And now here's an amorphous and evil-minded blob with the cricket:

[hirez]

Cricket. (Via the ever-correct and punker'n fuck the_siobhan. Expect it linked on Making Light RSN.)

Vaguely related to cricket. (Via Electrolite.) I've tried the non-slip one and I'll be jiggered if it doesn't work.

Not even slightly cricket. (Via BoingBoing. Yes, I have nothing better to do than wander t'interweb.) Actually, strike that. I think "So far away from what any rational person might consider cricket as to both beggar belief and make the blood boil." might sail close. Yes.

In other news, I have been in receipt of a CD with a vast .wav file thereupon. I was mildly concerned, so I played it. Hm. Yes.

Mind, playing the thing involved discovering that my PC had sacrificed its second PSU. That bloody thing eats them for a laugh, I swear. Bristol hasn't yet reached the Gibsonian state of London where you can haggle for computer parts with the same woman from whom you've just bought noodles and a hacked Korean knock-off of a Flash-animated tattoo at 4AM (at least I don't think it has, I'd be most pleased to hear opinions to the contrary), so I had to go and get ripped off by a spotty oik in City Speed Joe Maplin's.

This comes the week after I replaced the motherboard in the other machine (previously a K6-350 that's gone unreliable, though it's likely just the CPU fan. Not that I can find Socket-7 CPU fans at either City Speed or Kent Cams.) with a Micro-ITX example. The 800MHz VIA unit is a pleasingly small and feature-packed device. I shall likely have to buy another one next week when the BSD box goes bang. (Machines usually blow up after Whitby because that's the only time they get turned off for any length of time.) Note that this is not a PC review because I've not mentioned the words 'sports' or 'boasts'. As if I would be the sort of fellow who'd enjoy pulling down the trousers of 'computer' 'journalists'. Perish the thought.

[ For those who've never owned a Mini or lived in Gloucestershire, City Speed is (or used to be) an emporium for the vending of motoring requisites, usually frequented by the lower orders. ]

I'm sure there was something else. I'll bolt it in later when I remember it.

Oh. Yeah. I have been dreaming far too much about motorcycles. This can only be a bad thing. Especially after seeing an 80s snot-green Z1R the other week. There was also one about some strange form of energy invented by scientists in Dresden that made everyone look like they were wearing UV-reactive Kraftwerk suits and then float over a place I used to live, before having an argument with a bloke about reversing an old combine harvester (a Clays, I think) into a dutch barn.

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So don't turn them off....