| Tuesday, February 04, 2003 |
 | Things to do in Sweden when you're dead; our foreign correspondent brings news of Sweden's state-owned alcohol monopoly. It's an interesting idea - rather than taxing the free importation and distribution of alcohol through premises licensed for off-sales, just take control of the whole darn thing. It also has the advantage that it makes drinking much harder - if the offy is only open 9-5, Monday to Friday, you don't find yourself, presumably, wandering down to the local 24 hour place to get a carefully-concealed bottle of white wine at 2am because your party has run out of booze but you can still walk.
It is, of course, a block on free trade, but then if Europe had embraced free trade whole-heartedly we wouldn't be the nanny-needing sissy-boys that the warbloggers have so correctly identified us as being. Then again, it turns out that, as a nation, Sweden could drink any steak-eating New Yorker pantywaist under the table. 46 litres of spirits a year? Dude!
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| Monday, February 03, 2003 |
| Given the connection between weblogging and technology, it's hardly surprising that the Columbia disaster has been covered extensively and movingly. Most affecting, perhaps, of the online commentary was the Washington post's article on the Columbia's safe return, up on their site as the shuttle broke up.
Columbia Streaks Toward Florida Landing
Saturday, February 1, 2003; 8:28 AM
CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla. –– With security tighter than usual, space shuttle Columbia streaked toward a Florida touchdown Saturday to end a successful 16-day scientific research mission that included the first Israeli astronaut.
The early morning fog burned off as the sun rose, and Mission Control gave the seven astronauts the go-ahead to come home on time. "I guess you've been wondering, but you are 'go' for the deorbit burn," Mission Control radioed at practically the last minute.
Ilan Ramon, a colonel in Israel's air force and former fighter pilot, became the first man from his country to fly in space, and his presence resulted in an increase in security, not only for Columbia's Jan. 16 launch, but also for its landing. Space agency officials feared his presence might make the shuttle more of a terrorist target.
"We've taken all reasonable measures, and all of our landings so far since 9-11 have gone perfectly," said Lt. Col. Michael Rein, an Air Force spokesman.
Columbia's crew – Ramon and six Americans – completed all of their 80-plus experiments in orbit. They studied ant, bee and spider behavior in weightlessness as well as changes in flames and flower scents, and took measurements of atmospheric dust with a pair of Israeli cameras.
The 13 lab rats on board – part of a brain and heart study – had to face the guillotine following the flight so researchers could see up-close the effects of so much time in weightlessness. The insects and other animals had a brighter, longer future: the student experimenters were going to get them back and many of the youngsters planned to keep them, almost like pets.
All of the scientific objectives were accomplished during the round-the-clock laboratory mission, and some of the work may be continued aboard the international space station, researchers said. The only problem of note was a pair of malfunctioning dehumidifiers, which temporarily raised temperatures inside the laboratory to the low 80s, 10 degrees higher than desired.
Some of Columbia's crew members didn't want their time in space to end.
"Do we really have to come back?" astronaut David Brown jokingly asked Mission Control before the ride home.
NASA's next shuttle flight, a space station construction mission, is scheduled for March. The next time Columbia flies will be in November, when it carries into orbit educator-astronaut Barbara Morgan, who was the backup for Challenger crew member Christa McAuliffe in 1986.
Is it cold in here?
Taking a slightly different tack, Jack Fear, hot and chilly as a scoop of pepper ice cream, is upset. But not for the standard reasons. He's upset because these people died performing a meaningless task in antiquated technology. Because they were stuck in that antiquted technology because of the power of the industries that profit from the continued use of an obsolete, expensive and most of all dangerous technology.
This article has more.
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| The perceptive listener may be noticing slowly that my grip on sanity, generally tenuous at best, has been slipping badly lately. I blame for this a combination of American McGee's Alice and blognobrot. Allow me to clarify. For some reason, webloggers have been forcing me to think about their naughties lately. Now, for some of the more beautifully formed webloggers this is a positive pleasure. Wil Wheaton wearing naught but a slinky thong and a Klingon mask, singing a happy tune as he searches for the PAX network on an enormous remote control, will bring only pleasant dreams, of course.
But in rapid succession lately our poor headses have been forced to cope not only with lovely naked Gerard's devotion to Sleepy Sex, and a series of revelations about size and usage from another weblogger so soul-blasting that I actually can't bring myself to link to it (all I'm saying is, it's pretty small), but now Ed has broken surface to tell us about his algolagnic bloodletting. No, of course he doesn't call it that. This isn't Flowers for Frigging Algernon you know.
And I just had this stomach lined, too. Fair play and much credit to these honest explorers into what we might describe as the theory paper, though.
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| Incidentally, I did go for a walk in the snow, and saw a fox. I know that the traditional thing to do when reporting such things in a weblog is to say "yesterday, I hunted a fox", and then segue into a tale of how I hunted the fox.....with a digital camera! Do you see? DO YOU?
But no. Alas, I had no SDC with me. So instead I watched it as it wandered across the snow, trying to work out how the whole urban fox thing works. On the bright side, presumably they help to keep down other vermin, like pigeons and rats, the pigeons and rats in turn cutting down the amount of rotting food, big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite 'em, world without end, dulce et decorum est pro Sphacteria mori, that's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it. On the other hand, they do apparently tear open binbags. Or is that badgers? I've always suspected that underneath their big-arsed stripey cuteness badgers were ready to mix some pretty fucked-up shit.
Anyway. Wandered in the snow, and saw a fox. I was amazed at how close it let me get to it. We were sharing a lot, really personal stuff. They do seem to be getting tamer. I want an army of tame foxes to pull my chariot.
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