Benazir Bhutto, Prime Minister of Pakistan, 1988-90 and 1993-96, was born on June 21, 1953. She died of injuries sustained in an attack by a suicide bomber on December 27, 2007, aged 54.
Benazir Bhutto, Prime Minister of Pakistan, 1988-90 and 1993-96, was born on June 21, 1953. She died of injuries sustained in an attack by a suicide bomber on December 27, 2007, aged 54.
“Here is the first crucial thing: the screen does work. By “work”, I mean that the words stand out clearly without shimmering, and that you can certainly read it outside, in dappled light and direct sunlight, as you would not be able to read a normal computer screen. The effect is matt, not shiny, and black-and-white, not colour. Well, to be precise, not black-and-white so much as dark grey characters on a light grey background, which is perhaps part of the secret. The font is modern – not elegant, but effective – and you get far fewer words to the “page” than with a traditional book, though the half-inch borders and generous spacing between paragraphs help you to read. I tried it, reading some Tolstoy and then some Conan Doyle, in the garden, slumped in a chair inside, on a sofa in a dimmish room, and in the back of a car. In each place, it was easy to read; I have spent plenty of time reading it and so far, haven’t felt any eyestrain, or no more than I would have found with a book.”
“For me, the most important moment came reading a Sherlock Holmes story when I suddenly realised I’d been following the tale for several minutes having completely forgotten about the Iliad itself.”
But he prefers books. He sees the benefit in replacing news – papery bits of ephemera:
“And yet … I can now see a way in which this, or its future rivals, could become useful to me. In our house, every day we get mounds of newsprint, much of it thrown instantly away. The stuff hangs around like intellectual scurf, and it’s depressing. For my broadcasting work, another great wodge of briefings, clippings and so on arrives, most days of the week. They pile up. Just looking at them saps the spirit. Then there are the pamphlets and instant books, the magazines and so on. The waste of time and space, as well as paper and transport, increasingly offends me. The energy cost of downloading such material and looking at it on screen is a small fraction of the energy used in printing it out on paper. Being able to download newspapers each morning, which is likely to be possible soon, or the RSS newsfeeds already available everywhere, would be a major bonus. The same goes for the work briefing. Yes, it’s another threat to traditional newspapers, since I would certainly screen out what I don’t read (fashion, sport, much of business news) ahead of time. If I can scrawl all over those bits of “paper”, making my own notes, better still.”
This is a long and somewhat involved piece about my new iRex. Despite the frustrations described below, I’m very pleased with it. In fact I was so comfortably engrossed in David Hirsh’s Anti-Zionism and Antisemitism: Cosmopolitan Reflections that I got on a Loughton train and only realised at Woodford. And it didn’t even matter because I can now read in gloves in high wind.
I took it down the Pole to show off which was dangerous because D, K, A, B and V were tanking tequila on account of it being Christmas. It took a few swipes but we survived. Sysadmin loves it – she now has me down as a pioneer with money to burn. Veg (if you are up to reading this after all you’ve been through in the past days) knowing how you feel about eInk you’d be really excited about this.
But does it go? For £435 it is absolutely imperative to make it do my bidding.
I could only find 6 pages of iLiad Settings when there were supposed to be 10 (according to the screenshot in the manual) and consequently I didn’t have an option to calibrate my stylus or configure Start-up Settings or try to get the device and laptop synchronise instead of (as currently) the device overwriting the contents of the laptop’s iRex folder.
It took me some time to twig that I had to make an iDS (iRex Delivery Service) connection which would then upgrade the software. This should be prominently signalled rather than lurking in Chapter 14 of the manual.
But I eventually did work it out, though not before leaving a ticket at iRex which wasn’t answered (it’s the Friday before Christmas) and couldn’t be cancelled.
So once I realised I had to do this it involved making an initial iDS connection. I groped my way through setting up a wireless connection in the Device Manager, and then followed the instructions to connect to iDS for the upgrade. They want you to plug into the power supply because if the connection is broken before the software is downloaded and installed then you have an unusable iRex on your hands.
Then long-clicked the Connect button top right and managed to get a wireless iDS connection and the download/upgrade went pretty smoothly after that.
The iRex then initiated another iDS connection to get some more documentation, but the network connection broke before it finished downloading something or other. Had to restart the router and then became enmeshed in trying to delete network profiles which weren’t connecting but not being able to because it said ‘click’ OK, and all I could see to do was hit OK with the stylus and that didn’t do anything… Oh, you know.
I annotated a PDF with the stylus and Pen tool and merged my scribbles using the free Companion Software.
Some of the options on the Companion Software, including Disconnect, are ghosted out. Plus the Companion Software doesn’t launch on connection – when I open it it flashes up and then disappears to the System Tray, I can go and fish it out but can’t immediately find the settings to make it foreground automatically.
Mobipocket is a free install for downloading ebooks and grabbing news feeds. You can even set up the iRex to wake itself up at a given time and download news each day. The format isn’t so pretty (Harry’s Place comments and posts mingled with each other nightmarishly, but the Guardian Technology feed wasn’t too bad) but there it is.
Also downloaded a sample of Wolves of the Crescent Moon (banned in Saudi) – which consisted of reviews and author information.
All very straightforward – except I couldn’t eject the iRex, kept saying “device busy”.
It will take a USB drive, MMC, CF cards and, unofficially, SD cards no bigger than 1Gb. Once plugged into the laptop, it behaves like another drive, and will carry – though not read – any type of data.
Getting html, text and PDFs over is fine – I’ve been using USB. PDF format brings out the best in the iRex (handles layout faithfully, you can zoom in and out on images, and it’s the only format in which you can annotate).
The How to Make Content manual gives tips about making optimised PDFs in terms of margins, paper-size of 124x152mm, a reference for how different fonts and sizes appear on the screen etc. But so far PDFs beyond my control have resized fine and you can shave off the whitespace and reorientate to landscape if there’s a problem.
It’s comfortable to read. It’s clear, matt, black against pale-grey and there’s no backlight.
It came with a shoulder bag but in search of a more book-like experience I got a protective case for it – like for a filofax in firey pink. It and has holes cut out for every button and display – except the stylus. You have to dig around for the stylus, or try to nudge the iRex out of the case, which is hard because it’s a tight fit.
What I like though is that with 14 hours of life I’t’s not necessary to switch off – I just shut the case and open it up again when I’m ready at precisely the right spot. Like a book. You have to fold the case back on itself to use the long vertical Flipbar to turn pages, though. Not really a problem.
It’s very comfortable. And I have several 100+ page docs on there already. I’ve got a read_me tag on Diigo I can work my way through.
I want to connect to a computer with mini-USB, not a weird ‘travel hub’.
Since downloading the upgrade I can’t seem to get a network connection – wired or wireless.
This is a big one – I can’t search for keywords in individual documents. Why?
It’s a teeny bit slower than I’d like.
If I lose the stylus there’s a lot I can’t do.
And that’s all for now.
“An 11-year-old child bride sits next to her 40-year-old fiance. For UNICEF, this was the Photo of the Year. Dutch writer Leon de Winter laments the perversity of this wedding picture and the frightening relativism of the West.”
See it and 10 others in the UNICEF Photos of the Year gallery on Der Spiegel Online International. Have hankies to hand.
Choose yourself something from this gallery of old Soviet cards – they are quite simply and oddly delightful.
Bow to Boing Boing.
I think I’m going to spend a significant amount of money on something I first saw on the District Line last month – an iRex iLiad Reader (second edition).
It has an electrophoretic display (eInk, tiny dyed particles which collect or recede according to an electrical charge) which doesn’t refresh or require backlighting and consequently allows a claimed 14-hour battery life. It’s roughly the same dimensions and weight as a book and for me this is a big draw – I don’t like reading from regular laptop screens because of glare, ergonomics, and the matter of having something heavy in my shoulder bag as I roam round London. I find my various other devices uncomfortable for reading as well.
It supports PDF, XHTML, TXT and MP3 – at the moment that means journal articles, out-of-copyright ebooks from e.g. Project Gutenberg, podcasts, subscription services via the iRex site and a growing number of copyright ebooks too. This will suit me fine. Mostly I’m PDFs and HTML.
It has a stylus and handwriting recognition – you can use it to generally take notes and you can annotate the texts and integrate the annotations. I take things in best if I do the ‘dialogue with the text’ thing and scrawl all over it.
OK, you can’t do much else with it except read, write and draw – apart from Libresco’s subscription service (newspapers etc) there’s nothing interesting to do with the Internet connection, no animation, no colour – although there is sound and it functions as a hard drive for moving stuff around. This is more than fine by me – I usually carry at least one book and several papers with me at any one time, I have to carry the books in an old cardboard Amazon pack so they don’t get dog-eared – more weight – I take notes on paper because I draw, and then find myself separated from old pads when I need them. Now I’ll have everything on cards.
I feel extremely guilty of extravagance. But I read a lot which, besides being good in itself, reclaims the time London always tries to steal. Reading makes perfect sense of my commute. And now I can read on platforms with my gloves on. And I’m saving the trees. Besides, I am such a Cinderella of learning technology, always trailing edge – I want to be glamorous around campus and become known as an inspiring technological trailblazer.
So what the hell.
There are reviews – an early overview from Sandra Vogel, a more technical assessment from Ego Food,and a fuller more recent Sandra Vogel review. The bloke who let me play with it on the train really liked it and his enthusiasm was infectious – I’ve been thinking about it ever since. So when I came into a bit of extra £ I thought about it some more, and it didn’t seem any less appealing, nor did my purse-strings constrict. I want it – I will have it, why not?
OK, I went and bought it from Libresco, which says it’s iRex’s official distributor, the bloke was really helpful and I’ll tell you tomorrow whether I have it.
The first thing I’m going to put on it will be David Hirsh’s Anti-Zionism and antisemitism: cosmopolitan reflections. The second will be That’s funny, you don’t look antisemitic by Steve Cohen. Then the most recent issue of Democratiya, and probably all the previous ones too. I’ll probably stick the Euston Manifesto conference MP3s on it too. Then all of the AWL’s recommended reading for their week school on Marxism and Anarchism. And that will be one ream of paper saved – and that’s if I print at 4 sides a sheet.
Oh it’s going to be great.
Lily Allen is allowed down – she’s not in the same league as this disgrace of a person.
In the spirit of recording events it’s been a nice week.
Yesterday I went to our work carol concert, organised by the Music Department and the vicar. Probably the most exciting carol was ‘Hark The Herald Angels Sing’ which had been souped up almost beyond recognition by Mtungwazi. The choir was punching the air and dancing hard – I almost left my seat myself, restrained only by Elizabeth who had at least one raised eyebrow and muttering about Africanisation. She prefers the Mendellsohn version we sang later on. I also really enjoyed ‘There is a Flower by John Rutter – many years have passed since pills and powders so it’s good to remember that you can get intense physical effects from a soaring soprano. During the plenary carols I sang so strongly I nearly blacked out at one stage. Then we drank, I think, coffee-tinted mulled wine from, I think, coffee urns. Or maybe it was just bad wine, or too many cloves, but you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and I was grateful for it. Elizabeth smelt butter in the mince pies so I forwent those and consequently was quite intoxicated for part of the afternoon.
The next Hark was being written and practised under my nose. The one and a half verses I got to hear had ‘trade unions’ ‘bosses’ and ‘solidarity’ in the lyrics. It scanned but I think carrying the meaning will depend on excellent enunciation.
Christmas aside, I split my sides at London Cringe at Barden’s Boudoir the night before last.
Cringe: The high comedy of teen diary dramas
The guiltiest of pleasures: other people’s diaries. Get your voyuerism/nostalgia fix in one fell swoop at Cringe, with real live readings from the readers’ own old teenage diaries, letters and poems. Listen to hilarious tales of love, injustice and embarrassment when these brave souls come forward and read aloud from their teenage diaries, journals, notes, letters, poems, abandoned rock operas, and other general representations of the crushing misery of their humiliating adolescence. The LA Times wrote of the New York Cringe: “Call it comedy. Call it therapy. The crowd that gathers over beers at Freddy’s Bar & Backroom in Brooklyn calls it “Cringe Night.” Once a month, people mostly in their 20s and 30s read their teenage writings, which have included a long-forgotten unrequited love letter to New Kids on the Block and a song composed in a fit of adulation for Richard Marx.”
It’s better and cheaper than therapy, and it’s funny as hell.
We’re still looking for readers for London Cringe. Contact Sarah Brown (firstname.lastname@example.org ) if you’re interested. (A good test to determine whether or not your material is Cringe-worthy: when you read it to yourself, do you physically cringe? Then it’s funny.)
There were a few of us there – MattP was reading. We sat on a bashed up chesterman couch right at the front.
Was it a too-ostentatious display of latterday well-adjustedness? Were these people being treacherous to their younger selves? Is that even possible? Was it real? These were all questions I didn’t ask. Laughing at somebody who was trying to make me laugh with an account of being petrified of pigeons as a little girl, to the extent that she had to wrap her writing hand in a flannel to avoid accidentally brushing against the word ‘pigeon’, who dreamed of pigeons “in clumps”, whose mother, during a road trip in the US, bought a frozen pigeon from the bakery to cure her (or was that one of the pigeon dreams), who had stayed in a wigwam built in the 1940s with central heating from the 1930s – was irresistable. And the boy who was crippled with guilt for dreaming about the girls in his class. And the rural schoolgirl’s agonies over a boy at debating club. Or the girl who wrote the name of the boy she craved in her diary with her foot, left hand and mouth, in orange felt tip. G and R were less than happy about the whole thing, I caught D giggling – Matt and I were howling.
Two things jarred. The ruthless-sounding woman who read out the letters from her evidently suffering, subsequently ex, boyfriend – it’s wrong to read other people’s stuff. And the man who sucked me so far into his boarding school diaries that I even interjected at one stage – he was one of the best but it turned out he’d done the same skit recently at The Foundry. It made me take G’s comment about egotism a bit seriously – the idea of people augmenting their entries and practising spontaneous delivery in front of the mirror. And now I’m wondering how much of it was for real.
Sadly I have to face the fact that my crisis-ridden teenage writing isn’t funny. I only wrote in love, loss or loneliness. It’s young vulnerable me taking myself apart, hatchetting out the stuff I don’t like and patching myself up again like Frankenstein. Even though you’d cringe, it’s not funny.
MattP read a skit he’d written for his 6th Form Review.
The arrival of issue 11 of Smoke (a London peculiar) means I can get up from under the letterbox.
This issue, Matt Haynes tips over some bins in Wapping, Adam Zucker is mistaken for a Canadian on the Central Line, there’s a picture of a monstrous cyclist made of foliage next to Lambeth Bridge. Bus of the month is the 108. London’s campest statue is in the Port of London Authority Building, Trinity Square. I’m still laughing at ‘Things Not To Do In The Isle Of Dogs’ (first I read it and though “That is not at all funny”, then I saw the picture). The fiction is always much better than it looks at first – Tricity Bendix always looks good to start with.
As I stare at the pixelated head of this issue’s London’s Ugliest Dog, I’m renewing my pledge to write a piece. Nobody ever writes of Barkingside. I’ll mention how the Central Line enfolds us and the liminal bridge on Forest Road keeps us from Essex. The bed hair of the new Fairlop Oak and the spurious reckoning of the More Than A Farmshop retail entity on far side of the tracks. The sinister relocation of the zebra crossing near the school so it’s closer to the roundabout exit. The best pitta in the world (Yossi’s). The library roof. The St Bernards who have do their rescue training at Fairlop water because they’re banished from Britain’s beaches. There’s no other place for this stuff but Smoke.
I won’t write about the clairvoyant shop because it’s vanished.
If you just take out a little subscription to Smoke, Matt Haynes won’t have to get a distributor any more and neither will he have to cycle to foreign places (Harrow) with a box on this handlebars. It’s a third way.
Matt, Jude I don’t mind if it’s late – don’t get a distributor if you don’t want to. I’ll be ok under the letterbox – another Matt brings food in the evening and something new to read.
Oh – you did.
I’ve often wondered how bodies with an interest in hiding things would react to ‘sensitive’ requests under Freedom of Information Act. Surely they don’t just throw up their hands, sigh “The game’s up”, and hand over the incriminating data – in fact if they exploit one of the many exemptions, they don’t have to.
No – you have to sneak up on them. Martin Bright admires Conservative researcher Richard Hardyment’s circumspect use of the Freedom of Information Act to find information on donors to the Labour Party.