We're just not sure

Outside my office is a small series of grass humps. Pigeons sit on it. No one’s sure why it’s there. Inside my office is my desk. Soft toy zebras sit on it. No one’s sure why I’m there either.

It’s just another ennui afternoon here, which is just a pretentious way of saying I’m bored and pissed off about it. Half the office have gone to Google for lunch, and not come back yet; close to the other half have taken the afternoon off under DoubleClick’s Summer Working Hours (which sounds like it should be its own timezone, but just means you get every other Friday off). Yesterday was one part good to one part vodka, so little about today has been enjoyable; basically nothing since I got into the office.

So I’ve been doing what anyone in my situation would do: finding books on the history of information. (Actually, my sister’s being doing most of the work, as she has the history contacts.) Witness Empire and Information, a history of how information and communication in colonial India led to the downfall of British governance. (Judging by the cover, there’s a severe danger of period woodcuts and cartoons that could now be considered racist.)

Next up: a refreshing history of cod.

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