Friday 7th April, 2023

More early morning shit to sort out on the MacBook Air work mule. coreduetd is giving me grief. I’ve little understanding of what coreduetd actually is, apart from it treats the CPU as though it’s a frying pan.

It’s not that essential. It runs in the background to help with the sharing of content across devices. Each morning it fires into action and slows down my routine.

Force Quit doesn’t force it to quit at first. You need to try around half a dozen times. After almost a week of this runaround each morning, I dug a little deeper to try and permanently remove coreduetd.

This isn’t advisable. I wimped out and played another game of Force Quit for five minutes.

I was on something of a tech roll. I got Chat GPT to knock out some code for me. It did the job, achieving the slight site redesign that I wanted.

Be fearful, developers.

My plan was for another short run. But my calf felt fine and so I thought I would risk it around the 8km King of Clapham Common route.

I was out of running socks until I put another wash on. All that I had as an option was a pair of ridiculous white towelling socks. I looked like an extra in a Wham! video.

It was quiet around the Common at 8am. The only commotion was in a bush as a huge FUCK OFF crow flew away with a discarded G&T tinnie in his beak.

It’t a little early for festivities, Beakie.

Chin chin.

The Rapha Boys and Girls were all rolling out at various points around the Common. I love Rapha, but I’m not sure that I would want to ride as part of a self-confessed Rapha tribe.

Also noticeable was the his ‘n’ hers suitcase pushers heading for the various tube stations. Bank Holiday couples were pushing along their trollies, escaping S Ldn for no doubt hopes of somewhere better.

You’ll FAIL, folks.

I found my rhythm for the back half the run. I felt strong and was confident of a fast time. Strava was the bringer of bad news, displaying not even a half decent time back at base.

The next task was to try and arrange the collection of a settee and a chair back in the bloody Estuary Wilds. Various companies were keen to do the deed this morning for £200+.

The Council quoted £66 for a couple of weeks. I think we can live with it for a fortnight. I say we, I’m nowhere to be seen…

Robert Elms played The Jean Genie, referencing the 50th birthday of Aladdin Sane. I’ve been thinking about the Southbank exhibition quite a lot over the past 24 hours. I’m tempted to return for a second visit.

Cover to Cover was Wild World: Cat Stevens Vs Jimmy Cliff. Cat won, of course. If it had beed down to me then I would have put Maxi Priest up for the vote.

Album of the Day: Bill Evans Trio – Sunday At The Village Vanguard

There’s a beautiful, rich old analogue sound throughout this recording. The bass playing is highly hypnotic. The background chitter chatter strangely adds to the atmosphere of something quite special. It was only when the album was two thirds in that I realised there were no vocals. This was another bonus.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I caught the second half of Millwall Vs Luton. I had half hoped that it all might kick off, mid-80’s hoolie style. I’d LOVE to see the Lions in the Premier League next year. That would be fun to watch from a distance. From a VERY safe distance.

Dulwich had a Good Friday afternoon game. I was a little delayed in cycling over. I was caught behind a cargo bike that was buried beneath a mountain of cardboard boxes.

Electric scooters seemed to be everywhere around Camberwell.

I then passed a fella rocking the classic late 90’s cycle messenger look. Blimey. I’ve not seen that for a while. Fixie culture was quite the thing a couple of decades ago. If I had to make a choice then I’d be Team Fixie rather than squeaky clean Team Rapha.

I locked up the BTwin outside Champion Hill. Within seconds I heard the chant of:

“FUCK the Tories, FUCK the Tories.”

You don’t hear that back at Wivenhoe Town.

An indicator of what was to come could be seen outside the ground: a discarded crate of beer that had been necked outside, alongside a couple of squeezed tubes of suncream.

It was a S Ldn SCORCHIO, with alcohol raising the temperature further still. There was even a bare chested bloke in the ground.

Steady the buffers.

It was a crap game. Dulwich and Cheshunt are both scrapping at the foot of the table in a dog fight to avoid the drop. The style of play reflected this.

I had no idea that Craig Edwards the manager of Cheshunt. We stopped watching Dulwich back in 2007 when the then Dulwich manager made watching the pink ‘n’ blue boys such a chore with his style of play.

Dulwich scraped a 1-0 win. Job done. I fired off around 200 snaps for Buzz with the f717. I hope to be shooting with the PEN F when the women are at home on Sunday.

I was back in the flat in time to watch Sunderland Vs Hull City.

Football. Bloody hell, etc. What cracking game. I kinda miss The Championship, I kinda don’t.

I left both MacBook Airs updating yet more OS installs overnight. Hopefully this might fix the annoying coreduetd issue.

Saturday is all about PEN F delivery day, and Forest.


Links for Friday 7th April, 2023

Protesters greet Charles III as he hands symbolic pennies to the poor in York ceremony | Morning Star

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