Should have paid more attention to the photo of the Northern Ireland woman online in thigh-deep water yesterday. She was illustrating the dangers of storm Ciaran, and I absentmindedly wondered why she was out at all. To be fair, when we arrived in Edinburgh Daughter and I merely ended up foot-deep in the raging streams by Haymarket. Our umbrellas kept our hair dry, but that was all.
We were there because Daughter was taking part in a panel, on AI in space, at the Data Summit 2023. She was keen to get out there talking again. More fun if you’re dry, though, but her socks and boots just squelched quietly.
There was a keynote from Moriba Jah before the panel, and I haven’t yet decided if I was more taken by his talk or his hair. Close thing. (I jest. Obviously. Marvellous hair.)
It was a popular panel; hordes of people arriving as it kicked off. The panellists had things to say, from common sense to selling politics. Daughter told them about poor Kepler – the telescope, not the man – and how it managed to change what it could do when its first purpose failed, leaving it with many more years of service. That’s sustainable.
In the end not much was said about AI, or even about the man who puts so much junk into orbit round Earth. We seemed to be in agreement on how to be sensible.
Feet were still wet when we got home, and I am looking into waterproof backpacks, having had to dry every last thing in my bag. Never saw such a damp Kindle.