Weekly Wrap 125: Intelligence and infection

It’s hard to believe that just two weeks ago I was dealing with snow because this week, Monday 22 to Sunday 28 October 2012, included a day of working at Manly beach.

As you’ll read in a moment, it also included a series of digs at Australia’s law enforcement and intelligence communities. And it wrapped up on Saturday with the discovery that I’ve been suffering from a rather nasty throat infection. Which explains why I was so tired and irritable.

Penicillin to the rescue!

Podcasts

Articles

Media Appearances

Corporate Largesse

None.

The Week Ahead

The week begins tonight with a midnight recording for this week’s Patch Monday podcast. Then I have to complete a story for Technology Spectator by 1000 AEDT before wrapping up Patch Monday. And then I catch the train to Sydney.

I’m then staying in Sydney overnight so I can be at Microsoft’s Tuesday morning breakfast briefing on Windows Phone 8, and after that the rest of the week is as yet unplanned. Chaos is my friend. Stand by.

[Photo: Freelancing, a picture of my working environment on Thursday. That’s the Steyne Hotel overlooking the beach at Manly in Sydney.]

I rarely remember my dreams…

Photo of chinese Lucky Cat with waving arm

… but last night I did. I had to present a TV news program and it was going very, very badly. Interpretations, please!

It was my first day as presenter of an established program called News Tower. The presenters’ desk was stupid. Me and my overly-blonde female co-host had to peer out between mock embattlements as if our News Tower was a medieval castle.

When I got my copy of the script just minutes before show time it was hand-written on scraps of paper, and I could barely read the appalling writing. The pages were all out of order, and the text was over-written with corrections and arrows showing how the sequence had been changed. When I asked whether the Autocue copy was typed OK, I got a blank look as if “Autocue” and “typing” were unknown words. And indeed, the camera lens watching me was naked: no cueing system could be seen.

Continue reading “I rarely remember my dreams…”