I tried to upgrade my netbook a few weekends ago. It already had Ubuntu 10.04 installed on it, but I wanted to install the latest, 10.10. It had been a little flakey with the wireless link and I was hoping the new version would sort things out. No such luck. After about an hour or so installing, all it did was keep trying to connect over and over again. I was about to go back to 10.04 this weekend, so that I would have at least a version that half-worked (I also don't like the new Unity user interface that much), but I'd read a review in Linux User & Developer magazine that recommended Jolicloud, so I installed that instead. It's not too bad, although perhaps a little too web oriented for my taste (part of the installation is for you to sign up to their web site or Facebook page, which is a bit off putting), but it did connect to the wireless router.
As a passing thought, if you want to check out an operating system on a PC, it might be worth using it from a boot drive first to see whether it will support all the hardware, etc.
Sunday 27 February 2011
Insane on the Train
Would you risk almost certain death to catch a train?
No, obviously not. I mean you'd have to be stark staring mad, wouldn't you. Well, I saw this very thing on Friday night.
I caught a slightly earlier C2C train from Fenchurch Street on Friday evening. I'd managed to get to West Ham station via the Overground and the Jubilee and a rather crowded 18:00 train pulled up as I got on to the platform. I was stood up most of the way until we got to Basildon at around 18:20, when the vast majority of the train emptied. As the doors closed, a bloke launched himself at them, missing by a few inches, and started banging on them to be let in. However, they're electronic and once shut, you can't open them again, neither from the outside nor the inside. There was a guy stood next to the doors and he tried to open them too, but to no avail. This is where the insanity came in.
You and I would simply curse our bad fortune, kick the doors maybe, rant and rave for a few minutes and simply wait for the next train, due about five minutes or so after us. Not this bloke, oh no. He tried to open the doors by pulling at them. If he'd had some kind of jemmy or crowbar, he might have done it, but not with bare hands. Then we started to move off, so he stood on the tiny ledge outside the door, which is about two or three inches wide, as we accelerated down the platform. He hung on to the train for a good fify yards or so, screaming at the guy on the inside to pull the emergency cord, which a woman in front of me told him not to as it would stop the train (yeah, obviously), but would you have let the bloke on the train by now? The mad bloke eventually jumped from the train as we were doing about 20 miles an hour and someone said that he'd fallen as he landed.
Now whether this is commuter madness or Basildon madness or just some random nutter, I'll leave that for you to decide, but I hate commuting.
No, obviously not. I mean you'd have to be stark staring mad, wouldn't you. Well, I saw this very thing on Friday night.
I caught a slightly earlier C2C train from Fenchurch Street on Friday evening. I'd managed to get to West Ham station via the Overground and the Jubilee and a rather crowded 18:00 train pulled up as I got on to the platform. I was stood up most of the way until we got to Basildon at around 18:20, when the vast majority of the train emptied. As the doors closed, a bloke launched himself at them, missing by a few inches, and started banging on them to be let in. However, they're electronic and once shut, you can't open them again, neither from the outside nor the inside. There was a guy stood next to the doors and he tried to open them too, but to no avail. This is where the insanity came in.
You and I would simply curse our bad fortune, kick the doors maybe, rant and rave for a few minutes and simply wait for the next train, due about five minutes or so after us. Not this bloke, oh no. He tried to open the doors by pulling at them. If he'd had some kind of jemmy or crowbar, he might have done it, but not with bare hands. Then we started to move off, so he stood on the tiny ledge outside the door, which is about two or three inches wide, as we accelerated down the platform. He hung on to the train for a good fify yards or so, screaming at the guy on the inside to pull the emergency cord, which a woman in front of me told him not to as it would stop the train (yeah, obviously), but would you have let the bloke on the train by now? The mad bloke eventually jumped from the train as we were doing about 20 miles an hour and someone said that he'd fallen as he landed.
Now whether this is commuter madness or Basildon madness or just some random nutter, I'll leave that for you to decide, but I hate commuting.
Sunday 13 February 2011
Giant Gobstopper
I thought I'd buy a giant gobstopper from that sweet shop in Southend.
How anyone is going to eat it, I don't know. I suppose you'd either break bits off it with a hammer or wear it down slowly by licking it.
How anyone is going to eat it, I don't know. I suppose you'd either break bits off it with a hammer or wear it down slowly by licking it.
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