Josh (the blog)

I’ve delivered simple, clear and easy-to-use services for 20 years, for startups, scaleups and government. I write about the nerdy bits here.


@joahua

Photos, because I have been taking them and apparently have a populist streak

Sunset in surburban backstreets

Can anyone guess where this is?

An emoticon scratched into a tank of liquid oxygen

Could be a social comment on the nature of emoticon-based expression, perhaps? Imprisoning, unmoving, cold… how odd! Who would think such things? :p

Demolition of a building in Sydney with one wall remaining

There is a massive building being demolished in the city at the minute. The fact they’ve left one incredibly thin wall (left of frame) standing is completely absurd, but I’m sure there’s some sophisticated engineering decision behind it. It barely looks strong enough to withstand a decent kick were one to somehow reach high enough, being (apparently) a layer of bricks thick with slightly crumbling mortar and a flimsy wooden internal support system that’s probably well and truely rotten by now.

Discourse and memory

Stories, in the retelling, become consecrated to that circumstance. Insofar as that circumstance is allowed to persist (‘circumstance’ itself being a broadly-defined concept of context), the story (intimacy excepted) may be retold to others. But it is not anything about the story itself. The most benign of ideas may, in discourse, become of great significance — this significance stems not from the retelling; rather, the process of retelling is used to attach personal meaning that the mediocre might become magnificent.

A row of absurdly painted faces turn.

This has two links: of the context of discourse, and of the geography of events related. I do not relate the events here, but after writing this perhaps I may [wish to]. Words evoke memories, basically. The fascinating thing is not just that, but rather the ability of words evoking memories to evoke memories (that is, the words, not the memories, were the catalyst for other memories). Way to go taking a simple concept and making it complex!

The point is, the mind is awesome yet simultaneously twisted…

Unfortunate article abstract – disqualified by gender

From this evening’s SMH website comes this abstract/second-level headline “Floyd Landis likely to lose Tour de France title and has been sacked from his team, after testing positive for testosterone.”

Yes, he is male, yes, it was a male contest. This is why arbitarily dropping adjectives to achieve headline-friendly ‘sentences’ is a bad idea. It originally read “excessive testosterone”, but now appears that all the other cyclists were, erm, somewhat lacking.

Kermit’s escape-by-hanging

Kermit escapes a sandstone castle

The novelty of Count von Count’s incessant counting finally wearing thin, Kermit opts out of yet another Sesame Street maths class taking full advantage of a cord and nearby open window.

Count von Count

The Count looks upwards at Kermit’s corpse later on and laughs: “One dead Kermit! Ah Ah Ah!” before proceeding to see if he can make his leg twitch (hey, they even do experiments on dead frogs in high school, okay? Nothing wrong with poking a dead frog.) The snow is a minor continuity flaw outside of my control; I believe such things have been attributed to von Count’s grandfather in the past (see following Wikipedia quote:)

The Count’s former girlfriend, Countess von Backwards, was known for counting backwards. More recently he has been seen with a new girlfriend, Countess Dahling Von Dahling. His brother and mother have made appearances on the show. His grandparents also made an appearance. When Grandma Count laughs, it rains. When Grandpa Count laughs, it snows.

Fine, you come up with a better caption/explanation for the first image above!

p.s. Muppets are probably the most brilliant animated/puppet characters ever to grace screens across the world. Just to get that out there in case anyone would deny it.

Housefire retention

My room hasn’t smelt like overheating light for too long. It’s the smell of reading well past bedtime, neither of which particularly exists anymore. I’ve probably made other plans by the time this is read, anyway. Allusions are dry things, and metaphors draining… so I’ll pass this time. Simple.