Regret, thy name is Stouffer’s

You know when the cat is looking at you with reproach, like you haven’t fed them, but there’s food in the dish, it’s just been pushed around the edges? That’s sidefood. Neglected, underrated, but substantial.

Sometimes I have to cut something from a post because it doesn’t quite fit. Maybe I’ll work it into another post but, if I don’t, it’ll end up here as sidefood.

Such as: Summer rainstorm. I am in Topshop with my daughters. We are panic-buying an umbrella. “I wouldn’t get that one,” says the kind soul next to me, “that one’s got bras on it.” Bras is a nice way to put it. It’s actually a whole medley of bondage underwear. I thank her profusely. Stupid Topshop. Who needs a bondage-themed umbrella? On the other hand, I miss that basic level of irreverence. What would the US equivalent of Topshop be?

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I had this idea that I would do a series of posts about disasters. Here is Flood.

Flood: Data Back-up headache

It started as an error at a Blackberry data center somewhere in Europe (in Slough!)(cue Big George Webley) and spread continent by continent. The flow of data blocked and backing up, a drainful of emails and messages and photos and videos and attachments, (cue the Phillip Glass music).

The company said they were hoping to begin releasing emails and messages on the East Coast the next morning. You can see the inbox, hear the gasping beeps on the phone, as data comes rushing in, faster than sound.

Imagine the individual confusion, despair and paranoia people experienced as they waited for a response, before they knew what was going on.

Everyone went on Twitter and bitched.

When restored, the data will move through the lands like a stormcloud, raining down, billions of decisions, questions, actions, resolutions, counterdemands.