I don’t normally post things like this, but really, this is almost too good to be true!

I’m relatively fanatical about 24, and currently greatly enjoying series 5. Today, whilst surfing, I found that Amazon are offering each of the first five series’ box sets for £16.97. That’s an incredible price – less than £1 per hour of entertainment, and far below half price – and some series even have third-party sellers letting them go for even less! The very latest up-to-date prices are shown below.

So whether you’re a long-term 24 fan, or simply a fan-to-be (and almost everyone’s one or the other), get your orders in quick. Preferably via these links, which help support the site:

For those of you, like me, who are having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that the seventh season of the West Wing will be the last, you may be heartened to know that today’s G2 has a couple of articles (here and here) about the show’s demise. And me being somewhat behind, it means I still have 36 episodes still to go. But with 118 gone already, that’s no so comforting.

There’s rumours flying around all over the place, though, that the final episode will give a proper send-off to the late John Spencer, which would be right and fitting. Some would says it’s too late, and that the show should have ended when Sorkin left, but I say The West Wing still can die with dignity. Let’s hope it does.

The software that powers this very site, WordPress, is three years old today. I’ve been using it for over a third of its lifespan now (there’s a scary thought), and for my needs, it’s the best blogging software I’ve come across. I can’t give a full and completely fair review of every blogging tool out there, but as a previous user of three, I can offer some (possibly outdated) opinions on those.

The good ol’ days of The LBSC were powered by Movable Type. Admittedly, I’m commenting on an old version of Movable Type, and that’s not entirely fair, but I didn’t particularly like it. It’s an incredibly powerful tool, but just somewhat over-powerful, and not terribly easy-to-use. It’s not particularly pretty, either. But the main thing which stopped me using the Movable Type software over here is that it seemed incredibly difficult to install, and it’s emphasised that no support is offered for the free version. Given that I originally hoped to have multiple authors on here, too, Movable Type had a financial disincentive compared with other blogging tools.

As a complete novice, I was taken in by Blogger. This is designed as an incredibly simple blogging tool to use, and there’s no question that it fulfills that requirement. It’s literally click-and-publish blogging, which can be hosted either by Blogger themselves, or can be published to your own host. I used the latter method, and it worked well for some considerable time. Eventually, however, I became frustrated with the limitations of Blogger. It is an incredibly difficult , if not impossible, tool to modify, as it is entirely run by Google, and so outside of my personal control. So if I want to display something in a slightly different way, if Blogger doesn’t have a built-in expression for it, then that’s too bad. Also, every time I made a simple change to the site template, the whole site had to be re-uploaded, because Blogger serves static pages. When you only have a handful of posts, this is no problem. But when you’ve got a wealth of them, it becomes a very real issue, and it can take extraordinary lengths of time to correct the smallest of spelling errors in the sidebar, for example.

So after a while, I moved over to WordPress. I haven’t looked back since. Its got almost everything I need built in, I can tweak the PHP to my heart’s content to do cool things, and there is a huge amount of support available when I get stuck, from the fantastic community who’ve helped me out time and again, to the codex when you just can’t remember the parameters for a particular command. The latest version even looks pretty visually stunning. And on the occasions I think WordPress is missing something, there’s almost always a plugin available to fix the problem. Most recently, the new built-in spam filter has made the pretty huge headache of comment spam on the site a complete non-issue. And all of this for free.
If I was facing the decision of what tool to use again today, there is no doubt in my mind that I would’ve chosen WordPress. I’m unsure whether I’d have gone for the Blogger-style easy hosted set-up offered by WordPress.com, or set up the site myself, as I have done now (which is remarkably easy to do), but WordPress would undboutledly have been the tool of choice. And with the flexibility now in-built to bring posts over from a number of other blogging services, there’s really no reason for anybody not to swtich, even if they already have a blog elsewhere.

So Happy Birthday WordPress. May you continue to grow and develop, and make my life ever-easier.

A book I’ve mentioned before on the site, enormously enjoyable, is now available to download free in PDF format. It actually has been available for a while, and I’ve been meaning to post about it on here for ages, but never quite got round to it… Until now.

For those of you wondering why Mr Adams has decided to give it away for nout, I shall blatantly steal the explanation from the above link:

Frankly, this is the hardest book in the world to market. When it first came out in hardcover, booksellers couldn’t decide if it was fiction or nonfiction. Was it philosophy or religion? It’s a religion/science book written by a cartoonist, using hypnosis techniques in the writing. It’s a thought experiment. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever read. How do you sell something that can’t be explained?

Nonetheless, the hardcover version of God’s Debris was a solid success. I lost count of how many people e-mailed me to say it was the best book they’ve ever read. By way of comparison, I’ve published over thirty Dilbert™ books, two of them number-one New York Times best-sellers, but I’ve never gotten the kind of excited responses that I did from readers of God’s Debris.

Still, God’s Debris is emphatically not for everyone. Although there’s no sex or violence, I don’t recommend it for readers under fourteen unless a parent has screened it. And if you don’t like to have your perceptions challenged, this book isn’t for you. However, if you like a good book-induced buzz now and then, I think you’ll agree that the price was right.

It’s free because it’s designed to be discussed with people who have also read it. I’m confident that some percentage of the free e-book readers will be inspired to buy a physical book for friends or for their own collection. And if you like it, you might want to try the sequel, The Religion War, available only in hardcover. At the end of the e-book you’ll find some links to Amazon.com for your impulse-buying pleasure.

And for those of you wondering what it’s about, let me enlighten you via the same method…

Imagine that you meet a very old man who—you eventually realize—knows literally everything. Imagine that he explains for you the great mysteries of life—quantum physics, evolution, God, gravity, light, psychic phenomenon, and probability—in a way so simple, so novel, and so compelling that it all fits together and makes perfect sense. What does it feel like to suddenly understand everything? God’s Debris isn’t the final answer to the Big Questions. But it might be the most compelling vision of reality you will ever read. The thought experiment is this: Try to figure out what’s wrong with the old man’s explanation of reality. Share the book with your smart friends then discuss it later while enjoying a beverage.

Now go download it (or, if you prefer, buy the hardback), read it, and think about it. You will enjoy it.

Ben Folds is an incredibly talented guy.  How many other artists have the talent, and whose songs have the versatility, to perfrom solo sets one day, in a three-piece rock band the next, and with a 90-piece orchestera and operatic tenor the next?  Let alone do all three on the same night, and still have room for improvisation.  With a whole orchestra (much to the clear and amusing distress of the conductor).  And do all of them excellently.  Now that is pretty incredible.

This is the DVD of Ben performing locally composed arrangements of some of his most popular tracks with the West Australian Symphony Orchestera, live in Perth.  At first, the sound takes a little bit of getting used to – to go from Ben’s typical small-band or piano solo sets to ones with a full orchestral backing requires some mental adjustment.  But once you get into the swing of it, this is one of the best sets I’ve heard from him.  Yes, it’s very different to, say, Ben Folds Live, but to hear his tracks played in this way is an experience.  And requires a fairly good sound system!

For Ben Folds fans, it’s fantastic.  But, really, it’s not the ideal kind of material for the uninitiated, simply because it’s so different to his normal act.  But it’s still absolutely amazing.

This is the follow-up to the previously reviewed Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade, and follows the same format as its predecessor: It is a collection of Browning’s How to… columns from the Grauny’s Weekend magazine. Hence, if you don’t like the columns, you won’t like this book. And there’s also a fairly high chance that you’re not human.

Never push… is one of the few books I’ve read in a long time that’s genuinely laugh-out-loud funny which, whilst good for me, is perhaps not such a good thing if you happen to live with me – unless, of course, you like the sound of apparently inexplicable hysterical laughter at random moments, and public book readings from some seemingly crazed idiot. This is why it’s so crucial that you buy this book now, before anyone else you know gets their sitcky mitts on a copy – it loses all humour when read aloud by someone who can’t stifle their continuous giggling.

It is a truly excellent book, absolutely first class standard, thanks to Browning’s wonderful sense of wit. It also happens to be perfect for reading now and again in odd moments, because each ‘How to…’ is only 500 words or so long, and so only takes a couple of minutes to enjoy. Though stemming the laughter can take longer. But, in terms of reviewing the book, it’s difficult to know whether you‘ll like it, because I don’t know you and your sense of humour. Having said that, the vast majority of people I’ve inflicted my copy on have loved it. But, as a service to you, dear reader, here’s an extract so you can decide for yourself whether it’s your kind of thang…

How to… use a lift

Calling a lift is easy. Simply press the button and wait. And then press the button again. Many lifts work on the pressure you exert on the call button, so hitting it a hundred times will make it arrive a lot faster. Before you get into the lift, it’s as well to check whether it’s going up or down. There’s nothing more embarrassing than saying confidently to a packed lift ‘Ground floor please’ and then feeling the lift rocketing upwards.

Getting into a crowded lift is like entering a mini party. Everyone’s already settled in there and when the doors open they all look at you as if to say, ‘You’re not coming in here.’ Just take a big breath, step in and then say something to break the ice such as, ‘You’re probably wondering why I called you all here.’ This difficult entry moment explains why even when the lift is the size of your living room and there’s only one small lady in it, the tendency is to wait for the next one. If the same lady is in the next one, it could be her job to operate the lift, so just get in and stop being so silly.

In a crowded lift it’s very bad manners ever to face anybody head on. You should always try and be at least 90 degrees to your neighbours so that an aerial view would look as if you were all finding your way around a particularly tight maze. Never talk to someone in a lift unless you know which button they’ve pressed and you can tailor your conversation to the exact second. Restrict yourself to saying ‘Morning’. In a lift it’s acceptable to say this at any time of night or day, because you’re in your own little world without daylight. The other word everyone wants to say in a lift, especially when the little bell pings, is ‘lingerie’. Don’t say this unless you’re with people you know and love or you’re absolutely positive the other person is getting out.

You’re allowed to look at a stranger in a lift a maximum of once, then you must look elsewhere for the duration of your trip. That’s why it’s a relief when everyone gets out and leaves you alone in the lift. You’re then free to pull faces in the mirror, say ‘lingerie’ loudly and pass wind extravagantly. Often at this moment you’ll discover that the little lady is still in the lift with you.

Being in a lift means invading someone else’s body space. This can be quite exciting when two people are attracted to each other. Passions often ignite in lifts and are sometimes even consummated. This can be awkward for the other passengers, even at 90 degrees.

I’d highly recommend the little handy-sized number that is Never Push…, because I enjoyed it loads. Thanks, Guy!

Update: Minor formatting corrections

Culture Vulture notes a Times of India article which claims that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince contains pornographic double-entendres, including these particular favourites of mine:

‘You see?’ Dumbledore said quietly, holding his wand a little higher. Harry saw a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling. ‘You will not object to getting a little wet?’ ‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Then take off your Invisibility Cloak… and let us take the plunge.’

Lupin burst out laughing. ‘Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’…

Realistically, is there any book in the world that you couldn’t extract quotes from and put them in a completely different context? Well, perhaps the newly bought Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Perhaps more amusing still is one commenter’s observation on the Culture Vulture website:

hagrid had a giant mother and a human father, If you think that’s hard to fathom, be thankful Rowling didn’t make it the other way around.

Well, that had never occured to me before…

Guy Browning writes his How to… column for the Guardian’s Weekend magazine each week, and Never Hit a Jellyfish… is a collection of those columns. I think it’s absolutely hilarious – one of the few books I’ve read that is genuinely laugh-out -loud funny, and I would personally highly recommend it.

The Amazon reviews, however, appear to show that this book has something of a polarising effect:

I like a book that makes me laugh, but they don’t usually have the same effect on my family when I read them extracts, that is until now. Even my 17 year old son a very reluctant reader, was drawn in by this books short snippets of hilarity.

I bought this book off the back of some of the other reviews I read, plus I must admit I found the title quite amusing. However, I can’t stress enough how disappointed I am with my purchase. The small stories/challenges are, in the most part, dull. There is the occasional line or comment which causes a small chuckle, but they are rare. It is mostly mindless rubbish, which may work as a small column in a newspaper where people only read one a day/week, but reading them in a book (more than one a day) will send you to sleep.

This must be one of the funiest books I’ve read in ages, just about every observation Browning makes is spot on, with most of the chapters reducing me to tears of laughter by the second paragraph, annoying anyone close by no end. A perfect gift for anyone in danger of taking life a bit too seriously.

The stories are only mildly amusing, I found it a bit of a struggle to read, maybe you need to enjoy this type of humor. Each mini story follows the same format in terms of tone and structure; as a result the book gets a little monotonous.

In cases like this, it’s difficult for me to say anything other than that I liked it, and if you like Browning’s style, you might well do too. Perhaps try looking through some of his previous columns, and see if you like those. I’ve been an avid reader of the column for some time, so it’s hardly surprising that I should like the book.

So, to summarise: I certainly enjoyed Never Hit a Jellyfish…, and would highly recommend it to anybody who likes the How to… columns.

After months of speculation and waiting, the sixth book in the Harry Potter septology has been released. And now I’ve read it. And hence, this review might contain spoilers. Though I’ll try to avoid them. But no promises. So look away now if you don’t want to know what happens.

The sixth book has a lot to live up to. The first five (or perhaps just the marketing craze surrounding them) had sent large sections of the population – and not just the younger members – into something of a frenzy. I didn’t really see that there was much that was terribly special about the first five books in all honesty, but perhaps that’s because I wasn’t reading them closely enough. After all, if I’d gone through and listed every occurance of the number twelve in the books (as has one dedicated fan), then perhaps I’d have got more out of them. But for me, they were never anything more than something to read. Once.

Book six, though, is quite a different kettle of fish. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I thought it was absolutely excellent. It’s a very different book to the first formulaic five, which all follow the same pattern of an event-filled year at Hogwarts, with Quidditch matches and lessons described in mind-numbing detail, followed by some huge battle with Lord Voldemort at the end of the school year and, hence, the end of the book. Book six sticks loosely to this framework, in so far as it is set in a year at Hogwarts, with a big action-packed bit at the end, but no more are the every movements of Harry and friends described in quite such detail. Instead, the book has very little action, but more discussion and exploration of the things that have happened in the previous five books, and the reasons behind them.

This is where the true mastery of the writing of the books hit me. Being the cynic that I am, I wasn’t entirely convinced that JK Rowling had indeed plotted out all seven books in her head, and felt that she was rather making them up as she went along. But the explanations in book six show that this clearly wasn’t the case – everything had a reason, from the smallest reference to the biggest events, leading up to the biggest (and most emotional) event yet at the end of the book, which provides the spur for Harry to go off and complete the necessary tasks laid out for him for the seventh book. Never previously in the series has it been clear from the previous book what is to happen in the next – hence my suspicion – but the path is now clearly laid, complete with the required motivation for completing it. Effectively, the story so far is wrapped up, in preparation for a huge ending in book seven. (Assuming, of course, that book seven is published as a single book, and that the publishers don’t try and squeeze every last penny of profit out of the franchise by releasing it in several parts.)

So, this book is effectively one long gear-change in the story of Harry Potter. It explains all that has gone before it, and sets the scene for the finale to come. And hence, it could have been mind-numbingly boring. But luckily for me, I found it not to be so, not least because the tone (although not the mood) is much lighter in this book than the previous one, in which Harry seemed to be constantly bad-tempered. However, I think a lot of the younger readers – JKR’s target audience, after all – would be both confused and bored by the book. There’s so much background to get to grips with, and so much double-double-double-crossing, that some adults, let alone kids, found it hard to keep up with which people were goodies, and which baddies. I also think that younger kids would have difficulty getting to grips with some of the humour in the latest installment, as – with the various romances involving the three central characters – it’s not quite the same kind of humour as in the earlier books. I’d imagine that children would prefer more action, as in the earlier novels. But who am I to speak for the under-twelves of today? And how many of the readers are really children, and how many are actually adults? With an increasing number of the latter, they have to be catered for. Or perhaps not, because they might well buy it anyway. Who can say?

Let’s be honest: Am I really going to complain that this book was rubbish because other people might not like it, when I thought it was excellent? Am I really going to rubbish a book because it’s supposed to be kids literature, and I haven’t thought the books so far have been particularly spectacular? No. I am, however, going to say that I thought it was excellent, and I’m quite looking forward to book seven – which, rumours appear to say, is already written, and will probably be released in a year or so. There we go, I’ve said it. Now I just have to prepare myself for the huge Pottermania which will no doubt accompany the publication of the last book. And read something else in the meantime.

Bloomsbury spent £1,000,000 advertising the latest Harry Potter book.

In the first 24 hours, it is thought that they have sold 10,000,000 copies, with an RRP of £16.99. Including – I have to admit – one to me.

Now that’s good business. What other product sells 10,000,000 units in 24hrs?

But is it good literature? Well I’ve not read it yet, so I can’t really comment. But I think it’s fair to say that it’s getting an awful lot of children reading, and that can be no bad thing, as long as they move on to other books. Literature is a fantastic gift, but we shouldn’t be celebrating that kids are reading this one series, as that gives no representation of the wider literary scene. Going on the form of the first five books, Ms Rowling doesn’t provide the best literary experience, as she – frankly – isn’t the best writer in the world. She’s been quite successful so far, though, so I don’t really think it’s for me to criticse. Of course, the Daily Mail, in its role as official criticiser of all modern trends, made something of a lacklustre attempt to crticise the novel yesterday, but – unusually for the Mail – it was clear that their heart really wasn’t in it. That particular column appears not to be online, but this piece, confidently declaring that the sixth novel would be called ‘Harry Potter and the Mudblood Revolt’, is online. Well, at least they got the first three words right.

One thing that has surprised me about the latest Potter book is the huge differences in high street prices – wandering down my local high street this morning, I saw prices varying from £8.99 to £11.99, and it would appear that, had I looked more closely, I could have found prices varying from £4.99 to £16.99. That’s a difference of £12. I would have expected all the shops to have been charging largely similar prices – why would anyone pay £16.99 for a book they could pick up for £4.99 just metres down the road? Yet many people were. Perhaps it’s one of Harry’s spells.

I’m sure I’ll be publishing more about Harry when I’ve read it – whenever that might be. But, for now, I’m off to reflect on how much richer JK Rowling is tonight than she was last night, and wonder how that must feel for her. Oh, and maybe read a bit of Harry Potter, too.