Looking Out To Sea

The International Conference on Functional Programming (ICFP) is taking place this week in Edinburgh. A substantial group of attendees are Haskell programmers and researchers, so it seemed a good idea to organise a Hackathon to work on libraries, infrastructure tools and various bits that everybody can use.

Eric Kow was the driving force behind this, and he managed to get us use of the conference facilities on Sunday, while there were a couple of workshops happening elsewhere in the building.

We didn’t have anywhere definite arranged for Saturday, so I went scouting a couple of weeks ago and identified a couple of places that would be suitable. I emailed and phoned Henderson’s and they weren’t horrified by the idea. We spent the day there, making sure to buy enough coffees to keep the management happy. There were 8 or 9 of us at the busiest point and we got some pretty amused/strange looks from other customers: a crowded table of people all with laptops open, ignoring each other…

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© Brett Holman

In the evening we went out restaurant-hunting, which I don’t recommend in these circumstances — 9 people, Saturday night, Edinburgh festival, centre of town, no booking. I tried calling Calistoga (their number was still in my phone) as they’re both spacious and hidden from the tourists but they couldn’t take us either. We eventually found an Indian restaurant that would take us, so we idled in the pub across the road while they got ready for us.

On Sunday we were using the ICFP conference facilities, deep in the bowels of the Royal College of Physicians on Queen Street. It was a nice room, with little groups of tables, plenty of extension blocks for powering laptops, a flip chart and a projector. We even had wifi, though the networking infrastructure died a few times from heavy use. We were running off a separate system from the rest of the conference centre and their wireless access died, so there was an influx of random conference-goers looking for net access, which brought our wifi to its knees too. I had felt slightly guilty about taking people to a cafe with dodgy wifi the day before, but in fact the conference centre had an even less reliable connection! :-)

My sincere thanks to the staff of Henderson’s for putting up with us, to Graeme Hutton and Philip Wadler for getting us a room in the conference venue on Sunday, to Eric for doing all his organisation and to everybody who actually came along.

I’m putting a call out to everyone that attended to let me know what they did and so on. More updates when I hear back from them.

We’ve been pretty rubbish at doing stuff in the Festival this year. We’ve seen a couple of things and only managed that because Helen’s dad arranged everything. In the last fortnight we saw:

• Looking for Eric

  This doesn’t really count as a Festival event because it’s just a film which was on at the Filmhouse. But it was really good so I’m putting it here.

  It’s got Eric Cantona guest starring as Eric Cantona, as the fairy godmother/spirit guide for a struggling postman. It’s directed by Ken Loach, and is that typical triumph-over-adversity plot which makes for funny and warming cinema.

• Polly Paulusma et al.

  An acoustic night at Medina, and all the acts were completely unknown to me. Polly headlining and support from various others including local newbies Mayhew. I’m sure I recognised two of the band members.

• Nick Harper

  The second unknown. I really enjoyed his show, though I’m easily drawn to an artist who’ll sing the intro to a song unaccompanied while restringing their guitar. He played with just an acoustic guitar, and a mixture of floaty, shoegazing songs and angry, energetic songs.

  He was a bit pissed and very garrulous, but wasn’t nearly as drunk and annoying as some of the audience. I can kind of forgive Helen and Ken not enjoying themselves so much because of the twerps sitting behind, stomping out of time on the ricketty seats. I had a lot of fun though.

Have you seen any interesting new musicians lately?

I’ve just come to the end of Derek Robinson’s Goshawk Squadron, a sort of Catch 22 for First World War pilots in the Royal Flying Corps.

It’s a short book that drops the reader straight into the scene: an airfield in France, some miles behind the Western Front; unreliable planes; barely-trained pilots; jolly good chaps. It’s about well-educated English fellows who like cricket and wanted to do medicine and couldn’t dream of shooting someone in the back or taking part in something that’s not a fair fight. (Think Lieutenant George from Blackadder.) And how these men learn that war isn’t a fair fight and die regardless.

It’s not a harrowing book. There is no great trauma or emotional knife that gets twisted inside you. The characters drift through the book in a surreal manner very similar to the action of Catch 22. But slowly the force of the story picks you up and carries you aloft. So the inevitable fall at the end still leaves you a bit winded. It’s a completely compelling book. I’ve had trouble putting it down lately. Now it’s done and I don’t really want to read anything else until I’ve recovered a bit.

Another book down! I am now officially either a Terminator or a Cylon, though I never saw a Terminator relaxing with a good book so we’ll go with Cylon for now. (For context, see this comment.)

The latest book was The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde. (Is that just like Ford? Or is it supposed to be pronounced Effin’ Ford?) It’s a light-hearted comedy detective novel, with little shots of science fiction and surreal horror. Robert Rankin meets Lewis Carroll and Douglas Adams.

I read Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho a few years ago. (I definitely recommend it but it’s categorically not for the squeamish or faint-of-heart.) Many chapters are devoted to the main character’s analysis of Whitney Houston and Huey Lewis albums. These chapters meant nothing to me, though I understand from further reading that they were almost entirely fictional. Whole chapters devoted to demonstrating the narrator’s unreliable nature were completely lost on me.

Dodo ancora in viaggio!
©

Reading The Eyre Affair was similarly awkward. The central character is a literary detective, in the sense that she solves crimes to do with books, as well as being a detective in a book. There is a lot of detail about books in the alternate world of The Eyre Affair, but I’ve never read any of the books! What a doofus I am! You’ll get a lot more out of this book if you’ve read Jane Eyre and maybe Martin Chuzzlewit before. Alas I have not.

But this is not a criticism, except of me being ill-read. I enjoyed the book a lot. It was alternately subtle and slapstick. If you like witty wordplay and easy heroics this is your book. If you enjoy characters with silly names doing outlandish jobs, this is your book. If you love villains who revel in their own lack of morals, and know just when to employ a mad cackle, this is your book. If you enjoy time travel in fast cars and characters from novels coming to life, this is your book. And if you like dodos, how would you like one as a pet?

Last month Helen’s mum picked up a copy of Quicksilver for a book group, but chose the wrong Quicksilver. (I don’t know which one she was supposed to buy, but I can only hope it wasn’t quite as long as this one!). She passed along to us the one she hadn’t meant to buy — Quicksilver by Neal Stephenson.

I enjoyed Quicksilver in the same way I used to enjoy Saturday afternoons watching the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles. There’s nothing to beat a good fictionalised retelling of history. And Neal Stephenson’s stories are tinged with enough science fiction that when you read up on some fact or other and discover it to be true it makes things that much more fun.

The story is set in the mid-17th century — the newly-crowned Charles II and the newly-created Royal Society are important features of the story. The events of 1660-odd onward are recounted from the view of a not-brilliant Natural Philosopher, a vagabond and an escaped Turkish slave.

Apart from a much greater familiarity with Restoration-era England and the European royal family (let’s face, it is just one family) I also picked up more interesting facts like the origin of the word “dollar” and the surgical method for removing bladder stones. Which, not coincidentally, are also known as calculi.

The book is exciting — Plague! Fire! Invasion! — and devious, held together with encrypted letters and metaphors. There are interludes of absurdity, such as chapters written in the style of a Restoration comedy, and others devoted to slight-veiled descriptions of important scientific discoveries. The events of the story never seem to stray too far from reality.

If you’re looking for something engrossing, irreverent and enriching to get your mind around, this might well be the book you need.

Despite being over 900 pages long, this book comprises only the first part Neal Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle series. I’m really looking forward to getting the next two, The Confusion and The System of the World.

Busy weekend. On Friday night I left work and went straight to The Shore for a pub meet — Greener Leith and Green Drinks teaming up, and we took over the largest chunk of the pub. It was fun and though I didn’t meet many Leith people it was a nice evening.

On Saturday we had a very slow start. The plan had been an early rise and get a final coat of paint on two walls in the living room, and make a start on walls in the turret/alcove. But the previous night’s revelry slowed down things a bit, and then lack of planning (ie, not enough paint) meant we didn’t start until after we’d eaten lunch. Also, I saw a bush-baby in the peeling paint after we removed the curtain rail. That beats seeing Cthulhu in the Nutella, I think.

We did get some good stuff done round the window though the walls are looking as patchy as ever. On Sunday morning we did the biggest wall and then went out to Roseleaf to meet Gemma, David and Graeme. Spent the afternoon wandering from pub to pub. The Halt and Mops Malt and Hops and then Sofi’s, then up the hill to La Favorita for takeaway pizza which we ate in the flat. Naturally, we have no photos cos we’re dead organised innit.