iconic feature of the site, and one which has recieved wide media attention, is the hundreds of giant bird idols which have been unearthed. The resources these long-lost peoples must have poured into the bird cult are truly impressive: the largest idols found are nearly 80 metres long, with a similar wingspan. All are mounted on wheels, suggesting that they were not fixed installations but could be towed to different parts of the site. Some (Windsor and Khan, 20756) have suggested that they may have been hauled along the parade grounds to celebrate feast days.
7. The existence of large dormitory systems as part of the nearby support structures suggests the site may have supported a large slave population, possibly engaged to move the idols around the site.
8. The most recent discovery concerning the site is perhaps the most exciting. A close study of the few extant documents from the late 21st century, just before the site’s desertion, finds numerous references to ‘flying’. We therefore propose that the bird idol cult may also have made use of ritual intoxicants. As has been widely reported, the bird idols are hollow and contain, in some cases, many hundreds of seats. Could these people, so distant from our modern lives, have gathered inside their idols to engage in mass hallucinations in the name of bird worship?

Friday categorization #18

7010 Sleep
 -7010.1 Restful, restorative and refreshing
    –7010.11 Those that one sinks blissfully into, cradled in soft eiderdown, for eight or more hours, waking into golden morning sunlight to the smell of coffee and the knowledge that an exciting project awaits
       —7010.111 Those that would be like that but for the need to get up and pee
       —7010.112 Those that would be like that if it were not for the cat
          —-7010.1121 Those where the cat is thinking a cattish version of exactly the same thing, with ‘human’ substituted
    –7010.12 Sleep after exhausting physical work
       —7010.121 That sleep which leaps gloriously upon you following a day walking in Scottish hills
    –7010.13 Lazy afternoon naps
 -7010.2 Uneasy or troubled
    –7010.21 Sleep containing more than the standard quota of bad dreams
    –7010.22 The outcome of a battle between coffee and sleep, temporarily won by sleep
    –7010.23 Sleep on a hundred mattresses with a pea underneath
    –7010.24 Sleep on a hundred mattresses with a pee underneath
    –7010.25 That sleep that your consciousness is trying to slip into like a clogged-up drain, thick with trapped and flailing thoughts
    –7010.26 Feverish sleep
 -7010.3 Interrupted
    –7010.31 Sleep of unusually short duration
       —7010.311 That sleep that gently slips over you in a warm lecture theatre or meeting room, shortly after eating lunch
    –7010.32 Sleep in the vicinity of a baby
       —7010.321 Sleep repeatedly interrupted by a baby who has just turned one and is decidedly too old for this shit
       —7010.322 On the night before work which requires use of the brain
    –7010.33 Sleep whose sudden curtailment has revealed splendid dreams not yet forgotten
    –7010.34 Sleep before catching an early flight
 -7010.4 Mystical, enchanted or otherwise unusual
    –7010.41 Sleeps of a hundred years
       —7010.411 Those occasioned by a malign fairy
       —7010.412 Those having to do with time dilation
       —7010.413 Those resulting from being mystically knackered
       —7010.414 Sleeps for which all of the above factors are relevant
    –7010.42 Sleeps of a year or so
       —7010.42 Those occasioned by a moderately lazy fairy who just wants a lie in
    –7010.43 Those accessing the same dream, a little further each time

Seven geopolitical scenarios

1. Brexit: in which Britain leaves the European Union.
2. Grexit: in which Greece leaves the European Union.
3. Glitter: in which Greece leaves the European Union whilst peevishly dumping all EU-related documents into the Aegean for Turkey to clean up.
4. Bribeary: in which a scheme to reintroduce the black bear to limited regions of Britain and Ireland is beset by systemic corruption related to payments to farmers intended to compensate for the inconvenience and peril of hosting a bear, with the result that both islands are overrun by farmed bear cubs.
5. UNIcorn: In which Uganda, Nigeria and Cote d'Ivoire undergo a combined agricultural and sexual revolution.
6. BALLSup: In which Belarus, Azerbaijan, Latvia, Lithuania and Sweden are struck by a series of unusually precise earthquakes, possibly the belated result of a secret Soviet geoengineering project involving millions of extremely slow mechanical moles, which has the end result of raising those counties approximately ten metres above their previous elevation.
7. BUMSout: In which Botswana, Uganda, Mozabique and South Africa exit the African Union in order to found a separate Southern African Union.

Eight planets you should definitely not make landfall on

1. That one planet where the inhabitants are really keen to indicate their respect and tolerance for humans by inviting them to be honoured guests in their toileting rituals and sometimes the humans even get to hold the chalice
2. That planet where they eat purple and after you come back from it you can never quite stop the purple things you own from fading to a sort of dull blue
3. That planet where the entire surface is an amazing eighty-five hour party metropolis lit by seventy thousand neon artificial suns and beings from across the Universe will give you massive and occasionally slimy hugs and tell you their life stories and shout about their feelings while doing karaoke and there is basically one small space for introverts which is a bit like a concrete bus shelter and sometimes it’s full of yelling alien clowns who have mistaken it for the queue for the toilets
4. That planet where they’re really polite and reserved about it but you can’t help but notice that they think that human hair is delicious
5. That planet which is supposed to be a thrillingly dangerous free zone for the renegades, criminals and dubious iconoclasts of the Universe to congregate, but in actual fact has gentrified a lot recently and the bars are kind of dull and have you seen what a drink costs there now
6. That planet where they communicate using a vibrational language, which results in human visitors occasionally having uncomfortable and embarrassing orgasms when the inhabitants are shout, sing or cry
7. That planet where the aliens are amazingly enthusiastic to hear tales of the planet earth, which they then recycle as the plotlines for badly-acted daytime television soap operas, and you get credit but no royalties and as a result you can expect to get critical mail from elderly aliens for the rest of your life
8. That planet where humans are totally welcome apart from the oxygen they need to breathe being a fire hazard, requiring a full risk assessment, forms in triplicate and an innovative protective suit that it’s nearly impossible to walk in
9. That planet where the aliens have it as a point of honour that they their human guests should be happy at all times, and they keep on asking you if you are happy, and if you’re not happy and it’s not for a reason they can fix then they get so anxious and grumpy that sometimes they start shedding tail spines and so you end up walking back to the spaceport with a fixed grin on your face saying how amazing the acid thunderstorms are

Three definitions

1. Starling, n.: An inhabitant of the stars; an alien.
2. Badger, n.: A person who puts badges on things.
3. Humanitarian, n.: A person who subsists only on human flesh.

Nine questions to ask to determine which timeline you are in, central London version

Ideally, you should find the nearest tourist information facility, where clueless questions are less likely to cause alarm. Note: these questions cover nearly all known timeline families. However, many other rarely-encountered timelines exist. Always be alert for unexpected answers!

Q1. Is there anything on in Richard IV Square tonight?
A1. Yes (or No): probably timelines 1-5: Go to Q2.
A1. Never heard of it: probably timelines 6-12. Go to Q3.
A1. Reply is in French: probably timeline 13.
A1. Reply is unintelligible or in another language: probably timelines 14-16. Go to Q4.
A1. Respondent tries to eat your head: probably timeline 17. Immediate evacuation recommended.

Q2. Are there any plays on on Sunday by Francis Eaton?
A2. Yes (or No, but other plays are available): Probably timelines 1 or 2. Go to Q5.
A2. No, there are no plays at all on Sundays: Probably timeline 3. Best to look sheepish and bow your head, unless you want to get arrested.
A2. Never heard of him: probably timelines 4 or 5. Go to Q6.

Q3. How do I get to the Monument?
A1. Never heard of it: probably timelines 6 or 7. Go to Q7.  
A2. [Directions given]: follow directions. If the monument is:
       a monument to the great fire of London: probably timelines 8 or 9. Go to Q8
       a monument to the victims of the great plague: probably timelines 10 or 11. Go to Q9
       a monument to the fire from the sky: probably timeline 12. Have a beer. Timeline 12 has easily the best beer.

Q4. [Mime eating and drinking something]
A4. [Respondent points in some direction or other]: Probably timeline 14.
A4. [Respondent points to watch or clock and shakes head]: Probably timeline 15.
A4. [Respondent looks around, then offers you a swig from a bottle behind the counter]: Probably timeline 16. Unless contraindicated, accept the drink. You’ll need it.

Q5. What are the opening hours of Sanderson’s Bath Engine and Revelatory Emporium?
A5. [Gives some hours, or don’t know]: Probably timeline 1.
A5. Never heard of it: Probably timeline 2.

Q6. Is there anywhere I can take my capybara for a run around?
A6. Yes, there’s a dedicated capybara run in Hyde Park. Probably timeline 4.
A6. I’m sorry, you have a what? or similar answer. Probably timeline 5. Pretend this was a mistranslation and you meant dog.

Q7. Observe the passers-by on the street for five minutes. Is anyone wearing green top hats with gilding/gold braid?
A7. No, or perhaps one or two only: probably timeline 6.
A8. Yes, lots of people (male and female): probably timeline 7. Note that you should try and steal one of these hats as soon as possible.

Q8. Ask for directions to Paternoster Row.
A8. [Directions given]: Probably timeline 8.
A8. Did you mean Paternoster Square? or similar. Probably timeline 9. This is my home timeline. It’s not too bad, as they go.

Q9. Where might I find a light for the hospital of the blind?
A9. What?/Don’t understand/etc.: probably timeline 10.
A9. One of: gives directions, hands you a face mask, or complicated handshake: one of the timeline 11 family. These are sufficiently similar that you can use the same guidelines for all of them. Consult your timelines handbook for more information.

More Information