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finncullenDriving home tonight from my place of gainful employment I decided to entertain myself by listening to the opening of 1984 once more. It's one of my favourite books, and I'd been told that one of my online buddies ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phloxflammula had just started reading it. To gain a vicarious share in the experience I did some deft thumb work on my iphone which serves as my in car entertainment system and fired up my Bookmark App to play the audiobook.
Bizarrely it was starting at Chapter Four - the second of the 10 mp3 files that make up the audiobook. I did the dangerous alternating between watching the road and stealing momentary glances down as my left thumb tried to "rewind" the audiobook... to no avail. It stubbornly seemed to consider Chapter Four to be the opening.
I abandoned the thumb-work at this point. I could have tried to use the spiffy voice-control features but I never trusted them. Once I'd had to brake sharply when a group of children had dashed out in front of me in the road, I swore 'fucking kids' under my breath, and my ipod started playing a Michael Jackson medley. Make of that what you will.
Anyway this evening I tinkered with my iTunes to discover what had caused the problem. Apparently of its own accord my iTunes folder had decided that the author of chapters one to three of 1984 was not in fact George Orwell, but Eddie Van Halen.
phloxflammula had just started reading it. To gain a vicarious share in the experience I did some deft thumb work on my iphone which serves as my in car entertainment system and fired up my Bookmark App to play the audiobook.Bizarrely it was starting at Chapter Four - the second of the 10 mp3 files that make up the audiobook. I did the dangerous alternating between watching the road and stealing momentary glances down as my left thumb tried to "rewind" the audiobook... to no avail. It stubbornly seemed to consider Chapter Four to be the opening.
I abandoned the thumb-work at this point. I could have tried to use the spiffy voice-control features but I never trusted them. Once I'd had to brake sharply when a group of children had dashed out in front of me in the road, I swore 'fucking kids' under my breath, and my ipod started playing a Michael Jackson medley. Make of that what you will.
Anyway this evening I tinkered with my iTunes to discover what had caused the problem. Apparently of its own accord my iTunes folder had decided that the author of chapters one to three of 1984 was not in fact George Orwell, but Eddie Van Halen.
I managed to correct the problem, but am left wondering as to whether some Van Halen fan somewhere in the world is now listening to their seminal rock album Down and Out in London and Paris
