Archive for February, 2011

EPSRC : a capital affair (via The e-Astronomer)

Posted in Finance, Science Politics with tags , , , on February 2, 2011 by telescoper

If you think the grass is greener on the EPSRC side of the fence than on the STFC one, then you should read this post by the genial e-Astronomer. Times are tough…

I just came back from an EPSRC roadshow presentation to our University. Interesting to compare this to the STFC one we got a week or so back. Possibly the most striking thing, given that EPSRC is the biggest research council (budget 760M), is that the attendance was smaller than for the STFC show, and there was a much larger fraction of finance and admin people as opposed to scientists. I think this shows that despite all the troubles of the last … Read More

via The e-Astronomer

Mole Apocalypse

Posted in Bute Park, Uncategorized with tags , , on February 1, 2011 by telescoper

I recently mentioned in passing that the rodent control executive whose services I had cause to call on told me that most of his time these days is taken up with controlling an epidemic of moles whose activities are annoying the hell out of local people, especially those with lawns. On the way to work the other day I took a couple of pictures near the River Taff in Bute Park which show how severe the problem is…


If all this is the work of one critter he or she’s been very busy indeed!

Now, what was that line again?

“The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles)..”


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The Black Stars

Posted in Poetry, The Universe and Stuff with tags , , on February 1, 2011 by telescoper

Let no one sing again of love or war.

The order from which the cosmos took its name has been dissolved;
The heavenly legions are a tangle of monsters,
The universe – blind, violent, strange – assails us.
The sky is strewn with horrible dead suns,
Dense sediments of mangled atoms.
Only desperate heaviness emanates from them,
Not energy, not messages, not particles, not light.
Light itself falls back down, broken by its own weight,
And all of us human seed, we live and die for nothing,
The skies perpetually revolve in vain.

by Primo Levi (1919-1987), translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann.


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