Late-night game of Monopoly in Brussels ends with samurai sword fight

Of course it does.
I mean, we’ve all been there. Not Brussels (although lots of people have also been there).

Are there any more divisive “family” games than Monopoly? And yes, yes, I know that “The Landlord’s Game” as it used to be called, is supposed to be all about the evils of capitalism, and that the fury that regularly ensues from playing Monopoly kind of validates that viewpoint, but it’s entirely possible to fall out over a game of pool and that’s just about hitting balls into one another, so… well – you do the maths.

And anyway, amazingly, this samurai sword “fight” (more on the quote marks below) had nothing to do with the actual gameplay, and far more to do with the fact that the game was actually being played.

The incident began when a group of four people were playing a board game on the pavement in front of a house, disturbing the occupant, who came out in an attempt to move them away from his house.
After an argument ensued, the resident’s son came out to defend his father armed with a concealed samurai sword.

OK, so playing Monopoly on a pavement is a bit weird, but is there a law against playing Monopoly on a pavement? Well, maybe not, but given that this was a 5am on Sunday morning, there probably should be.

And was it actually a “fight”, because that suggests that there were pugilists and protagonists? And in this case, the sheath sheathing the sword got damaged and a couple of people got cut. That’s not supposed to be how you use a samurai sword. I’ve seen Youtube videos of samurai warriors and they chop things up properly. Not a little nick with an exposed blade.

But in an abject lesson of how not to deal with having an early morning kerfuffle involving your dad and some pavement Monopoly players, one of the little nicks with the exposed blade (they are awfully sharp) appears to have effectively located an artery within the sword-wielding son, landing him in intensive care.

And probably requiring some hosepipe action on the pavement. Humans can drain quickly.

Sadly, the story is rather lacking on the reasons behind why the game of Monopoly was taking place on a pavement a couple of hours before sunrise. Although, I’m presuming that because it was dark, a streetlight would have been involved.

And yes, a quick Streetview visit suggests that hypothesis might be a valid one.
Of course, that in itself spawns several more questions, which will also remain frustratingly unanswered.

Anyway, silver linings and all that: if you managed to get a lie-in this last weekend, you did better than at least six people in Belgium.

Can Jetpack still share blog posts to Twitter?

Look, we’ve been through this. Firstly here, and then more recently, here. But twitter is falling apart.

The third party mobile apps disappeared, and then the first party web app stopped working. Instagram won’t share images to Twitter anymore, and yesterday, when I posted this post, the Jetpack plugin failed to connect to Twitter. And it doesn’t seem like the issue is at this end:

Jetpack is the plugin that 6000.co.za (and many thousands of other websites) use to tell people that there’s a new blog post fresh and ready for them to read. And now it’s not working – on Twitter at least. It’s still happily telling my Facebook fans that there’s been an update, and it would still post to LinkedIn if I wanted it to.

I don’t want it to.

Anyway, it seems likely that one of two things has happened here. Either, being allowed to connect to twitter from Jetpack (and Instagram) is now something that is now only allowed for paid accounts (no, I’m not going to), or something at twitter is broken because they (he) sacked all the competent staff.

Either way, there does seem to be a real rush to load a lot of straws onto the camel’s back to see what effect it will have.

EDIT: And, as Ian Betteridge predicted, no, it can’t.

What are the chances…?

What are the chances of there being loadshedding over the next year or so?

Well, in this breakdown (no pun intended), Eskom (our state electricity provider) (occasionally, at least) details how much electricity we’re likely to need and how much they’re likely to be able to supply for the next 52 weeks

Green is good, i.e. Supply > Demand = no loadshedding expected.
Red is bad, i.e. Demand > Supply = there will be loadshedding.

Aaand…

Ah. Oh.

ACTUALLY QUITE RED.

To be honest, the red “worse case” blocks “only” stretch as far as Stage 2 (ish). That is, about 2000MW short. And without normalising or excusing the awful situation, I think that – right now – most South Africans would take that as being something of a win.

Especially as we’re sitting at Stage 4 this evening.

But of course there is no redder red than the red on this table. So actually the red means AT LEAST Stage 2, and could mean anything up to Stage 37 (or whatever). I think we need a purple and a burgundy and maybe even (terrifyingly) a black, so that we can really see what’s going on.

On the plus side, Week 13 next year looks brighter – quite literally – well, unless it’s not.

We should have our personal measures to mitigate this nonsense installed by the end of the month, all being well. Roll on that glorious day.

Not bulletproof

Not “not bulletproof” literally. I think I knew that already, without the need for any risky experimentation.

But since I got training again after that dirty foul mistimed tackle at the end of November, I have been working hard and feeling good. My Discovery fitness age is down into the 20s, my running speed is back to where it should be, and my stamina is definitely on the up as well.

Yesterday morning, I cycled 10km uphill on the static bike, did a HIIT workout, some resistance work and some weights. All went well and I would even have done more, had time allowed.
Then, about an hour later, I BENT DOWN IN THE KITCHEN and my back was like:

…and seized up completely. Cue a lot of pain, some lying down and some good drugs.

Thank goodness the football was good, or it would have been a truly awful day.

Mark Twain once told us:

Do not complain about growing old. It is a privilege denied to many.

But I’m not complaining about growing old. I’m complaining about the things that happen as I grow old.
Technically, this is a completely different thing.

Look, I’m already on the mend, but while my back has clearly taken a bit of a metaphorical hit, that’s nothing compared to what it’s done to my confidence. Because I am about as fit as I have been for the last n years, and if I can temporarily paralyse myself by just stooping to pick something out of a pot drawer, then what happens when I actually do something actually energetic? Yeah, yeah, I’m aware it’s just an age thing, but when you’re actively taking every step to protect yourself and it still happens?
That’s concerning.

And – just to confuse matters – why didn’t the back thing happen while I was lifting or bending or bouncing (or whatever) in the gym? Why wasn’t that a problem? Because it really wasn’t. In fact, it felt great. There wasn’t even a hint of a sign of a twinge or pull or anything.
Nada.
Dololo.
I was (metaphorically) bulletproof.

And then suddenly: pew pew, and I was completely broken. [sad trombone]

So. A couple of days off, and maybe a visit to the physio to get an all clear to exercise (or get something out of a drawer) again. Because we’re supposed to be just a fortnight away from getting back to football, and I really can’t be doing with this sort of thing happening again.

Mixed

A really, really good day in the football. A potential banana skin successfully circumnavigated, and some wonderfully helpful results elsewhere.

And that’s good, because it has been less good at home. A niggling back injury and an unwell daughter has made for a painful and frustrating day.

So I’ll be concentrating on the former, and hoping that a good night’s rest will sort the latter.