Promises promises

OK, so I don't have time for a decent post today, because this is just a brief window I have before jaunting off to a rehearsal and possibly a movie tonight, after which I most likely won't be going anywhere near a computer (until tomorrow). But I said it would be a week of posts in a row, so just consider this me meeting my obligation in a technical if unsatisfying fashion.

In news in brief, my brother is in Barcelona mistakenly ordering plates of cheddar cheese and I am jealous, and I am becoming increasingly anxious about by ongoing failure thus far to even see (let alone play) 'Doom 3'. I must rectify this.

I have started reading 'The Confusion', the second epic volume in the Baroque Cycle by Neal Stephenson. As prequels (because in a lot of ways it's a prequel to 'Cryptonomicon') go, it's pretty monstrous. As with the first book ('Quicksilver') it has an unfortunate Umberto Eco like tendency to fall into overly dry and lengthy passages of which the primary purpose is seemingly to demonstrate how much research the author has done, or how much knowledge he has. Some of this is really interesting, some isn't. (Lengthy chapters on the workings and potential exploitations of the 17th century monetary system, anyone?) But the book is well and truly saved by its overall funniness, particularly whenever the character of Half-Cocked Jack Shaftoe, King of the Vagabonds, is about. At the end of the first book he is a made a galley slave of the Turks while going completely bonkers with a seemingly incurable disease; at the start of this one he has miraculously recovered his senses and is finding out from people what he has been up to lately, and the first 30 or so pages of the book are damned funny. I really like how Stephenson writes these 17th century people in a 17th century setting with sort of modern day sarcastic bastard attitudes. A conversation between Jack and one of his fellow galley slaves for example:

"Thank you for not making a scene," Moseh said, "it is important that we maintain harmony on the starboard oar."
"Those are our oar mates?"
"Yes, and the fifth is in town pursuing his trade."
"Well, why is it so important to remain on good terms with them?"
"Other than that we must share a crowded bench with them eight months out of the year, you mean?"
"Yes."
"We must pull together if we are to maintain parity with the larboard oar."
"The galley will-"
"Yes, yes, it'll go in circles. But why should we care?
"Aside from the skin will be whipped off our ribcages by that bull's pizzle?"
"I take that as a given."

Ah, comedy. 700 plus pages to go, I largely look forward to it.

Right, dinner time. Mmm, dinner.