I’m still reading Anathem, but it’s really long, so I thought I’d give myself a quick book point by reading the much shorter Glasshouse, by Charles Stross. I agree with Krin that it is sometimes difficult to read, because many passages are quite violent.

I can’t seem to stop consuming this every day.

I used to consume red wine frequently, but now I only do so a few times a month. We cut our alcohol budget to just a few dollars a month, and can only afford to drink wine once in a while, and then only cheap wine. In my experience, nevertheless, I enjoy cheap wine as much as expensive wine, and I enjoy it more when I only drink it occasionally than when it becomes routine. Therefore, my experience of red wine has, paradoxically, improved by my less frequent consumption of it.

Usually, I like my science fiction set on Earth, in the near future, and undiluted by fantasy. This book fulfills two out of three of those criteria. I like it anyway.

Fun and educational but fusty, and riddled with errors.

This book is often fun and educational, but the frequent mistakes and “young fogey” tone get annoying. It resembles something out of the early 20th century, not just in style, but in substance.

While I was reading, every few pages, I noticed a mistake. Were they trying to bring the American edition to print in a hurry?

Although I appreciate the imperative to get away from the TV and out of the house, some more diversity in the historical sections would have been nice. I would have loved to have read some stories of brave acts by African Americans and women, for example.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. I have heard that a corresponding “Daring Book for Girls” is coming out in time for Christmas. I plan to read that one too—maybe it will be better.

Addendum: here’s an example of the kind of error I’m referring to. On page 161, in the section, “Finding Direction with a Watch,” Iggulden writes, “If it’s summer, wind it back an hour; if it’s winter, wind it forward an hour.” Of course, the second part of that sentence is wrong. If it’s winter, the hour hand points to 12 when the sun is at its highest point in the sky. If it’s winter, leave the setting on your watch alone. Good fact checkers should have caught that.

As for the fustiness, the best example is the grammar section, where Iggulden writes, “The general rule for prepositions is: Don’t end a sentence with a preposition.” That rule may have been popular in the 19th century, when reformist-minded grammarians wanted to make English sound more like Latin. These days, however, it’s the sort of nonsense up with which we do not put.

Some friends of mine had this too—they called it, “Are you nervous?”

I knew this game as simply “Adventure.” The first time I played it was in December 1980 at my Uncle Michael’s house in Mill Valley, California. He had a terminal with no monitor. Rather, it printed everything on green bar paper.

Later in 1981, I played the game again at the Hamilton College Computer Center on a Terak. The Terak had a CRT monitor, its own CPU and 8” floppies. It was quite advanced.

The UCSD P-system was my first operating system. When I used it (1981-1987), I didn’t even know the term, “operating system.” I just knew I had files, a compiler, an editor, and a way to execute programs. The mental image I have of the P-system is not that of a desktop (like modern systems) but rather that of a series of rooms. In some ways, this seems like a richer experience than the desktop metaphor. The mind fills in imaginary graphics the same way it creates pictures when one is reading a book.

Here’s a Terak page

When I was eight years old, I got a Dataman for Christmas. I immediately started playing with it and stopped paying attention to the activities of the day or to any other presents. My Dad said it was a toy I could relate to.