November 12th, 2003


What's Opera, Doc?

So the other day I decided to actually buy a copy of the Opera web browser, because I was annoyed by the banner ads in the free version but even more annoyed by IE crashing my iMac every ten minutes.

Having got the registration code for the new version, I went to download my copy. Quick download, quick install. However, when I came to actually launch the application, it told me "This application requires MacOS 8.6 or higher and CarbonLib 1.5 or higher." Well, I'm running MacOS 9.1, so I went to find out what the hell CarbonLib is when it's at home, and discovered that it's some kind of software development kit for the Mac, and it's freely downloadable. So I download that (which takes about 20 minutes because it's huge) and install it, and reboot the machine, and have another go at running Opera ... only to get exactly the same error message.

Opera's website (which is utterly broken in IE on the Mac) doesn't, as far as I can tell, give any more detailed information about requirements for running Opera 6 than to say what version of MacOS is needed.

Opera's website also, however, doesn't seem to want to give up anything resembling a tech support email address, except to registered users. Who in order to access this service need to enter their username and password, which they get when they register, which they can only do by launching the bloody application.

Anybody have any suggestions? Am I missing something obvious?
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It's just not working...

Two more rejection emails -- one for a charity Information Officer job in London that I didn't really think I'd get, and one for a more editorialish job in St Ives that I kind of hoped they'd at least interview me for. Ho hum.

Another finished application (for local government admin job in Peterborough) to send off today, and another one (for trainee fundraiser job) to write tonight.

Ooh, and it's Wednesday, which is CEN Jobsearch day, so when I go to the Post Office to post this application at lunchtime I can see if there's anything else good to apply for.

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The joy of fecks

Ah, the childish delight of using powerful search functions to scour vast databases of painstakingly keyed and indexed sixteenth-century texts for the words "Fuck", "Fucker", and "Fuck't".

While pursuing this puerile pastime -- why do we call such things "puerile", when puella is just as likely as puer to do 'em? -- I came across this passage in an account of a woman's bizarre dreams during pregnancy:

At the same time (ouer and aboue) shee thought that in stead of a boye, (which she desired) she was deliuerd and brought to bed of one of these kistrell birds, called a wind-fucker.

[From "The life and godly education from his childhood of that thrice famous clarke, and worthie Orator and Poet Gabriell Haruey", in Haue vvith you to Saffron-vvalden. Or, Gabriell Harueys hunt is vp]

Now, I'm sure I remember hoiho mentioning a while back that kites (as in, the things on strings that you trail dispiritedly across fields in a desperate attempt to get them to fly) used to be called "wind-fuckers". So I now wonder if he was thinking of the bird (hoiho thinking of birds? surely not!), or if the term was transferred from bird to bundle-of-sticks-and-canvas, or what.

Is it time to go home yet?
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I'm in such a scratchy mood. Everybody and everything is irritating me at the moment. The colour of things. The sounds other people's typing makes. The sounds my own typing makes.

I mean, you know it's bad when you feel edgy and slightly nauseous at the sight of the marginally-oversized dots on the 'i's in a font. And when two seconds' wait for a webpage to load makes you want to put an axe through the monitor.

Apologies to anybody I've snapped at for absolutely nothing today. I will try to calm down.
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