Washing Machine Blues. They delivered it yesterday. Brilliant. I connected it up, and ran it on a 95 degree empty cycle, as recommended. It leaks. The deliverymen scuffed the drainage hose as they brought it in, making a water-sized hole. So I called the shop this morning, they put me onto Hotpoint's customer service, where I spoke to Smug Tony, who offered me an appointment a week on Thursday for a machine I didn't damage, and which I haven't yet been able to use. Not acceptable, I told them. I said I would talk to the shop again and get them to take the machine back. 'But the shop has handed this matter over to us,' said Smug Tony. I pointed out that Hotpoint customer service wasn't proving to be any use to me, so I would reserve the right to talk to the people who sold me the machine.
So I called the shop again, and insisted I was a very unhappy customer, and would they please give me a new washing machine before the weekend, and take the old one away. They're coming tomorrow afternoon. :o)

(pen) So that's what the ex-prime minister is up to these days. Glad you told him what's what.

More on the action - the university I work at was evacuated today because someone set fire to the curtains in the lecture hall where a meeting of students on whether to strike or not was held. I don't think these kids know what they're doing, really.

Goodness, what a long sentence. What is everyone else doing for the weekend?

(nights) I'll tell you tomorrow.

[nights] Thinking about Kalman filters as feedback controllers, control systems as an alternative to utility functions, and artificial intelligence as a doomed enterprise; and on Sunday, attending a memorial service for someone I knew a little and admired a lot, and cursing the railways for not having run a reliable Sunday service from Norwich to London at any time in the last twenty-five years.