Gormless Anecdotes
As you know, no doubt, I can ramble on a bit. Those of you who've been in receipt of the odd e-mail can testify to this. Even when I was working and, by necessity, supposedly terse, I did have a habit of producing these longish e-mails. And it's gotten even worse, now I've some time on my hands.
Anyhow, long story short, some of these e-mails contained parables
and anecdotes. I found them amusing and some of you were polite enough
to not say otherwise. So, with lashings of hubris I've decided to
clean some of them up and publish them on the 'stuff' part of the
ZOIS web-site. Of course, not all of them will appear,
and some of the people involved have been, well, anonymised. And some
things, it has to be said, will never appear. For instance that time I
woke up on some strange floor with the word 'mine' lipsticked on my
chest. Best leave the rest unsaid.
The Indole Chemistry of
Bananas
Challenged by his daughter, Martin explores the
Indole Chemistry of Bananas. He half remembered some Biochemistry he learnt
as an undergraduate and later, while he was in hospital, he regurgitated
this at a baffled clinician. It earned him some kind of reputation. But
could he remember more; could he research this subject further on the
Internet? Could he explain it simply? Cockermouth, 15th March 2011.
A longish tale of Martin's adventures in police
work; it details my somewhat peripheral role in a murder investigation.
This all happened a long time ago in a Northern City that will obviously
remain nameless. I'll try and keep the rest of it anonymous too.
Cockermouth, 30 January, 2011
Martin is not be able to do the mad-man
contracting stuff that he used to, all that running around. He does help
out with stuff around Cockermouth, though. One of the things that he does
is be a Projectionist. Cockermouth, 5 December, 2010.
The
Flush Bug, a periodic event that effected one of the machines that was
worked on while at Shandon, had an career changing impact on Martin. That
impact was not in the way that was expected at the time, though.
Cockermouth, 7th September, 2010.
Martin writes a program and realises that he
didn't do a particularly good job. Langå, 18th August 2010.
Martin Sullivan goes on a course to Llandudno to learn something useful
and while there meets an origami artist of some renown. Well, somebody who
was better at it than him, anyhow. Copenhagen, 18th August 2010.
Martin had to get with the flow as far as the social
aspects of his job went. This ment large to unfeasibly large amounts of
fermented vegitable juice on several occassions. And from time-to-time it
didn't go all that well. Langå, 21st August 2010.
I Write Like David Foster
Wallace
It would appear that Martin Sullivan writes like
David Foster Wallace, a man of immense and graceful prose. He's not sure
that that's a good thing though, for he's read some of Wallaces's stuff.
Langå, 22nd August 2010.
Apart from a relatively short detour, painting a
toilet, Martin's first job after graduating was as Computer Programmer for
Unilever Research. So much for all that Biology. While there he was
peripheral to some interesting product development. Cockermouth, 28th
August 2010.
~Z~