Harry the Geek comes up with the goods

Mary Dunwich writes:

I noticed this morning that we have a new LingQ member from Mauritius. I wonder if they want their dodo back?

I was pondering on who has the best claim to Dodgson the dodo. James bought him fair and square from a Dutch sailor in the seventeenth century, but unfortunately he didn't think to ask for a receipt.

The Werewolf thinks Dodgson comes under the Endangered Species legislation, which makes it highly illegal for us to be keeping a rare wild animal in a coop in our workshop.

I can't see that an animal that's been extinct for over three hundred years can be considered endangered. It's like putting the Loch Ness Monster on the "species at risk" list.

The Werewolf says that, as Dodgson is alive and well, clearly the Dodo is no longer extinct. There is now a total of one dodo in the world, and that makes him pretty blooming endangered.

I say you would first have to prove that he is a dodo, and as there is very little dodo around (just a dodo foot or something at the Oxford Museum of Natural History) it would be difficult to prove. The court case could drag on for years.

I was just about to look up the UK laws on keeping wild animals on Google when the Werewolf came in, closely followed by Harry the Geek and, by the looks of it, half the stock of Silicon Heaven.

"Did they have everything you wanted?" I asked with interest. Harry has offered to upgrade one of his old computers and give it to James to use for his school work. It's all a bit home-made, but does have the big advantage that he'll let us have it for £30, which is the grand total of my earnings as a LingQ tutor so far.

"Most of it," answered Charlie, putting the vintage computer he was carrying onto the floor. "The Head Anorak was well impressed by Harry. I think he realised he's met his match."

"The wee eijit dinna ken muckle o' phase-shift modulation," said Harry with self-satisfaction.

"Well, who does?" I asked. "Apart from you of course. That's what you did your Master's thesis on, isn't it?"

"Aye," he answered. "Ye can get an exponential increase in bandwidth if ye use passive optical components instead of electronic ones, and use synchronised photon streams. But that wee laddie in the shop had nivver e'en studied at Cambridge. He didna know the furrst thing about it!"

Well, quite. I peered into some of the bags.

"I'm not sure this lot will all fit in James' bedroom," I commented.

"I'm pretty sure it won't," countered Charlie. "It'll have to go in the workshop. I'll rig up an ethernet link while Harry's putting it all together."

"You're going to put out James' computer out in the workshop?" I asked. "Are you sure about this?"

"Do you want to pay £300 for a new computer that will fit in his bedroom?" answered my husband.

Mmm. I would have to work a lot harder at attracting students at LingQ to pay for that kind of technology. At present I only have one student, an elderly lady from Tibet, who chose me as her tutor because she thought that I was a minor member of the Royal family. To earn serious money I would have to act like a serious tutor.

"Well, if you're going to be making a lot of noise drilling I suggest you get started now," I said to Charlie. "Minnie and James have taken Dodgson for walkies in the woods at Sir Isaac's. I don't want a traumatised dodo on my hands. I've told them to be back for one o'clock. Are you staying for lunch, Harry? I'm doing Toad in the Hole and Spotted Dick with custard."

Harry brightened at the thought of a hot meal (I don't think he's at ease with cooker technology). He muttered something about neeps. I'm not comfortable with Scots, but I took this to be a remark about root vegetables. I said I'd see what I could do, and left them both to play.