Just a reminder. I'm doing the Saturday morning Breakfast Show on KUVO tomorrow - Saturday 1st March.

It's on 6am-9am mountain standard time (1pm-4pm GMT).

You can stream the signal from here: KUVO

It does work on Windows, but I've not got it to work, however, I had no trouble on my Macintosh.

Folks, as you may (or may not) know (or care), this site is primarily developed on a couple of Macintoshes.

I also own a Windows-PC, however, and occasionally check the look of the site from a Windows perspective.

It seems that colours come out radically different on the PC than on the Mac. For instance, the current "background colour" looks like Periwinkle on the PC, but looks like the pale grey-blue I wanted, on the Mac.

Give me time. I'm working on correcting this. I'm also working on fixing up bugs in the pages.

Update
It seems that my Mac laptop is the only machine that sees the page as grey-blue. That's good news, because it means a bit of recalibration of the things colour settings, and we're all looking at the same colours.

You may have already seen this either in the newspaper concerned, or circulating via email. It's a letter to The Observer from Terry Jones (yes, of Monty Python). If you're reading this from outside Europe, get a European friend to help you with the sarcasm.

Sunday January 26, 2003

I'm really excited by George Bush's latest reason for bombing Iraq: he's running out of patience. And so am I! For some time now I've been really pi** ed off with Mr Johnson, who lives a couple of doors down the street.

Well, him and Mr Patel, who runs the health food shop. They both give me queer looks, and I'm sure Mr Johnson is planning something nasty for me, but so far I haven't been able to discover what. I've been round to his place a few times to see what he's up to, but he's got everything well hidden. That's how devious he is. As for Mr Patel, don't ask me how I know, I just know - from very good sources - that he is, in reality, a Mass Murderer. I have leafleted the street telling them that if we don't act first, he'll pick us off one by one.

Some of my neighbours say, if I've got proof, why don't I go to the police? But that's simply ridiculous. The police will say that they need evidence of a crime with which to charge my neighbours. They'll come up with endless red tape and quibbling about the rights and wrongs of a pre-emptive strike and all the while Mr Johnson will be finalising his plans to do terrible things to me, while Mr Patel will be secretly murdering people. Since I'm the only one in the street with a decent range of automatic firearms, I reckon it's up to me to keep the peace. But until recently that's been a little difficult.

Now, however, George W. Bush has made it clear that all I need to do is run out of patience, and then I can wade in and do whatever I want! And let's face it, Mr Bush's carefully thought-out policy towards Iraq is the only way to bring about international peace and security. The one certain way to stop Muslim fundamentalist suicide bombers targeting the US or the UK is to bomb a few Muslim countries that have never threatened us.

That's why I want to blow up Mr Johnson's garage and kill his wife and children. Strike first! That'll teach him a lesson. Then he'll leave us in peace and stop peering at me in that totally unacceptable way. Mr Bush makes it clear that all he needs to know before bombing Iraq is that Saddam is a really nasty man and that he has weapons of mass destruction - even if no one can find them.

I'm certain I've just as much justification for killing Mr Johnson's wife and children as Mr Bush has for bombing Iraq. Mr Bush's long-term aim is to make the world a safer place by eliminating 'rogue states' and 'terrorism'. It's such a clever long-term aim because how can you ever know when you've achieved it? How will Mr Bush know when he's wiped out all terrorists? When every single terrorist is dead? But then a terrorist is only a terrorist once he's committed an act of terror. What about would-be terrorists? These are the ones you really want to eliminate, since most of the known terrorists, being suicide bombers, have already eliminated themselves.

Perhaps Mr Bush needs to wipe out everyone who could possibly be a future terrorist? Maybe he can't be sure he's achieved his objective until every Muslim fundamentalist is dead? But then some moderate Muslims might convert to fundamentalism. Maybe the only really safe thing to do would be for Mr Bush to eliminate all Muslims?

It's the same in my street. Mr Johnson and Mr Patel are just the tip of the iceberg. There are dozens of other people in the street who I don't like and who - quite frankly - look at me in odd ways. No one will be really safe until I've wiped them all out. My wife says I might be going too far but I tell her I'm simply using the same logic as the President of the United States. That shuts her up.

Like Mr Bush, I've run out of patience, and if that's a good enough reason for the President, it's good enough for me. I'm going to give the whole street two weeks - no, 10 days - to come out in the open and hand over all aliens and interplanetary hijackers, galactic outlaws and interstellar terrorist masterminds, and if they don't hand them over nicely and say 'Thank you', I'm going to bomb the entire street to kingdom come. It's just as sane as what George W. Bush is proposing - and, in contrast to what he's intending, my policy will destroy only one street.

Sounds as perfectly well-argued as Dubya's plan for The War For Oil, to me.

This afternoon, I ventured (a few blocks down, few blocks across) to 3rd & Detroit. I visited a new in Creek called Güzel. It's not quite your regular run-of-the-mill . It's owned and run by some Turkish chaps, and therefore, in addition to the usual caffienated beverages, they do Turkish Coffee.

If you've not had Turkish coffee before, you're missing a treat. Even if you're someone who doesn't like or drink coffee, Turkish coffee is delightful. Güzel's Turkish coffee hits the spot just right.

As if that wasn't enough of an attraction, they have free wireless DSL internet access for patrons, and they play - KUVO!

A quick call to the KUVO , and Güzel was getting a mention on-air, and yours truly was having his customer card marked up with "Five free drinks*.

The pay might be non-existent at KUVO, but it does have the odd fringe benefit now and again.

WARNING: This product contains rants

On Sunday night, my DirecTV service went out. It was snowing. This didn't surprise me. When I had Dish Network, and it snowed heavily, as the weather is wont to do in Denver, sometimes there'd be so much snow either on the satellite dish, or just plain in the air, that TV reception would fail.

The snow stopped after an hour or two. The TV service didn't return however.

I scheduled a service call for, this morning, between 8am and 12pm.

Fluffy bunny optimist that I am, I phoned them this morning, at 8am, to see if they were able to give me a rough idea of which end of 8-12 I could expect their repair guy to show up. They couldn't.

No, apparently, in this day of high-speed communications, DirecTV - a company that makes its living, selling broadband services - can't contact its service personnel, once they're out of yelling distance. Nor, apparently do they keep any kind of list, showing the order of the repairman's calls that day.

To make matters worse, the bastards didn't show up between 8 and 12. They also didn't call to say they weren't going to make it. That, is just plain rude.

Eventually I called them. Apparently it takes four members of staff find out the phone number for the local service office, who are the people who are able to tell actual concrete lies about when the repair guy is going to show up.

They assured me, he'd be there in, "about half an hour, to an hour".

Two hours later, he arrived at my door. Funnily enough, he had a mobile phone on him, as well as a walkie-talkie. It was almost as if he could have been contacted, and let the office know when he was actually going to show up.

Did I mention my espresso maker isn't working, and I have no filter coffee?

As I write, I'm sat in the WPCC, guzzling a bucket of espresso, and in a cruel twist of humour, the radio is playing Cypress Hill's "Jump Around".

Finally, the new MoveableType-powered version of DMfM is available.

All the old articles from the Blogger version of the site are available, through the archives, shown on the right.

So far, I haven't figured out a way of importing the comments from the old site, and research seems to reveal that there's no automated way of doing it (yet).

Still, at least we're off and running.

I'm still working on the look-n-feel, and learning more and more about template design and stylesheets. If you see any errors, let me know. There's a 50/50 chance I've not spotted them. Be sure to tell me what OS and what Browser you're using.

New pages, such as the much-promised Review, and a gallery or two, are in the pipeline.

Throw the switch, damn you!

OK, so last night I attempted to "throw the switch" on the MT-powered version of DMfM, thus heralding in a new age of enlightenment. Well, OK, maybe not enlightenment, but at least an age of "not having to rely on Blogger".

Everything was set to go. The templates were working, the comments system was working, the style-sheet was working, even the pulleys to raise the monster up towards the lightning were working.

So, I threw the switch, and what happened? Well, the usual dramatic crackles of electricity as the archives were generated, but then a loud phut, as the main page failed to be written in the new location.

Any of you fellow geeks out there who might have a clue as to why:
a) I can't set write permissions on my main /www directory, or index.html, to 777
and
b) Why the hell MoveableType seems to need me to do so in order to write the main page

Please email me!

Update:
I took the dogs for a walk. There's nothing like walking in sub-zero temperatures, withhout your hat or gloves, to clear the mind.

A quick look on the MT forums reveals that, yes, you do have to have your root dir's permissions set to "slut level" - although I should be able to add back in some security as soon as it's off and running.

For some reason, I'm not being allowed to set this dir's permissions (despite the fact that it's ME paying for it). So, the sysadmins at my hosting company are looking into it.

As soon as that's done, it should all work, and we can kiss Blogger good bye!

Attn: The Three Jerks Next To Me At The Counter At Pete's Kitchen

Gentlemen (and I use the term in the loosest possible sense of the word), can I suggest that you are living in the wrong city? Denver, a whole mile above sea-level, is not known for having a lot of fog, and so, one is caused to wonder, upon being subjected to your loud, inane and, frankly, ignorant conversation, why three walking fog-horns are living here.

It is perhaps a measure of your suitability for warning shipping in low-visibility conditions, by your bellowing loudness (loud even by American standards), that you managed to pretty much drown out all the other patrons in what was, a rather noisy diner.

Had you had anything remotely interesting, thought-provoking, or indeed multi-syllabic to say, I could possibly have forgiven you, and enjoyed (compulsory, by virtue of my not being deaf) listening in. You did not however.

Your opening, lengthy conversation about "extreme fighting" programs (on TV), managed simultaneously to both alert me as to the level of intellectual discourse to expect, and put me right off my food. A rare feat indeed, that left me almost wishing you'd start talking about sports.

The fact that you didn't change the subject, for some considerable time, but instead morphed it into an equally grisly discussion about Pay-Per-Wank Boxing just made me long for the days when it was relatively legal to shoot someone because you didn't like the way they looked at you. I suspect, however, that if those days were still with us, you'd have been long since dead, by the hand of someone else, who doesn't fucking care about your television watching discussions.

And gentleman, that's kind of a pertinent point. None of you inane babble was about anything you'd actually done. It was all about stuff you'd watched on your televisions. I dare say those televisions are massive, macho 95-inch cathode-ray penis-substitutes (just in case you Ford F150 pickups weren't enough (and I suspect they weren't)), but it doesn't detract from the fact that none of your tedious waffle, referred to anything that any of you had got up off your flabby arses and done yourselves.

I think the most amusing part of your conversation, was when you were speculating about the origins of the meat on the "doner kebab" (or giro) rotary grill. It was all I could do, not to spray the counter with coffee when one of you geniuses suggested that the metal pole around which the meat sat, was where the bone used to be!

Get a clue morons! It's formed meat, made of compressed lamb! Just what part of a sheep do you thing has such a long and broad cylinder of meat in it?

Of course, inevitably, your droning drivel turned to the subject of sports. Again, not sports any of you actually play, but instead, athleticism that you clearly enjoy from the comfort of your La-Z-Boy recliner, whilst guzzling Coors' carbonated urine.

No doubt, you're of the kind of fan that likes to suggest, "we won!" when in fact, it was the players who went out and won, whilst you just stayed on your arse, no doubt spouting dumbness on a par with that to which I was subjected, today.

Of course as your lunches arrived, I thought we might all be treated to an intermission from your loud idiocy, whilst the three of your had your heads in the trough. Alas it was not to be. No. Unsurprisingly, you all continued babbling loudly, whilst chewing your food. Delightful. Never let it be said that you can't multi-task.

By the way, the word to describe an exact item is "specific", not "pacific". The Pacific is an ocean. I mention this as likely none of you have left the state of Colorado yet, being only in your thirties, and so you may not be aware of the vast body of water to the west, or indeed, the strange cylindrical lamb-fish swimming in it.

In case you were wondering if I was ever going to launch the MoveableType version of DMfM (and even if you weren't), I'll tell you why it's still not launched.

Everything is pretty much ready to rock, I was just about to throw the switch, when my elite team of beta testers (in a variety of countries) brought a problem to my attention.

The new main page displays just fine, in any Macintosh browser, and any Windows browser except Internet Explorer 6.

Yes, Microsoft - masters of over-engineered software - have struck again.

If you view the page using IE6, the whole layout is deformed, and one of the three columns doesn't even appear.

I've spent the past two days researching possible workarounds, until Micro$oft deign to get off their fat arses and trying following some standards that the rest of us have heard of.

I've found two possible fixes I can code into my front page, but guess what? Neither of them seem to work, despite claims to the contrary by certain people in certain MT forums.

So, I'm holding off on throwing the switch fully over to MT, until I find either a fix, or hear that M$ have issued a patch for the problem.

Incidentally, if there are any template and/or style-sheet gurus out there who fancy lending me their expertise, I'd greatly appreciate it. So far, I've not managed to customise the comments pop-up window, and this is vexing me somewhat.

Email me if you think you can help.

I've mentioned British TV chef Jamie Oliver before.

Tonight, I watched him on Oliver's Twist, a show where he cooks a meal each week, and is joined by members of an 'interesting' profession at the end, who flounce into Jamie's flat, chit-chat, pretending to be interested in Jamie cooking in front of them, before scarfing down his efforts, all to the up-beat funky beats of Jamie's band, who provide the theme tune and backing music to the whole show.

Tonight, Jamie was cooking Indian food. By an amazing coincidence, I had just ordered a whole heap of Indian food from my favourite Indian restaurant.

As a keen cook, sometimes of Indian food, I was rapt with attention about what he was cooking.

Eventually, Jamie was joined by friend, and Bollywood actress, Honey, who was so annoying she actually made him seem quite bearable.

Apparently, I leave the country for five minutes, and Bollywood becomes the latest fashion in the UK, extending the British curry obsession to fashion and dancing.

The show ended with a bunch of other Bollywood actors, and some caucasian interlopers, guzzling Jamie's gastronomic creations down, and then indulging in some Bollywood-style dancing, which proved once-and-for-all that middle-class white guys shouldn't try to dance, unless they're:

a) trained dancers
b) gay
c) forced at gunpoint to show the world just how little rhythm they have.

As I may have said before, I generally loathe Mr Oliver and his over-used brand of lisping mockney wanker repartee, but after watching a few of his shows, I've come to admire his cooking abilities, if not his phoney accent.

I mean, I'm sorry, but he looks middle-class, he has a very middle-class name, his whole fucking lifestyle is middle-class, so WTF is it with this lisping mockney nonsense? And don't get me started about his use of "yeah?" as punctuation.

Don't get me wrong, he seems like a nice guy, and certainly is talented, but here's the thing Jamie - as I'm not actually stood next to you, when you say, "Add a pinch of black pepper, yeah?" - I CAN'T FUCKING ANSWER YOU!! So, stop it. OK? Just stop it.

from the Early Bird Special Dept.

I'm now booked to do another solo radio show.

I was at the station ( KUVO) and the boss man called me into his office.

He asked me if I'd do another show. I of course, eager to clock up more broadcasting hours, and inflict more of my wit upon an unsuspecting world, agreed. He then told me what show, namely, the Saturday breakfast show.

Carlos: It's 6am-9am.
Me: (gulp)
Me: You mean, there's a 6am at the weekends as well on weekdays?
Carlos: Yep
Me: So can I start the show with that Robin Williams line from Good Morning Vietnam?
Carlos: Err...
Me: Y'know, "It's 0600 hours. What does the "Oh" stand for? Oh my God it's early."

So, if you're wondering what I sound like, what I sound like at 6am in the morning, or even if I'm any good at doing a radio show, tune in at either 89.3FM in Denver, or online at kuvo.org, on Saturday 1st March.

I hope you all had a Happy Hallmark Inc. day! Because let's face it, the people getting the biggest boners on this "day of love", are the corporate executives at Hallmark, and anyone who sells flowers for a living.

But I don't have a big problem with them. If people fall for paying double for flowers, that's their lookout. You're going to get stiffed around Valentine's Day. You know it, they know it, the only difference is they're holding the money at end, and you're the one walking funny.

Jodi sent me this link to a site called Sardonic Bomb which, frankly says it all. Go read it then come back. I'll wait here.

Amen.

I've been single on many a Valentine's Day, but I've never felt the need to whine about it. There are some people, however, who seem unable to stop themselves from treating the day as their own personal little "The World Hates Me, And I Hate The World" day.

It's only one day. One, largely commercial day. It's over before you know it. Go rent your favourite movie, stay in, and eat an entire tub of ice cream, or whatever it is you do, when you're convinced the world is out to get you.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not suddenly renouncing my cynical outlook on the world. Things do suck, and the world probably is out to get us. But I'm kinda tired of the same old over-used self-pity about something that, frankly, is only as big a deal as you, the sufferer, chooses to make it.

I started writing this on Valentine's Day, but due to other commitments, such as radio work, and watching belly dancers, didn't get it finished.

I hope you all had a good day, whether or not you got any valentines. If you didn't, know that I love you, because you've taken the time to read my site.

I didn't buy you flowers. Sorry, but have you seen the price of roses in mid-February?!

So I was on-air, pledge-rapping, co-hosting or whatever you want to call it yesterday afternoon. We talked up a storm, and met our target pledges for the two hours.

At one point, I went out to the volunteers to check on the pronunciation of a caller's surname before I thanked them live on-air.

I was handed the phone with the words, "She'll only speak to you."

Thinking it was someone I knew, I took the phone and said hello.

It started off well...

Me: Hello, this is Max.
Caller: You have the sexiest voice on radio!

...and went downhill from there...

Me: Wow! Thanks! That's very kind of you. Would you like to make a pledge?
Caller: I want to pledge a million dollars!
Me: Really?
Caller: Yeah, a million bucks!
Me: That's very kind of you, now if I can just take your name and some details...
Caller: < click >

So from this we can deduce that either:
1) I'm To Sexy For My Shirt/Radio/Pledge drive (you know the tune)
or
2) She wasn't taking her medication

Knowing my luck, there's a unfilled prescription lying around somewhere.

I popped into KUVO today - if only because there was free food - and ended up being sent on-air for an hour, as sidekick on Afternoon Jazz with Darin Gabbert, to help drum up more listener pledges. That degenerated into a bit of on-air mocking of each other's accents and pronunciation.

Tomorrow, I'm doing more of the same from 1pm - 3pm, and am then back in the evening, as a 'board-op' (and possible sidekick), from 7pm-9pm.

(all times Mountain Standard Time, ie. GMT -7.00)

Ben Curtis, the actor who plays the "Dell Dude" in all those Dell TV commercials has been busted for marijuana possession.

It looks like Comedy Central have imported another new British comedy, Black Books.

It's about a book shop, but despite that, is incredibly funny, if only because it has Bill Bailey (a stand-up comedic genius) in it.

Bernard owns a bookshop. Bernard (Dylan Moran) seems to like a drink. Bernard doesn't seem to like people, especially ones trying to buy books from him.

He begrudingly employs Manny (Bailey) who turns out to be as big a drinker as Bernard.

Hilarity ensues.

No, really.

This is a story that was brought to my attention last week, and I never got around to passing it on to you.

In short, it's been shown that if you view the MSN homepage in Opera's latest browser, the content served up by Microsoft is crippled and distorted.

Opera carried out extensive testing, to make sure it wasn't a fault in their browser, or any part of the rendering process. How surprised would you be to know that they concluded that MSN's web server was, upon detecting the browser was Opera, deliberately sending a much bigger page (so it took longer to load), and sending HTML code that would cause lists on the page to appear crooked in their layout.

The full story can be found here.

In case you were wondering (and even if you weren't), I'm still working on the Moveable Type version of this site.

It's all going well. Progress is slow but sure. The basic site is working well, and I'm currently tinkering with the HTML/Javascript templates and CSS's, to come up with a unique design for DMfM.

Depending upon how much time I get to put into it, I should be switching the site to MT in the next week or so. That said, this is set to be a busy week, so who knows.

So anyway, on Thursday, I did my two hours on-air, co-hosting during the current pledge drive.

This meant getting up at the ungodly time of 6.15.

I know that some of you are probably saying, "but Max, I get up at that time every day of the working week", but remember:

1) I've been out of work for over a year
2) It's all very well being up at 6am, if you've had a full night's sleep by then.

As it goes, I couldn't sleep the night before. Try as I might, my eyes were wide awake until sometime after 3am. This of course meant that by 6.15am, I'd had about three hours sleep.

I can typically survive on 4-5 hours a night, but 3 hours, followed by live radio, isn't so easy. Add to that, the fact that as it's a pledge drive, we're supposed to be extra-enthusiastic, and our voices full of energy, and you can see why I nearly announced on-air:

"This show is brought to you with the letter 'C', and the number 5. C stands for caffeine, and five is the number of mugs of coffee I plan on consuming in the next two hours."

Anyway, apparently the two hours (one on the breakfast show, and one on the mid-morning show) pulled in the target number of donations, and the boss was happy.

As I was about to leave, it transpired that someone who was due on-air to co-host, hadn't shown, so I ended up doing an extra hour. Of course, by this stage, I'd had waaaaaay too much coffee, and so whilst there was plenty of energy in my voice, I was in danger of turning into Beavis, and declaring, "I am Cornholio! I need TP for my ...." I'll spare you any more detail, however, if you've seen Beavis and Butthead, you'll know rest of that routine

Today, I was back, running the board for a show, and had a great time. All the fun of playing with the equipment without having to talk (yes, it was hell!)

There was a live performance from Buckner's Funkin' Jazz - a band who's name you have to be so careful about pronouncing correctly on-air.

They rocked. They were loud. I was a little big impressed.

I'm on, chatting away again next Wednesday (1-3pm) and "board-op"-ing from 7-9pm. I'm then on, co-hosting on Thursday night and again on the following Saturday.

Of course, if someone falls ill or fails to show, I'll likely be on-air then too!

Notice To Just About Everyone Appearing on Comedy Central's Premium Blend
I don't care what race, religion, or ethnicity you have, stop playing the race card.

I'm sick and tired of hearing about how, "Aren't [insert ethnic group here] people goofy?", or, "Isn't it hard work being [insert race here]?"

In this day and age, you should be over it.

Tonight on Comedy Central, in one half hour show, we had a black comedian, followed by a white comedian, followed by a latino comedian, all going on about "Aren't you black folks cute?" To me this is all just embarrassing and shows that these comedians, and the people laughing at them, haven't progressed culturally in the past 40 years.

Maybe it's just me being European, but in Europe, we're just not so obsessed with pointing out to people what race they are, and calling it comedy.

I mean, there was (and to a very minor extent, still is) racism in Europe, but nothing like on the scale that seems to exist in the United States today. It certainly isn't the subject for an entire evening's comedy.

Sorry, maybe I'm being insensitive, but I just wish all these comedians, regardless of their race or ethnicity would come up with something original.

And don't bother telling me how much inequality there is out there, I know there is, and knowing that means I don't need 20 stand-up comedians reiterating the same point over and over. all evening. Move on. Please.

Dare I suggest that the cause of equality might be helped more by comedians raising the bar a little, with something a little more high-brow than, "This is how WE walk... This is how THEY walk" kind of humour?

Oh I'm sorry, I was forgetting where I was. Forget the high-brow... this is US television, and God forbid they'd stop treating people like they're idiots.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, all of us (yes us) KUVO DJs have to have our caricatures drawn by a local artist.

This is in addition to the photographs they took of us, for the KUVO website.

I'm still not sure what the caricacture business was about, but in an effort to make some of you laugh, here's how the artist saw me:

Yes, that's yet another black turtleneck sweater I was wearing

Starting tomorrow, Thursday, KUVO has one of it's thrice-yearly pledge drives going on for a week or so.

So, yet again, I shall be assaulting the ears and sensibilities of listeners, urging them to pick up the phone and pledge whatever cash they can.

This time round I'm doing a few on-air co-hosting stints, but I'm also doing some board-op work, where I'll not be talking (who said hurrah?), and operating the instead.

My first on-bit is tomorrow, staring at 8am with Ed Danielson, and then at 9am with Susan Gatschet-Reese.

There's a streaming signal available from the station's homepage, and there's also an online pledge facility.

Sometimes even the most fashionably busy of us have a quiet night in on a Saturday, and watch a movie on TV.

As I write, I'm watching What Lies Beneath. What a bloody awful film it is.

It's supposedly a supernatural suspense thriller, but so far the supernatural element largely involves the front door not shutting properly and a picture falling off a table. Whoopie-fucking-doo

The suspense element has all the predictability of your average Scooby-Doo episode. I mean, I'm seriously waiting for the final denouement to reveal that it was the fairground caretaker we met at the beginning.

Michelle Pfeiffer is still very easy on the eye, but in this film, not very easy on the ear. Her every action and reaction is so damn predictable, it's like watching Velma trying to find Shaggy and Scooby after her glasses have fallen off. You just know she's going to end up feeling the face of a ghoul, asking, "Shaggy, is that you?". In this case, Harrison Ford is the ghoul. No special make-up required there, he's looking (and acting) like the undead throughout the whole film.

OK, I'm going to stop now, because Michelle has just returned to confront Harrison at the family home, and the lights aren't working. Gee, I wonder if she'll find something shocking in the bathtub. Again.

This post will mainly be of interest to some of my fellow "bloggers".

This evening I successfully installed and ran MoveableType. I am still configuring the settings (there are a LOT), but the basic system is now in place.

I will be tweaking the new MT-powered site over the coming days, and hope to move the whole DMfM site over to using MT as soon as it's stable and fully configured.

There's every possibility that this current page could get erased whilst I'm configuring MT, but it should be recoverable via Blogger. Basically, bear with me.

If any of you would like a hand setting up MT, we can sort that out after I'm up and running.

I'd like to say a BIG thank you to my long-time friend and drinking partner Tim for his invaluable help on this project. The official MT documentation was either flawed or foggy in its instructions, and Tim unscrambled the install section, which has helped me no end.

In return, I will pass back my site configuration and template design findings.