Back in the spring, in the UK, we had our first lockdown to bring the coronavirus under control. We never dreamed we’d have another. That’s why we never gave StayAtHome a number. Until now.
In 2012, the Encyclopaedia Britannica announced that, after 244 years, fifteen editions and selling more than 7 million sets of its volumes, it was going out of print. The 32 volumes and 44 million words of the 2010 edition were its last.
The book of dreams is dust.
My little iPod Nano has been around the world with me. (Twice.) Surely it would be easy to find its like elsewhere.
Fax machines are vanishing from the NHS. By order. Although they are still surprisingly healthy in other parts of the world.
A note written especially for you. By hand. A rare thing, except maybe, perhaps, at Christmastime.
In some ways, they started as refreshment kiosks and returned to their fate as refreshment kiosks.
Always a ghost programme to begin with, the IBA Engineering Announcements are now truly a ghost.
It was the activity that kept you from murder and mayhem as you waited on hold, waited for your caller to dry up, or listened to Greensleeves for the 96th time.
In the popular memory, the millennium bug was something that failed to come to pass. However, that is only because an army of coders made sure it didn’t.