Personal

OK, I readily admit that this is really childish. I haven't updated this site for ages; I know there are far better things that I could be writing about. At the age of nearly 30, I really shouldn't be sniggering at naughty words like I'm back in primary school. But when I saw this unbelievably apt number plate on a sewage truck, I realised I had witnessed the stuff of playground legends. I present to you The Poo Truck in all it's glory...

I couldn't resist it. I can't remember how it came up in conversation, but today the immortal phrase "digital badger" was uttered at work. I overheard it and thought to myself, "Now, there's a cool domain name". I had a look, and sure enough - digitalbadger.net was available. So now it's mine, all mine! Stupid, but still oh so very cool. However, I do apologise if you stumbled upon this site actually looking for information pertaining to binary mustelids.

Thanks to the SomethingAwful forums, I found one of my favourites quotes from Carl Sagan again after loosing it a while back and felt compelled to post it here. It just blows me away each time, particularly when you put it in context with this picture, taken by Voyager 1 as it was 4 billion miles away from Earth and swung round for one last photo of "home".

We succeeded in taking that picture, and, if you look at it, you see a dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity—in all this vastness—there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It’s been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.