First, Pliny had to supply some personal information. His gender and his age and job type. That was no problem. He chose 'retired'. Then, to estimate how many hours he spent each week on various online tasks.
What is multi tasking? he asked me crossly.
It's when you do more than one thing at once, I answered. Don't they explain?
But look at all these different kinds of multi tasking, he grumbled. I'm sure I don't do any of them. I shall just answer 'Never' to them all.
Next, Pliny had to demonstrate his research techniques. 'What words would you enter if you wanted to find out how much caffeine there was in an expresso?'
Do you think it's a trick question? asked Pliny.
Don't ask me, I said.
He entered the words 'caffeine' and 'expresso'.
Next he had to choose which site to go to for the answer.
Normally, he said, I would go straight to Wikipedia. But perhaps they would prefer me to go to BBC information.
That's definitely a trick question. I said. What are you going to do?
Be true to myself, said Pliny. And go to Wikipedia. Oh! Now they want me to rate the information out of ten. Let me see. Yes. It tells me here how much caffeine is in an expresso. I wonder if I should give it ten out of ten?
Why not? I asked.
Because they might think I am too easily satisfied, he said.
Stop worrying, and get on with it, Pliny, I said. It's meant to take you twenty minutes and you've taken quarter of an hour already.
But I made a cup of tea, protested Pliny.
They don't know that, I said. Hurry up.
Next Pliny had to do some simple memory puzzles, followed by some that involved multi tasking.
In the first one, there were four chocolate bars, two red and two blue. You had to press 'Y' if you thought the red chocolate bars had moved in the second frame, and 'N' if you thought that they hadn't. You could practice as many times as you liked.
Curses! said Pliny. Should I practice until I can do it perfectly, or would that be wasting time?
Practice, I advised, until you can do it adequately.
Pliny practiced a few times, but he wasn't improving. He was getting a consistent six out of ten.
I would probably get six out of ten if I just pressed 'Y' all the time, he said. So that's what I'll do. But I feel like a chocolate biscuit. What time is it now?
Showing posts with label BBC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BBC. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Natural History News
What has happened to the newspapers? asked Pliny the Elder, this morning. I haven't seen one for the last two days.
Oh didn't I tell you? I replied. We've decided to do without them and see how we go.
What! exclaimed Pliny. What about the Sudoku ? What about the crossword? What about the latest developments in natural history?
Aren't you going to ask, What about the news? I said.
No, said Pliny. I get my news online these days, like everybody else.
You can probably get natural history news online as well, Pliny. Why don't we have a look.
We googled Natural History News, and found the BBC website.
Look! said Pliny. David Attenborough's favourite moments!
Oh please! I said. That will not be very cutting edge, you know.
I suppose not, agreed Pliny. What about this? A quiz! The Web Behaviour Test. What Web Animal are You?
They say it takes twenty minutes, I said doubtfully.
Never mind! I want to know what sort of Web Animal I am. And see! It will help them in their research.
Go on then. Do it.
Alright, I will. Oh! It seems I have to register.
Of course you do.
So Pliny registered, and then began the test.
Great Jupiter! he said there are eighteen parts to this! I'll make myself a cup of tea before I start.
Oh didn't I tell you? I replied. We've decided to do without them and see how we go.
What! exclaimed Pliny. What about the Sudoku ? What about the crossword? What about the latest developments in natural history?
Aren't you going to ask, What about the news? I said.
No, said Pliny. I get my news online these days, like everybody else.
You can probably get natural history news online as well, Pliny. Why don't we have a look.
We googled Natural History News, and found the BBC website.
Look! said Pliny. David Attenborough's favourite moments!
Oh please! I said. That will not be very cutting edge, you know.
I suppose not, agreed Pliny. What about this? A quiz! The Web Behaviour Test. What Web Animal are You?
They say it takes twenty minutes, I said doubtfully.
Never mind! I want to know what sort of Web Animal I am. And see! It will help them in their research.
Go on then. Do it.
Alright, I will. Oh! It seems I have to register.
Of course you do.
So Pliny registered, and then began the test.
Great Jupiter! he said there are eighteen parts to this! I'll make myself a cup of tea before I start.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Authorities on Bees
I happen to know a lot about bees, said Pliny. In fact I am one of the ancient authorities on bees, along with Varro, Vergil and Columnella. I know that bees like music but I do not think they are particularly fond of water.
Alright, I said reasonably. Explain to me how you know they like music. And then I will explain to you why they like water.
There is much evidence that bees respond well to music, said Pliny. For instance it is known that drumming on the hive will cause the bees to rise harmoniously while the beekeeper removes the honey in complete safety. Furthermore, when bees are flying away, the clapping of hands and tinkling of cymbals will suffice to bring them home again. We have this on the authority of Varro.
That is delightful, I said. Now I hope that you will also like what I have to tell you about bees and water.
Go on, said Pliny.
Bees drink water. And they need it to feed the young bees and to dilute their food . They cool down the air by fanning their wings over the water to evaporate it. Bees like to live near water. I've heard that some of them even live in water meters.
That reminds me, said Pliny, of a tale I recorded in my Natural Histories, about the bees from the village of Hostilia on the banks of the River Po. When the flowers were finished the people used to place their hives on ships and sail them 5 miles up the river. The bees would go out every day and come back with their booty. After a few days the ships would sink lower in the water, and then the people would know the hives were full of honey. They then sailed home and extracted the honey from the hives. This story shows that bees do not mind travelling over water.
That's a good story, I said. If it didn't contradict my own position I would tell you something that I read the other day on the subject of bees travelling over water.
Oh go on, tell me, said Pliny.
Well, it seems that bees prefer to cross a river by bridge rather than fly straight across the water. It's because the water throws out their navigation.
That is most amusing, said Pliny, if it is true.
Of course it's true, I replied. It's from the BBC.
Alright, I said reasonably. Explain to me how you know they like music. And then I will explain to you why they like water.
There is much evidence that bees respond well to music, said Pliny. For instance it is known that drumming on the hive will cause the bees to rise harmoniously while the beekeeper removes the honey in complete safety. Furthermore, when bees are flying away, the clapping of hands and tinkling of cymbals will suffice to bring them home again. We have this on the authority of Varro.
That is delightful, I said. Now I hope that you will also like what I have to tell you about bees and water.
Go on, said Pliny.
Bees drink water. And they need it to feed the young bees and to dilute their food . They cool down the air by fanning their wings over the water to evaporate it. Bees like to live near water. I've heard that some of them even live in water meters.
That reminds me, said Pliny, of a tale I recorded in my Natural Histories, about the bees from the village of Hostilia on the banks of the River Po. When the flowers were finished the people used to place their hives on ships and sail them 5 miles up the river. The bees would go out every day and come back with their booty. After a few days the ships would sink lower in the water, and then the people would know the hives were full of honey. They then sailed home and extracted the honey from the hives. This story shows that bees do not mind travelling over water.
That's a good story, I said. If it didn't contradict my own position I would tell you something that I read the other day on the subject of bees travelling over water.
Oh go on, tell me, said Pliny.
Well, it seems that bees prefer to cross a river by bridge rather than fly straight across the water. It's because the water throws out their navigation.
That is most amusing, said Pliny, if it is true.
Of course it's true, I replied. It's from the BBC.
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