Eco WHAT!?
I started to write a while ago about the Grauniad's 'eco-homes' competition, and then shelved it because it felt too negative; and, in any case, the competition had passed (needless to say, the worst house — from an ecological point of view — won). However, people are still blogging about these houses, and it needs to be said: they are not good enough. If this is the standard British housing aspires to, we're in even deeper trouble than I thought.
Let's start out by saying this. I don't claim to be a pioneer or an ideologue or a sage. The Winter Palace is — by the Grauniad's standards at least — a fairly extreme eco-home, and I was thinking to some extent about its impact on the landscape when I built it. But I didn't use straw and clay and softwood primarily for ideological reasons. I built of straw and clay and softwood because I needed a comfortable home, and I was broke. That's why my insulation is (recycled) glass wool, not the sheepswool I would have preferred — it's less 'green', but it was cheaper. Similarly, an earth closet does have lower environmental impact than a septic tank, but it's also — much — cheaper. Mind you, I would have had an earth closet anyway, for ecological reasons, but... What I'm saying is that deep economy, not deep ecology, drove my build. Mine is more an economic house than an ecological one.
So what has this to do with the Grauniad's competition for 'the best eco-home'? Well, the Grauniad's competition, being a competition in the prestigious end of the public press, attracted mainly architects who wanted to show off their grand designs in order to attract new customers. And these are, primarily, 'grand designs', worthy of that appalling Channel 4 programme: a third of them are bloated plutocratic mansions of the hyper-rich, tinted with a very thin coat of greenwash. A third are somewhat more modest versions of the same thing. And a third, by my standards, sort-of qualify.
Making oor ane Merk
The real facts are that if 'the United Kingdom' is the 'continuing state', then in international law it is clearly, simply and unequivocally responsible for all the debts — every last penny of them. That's the law as it's been through the independence of Ireland, of the breakup of the British Empire, of Czechoslovakia, right down to Sudan last year.
If there's a 'continuing state', and Westminster has made it very clear it wishes to be a continuing state, then that state takes the debt. That isn't, of course, Scotland's bargaining position. We are willing to take on a population share of debt — but only if we also get a population share of assets, and there's no doubt the Pound Sterling is an asset.
On Clojure as a multi-user environment
Today, not having really enough to do at work, I was reading a Guy Steele and Richard Gabriel's (highly partisan) paper 'The Evolution of Lisp', and thinking about Post Scarcity Computing and about Clojure.
Lisp has failed to get traction too many times because people insisted on their own idea of what constituted a pure Lisp. Let's be clear about it, if I were designing my perfect Lisp it would be different from Clojure in a number of significant ways. Nevertheless, Clojure is more or less the best Lisp we have now, and furthermore it has traction. Furthermore, it has a number of most excellent features which, had I not been exposed to Clojure, I would not have thought of myself. So if you're going to build a post-scarcity computing environment now, Clojure is not a bad place to start.
A circular history of money
I don't know what money is, but I'll give you this nice shiny piece of metal for that loaf of bread.
Stage 1
Au tour de ma tête, more or less.
OK, so, my friend Janet got me on this blog tour thing. Thing is, I'd like to say I'm not writing these days. Much. I've got a new and demanding job, and I'm dog tired all the time. I've also got a lot of things I ought to be doing — not least, this year is Scotland's chance of independence, a chance I've been waiting for and claiming to be working for for forty years. But I'm not out on the streets campaigning, because I'm too tired.
Or so I say.
And yet, I came back to my lodgings on Monday night, sat down, and wrote three thousand words. I got up this morning at sparrow fart, and wrote another five hundred before wolfing down some breakfast and running out to work.