They've gone. All those 30-year old BBC weather symbols, all those chunky white clouds and yellow temperature circles, they just evaporated like the morning dew. This morning, as of about 45 minutes ago in fact, the entire BBC meteorological customer interface updated to something rather more21stcentury. The BBC have bought into a swish program called Weatherscape, developed by technoboffins in New Zealand, and everything now looks very very different.
The TV weather map used to be static, but now we swoosh around the British Isles looking down from above, sickbag in hand. Be patient - your bit of the UK will come around in a minute. The new satellite view squashes the country vertically, which is not necessarily a good thing when the UK is 'portrait' and your TV screen is 'landscape', so viewers in the north of Scotland may now have to squint to catch sight of where they live. And the forecast is now depicted not via symbols but through shading - bright for sunshine, darker for overcast and blue for rain. This is probably an improvement, given that the old symbols covered hundreds of square miles each and so were never pinpoint accurate, but you can't just glance at the screen any more and think "ooh, showers with sunny intervals". Now you have to stop, and think, and concentrate, and work out what the hell all that patchy shading means for your home town. I'm struggling a bit. Maybe I'll get used to the new style of presentation after a while, but for the time being I'm sort of hankering after all those beloved 1970s design icons.
A brief history ofBBC weather symbols 1954: In the first broadcast weather forecast, proper meteorological symbols are drawn onto a synoptic chart using wax crayon. 1967: Magnetic rubber symbols are introduced, stuck onto (and occasionally falling off of) a big UK map. The symbols still match those on an "official" weather chart, with black spots for rain, triangles for showers and a big spiky 'T' for thunderstorms. 1975: A new set of weather symbols is introduced, still magnetic but a good deal more realistic. Now there are clouds that look like clouds, raindrops that looks like raindrops and a sun that looks like it was drawn by a 4 year old (the symbols were in fact created by Mark Allen, a 22 year old graphic designer from the Norwich College of Art). Perfectly simple, but simply perfect. 1985: New computer presentation is introduced. The map can now be shaded different colours for different temperatures, but the symbols remain exactly the same. [Also introduced in this particular week: Wogan, EastEnders and the first computer generated BBC1 globe] 1988: The first dynamic arrows to show wind direction and strength, and the introduction of rainfall radar. 1996: Shading now depicts the land more realistically, with lumpy hills and yellowy deserts. 2005: After thirty years' service the faithful old symbols are retired from the television weather forecast, replaced by revolutionary 3D graphics. See what you think of the new splotchy/shaded cloudy/wet weather forecasts (examples here). But if you're suffering withdrawal symptoms don't worry, because those (slightly updated) classic symbols survive into their fourth decade on the BBC's online weather maps.
The best greyhound stadium in East London is in Walthamstow (and not, as you might expect, in Barking). Crowds flock here three nights a week to watch the dogs, to eat and drink, and to lose large sums of money. Walthamstow Stadium dates back to 1933, built on the site of an old football ground by local bookie William Chandler, and the multi million pound business is still owned and managed by his descendants. The stadium's art deco frontage is most impressive, especially the giant scoreboard, although the architecture inside is a little more utilitarian. And it only costs six quid to get in.
Last night the stadium was packed out. None of your pretentious West End crowd here, just very ordinary people enjoying the extraordinary atmosphere. There were young couples out for a punt and a pint, old dears who must have been coming for years and families with feral kids lifted from the local housing estate. But most of the crowd could best be described as 'geezers', dressed by Top Man and Prada, swaggering from trackside to Tote, swilling lager like the pumps were about to run dry. Some settled down to a tray of scampi and chips, some risked a lengthy hot dog, others took their seats in the Paddock Grill restaurant (fully booked until July) while the remainder seemed content enough with liquid refreshment. The whole place was like a giant pub, caff and betting shop combined, which no doubt is why it's so massively successful.
The real buzz of the evening comes from the racing. There are 14 races, each outlined in impenetrable statistical detail in the official programme. You can study past form to help you pick a winner or you can do what half the crowd appeared to be doing and pick the dog with the silliest name. See who you'd have chosen from the first race: . The simplest way to stake a wager is on the Tote, selecting 'win', 'place' or 'forecast' at one of the booths placed liberally around the stadium. For a more serious bet try the trackside bookmakers, each bloke standing alert beside his easel, marker pen poised to scribble the ever changing odds. The minimum bet here is a fiver, and you have to remember a serial number when they hand you your betting slip, so I suspect these professionals are far more likely to end up minted than you are.
All the greyhounds are paraded up and down the track before each race, just so you can check that they have the requisite number of legs. Once they're bundled into the trap at the starting line, the lights in the stadium are lowered and an expectant crowd strains to watch the action. The hare (scraggy bit of fur, more like) whizzes round the perimeter of the track, the dogs launch after it, a roar goes up and the race is on. I've never quite understood the urge to yell loudly at the dog you've placed your money on. "Three!!!" "C'mon six!" For a start, unless you're trackside they're never going to hear you and, more crucially, greyhounds can't count.
Each race is usually no more than one circuit of the track and is over in a matter of seconds, so you have to be careful not to blink and miss the result. This action photograph captures the final moments of race number three, in which I'd bet on dog number 2 (Hope For Gold) at the suggestion of the Sporting Life's finest tipsters. Look, there's dog number 2 in the blue coat over by the far rail, nosing inexorably towards the finishing post. Unfortunately, as those of you brought up on "Spot the ball" competitions will have realised, the spectators at the bottom of this photo are turned to the right, watching the real race leaders already zooming off into the distance. This is alas a shot of the last three dogs limping into oblivion, with my dog right bringing up the rear in sixth place. If there were a sound effect to accompany this picture it would be the faint whimper of a thin white betting slip being ripped into tiny pieces.
I bet on five races altogether, each time backing dog number 2, and I was rewarded with a 3rd place, a 4th place and three lasts. My results may have been a pile of number 2s but at least I walked away with a net loss of only £13, having left the serious betting to the experts. A good night out down the Stow isn't just about the winning, it's in the taking part. I'll be back.
This morning diamond geezer is due to receive its 200000th visitor. My first hundred thousand visitors took nearly two years to arrive, whereas the second hundred thousand have taken less than ten months. Which is nice. Today's milestone gives me another good excuse to update my regular 'league table' of top linking blogs, ordered by volume of visitors clicking here from there. Also included are the 'highest climbers' since my last update way back at the start of January. Thanks to all of the following for linking. Go on, go click on a few and return the favour...
Arseblog is so far out in front that I doubt anybody else will ever be able to catch him up. However the battle for second place has been extremely tight, with only a tiny handful of clicks separating 2nd, 3rd and 4th places, and I had to go to a recount. Congratulations to ambulanceman Tom for his highest new entry at number 8 (he's so famous now, you know), and also to onionbagblogger and NiC who finally make the top 20 lower down. And thank you all for clicking.
What is sudoku? It's a Japanese puzzle played on a 9x9 square grid divided into nine 3x3 boxes. What are the rules? You have to fill in the grid so that every row, every column and every 3x3 box contains the numbers 1 to 9. Is that all there is to it? Yes, like all the best puzzles it's fiendishly simple. Aren't all those numbers a bit scary? There's no need to use maths - every puzzle can be solved by logic alone. What's all the fuss about? Ah, I can see you've not played before. Some people find sudoku highly addictive. It's in all the papers you know. Which newspaper has the best sudoku? The Mail says it's the best because it was the first. The Times says it's the best because its puzzles are the most elegant. The Telegraph says it's the best because their puzzles get harder during the week. The Independent says it's the best because it has three puzzles every day. The Guardian says it's the best because all its puzzles are handwritten, not computer generated. I suspect they're all much the same. Isn't this all a bit highbrow? Not at all. The Mirror started sudoku-ing yesterday. Even the Sun launched a daily puzzle this week (called Sun Doku), right next to a giant picture of Jade Goody saying "Even I can do it... I fink".
I've not played before. Can you ease me in gently? Sure. Have a go at this dgMini-SudokuTM puzzle. What are the rules? Every row, every column and every 2x2 box must contain the numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4. OK, so the missing numbers on the top row must be 3 and 4? That's right. But there's already a 4 in the last column? Yes, so there's only one place where the 4 on the top row can go. Ah, and the missing numbers in the bottom right box must be 2 and 3? That's it. I think I've got it now! Go on, see if you can finish the puzzle off.
OK, now I'm hooked. Where can I find sudoku to play online?
• The Times and Telegraph let you print out all their puzzles.
• There are four months of printable archives at the Daily Sudoku.
• You can play interactively online here, here and here.
• Tips on how to play can be found here, here, here and here (pdf).
• You can download sudoku programs here (free) and here (costs).
• If you want to 'cheat', there are grid-filling websites here, here, here, here and here.
Gallowatch • "As detailed below, the Subcommittee has uncovered significant evidence that George Galloway was allocated millions of barrels of crude oil under the Oil-For-Food Program." (US Senate report, 12/05/05) • "The report was compiled without this Senate committee asking me a single question about these absurd allegations. I repeat once more. I have never traded or benefited from any oil deals with Iraq." (12/05/05) • "George and press officer Ron McKay are co-authoring a book on the Bethnal Green campaign. The book will reveal the planning behind the removal of sitting MP Oona King, New Labour's dirty tricks, the truth behind the shock divorce action, 'the war of Les's nose' and how Respect won the vote on the streets. Further details of the Bethnal Green book will be unveiled at a reception in the House of Commons on May 25. ITN will be excluded, as will Jeremy Paxman." (10/05/05)
I had a lovely piece about favicons prepared for this morning. Favicons are those tiny 16x16 graphics that you probably see displayed in your browser's address bar or in your list of bookmarks on certain websites. I spent last night preparing a tiny clickable gallery of 49 favicons from blogs that I like. It took me ages to locate as many as 49 favicons and to save each one as a tiny jpeg or gif and to make them all clickable, but the final montage looked really rather impressive. Or at least it did in Firefox. And then I checked my handiwork in Internet Explorer and I was mortified to discover that 40 of the miniature works of art were suddenly unreadable, replaced instead by the 'red cross of death'. And it seemed pointless to put up a post that most of you wouldn't be able to read, so what a complete waste of time all my coding last night was. Thank you Mr Gates. Here are the only 9 favicons (out of 49) that display properly in IE:
Sigh. Anyway, I'm sure you get the idea. Favicons really are a very good thing for identifying websites, and it's amazing how creative people can be in just 256 pixels. If your blog doesn't have one, you can create your own favicon here. Then you just save the resulting image file to the root directory of your server, probably as favicon.ico, and other people's browsers do the rest. Really, honest, it is worth the effort - Iknow40otherexamplesthatlookequallyasgood. Sigh.
How much do you rely on your mobile phone? - the results
Option
Votes
I'd be lost without it
9%
12
I use it a lot
8%
11
I use it regularly
24%
34
I use it occasionally
51%
72
I don't have one
8%
11
140 votes total
So, I have a readership who are mostly mobile-resistant. Almost exactly half of you are like me and use your mobile sparingly, as necessary, but could probably live without it most of the time. About a quarter of you use your mobile fairly often, probably getting the best out of it, and just under 10% of you are heavy users. Another 10% of you admit to being mobile addicts, gagging for the next welcome vibration in your pocket, unable to function without a regular communication fix. But there remain just under 10% of readers who still haven't taken the plunge and bought a handset, proving that it is possible to survive in this world without being permanently contactable... and they're probably saving a fortune too. Thanks for voting.
Mobile incident 1: I spent most of the weekend with my parents in deepest Norfolk. You might have thought that Norfolk was part of the modern civilised world, but apparently not. There is no mobile phone reception where my parents live, not a bar, not a flicker. It's like living back in 1995. You can't send text messages, you can't check your voicemail and you can't download the latest Premiership goals. On the positive side, nobody in the village walks around with a phone clutched to their ear, nobody's brain is being fried by living too close to a phone mast and you're more likely to hear a real croak than that annoying Crazy Frog ringtone. It's all quite refreshing really. And there's always that solid 20th century phenomenon, the ordinary telephone, which used to be a perfectly acceptable means of keeping in touch. Being signal-deprived for two days didn't bother me at all, but I suspect a large proportion of the UK population would have been suffering twitchy withdrawal symptoms within hours.
Mobile incident 2: On the train home from Norfolk there was rather too much mobile reception. A bald bloke in a belly-hugging suit conducted international business from the middle of a field just outside Ipswich. Two lads in front of me spent the entire journey accessing the huge multimedia archive stored on each other's phone, mostly miniature music videos featuring scantily clad females warbling in foreign. I hate to think how much it must have cost them to download that much material, legitimately at least. But it was when the pink-coated mid-70s granny sitting in the seat opposite suddenly whipped out her handset to give her granddaughter a call that I decided maybe mobile phone penetration had reached epidemic proportions. Can people not make a simple journey any more without getting uncontrollably lonely and generating unnecessary profit for mobile phone companies? Is nobody immune?
Mobile incident 3: Three seconds after leaving my house to go to work yesterday morning I realised I'd left my mobile indoors. I could have gone back inside to collect it, it would have delayed me by no more than 15 seconds, but I decided not to bother. Spending the day handset-free was no big deal. My mobile rings so infrequently that I'm not usually alert enough to notice even when it eventually does. I don't spend my days in the office engaging in surreptitious ping pong SMS chats at 10p a line. When I want to take a photograph I prefer to use a real camera over whose images I have complete ownership and control. And if somebody really had wanted to get in touch with me urgently yesterday, well, there was a real phone on my desk. When I got back home umpteen hours later I was proved right - there were no messages, no missed calls, nothing, from nobody, as usual. I can live without my mobile. Can you?
(This whole post is just an excuse for me to try out a new 'free' web poll service. Please click and vote. Poll closes 0700 tomorrow.)
(Or, if you're a true mobile addict, please text 'MUG' to 88167 [votes cost 25p plus usual network charges]
How annoying is it to click on a link on an old webpage only to discover that the page you're trying to open no longer exists? It must have existed at some point, but now it's vanished, gone, disappeared, forever. Maybe the page was deleted, or maybe the website reorganised itself, or maybe the URL changed without leaving a forwarding address, or maybe the original web domain expired. Whatever the reason, all you get now is a placeholder, a confused jumple of code or the dreaded 404 error page. Or, even worse, you arrive to discover that some spammy cybersquatter has bought up the old domain name [e.g. swishcottage.com] and is now lying in wait to bombard unsuspecting visitors with irrelevant advertising. How are the mighty fallen.
It's even worse when people descend on your webpage archive only to discover that half of your links no longer work. It looks so unprofessional. So I thought I'd do a survey to discover just how bad the problem of 'link rot' has become deep within my own website. I went back to my blog pages from May 2004 and May 2003, clicked on every site in sight and totalled up how many of the links still work one or two years later. And here are my results:
May 2004 [1 year ago] Total number of off-site links on main page = 520 Total number of links which still work = 450 [=87%]
May 2003 [2 years ago] Total number of off-site links on main page = 321 Total number of links which still work = 233 [=73%]
Which suggests that roughly 1 in 6 of weblinks disappear every year. To be honest that's better than I was expecting because I thought the annual web haemorrhage was far worse. But it still means that several great pages have been lost, or hidden, or pulled, or extinguished, and only the Wayback Machine can bring them back.
Blogs turn out to have a fairly better strike rate. Of the 20 blogs in my sidebar in May 2003, a quarter have shifted off tosomedifferentwebaddress and a further 15% have stoppedupdatingaltogether, but none of them have disappeared completely. Again, I thought the blog evaporation rate would be higher than that, so I'm pleasantly relieved to discover that it's not - or maybe I'm just good at picking long-stayers. In the meantime, why not check out the broken links on your own webpage here, before any more of them vanish forever.
It was at quarter to five on Friday morning that I realised I hated George Galloway. 'Hate' is perhaps too strong a word, too negative, too emotional, because I'm a calm and rational human being and I don't think I've genuinely hated anyone in my life. Maybe 'loathe' would be more accurate. However, Gorgeous George's smug refusal to answer any of Jeremy Paxman's questions finally flipped an irreversible switch inside my brain and elevated my new MP to a position of total abhorrence. I was surprised by my reaction, shocked even, because extremely few people in my life ever reach this level of personal repugnance. But there is a very small, select group of people who I really really dislike and for whom I feel a genuine revulsion. This group probably numbers less than ten people in total, which I don't think is bad out of a world population of six billion, but George is very definitely the latest addition. And I wondered why.
One particular former boss of mine was particularly detestable, not least because he replaced someone at the other end of the niceness spectrum. This grinning beast swanned into his new post with a level of incompetence that defied his position, then proceeded to take credit for the achievements of those beneath him. And yet to those outside his immediate circle he appeared charming and capable because he played the system perfectly. I was looking for a new job within six weeks of his arrival. Another former work colleague of mine was a lazy waster who always found the easiest way to meet any commitment. His underlings never did any real work, they were just kept entertained, but they and the outside world loved him for his supposed brilliance. His entire reputation was a sham, and I strongly resented the way he appeared so dedicated while doing so very little.
On Friday morning, as a new day dawned over Bethnal Green and Bow, I finally worked out the common characteristics of this tiny band of people that I truly hate loathe. It's not just that I disagree with their point of view, otherwise I'd hate most of the politicians on the planet. It's not even that I think these people are lazy, or mendacious, or offensive, although they are all these things too. No, the key trigger that makes someone contemptible in my eyes is a self-centred nature that refuses to recognise or appreciate any other viewpoint, coupled with a total inability to utter the word 'sorry'. And, perhaps more importantly, a superhuman and irresistible charisma that lures others into a state of unquestioning adoration, making these followers oblivious to any external voice of reason. Such a charm offensive was precisely why I fell for my ex, about whom the less said the better, except to say that I have no desire to become a con artist's unwitting disciple ever again. Mr Galloway, you're in good company. And I'm glad that, in working out why you're on my very short shortlist of hate, I've learnt a little bit more about myself. But I hope it's a long time before anyone else in my life plumbs similar depths, by George.
Gallowatch • "It is one of my first missions to bring Tony Blair in front of a court in The Hague and behind bars."(07/05/05) • "The campaign to take control of the London boroughs of Tower Hamlets and Newham begins on Monday."(07/05/05) • "Not since 1945 has a party to the left of Labour in England won a seat in parliament."(07/05/05)
I despair. The rest of you probably now have a sane Member of Parliament. I have George Galloway. Your MP probably hasn't told Saddam Hussein what a jolly decent bloke he is. Mine has. Your MP probably thanked the returning officer for all his hard work. My MP told him he was corrupt. Your MP probably believes passionately in the welfare of his constituents. Mine has an international agenda and a suspicious tan. Your MP will probably go to Westminster and vote several times over the next four years. I'm not expecting to be represented in Parliament at all. Your MP is probably a big headed, smug self-publicist. So is my MP, but with knobs on. I despair.
How the hell did that happen? It looks like the religious mix in my constituency has conspired to deliver the final blow to Tony Blair's warmongering credibility. I guess it's not a problem to have one UK constituency that goes out on a limb to make a stand against Iraq, leaving the other 645 to vote along normal party lines. It just hurts when you happen to live in that one maverick constituency, not in this case because of the message but because of the messenger. How long is it until the next General Election? Sigh, 2009 can't come quickly enough round here.
00:00 The last election night in 2001 was pretty dull - very few seats changed hands. This one already looks rather different. All the pundits now seem fairly certain that Tony Blair has been dealt a bloody nose by the electorate, but not yet quite how large that haemorrhage might be. Me, I'm rather more concerned by early reports that my new MP may be a slimeball. 00:15 Five seats called so far, and Labour has won 100% of them. If this result were to be replicated across the entire country then we could be living in a totalitarian one-party state by dawn. No change there. 00:28 Without a word, the BBC swingometer has magically changed from the red/blue model to the red/orange version. Is this prophetic of a much increased Liberal Democrat presence in the new House of Commons? 01:00 36 results now in, and just one seat has changed hands. All the evidence, however, suggests that this will not be typical as the morning continues. 01:30 90 results now in, and Conservatives are daring to believe they've polled rather better than they might have dreamed just a few hours ago. The notional Labour majority is tumbling with every passing declaration. 01:50 Peter Snow (and his appallingly unrealistic computer generated party leaders) finally risks predicting the final result - a Labour majority of 68. 02:09 The 200th result flashes by (I believe it's traditional to say "they're coming thick and fast now"). The Conservatives are doing well in London at the expense of Labour, but swings appear to be between different parties in different parts of the country. 02:33 Labour privately concedes Bethnal Green and Bow to George Galloway. <insert your own swear word here> 02:48 Half the seats have declared (that's 323 of them). Already more seats have changed hands than during the 2001 election. 03:17 400 seats called, with Labour only 50 seats short of the winning post. Despite all the gains and losses, it's another red landslide. 03:42 As the rural Tory seats start to declare, all the parties are wheeling out pundits to explain why the result is a triumph for their campaign. 450 results now, and Tony is 25 short of a government. 04:28 That's it, Labour has an overall majority and a third successive victory. Now everyone can finally go to bed... except for me, because I'm still waiting for the official declaration in my own constituency. 04:32 At last, the declaration in Bethnal Green and Bow. George and Oona are standing side by side on the stage, like a white and black couple dressed in black and white. George wins by a narrow 823 majority, then steps up to damn Tony Blair, New Labour and (astonishingly) the returning officer. He promises to start a campaign to oust the 'corrupt' councillors of Tower Hamlets and replace them with a new elected Respect regime. Oona shakes her head, and I consider moving the hell out of here if that takeover ever happens. Ms King gives a gracious speech of defeat, then walks off into obscurity. I'm off to bed. I may have nightmares.
Rule 1: Vote for others
I stood outside Stratford shopping centre the other day. The pavement was a teeming mass of humanity, everybody busy hurrying in different directions. Some were intent on going about their business, others clearly had no business to go about. There were people of every race and colour, each with their own very different lives to lead. There were families with several tiny children, pensioners slowly pushing their purchases home and groups of teenagers staring at an uncertain future. Most of the people I saw came from highly disadvantaged backgrounds, strapped for cash, lugging around cheap goods in flimsy plastic carrier bags, making ends meet as best they could. And when I cast my vote today I shall be voting for them as well as for me. I believe an election shouldn't be about how much I can get out of the system, it should be about how much better the system can be for everyone. Especially the shoppers of Stratford.
Rule 2: Vote on all the issues
Some people have tried to turn this election into a referendum on one single issue. For some people that issue is immigration, but for most people it's Iraq. Even among voters who supported the war you'd be hard pushed to find anybody who still supports the way the Government led us blindly into military action. Today's election finally gives voters the chance to voice their disappointment and to give the Prime Minister a well-deserved bloody nose. I'm particularly fortunate because the choice of candidates in my local constituency gives me the unique opportunity to cast my vote based solely on this one hugely important issue. But I won't. This isn't a referendum about the past, it's a vote for the future. It's a vote to decide who runs our hospitals and our schools, how our economy develops, how safe the streets are and what our foreign policy priorities should be. And I prefer to vote on everything, not one thing.
Rule 3: Vote
No matter what the election - local, national or European - I always make the effort to turn out and draw a cross on a ballot paper. I know my vote doesn't really make a difference, but I believe it's important to be heard. I know all the candidates are as bad as each other, but if I don't vote I risk letting the worst one win. And I know some people would prefer that ballot papers had a box marked 'none of the above', but that would be a cop out (and anyway, nobody would win, every time). It may be hackneyed to point out that people fought and died for the right to vote, but it's true all the same. SylviaPankhurst even launched her "votes for women" campaign literally a stone's throw from where I now live, and I feel I owe her something. I'll see you down the polling station in 15 minutes.
050505 quiz: You're probably aware of the "four 4s" puzzle in which four 4s are used to make a series of calculations with various answers. If not, see here. Today, in honour of 05/05/05, I offer the "five 5s" puzzle.
Can you use exactly five 5s and any mathematical operations* to make** all of the numbers from 0 to 30***?
*Acceptable mathematical operations: add, subtract, multiply, divide, brackets, fractions.
** For example, 31=5x5+5+5/5, 35=55-(5x5)+5 and 36=5x5+55/5
*** I can make all of the numbers from 0 to 30 bar three of them. Collectively, can you do better?
Vote050505: the Bethnal Greenand Bow (clickable) shortlist
• Syed Dulu(Liberal Democrat): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 1 (mentions: crime 1, education 2, immigration 0, Iraq 2, NHS 2, pensions 3, tax 1, transport 0). Says he'll win because "Lib Dems have the most councillors elected in Bethnal Green and Bow". Odds of winning 80/1.
• Ejiro Etefia(Alliance for Change: Restore Peoples Freedom!): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 0. Odds of winning nil.
• Shahagir Faruk(Conservative): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 1 (mentions: crime 2, education 1, immigration 2, Iraq 0, NHS 1, pensions 1, tax 1, transport 2). Says he'll win because "in a recent council by-election we won our first Tower Hamlets council seat". Odds of winning 12/1.
• John Foster(Green): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 0. Odds of winning infinitesimal.
• George Galloway(Respect-Unity Coalition): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 2 (mentions: crime 0, education 10, immigration 2, Iraq 12, NHS 8, pensions 7, tax 4, transport 1, Oona King 20). Says he'll win because "Respect topped the poll at the recent European elections in Bethnal Green and Bow". Odds of winning 2/1.
• Oona King(Labour): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 2 (mentions: crime 4, education 5, immigration 0, Iraq 0, NHS 2, pensions 4, tax 2, transport 0, George Galloway 0). Says she'll win because "there is a very real risk that you could end up with a Tory MP here". Odds of winning 4/9 fav.
• Celia Pugh(Independent): Doorstep visits 0. Leaflets received 0. Odds of winning nil.
I've made my mind up but, go on, who would you pick if you lived here?
Whether forecast
1975: A new set of weather symbols is introduced, still magnetic but a good deal more realistic. Now there are clouds that look like clouds, raindrops that looks like raindrops and a sun that looks like it was drawn by a 4 year old (the symbols were in fact created by Mark Allen, a 22 year old graphic designer from the Norwich College of Art). Perfectly simple, but simply perfect.
The best greyhound stadium in East London is in Walthamstow (and not, as you might expect, in Barking). Crowds flock here three nights a week to watch the dogs, to eat and drink, and to lose large sums of money. Walthamstow Stadium dates back to 1933, built on the site of an old football ground by local bookie William Chandler, and the multi million pound business is still owned and managed by his descendants. The stadium's art deco frontage is most impressive, especially the giant scoreboard, although the architecture inside is a little more utilitarian. And it only costs six quid to get in.
Each race is usually no more than one circuit of the track and is over in a matter of seconds, so you have to be careful not to blink and miss the result. This action photograph captures the final moments of race number three, in which I'd bet on dog number 2 (Hope For Gold) at the suggestion of the Sporting Life's finest tipsters. Look, there's dog number 2 in the blue coat over by the far rail, nosing inexorably towards the finishing post. Unfortunately, as those of you brought up on "Spot the ball" competitions will have realised, the spectators at the bottom of this photo are turned to the right, watching the real race leaders already zooming off into the distance. This is alas a shot of the last three dogs limping into oblivion, with my dog right bringing up the rear in sixth place. If there were a sound effect to accompany this picture it would be the faint whimper of a thin white betting slip being ripped into tiny pieces.
I've not played before. Can you ease me in gently? Sure. Have a go at this dg Mini-SudokuTM puzzle.
I had a lovely piece about favicons prepared for this morning. Favicons are those tiny 16x16 graphics that you probably see displayed in your browser's address bar or in your list of bookmarks on certain websites. I spent last night preparing a tiny clickable gallery of 49 favicons from blogs that I like. It took me ages to locate as many as 49 favicons and to save each one as a tiny jpeg or gif and to make them all clickable, but the final montage looked really rather impressive. Or at least it did in Firefox. And then I checked my handiwork in Internet Explorer and I was mortified to discover that 40 of the miniature works of art were suddenly unreadable, replaced instead by the 'red cross of death'. And it seemed pointless to put up a post that most of you wouldn't be able to read, so what a complete waste of time all my coding last night was. Thank you Mr Gates. Here are the only 9 favicons (out of 49) that display properly in IE:
9%
2005
Vote050505: Election stats
George Galloway (Respect) 15,801 [36%] (↑36%)
Vote050505: the morning after
050505 quiz: You're probably aware of the "four 4s" puzzle in which four 4s are used to make a series of calculations with various answers. If not, see here. Today, in honour of 05/05/05, I offer the "five 5s" puzzle.
