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Anniversaries

An interesting week for anniversaries this week. On Monday it was the anniversary of the 1921 truce between the IRA and the British Government in the Irish War of Independence. Of course, that was not quite the end of the trouble and on Tuesday, the (Northern) Irish celebrated Orangemen's Day when they annually try to re-start the war, in commemoration of the Battle of the Boyne, although it's not quite so clear these days what they hope to gain from it. We have Bastille Day tomorrow, which triggered the French revolution in 1789 - and the French remain bloody awkward. Friday brings the anniversary of the Greek Junta/CIA sponsored coup d'etat against Makarios in Cyprus in 1974, which led to the Turkish invasion and so forth.

But more significantly, in cosmological terms, we have the first Neptunian anniversary of the discovery by Earthmen of the planet Neptune. That is, although Earthmen discovered Neptune in 1846, it is only one year, or orbit of the sun, so far as Neptune is concerned. (Apparently, Galileo had seen Neptune some years before but thought it was a star rather than a planet.) Since the recategorisation of Pluto as a dwarf planet in the Kuiper Belt, Neptune is the outermost planet in Earth's solar system.

More info at the redoubtable BBC.

Chickenshed: Slender Threads

A works outing to the Chickenshed Theatre the other day for a preview performance of their Edinburgh Festival Fringe show 'Slender Threads'.

It's a multimedia show involving dance, theatre, pre-recorded audio and visual projection. The production centres on how a family deals with cancer, and the tensions it creates. Not what you might call cheerful. But it is a subject that most of us will have to face up to either directly or indirectly at some time.

As a 'fringe' show, the production necessarily has a small cast and minimal props/scenery and so forth. But a massive production would be inappropriate for the subject matter. Imaginitive use of audiovisual techniques, and convincing performances by the actors maintain the focus and the aim is to get you to think about it. A quite considerable technical achievement. So if you're in Edinburgh between 5 and 28 August, check it out at Zoo Roxy (The Loft), Venue 115, 2 Roxburgh Place, EH8 9SU.

Meanwhile, you could also sponsor or take part in the  Cancer Research 'Race for Life'.

Bromhidrosis

In today's Guardian; "Mosquitoes lured to their death by synthetic odour of smelly feet."

An enterprising scientist, Fredros Okumu, is developing a mosquito trap that emits human odours to entice unsuspecting mozzies towards enzappification and an early death. He's getting some of his funding from Bill Gates so it's good to know all that money Microsoft have had from me over the years is doing something worthwhile.

The news that the exquisite little inconvenience known to us regular folks as stinkfoot has been responsible for one's mozzie bites will no doubt be welcomed by the manufacturers of 'Odour Eaters' sprays and insoles. However, there might be some fun to be gained in our house by leaving El Prez's feet exposed to the atmosphere and lying in wait with one's swatter to zap the buggers as they approach. Provision of the necessary olfactory defence systems notwithstanding.
See also Le Post for a French perspective on FZ's analysis of this phenomenon.

Todd Rundgren

Another in our series of reminders of the existence of Mr Todd Rundgren.

He'll be playing four gigs in England in October. Representatives of the Xorg Collective will be attending the show at the Jazz Cafe on 3 October. Our esteemed chums Lord Pantaloon and Co will be at The Ritz in Manchester on the 1st.

Just one small complaint. The tickets are sold via HMV and there is, as usual, a booking fee and so forth. But a new dodge is that if you get the tickets via e-mail, they charge another pound. A rip off, methinks, as it costs HMV nothing to send an e-mail.

Meanwhile, Todd has an 'official bootleg' album out 'For Lack of Honest Work', a 3-disc set featuring live versions of his 'hits' played by various line-ups over the years.

Hendrix on the Radio

BBC Radio 6 broadcast a one hour documentary on Jimi Hendrix at 3.00 a.m. this morning : Hendrix on the Radio, available for a week on BBC iPlayer. Worth a listen, although there's no new information or insights for the cognoscenti; the focus is on Jimi's sessions for the BBC in 1967, and there's the soundtrack for the famous appearance on the Lulu TV show. The album of Jimi's BBC sessions has been deleted but can still be obtained via Amazon Market Place for about £7.

Hendrix sounds just as good now as he did at the time. Innovative, electrifying, and generally rather groovy.

Wimbledon

Another outing for members of the collective, to Wimbledon for the day.

Not being members of the rich and famous or even the cognoscenti, this involved queueing for tickets so we had a very early start. Up at 4.30 am to drive to the Underground, then take the tube to Southfields, walk to Wimbledon and begin queueing. We arrived at 7.09 am and by 11.11 am were seated in Court No.12. Fortunately it was a nice day, I had an interesting book to read, and so the waiting went by fairly easily.

We watched a complete Ladies Singles match between Wickmayer and Kusnetsova, which was quite a good match and entertaining because Ms Wickmayer, a Belgian of Austrian descent, got very passionate and excitable. She made a most ridiculous noise every time she hit the ball: it sounded like she was saying a secret word, like 'omni'. See video below. The other noise you can hear is Kusnetsova who made this pathetic little 'euuurrr' sound in response to Wickmayer's 'omni'. Wickmayer emerged the victor.

Next up were Melzer and Tursanov, two Gentlemen who had to finish off their match from the previous day. Again, a good match although Melzer was clearly the better player, and won in the end. Tursanov was reliant solely on power rather than craft. By then we had been sitting down for four hours so decided to wander about a bit. The catch with that is by doing so, you lose your seat and will have to queue up all over again either there or elsewhere.

So we saw bits of other matches on the other courts here and there, got bumped into a lot by the general throng milling about, and discovered the extortionate prices in the Wimbledon shop and throughout the concession stands. Seven quid for a glass of Pimms, which was two-thirds ice, and £870 for an 'official' blazer. Caramba. Eventually, the rain came about 7 pm so we left and ended up at 'Ed's Diner' where some high-cholesterol grub was consumed with relish, coffee and a milk shake. Spiffing.

The Wimbledon chaps have got the whole thing well organised, and the stewards are awfully nice. Football clubs could learn a thing or two.

Michael Gove

Michael Gove. He's an annoying little sh*t, isn't he?
(I could go into some depth in respect of the shortfalls and fallacies in Government education policy, not to mention the cack-handed approach of Mr Gove. But what's the point? He's not paying attention.)

Pygmalion

A works outing last Sunday to Shaw's Corner in Ayot St Lawrence, Hertfordshire for an outdoor performance of George Bernard Shaw's play 'Pygmalion'. Particularly apt as Shaw's Corner used to be where the great man lived from 1906 until he donated it to The National Trust on his death in 1950. It's worth a visit if you're at all interested in Shaw - if only to see his revolving shed where he did most of his writing - but there's loads of artifacts and memorabilia lying about. It's pretty much as Shaw left it.

There can't be many people who are not familiar with 'Pygmalion', if only because of the musical 'My Fair Lady' which was based on it. Shaw himself nicked the idea from the Greeks; Pygmalion was the King of Cyrprus who made a statue of Aphrodite which he fell in love with and so he prayed to the goddess to bring it to life. She instructed him to kiss the statue and Hey Presto, Bob's yer uncle. He and the statue went on to have a son who was named Paphos. Thankfully, Shaw left all this rather weird and deviant behaviour out of his play and just stuck to the concept of transformimg something base into something fine and cultured. But through work and technical expertise rather than pagan mumbo jumbo.

I studied 'Pygmalion' in the Fourth Form at school (age 14/15) and was cast as Higgins by my English teacher who observed that I was an 'old cynic' just like Higgins. Harumph; is it any wonder I bear the psychological scars I do?

The performance took place on the patio of the house and the audience were placed on the lawn which slopes downwards from the house. We were invited to bring a picnic and our own chairs. No sound system was in use, so the actors had to project and use their skills to ensure we didn't miss any of the dialogue. Most of the actors managed this well enough, although some were better than others. The chap playing Colonel Pickering, however, didn't look as if he would manage to complete the performance - he was a bit ancient and doddery. But the central protagonists, Higgins and Eliza, did well and were convincing. Higgins was perhaps a little too rambunctious and voluble but that's OK. The fellow playing Alfred Doolittle stumbled occasionally over his lines but, again, he looked like he's probably close to retirement so I'll let him off. Nevertheless he delivered the 'undeserving poor' monologue well enough - this is a particular moment where Shaw slams home his Socialist views in a viscious satire of the Poor Laws. (The Reform Movement and the Progressive Liberals were campaigning for legislation to repeal the Poor Laws at the time Shaw was writing Pygmalion.)

Any road up, a jolly pleasant evening. Loads of our chums were there so we enjoyed a very sociable picnic as well as Shaw's erudite discourse on class, social mobility, poverty and prejudice.

Vultures

Those Wacky Sons of Sun in the financial sector have dreamed up another spiffing wheeze for making money out of nowhere. Which the rest of us will have to pay for in future taxation.

The Greek economy is collapsing and the Greek Government seems likely to default on its loans from the financial sector, which it obtained by selling Government Bonds to the financial sector. Some of the whizz kids who bought these bonds are getting nervous and worry that they won't get their money back, so they are selling on the debt to other whizz kids at a discount, thereby cutting their losses. For example, they might have 100 million Euros of bonds but in order to get something back on them they'll sell them on for 60 million Euros rather than lose everything. The other whizz kid buys these discounted bonds in the hope that the Greek Government gets another bale out from Germany, the IMF, the EU or wherever because they reckon that when there's a bale out they'll be able to demand and get the full face value from the Greek Government and thus make a profit, in this example, of 40 million Euros. A neat trick if you can pull it off.

But where does the money for the bale out come from? Either by taxes raised by the German  Government, EU, IMF or whoever by them borrowing the money from the financial sector. So once again, Governments end up borrowing money from the financial sector to pay back the money they borrowed from the financial sector. And eventually, when the wheels come off, us poor mugs who pay our taxes foot the bill for the whole shebang.

Art

This chap's ancient TV show The Joy of Painting keeps cropping up at odd times on various cable/freeview channels. His creepy delivery is somehow strangely mesmerising. I think he's been dead for some time now.

Anyway, his particular schtick was that he would paint these bucolic landscapes using very few colours and a minimum of strokes, leading you to believe you could do the same and produce a painting fit for any biscuit tin in a mere 28 minutes.

Funk Assessment #29 : Aretha Franklin, The Weight

Now then, now then. What's funky about this record? Besides Aretha herself, that is.

Everything.

Funky slide guitar by Duane Allman, alongside the funky Muscle Shoals house band (more info on Muscle Shoals here), with funky groovemeister Jerry Jemmott on bass. Funky backing vocals, and snappyfunky brass section. Maybe it's the bass that's the most funkiest of the funkageness... or the drums...you decide!

Incidentally, what we also have here is an example of a cover version that was worth doing; Aretha almost makes it into a new song.

I'm Not Happy With (vol.27): Luton Airport

"Were you truly wafted here from Paradise?"

"No mate. Luton Airport."

Right well, to begin with: this place styles itself as 'London Luton'. Listen: it's not in London, and nobody in Luton or London thinks it is. It's in flippin' Bedfordshire, 35 miles from London and there's Hertfordshire in between. Assuming there's no road works, pile-ups, fog or the usual congestion it will take at least an hour to drive from Luton, Bedfordshire to London in London.

And... every time you go there, the layout is different. They've erected some new barriers, changed the access to the car park, moved the pay stations or somesuch. And they make you pay for everything; want a luggage trolley? That'll be a pound, thank you. Want to drop someone off? That'll be a pound, thank you. Picking someone up? One pound, thank you.

And another thing. If you're picking up a disabled person you can't go straight to the 'disabled' bit of the car park, leave the car and find the disabledee. You have to park, get yer ticket, find the cripple then, assuming they've got a Blue Cripples Badge, find a functionary who will do the necessary on your car park ticket to absolve you of the extortionate car park fee - not easy at 1.30 am. Meanwhile, although the airport functionaries will wheel the cripple in a wheelchair to the perimeter of the car park, they don't provide a luggage trolley. They use another wheelchair instead.

And you have to find all this out by yourself, through bitter experience. Harumph.

FabMary's Photos: Gigs

Over at FabMary's blog she mentions the difficulties red lights can cause a person when photographing your favourite teenage rockin' combo. Here's one she took at t'Albert Hall of His Highness Jeff Beck when the lighting guy went all blue. Quite nifty really. I like the way the audience are all sitting enthralled,  reflecting the blue light and, because he has a white light on him, Mr Beck is the only one with any other colour. Just goes to show that all you are ever actually photographing is light.

ASUS K52F-EX963V

About a month ago I invested in a new computer. Despite pressure from some quarters to buy a Macbook Pro, on grounds of budgetary responsibility I opted for a PC-type running Windows 7. The fact is you get more for your money - the equivalent Apple, although probably better qualty and more 'cool', would have cost three times as much. Moreover, there would have been some problems in training El Prez to use a Mac alongside the PC she uses at work. So here it is, and I'm quite chuffed with it, on the whole. An i5 processor, 640 gb hard drive, 4gb RAM. All the usual plugholes including an HDMI socket. Battery life is 2 and a bit hours in normal use. 

Wot I Been Reading

Reading of books has taken a back seat of late as I have been studying Words and Music, a level 3 Open University course as part of a BA (Humanities) Degree. It has been hard going although often enjoyable and fascinating, and I have encountered lots of music (e.g. opera, South Asian, and Renaissance) which hitherto had been a mystery to me. Just at the minute I am struggling with an assignment in which I am required to compare Regis' Missa L'Homme Arme with Byrd's Magnificat. I am bound to say that I find the academic approach to music analysis a tad contrived and indulgent, not to say turgid. But there you go.

Any road up, I have managed to squeeze in a few tomes meanwhile, three of which are:

The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett - the twenty-somethingth book in the Discworld series. The story features Cohen the Barbarian leading The Silver Horde of ageing heroes as they seek to return fire to the Gods, with explosives as interest. The wizards and Lord Vetinari get involved to stop them, using a flying ship and...so on, with hilarious results.

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A Abbott - written in 1884 as a satire on social hierarchy but intriguing as it challenges dimensional perception. He pretty much agrees with me that there may well be lots of dimensions we don't know about. Reassuring to discover this bloke had the same thought as me, one hundred years earlier, and I'm not as mad as the glazed looks I receive would suggest.

Riders of The Purple Sage by Zane Grey - his first successful book and definitive of the genre (ahem). It features religious and sexual oppression, cattle stampedes, shootings, heroism, horses, revenge and big hats.

Meanwhile, the fortnightly London Review of Books has been providing some erudite, incisive and informative reading matter including articles/reviews on subjects such as Laurent Gbagbo, the American Civil War, the Afterlife, higher education, espionage in World War II, and many more. Very stimulating - I only wish I could remember it all.

Entanglification

As you can see, the Entanglification Pixies have paid us another visit and conspired to muddle up a conglomeration of wires that do who knows what. Originally, all that I had in this spot was the loudspeaker, the wires from it to the amplifier, and the mains plug. Somehow or other, the wires have multiplied themselves and added bits of hardware which may or may not be connected to each other in some mysterious way unbeknownst to me. Not only would the Health & Safety Executive not be happy with this disarrangement but, given my ageing and failing eyesight, there is a serious risk I will tread on something here and render it unserviceable. Perhaps those responsible - if they be Earthly beings and not in some way connected with the Pixies and/or Maxwell's Demons - will do something about it.

Just When You Think It's All Over...

Panikos the builder and his chums finished the ramp and have installed a nice metal gate, which is perfectly upright and level. It's a pleasure to see craftsmen doing their jobs right.

So. El Presidente trotted on down to t'Town Hall and told 'em the job is finished and asked please can we have our Completion Certificate. Erm. no. Not yet. They have to inspect it, then do the paperwork and blah-de-blah and so forth, and then we have to pay another 100 Euros. Yer what? Yep, that's right - it's 50 Euros per Completion Certificate and we have to pay for two because we had to submit a revised planning application showing the changed kitchen wall. And after that, can we have our 200 Euro deposit back then? Erm, no. T'Council will be keeping back one third of that to cover potential road works.

Sometimes, you get the feeling they're making it up.

What's The Greek For Jobsworth?

When we are in Cyprus, we sign up for an Internet connection with the estimable state communications institution CYTA, which comes to us via the telephone line. We take out a 'temporary' subscription because it works out cheaper to pay the connection fee each time than to pay for a whole year's subscription. I haven't done the precise calculations but I think we would need to be there for six months at a stretch for it to be more economical otherwise. But if I was going to be there that long, I would investigate other suppliers. Sadly there is no cable in our bit of Larnaca.

Any road up, you'd think it would be straightforward enough to pop along to their office at the beginning and end of one's sojourn in the Isle of Aphrodite to fix this up. But no. When I went to get connected, CYTA refused as I am not the named telephone account holder (my wonderful spouse, El Presidente, is. At the time, she was still in Old Blighty.) They told me I had to get Power of Attorney if I wanted to use their service and borrow their modem. El Prez managed to get round the Jobsworthopoulos syndrome eventually by phoning their HQ from the UK and telling them what was what; HQ agreed to provide t'Internet and advised that she phone the manager of the Larnaca office and confirm that it was alright to deal with me. This was successful although, as insurance, I took my mother-in-law with me on my second visit to CYTA so that she could give them the look of death should there be any difficulty.

Both myself and El Prez have now returned to Blighty so I packed up all the gear and asked my mother-in-law to take it back to the CYTA office and to ask them to disconnect t'Internet. Imagine our bafflement when CYTA refused to accept the return of their modem and to disconnect because she is not the named account holder. Power of Attorney blah-de-blah. So El Presidente has been back on the phone to HQ to advise them once again what is what and to stop being silly billies. We await mother-in-law's report on the success or otherwise of her return visit.

Now That's What I Call a Designer Chair

Merryn Haines-Gadd is an ace furniture/product designer based in Oxfordshire. She also has a corny sense of humour. Featured in this month's Empire magazine is her Director's Chair which recycles old magazines. You could use any old magazines but this is a Director's Chair so she used old cinema magazines. More wizard ideas at her website here.

The Saga Continues

Older readers will recall that the building of our flat here has not gone smoothly, either with the builder or the Larnaca Municipality. Nothing has changed in the months since we were last here.

We were refused a Building Completion Certificate because, inter alaia, we had not built a ramp to facilitate parking the car at the back of the house, so one of our first jobs this visit has been to get said ramp built, thanks to Panikos the other builder. That job done and all other outstanding matters completed, El Presidente contacted t'Council to ask for the Certificate. Of course, the relevant jobsworth was not available so we had to wait another day till he phoned us. Imagine our surprise when he told us we couldn't have the Certificate yet because we had to submit a revised application for planning permission to account for the kitchen wall being two feet from where it was on the original plan. Yer what?

El Presidente was immediately on the phone to Mr Dikiaos the architect to enquire about this alleged deficiency. At first, MrDikiaos claimed that he had prepared a revised application that he had given to us but after a short delay his secretary corrected him to point out that Dikiaos himself had handed it in to t'Council, and quoted the reference number. El Prez was thus back on to Mr Spyrou Jobsworthopoulos to advise him accordingly. "Oh, umm, I'll check it...Oh yes here it is..But you'll have to come in to the office tomorrow and pay us another 120 Euros to process it." Caramba, and other exclamations of disbelief. Meanwhile, of course, Mr Spyrou still has to visit the building to inspect the aforesaid ramp for himself. So it seems touch and go whether we'll get the Completion Certificate this visit.

The irony is that without the Certificate we can't get the Land Registry to amend the Deeds to the property, and while that remains outstanding the flat does not officially exist. And therefore the council can't charge us taxes for it. But what's the betting they try to backdate the taxes once the place is registered?

As for Marinos the psychotic builder (curse his name for the son of a dog), we have avoided contact altogether. But there remain some outstanding aspects such as the failure of the hot water and the inadequate drainage to be resolved. These will form several major bones of contention come September when Marinos (yeccch spit) will be expected to receive his final payment - which he ain't getting! (This one will run and run - Ed).

It's Suppertime Again!

The street outside our house continues to serve a double-purpose as a repair shop for motorcycles during the day and as a restaurant in the evening. Here we see workers from the Parliamentary Office enjoying a dinner of souvlakia etc, and being waited on by Dimitris, the son of George, proprietor of the taverna and second cousin of my mother-in-law. Presumably this was some work-related celebration or bonding exercise. Dimitris was quite chuffed to have these guys as customers as they will no doubt spread the word amongst their colleagues about the sheer excellence of the kebabs on offer.

Boom! Boom! Out Go De Lights!

There we were at about half past ten in the evening sitting quietly going about our reading, blogging, Facebookery and so forth when crackle pop! Off went the power. A quick examination of our neighbours' houses from the outside showed that there was not a generalised power cut and a double check of the fusebox showed nothing internal had blown, so we called in the assistance of the estimable National Power Company.

An engineer turned up at 00:50 am and checked it out, only to report that the junction between our house and the mains had blown so there would have to be some major digging up of the pavement and, in order not to cause severe unrest in the neighbourhood, this would be delayed till the following morning. Fair enough, but instead of 'first thing' the functionaries showed up about 9:00 am whence they sat around till the engineers turned up an hour or so later. The jobs are clearly delineated; you have a crew of (Romanian) sub-contracted labourers who do the digging and you have a crew of qualified electrical engineers who do the fixing of the buzzing electrical bits. And the engineers tell the labourers where to dig.

Any road up, they got on with it and we had power back after about fifteen hours. However, it was by then Friday afternoon and the labourers who fill up the holes don't start jobs that late, or work over the weekend. Reinstatement thus eventually took place a week later. Pictured are the electrical engineers, in the blue overalls, who both look uncannily similar to the famous bullet-headed thespian Ross Kemp. The other guy is one of the Romanians. Quite a genial bunch, all told.

Schadenfreude Vol.27: Gooooooooooaaall!

Man Utd outclassed. Should have held on to Carlos Tevez like what I said.

Hideaway

I don't suppose Freddie King minded that Eric Clapton covered this on The Bluesbreakers album with John Mayall as it probably brought him a not inconsiderable sum in royalty payments. But here he is in the same year,1966, showing how it's done. Note the lady dancing on the piano, something neither Mayall or Clapton ever went in for, but I reckon both their backing bands could learn a thing or two from the jiving, jitterbugging cool cats backing Freddie.

Mosquitos 3 v. Xorg United 1

Not doing so bad so far. Untroubled by the flying bloodsuckers during the night but the little rotters got me yesterday afternoon whilest I slumbered on the balcony on a post-luncheon metaphysical haze induced, no doubt, by the imbiblification of a bottle of KEO... Meanwhile, one of the blighters bought it the previous evening by landing in my cup of coffee while I was on the phone. So that's one coffee-experimenting mosquito removed from the gene pool. Which may or may not be a good thing.

Nearly All Over...

Click on the picture to embiggificate.

'Amazing Stories' comic back in 1939 suggested that it can happen tomorrow, and this fellow says it will. At 6pm on 21 May, wherever you are, starting with a humungous earthquake. Those who The Almighty deems worthwhile will ascend into heaven in 'The Rapture' and the rest will perish in judgement on Earth five months after that.

So, it's goodnight from me!

On the other hand he could be wrong, but it's not the end of the world if he is. See wikipedia for a summary of some previous predictions.

Gravity Probe: NASA Video

Following on from my earlier post on the Gravity Probe B experiment which confirmed that Einstein's prediction that we are in a space-time vortex was correct, here's a short video from NASA.

(Sorry about the tone of the commentary, which is a bit patronising.)

Addendum: This is a three-dimensional visualisation which doesn't attempt to portray the four-dimensional actuality. So, the bump you see isn't just happening at one end of the earth, as it appears here. It's happening in all directions at once.

Greetings, Earthling

Things I Have Successfully Avoided Vol.27: Eurovision 2011

I am pleased to report that I have managed to avoid The Eurovision Song Contest almost completely this year. I have not heard any of the songs or even glimpsed a video of any of the entrants whatsoever. I might have totally avoided it altogether but my mother-in-law unwittingly told me that Azerbijan had won it and that Cyprus had been eliminated in the qualifying rounds. But that is all I know and all I want to know about it, and I wish someone would have the decency to end it forever. A testament to banality.

The Twangmasters

Broadcast last Saturday 14 May at 10.30 am on BBC Radio 4: The Twangmasters, a light-hearted look at what constitutes a good lead guitarist; recommended for anyone who ever fancied himself on the guitar. The usual suspects get a mention - Hendrix, Clapton, BB King, Jeff Beck, Frank Zappa, Steve Vai, Ritchie Blackmore and Chuck Berry etc. One interesting bit of information that was news to me though was that Chuck Berry nicked his guitar intro to 'Johnny B Goode' from Carl Hogan, who was the guitarist in Louis Jordan's band (on the 1946 record "Ain't That Just Like A Woman.")

Notably, however, George Harrison is given special mention as being an ace lead guitarist because he didn't do flashy stuff, he did solos that added to the song and became part of it.

Well Done, Sherlock!

You're probably thinking that the estimable Mervyn King has yet again won the Well Done, Sherlock! award this time around for his startling discovery that inflation will rise over the next twelve months because the price of things like petrol, gas and electricity will be going up.

But no. The winner of the Well Done, Sherlock! award this time goes to that well known brainbox and incisive thinker, The Secretary of State for Business, The Rt Hon Vince Cable MP. He's just realised that his partners in the Coalition Government, the Conservatives, are "ruthless, calculating and thoroughly tribal". None the less, he is going to continue to work with them. Clearly, he likes his comfy seat in the Cabinet.

Not Gonna Fill Ya Fulla Lead, Varmint!

It's good to learn that the US military is doing it's bit to save the planet. The Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey has developed new small arms ammunition, the M855A1 Enhanced Performance Round 5.56mm cartridge, which eliminates 2,000 tons of lead each year from the manufacturing process. Moreover, the new ammunition also provides improvements in hard-target capability, it is more dependable, more consistent performance at all distances, more accurate, with reduced muzzle flash and a higher velocity. The new ammunition is already being deployed in Afghanistan. So that's a win-win scenario then. Although maybe not if you're an Afghanistani insurgent.

Einstein Was A Clever Boy

In 1959, some boffins at Stanford University dreamed up an experiment for testing Einstein's Theory of General Relativity which predicted that the Earth (or any other large mass) distorts space-time by virtue of its gravity and movement. The experiment was adopted by NASA and has received other independent funding too, and it has now delivered its final results which prove conclusively that Mr Einstein was right.
The experiment has taken so long because the boffins have had to wait for technology to catch up with their ideas, but it is basically simple:
"Gravity Probe B (GP-B) is a NASA physics mission to experimentally investigate Einstein’s 1916 general theory of relativity - his theory of gravity. GP-B uses four spherical gyroscopes and a telescope, housed in a satellite orbiting 642 km (400 miles) above the Earth, to measure, with unprecedented accuracy, two extraordinary effects predicted by the general theory of relativity:
1) the geodetic effect - the amount by which the Earth warps the local spacetime in which it resides; and
2) the frame-dragging effect - the amount by which the rotating Earth drags its local spacetime around with it.
GP-B tests these two effects by precisely measuring the precession (displacement) angles of the spin axes of the four gyros over the course of a year and comparing these experimental results with predictions from Einstein’s theory."
(Two-page .pdf with more info here).
So I guess it's not a Theory any longer. And it shows that what we think of as time is affected by gravity. And time is not an absolute. (More on that story later).
Note: Opportunity Cost Analysis: This experiment has cost about $750 million, which is about £460 million, spread over 52 years. This equates to about six weeks' worth of war in Afghanistan for the UK and about nine days of air strikes/cruise missiles launched by the USA against Libya.

Alternatives

Margaret Thatcher (yah boo hiss) once famously said, when implementing her misbegotten and nasty neo-liberal capitalist financial policies that "There Is No Alternative". Of course, as enny fule kno, there was, and her policies buggered everything up for a lot of people and set the scene for the financial crisis of 2007/2008 (deregulation etc), while making things better for a few people who were already pretty well off. Her successors are doing the same today, claiming that there is no alternative to the cuts in public expenditure, which will disproportionately affect those who can least afford it and who had least to do with the causes of the financial crisis. Meanwhile, the bastards in the financial markets who are to blame are protected and are getting richer all the time.

However, today we are being offered the chance of an alternative of sorts through the referendum on electoral reform. The Alternative Vote system is not the best, and it won't necessarily produce better representation for the electorate as a whole. But it is a step in the right direction and better than the existing First Past The Post system. In 1979, when Thatcher came to power, the Tories got 43% of the votes from a 76% turnout so only 33% of the elctorate voted for Thatcher's government; not quite the mandate she claimed to have. In 2010, the Tories got 36% of a 65% turnout which is only 23.5% of the electorate voting for Cameron's government. Definitely not a mandate for the current wave of half-baked, misconceived and doctrinal economic and social policies being inflicted upon us.

Moreover, given that David Cameron, the British National Party and the Foxhunt Association (amongst others) are against any change and that the 'No' campaign has been funded chiefly by the financial sector, I think we can see who will benefit from keeping the present system and who fears any change.

Rage Against The School Band

I guess this means that Rage Against The Machine should now be considered mainstream.


Head-Banging School Band Plays Rage Against The Machine - Watch more Funny Videos

Grubs Up!

 

Trout, Grilled Mushrooms, and Pork Chops

(see below)

at

The Mill, Kakopetria

Cyperus Alternifolius: The Mill, Kakopetria

Cyperus alternifolius, syn. Cyperus racemosus is also known as the umbrella plant or umbrella sedge. It is a perennial plant which is native to Madagascar, Mauritius and The Réunion island. I found a large specimen growing at The Mill restaurant in Kakopetria, Cyprus, and took a cutting. It's really easy to propagate: just cut a healthy stem about 10 cm from the top, trim the leaves to about 2 cm and place it upside down in a jar of water. After a week or so, roots will start to appear and a week or so later green shoots will begin to grow. Let the shoots grow a couple of cm, then plant in a small pot of compost. Keep it well watered - never let it dry out - and give it plenty of light. This cutting was taken last November and is now flourishing here in the UK five months later after one re-potting.

If you're ever in or near Kakopetria, The Mill restaurant is worth a visit. Their speciality is grilled trout in a butter, lemon and garlic sauce, from a local trout farm. The rest of the grub on offer is pretty good too, especially the grilled mushrooms and the pork chops, but don't bother with the seafood salad - you're in the mountains. The landlord is a loquacious fellow; a Cypriot who emigrated to England and ran a restaurant in Maryland Road, Wood Green *. He  eventually moved back to Cyprus where he opened the Maryland Restaurant in Kakopetria - where he introduced his Trout Speciality - before acquiring and redeveloping the Mill.
* a couple of streets along from Spencer Avenue, where my grandfather lived. Small world.

Stravinsky in 3D

A novel works outing experience  recently for members of the Xorg Collective to The Royal Festival Hall for a performance by The Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Iland Volkov, of Igor Stravinsky's 'The Rite of Spring', with dancer Julia Mach.

Cognoscenti will be aware that 'The Rite of Spring' was originally written as a ballet, choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, a Polish-Ukrainian who grew up in Russia and trained at the Imperial Ballet. Nijinsky hitched up with producer Sergei Dhiagelev, with whose company The Ballets Russe he travelled to Paris, whence occurred the first performance of 'The Rite of Spring' in collaboration with Mr Stravinsky in 1913. Apparently Igor and Vaslav did not get along too well; Vaslav thought Igor was a patronising old grump and Igor thought Vaslav was a musical dunce. Be that as it may, Nijinsky's choreography broke down barriers as he dreamed up modern dance to complement Stravinsky's modern music. However, it seems he went a little too far and mimed autoerotic behaviour at some point; in 1913 this was a bit challenging for your average ballet audience and a riot broke out in the theatre. But in the long run, the controversy helped publicise Stravinsky's music, and 'The Rite of Spring' in particular. It has subsequently been performed more as a piece of music on its own merit rather than  necessarily as a ballet.

Any road up, with the recent development of 3D digital technology this chap called  Klaus Obermaier has devised a new way of making the piece visual. This involves a lone dancer being projected live in 3D onto a huge screen above the orchestra, with added digital effects. The whole thing is choreographed; the dancer's movements are coordinated with the music and the computer operator tweaks the images accordingly, with the result that the audience sees , with the aid of 3D glasses, some weird and groovy stuff floating about above and in front  of the stage.
Although the audio-visual concept of the performance is quite novel, the choreography itself was not especially challenging or innovative nor likely to cause a riot. But we got some quirky moments and elements of surrealism along with stretches of what were essentially pretty psychedelic far-out effects. I can't say that the visuals were representational of 'The Rite of Spring' as Nijinsky's ballet reportedly was, being concerned primarily with pagan fertility rites, but it looked good nonetheless and it will be worthwhile trying further experiments in this genre. Obermaier went mostly for the abstract rather than the literal.
The technical set-up required that a blacked out platform was needed for the dancer. This was erected on the right of the stage, taking up the space usually occupied by the basses who were consequently relocated to the left, squashed in behind the first violins. Other sections of the orchestra were likewise relocated and squeezed in, with the result that we didn't get the full dynamics of the symphony orchestra.  The sound came across as two-dimensional as a result - focused within the plane of the stage rather than leaping out  at us.  Future performances should be given somewhere with a bigger stage! However, this inconvenience did not deter the orchestra and conductor from giving the music a fair old seeing to and their performance was pretty darn good.
Prior to the 3D business, the orchestra played two supporting pieces; 'Tuning Up' by Edgard Varese, and 'Lontano' by Gyorgy Ligeti. These were performed wonderfully. Conductor and orchestra played the Varese piece with the right amount of jollity and slyness appropriate for Varese's take on one of classical music's rituals, and with the delicacy and concentration needed for the ethereal Ligeti. Full marks to them, but I'm deducting points for the noisy air conditioning in the Festival Hall which intruded, particularly during 'Lontano'. A bonus point for not charging extra for the 3D glasses though.

George Martin

Fans of Bernard Cribbins will want to be in front of their TV sets next Monday at 9:00 pm when BBC2 will be showing a documentary about the highly esteemed record producer Sir George Martin. Amongst Sir George's many hits are Nellie the Elephant, Hole in the Ground, and Any Old Iron. Bernard Cribbins is one of the many artists featured paying tribute to Sir George, who also include surviving members of popular Liverpudlian beat combo The Beatles. More info at the BBC.

You Are Being Followed

Owners of iPhones and iPads may or may not be aware that their device keeps a constantly updated record of its location. As far as anyone knows, this information is not transmitted back to Apple or the CIA, but if someone gets their hands on either your mobile device or the computer that you sync it to, they can track your movements. You can get an open source application  iPhone Tracker here, so even if you don't know where you're going you can find out where you've been.

Top Five Beatles B Sides

Whilst listening to The Beatles Pastmasters compilation t'other day, I was droning on about how generally brilliant the Beatles B sides were. Not merely throwaway rubbish, as B sides had generally been pre-Beatles, but genuine songs/recordings that stood on their own merits. Indeed on several occasions Beatles' singles were released as double A sides because neither they nor t'management could decide which side was better or more likely to get bigger sales (e.g. Day Tripper/We Can Work It Out).
Fabmary thus challenged me to come up with the five best Beatles B sides. This is an impossible task and on any particular day I might give you a different list. But here goes, in chronological order, what I think today:

I'm Down - t'other side of Help! (1965). 

A proper rock 'n' roll record reflecting The Beatles' background as rockers influenced by Little Richard, Chuck Berry and so forth. Complete with semi-comprehensible lyrics, manic organ and technically inept but spiffing guitar solo.

Rain -  the flip side of Paperback Writer (1965). 

It was around this time that The Beatles moved on from simple pop songs mostly about being in or out of love. Bob Dylan and marijuana were the principal causes, although I suspect Lennon was always inclined more towards Edward Lear than he was to Shakespeare's sonnets. Excellent drumming from Ringo, spiffing bass, and backwards tape at the end. Recorded at the same time as the Revolver LP.

Baby You're a Rich Man -  hidden behind All You Need Is Love (1967).

John and Paul attended the Technicolour Dream 'happening' at Alexandra Palace, which was a significant event in terms of the development of the hippy culture in London in 1967. All the beautiful people were there. Hey, peace, love and dope, maaan. This song is the result, and was recorded and mixed in one six-hour session. Loads of groovy far out sounds, including a clavioline keyboard slowed down to sound like an Indian oboe, and the bass intro sounds reminiscent of that bit on 'Reach Out I'll Be There' by The Four Tops just before he says "hah!". Originally intended for the Yellow Submarine soundtrack.

Revolution -  flip side of 'Hey Jude' (1968).
This is what happens after John Lennon has heard Jimi Hendrix, Cream and others in the blues and rock explosion of 1967/68. Lennon's guitar intro is a direct take on Elmore James' Dust My Broom, brought to everyone's notice by Fleetwood Mac, (see also Yer Blues on The White Album) and the lyrics are a response to the militant hippies who were trying to get Lennon to sign up.

Don't Let Me Down -   B side of 'Get Back' (1969).
Both songs were recorded on 28 January 1969, two days before the famous rooftop concert, The Beatles had been joined by Billy Preston on keyboards and he duly got a credit. John makes a beautiful song from some very straightforward chords, but sneaking in a major seventh for contrast, and he's singing about his new love Yoko who, he hopes, won't abandon him as his mother did. Heart on his sleeve and so forth.

Busy Doing Nothing

(from Accidie)

You've probably heard of the doctrine of the Seven Deadly Sins, set out in paragraph 1866 of The Catechism of the Catholic Church. There is no direct Biblical source for this but the concept is apparently based on Proverbs 6:16 and expanded upon in Paul's Epistle to The Galatians 5:19. This is one of the aforementioned transgressions with which the Church berates its followers: 

The deadliest sin, accidie (or acedia) is often mistranslated as Sloth, and interpreted as simple laziness. But the original definition is more complex. In modern terms, it is a combination of depression, distraction and despair which leads to the inability to do anything at all. I find that as St Paul said, I do not what I should and do what I should not. But why? I was reading about fear of failure and fear of success, but the roots are deeper.

Click on the link and read the whole article; it's just a couple of paragraphs and it will only take a couple of minutes. I think most of us have probably experienced this phenomenon to a greater or lesser extent and I doubt if we've got a proper explanation for it or, if we have, that it will be the same as anyone else's. Accidie often manifests itself as displacement activity - you find yourself doing something that you persuade yourself isn't a total waste of time when actually you've got plenty of stuff that ought to be done. But somehow, you don't want to get on and do it and you find excuses not to, then you get depressed because you haven't done it, and so forth. Eventually you reach a crisis. No doubt there are some smartypants out there who don't know what I'm talking about, which is probably a good thing, or whose reaction will be to say "Snap out of it and pull yourself together." But there you go.

Being a fan of post-modern irony, I find it amusing that the Accidie website consists of only this short article about accidie. And, moreover, that comments are closed.

Mike Stern on the Radio

Drop everything and listen to this programme on the BBC iPlayer, or I want to know the reason why. BBC Radio 3 Jazz Library
Note: It is only available until 5 pm Saturday 16th.
Note 2: The Sage Building in Gateshead where this Jazz Festival took place was funded by the Arts Council, the European Regional Development Fund, the Regional Development Agency, Gateshead Council, and the Lottery. With the exception of the latter, these sources of funding are under threat thanks to the neo-liberalist economic ideology of the present Government. And Jeremy Hunt, the Culture Secretary, doesn't like the BBC either. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Splice The Mainbrace: Trouble At Sea

Trouble At Sea.
- a poem, on the occasion of Pierre's visit to Whitby,
  by Alfredo von Widdlesworth-Shortarse.

Cap'n Pierre and his not-so trusty crew
Set sail from old Whitby;
It was nearly, but not quite, a quarter to two.
"Avast there ye pox-ridden lubbers!"
Cried the mean, grizzly Cap'n.
"Look lively, ye lazy fat buggers!"
 "We've whales to catch, the North sea to cross, afore the day's out,"
Cursed the Captain.
"So there's no time for youse lot to be hangin' about!"
The crew shuffled together and, as a man, stared back,
Scurvy knaves and veterans
Of the devil-spawned Captain's most recent ship wrack.
"That's all very well", said Old Pegleg Pat
Shifting from side to side,
"But from where I'm stood it's not as simple as that."
"There be whales a-plenty a-swimmin' in the sea,
And seagulls flying above.
But there be a problem ahead for them such as we."
"And, pray, what be that?" asked Cap'n Pierre,
His eyebrow askance at Old Pat.
"We's all shipshape as far as I be aware."
"Well," says Old Pegleg, "You daft pantaloon,
As you know perfectly well,
You ain't got no licence for your flippin' harpoon!"
"It's in the post, I tell ye," spat Cap'n Pierre
Staring at Pegleg with hate in his eye,
"And if the Customs don't like it, see if I care."
"Pull the other one!" says Old Pegleg Pat
Forgetting for a moment
That she'd hit the deck if the Cap'n did that.
The crew looked from Pegleg to Cap'n and back,
Uncertainty reigned, fear crept in.
Unlicensed whaling! Alas and alack!
Conflicted by fear and love for their Captain
(The Keeper of The Banjo
That was once owned by Clapton).
Pegleg looked grim, and wobbled her knee,
As the Cap'n, all smiles, pleaded
"Now come on lads, worse things happen at sea."
"We's old salts and form-fillin' don't matter!
Don't listen to Pegleg,
She's a borin' old fart, and mad as a hatter!"
At this foul epithet Pat felt somewhat insulted
She girded her loins
And, hopping to starboard, caused the fate that resulted.
The ship toppled over and turned upside down,
Capsized and not floating.
All hands fell to sinking; they feared they would drown.
But just at that moment, a whale did appear
It spewed from it's spout
"Oy! you lot! You can't park that boat here!"
Bad luck was the Captain's old friend, but he hadn't known
He'd steered his vessel
Into a three lined compulsory no parking zone.
Bedraggled, disgruntled and soaked to the skin,
Pierre and crew were landed
In nearby Scarborough, much to their chagrin.
With no ship and no money, his sea-faring future was lost
A parking fine and clamping fee:
Cap'n Pierre had no hope ever to meet with the cost.
Bankrupt and bereft he stared alone at the moon,
Pegleg had warned him:
You shouldn't go whaling with an unlicenced harpoon.

-  © Doggerel and Doggerel Inc. (SA) 2011

The results are in!

That's it for another year of University Challenge. Magdalen College Oxford were crowned champions after they trounced York University 290 to 85 points.
How did the Haines family do? I hear you cry. Well, let's just have a look shall we.

Mum managed to get 9 starter questions, so she won.

April Piscis Piscis Forsit

The Xorg Collective awoke this morning to a disturbing crisis. Our goldfish was swimming upside down in the wrong direction...

Wilberforce, bless his little cotton socks, is generally a well-behaved goldfish and swims, as he should, in a clockwise direction round and round and round pausing intermittently to nibble at a weed or snaffle a flake of Old Mother Slapknicker's Gourmet Fish Food. He might, occasionally, stop to investigate the sunken treasure chest that lurks at the bottom of his tank but he has never, to our knowledge, disorientated himself as a result of these digressions. He seemed otherwise to be in fine fettle, greeting us with his usual good morning bloop bloop bloop and cheery wave of his fin. El Presidente feared the worst-case scenario and suggested that perhaps little Wilberforce had contracted aqua tergiversatio australis, a condition caused by gravity working in the opposite direction in the antipodes, but we know for sure that Wilberforce has not been in contact with any piscean ozzies. Perhaps there has been a blunder at the Old Mother Slapknicker's processing plant and the wrong variety of flake has been shipped to our local fish emporium and we have been feeding him the antipodean version. Although possible, it seems unlikely that Wilberforce was abducted by aliens last night, probed, and then returned to his tank the wrong way round; there is no evidence of collateral splash damage.

Any road up, we have embarked on a course of corrective therapy and installed signs in Wilberforce's tank pointing him in the right direction and have been making sure that his food can only be accessed if approached from the left. No sign of improvement yet but we remain optimistic.

RDNDNT: The Day of The Cull

Today being the last day of the 2010/11 financial year, this will be the last day in service of all the unfortunate wretches in the public sector whose jobs have vanished as a result of the coalition Government's financial policy, aimed at reducing the 'structural deficit'. Losing these jobs gives  savings for the 2011/12 financial year, notwithstanding that many of the poor sods will have to sign on and start claiming benfits of one kind or another. Unless, of course, the Chancellor's 'Budget for Growth' produces some quick results and they can get new jobs in the private sector. You never know; stranger things have happened at sea.

El Presidente has the privilege of being employed by our local authority and sufficient luck to protect her from the first wave of cuts; the funding for her job is in place for at least 2011/12, but who knows thereafter. The unit in which El Prez works provides 'non-statutory' services so they've been first in the firing line and 16 out of 39 staff are being shown the door today. Technically, they are all taking 'voluntary redundancy' but actually the choice is volunteer or be fired anyway.

It will be a somewhat bizarre occasion. We are all used to people leaving or retiring and having a farewell 'do' of some sort with an embarassing speech by the boss. But I wonder how the boss is going to handle saying farewell to 16 people all at once? If he gives each a little speech, it will take upwards of an hour so maybe it will require a more imaginitive approach. But in any case, El Prez has baked some cakes to take along so it won't be totally glum.

Oh! What A Lovely War!

So. Here we go again. A no-fly zone which is in no way intended to bring about regime change and ensure future oil supplies are maintained, but is aimed purely at 'protecting civilians'. Hmmm.

The UK is employing Tornado GR4 aircraft, manufactured by BAE Systems, for its air strikes in Libya. It is difficult to obtain precise details of how much each of these airplanes cost, given the problems in attributing historical development costs and the natural tendency towards secrecy amongst The Powers That Be. But in 1979, James Wellbeloved, the Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State advised that the Tornado 'air defence variant' unit production cost was  £10.7 million (Hansard HC Deb 21 February 1979 vol 963 c185W). Adjusting for inflation using the RPI gives a comparable figure for 2010 of £41 million. The Ministry of Defence calculate the cost per flying hour for the Tornado is £35,000 (Hansard HL Written Answers 25 November 2010HL 3481,3482). So that's a pretty penny or two we've spent in sending aircraft to Libya from the UK, even before we count the cost of the munitions and training the air crew. I accept, of course, that these aircraft are not used solely for bombing Libya but to bomb other places too, so the costs should be seen in a broader bombing context.
The UK has also been firing Tomahawk Cruise Missiles, manufactured by the Raytheon Company at their Tucson, Arizona facility, from its submarines. According to the US Navy, the cost to them for these little beauties is $569,000 but I would guess that excludes development costs which would take it up to $1 million or more. I have not been able to find out how much the USA charges the UK for each missile, however. And who knows how much it costs to keep the submarines going?
Tomahawk missiles are snazzy; you simply input some GPS coordinates into its computer and off it goes. But let's hope its Sat Nav system is better than most and avoids low bridges. Moreover, you can reprogram the missile in-flight, and it can report back via an on-board camera on target conditions. One thing worries me though; it uses Windows software, which gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Blue Screen of Death'.

Libya has been ruled by the Romans, the Venetians, the Ottoman Turks, the Italians, the British and the French. Meanwhile, they've fought amongst themselves and for many years were famous for making a living as The Barbary Pirates. The USA launched a war against them in the 19th Century. Modern Libya was established by the Italian colonists and, after World War II the Brits and the French established a Kingdom which Gaddafi rebelled against as a 27 year-old. Ethnically, they are Arabs, Berbers, Touaregs, and Tebou consisting of some 140 tribes and/or clans most of whom are Sunni Moslems of one sort or another. Gaddafi is a Berber from the Qaddadfa tribe, apparently. But it seems Libya has never been what one might call a democracy, or even that the concept means much to yer average Touareg. But the UK has either been selling them arms or buying their oil, or both, intermittently since 1943.

So there you have it. All that money and all that technology to protect one lot of Libyan tribesmen from another.

...ho hum

Who's That Up There With Todd?

As you know, it is our policy at Xorg Inter-Galactic to remind everyone periodically of the existence of Todd Rundgren.  He is pictured here in 1974 helping out a struggling English blues guitarist who over-reached himself during a concert in Madison Square Gardens and began to run out of frets.

I Don't Want To Worry You But...

You know about the major earthquake in Japan and so forth, but if you go here you can follow the progress of various disasters that are happening in assorted locations around the Earth. It seems that earthquakes are happening all over the place: the West Coast of the USA, Alaska, New Zealeand, Greece and the Balkans, Portugal, Kazakhstan etc etc. The symbol with the white squiggly lines means earthquake. That seems like a lot of tremors in one day...

The site is run by some Hungarians: the 'National Association of Radio Distress-Signalling and Infocommunications', abbreviated to RSOE. Not only do they monitor earthquakes but they also note other mishaps such as volcano eruptions, hazchem alerts, technological disasters and floods etc. Apparently, a bunch of teenagers in Minnesota are hospitalised as a result of a hazchem disaster after imbibing some chemicals bought over the internet, and there's been a bee swarm or two elsewhere. A tropical depression looms off Madagascar.

Not much happening in Scandanavia.

Harry and Carlo Sherlock

Footballers and their managers are reknowned for their insightful and erudite comments  about the game, the administrative authorities and the relative merits or otherwise of individual players, managers and referees.  Occasionally they will muse upon the meaning of life and things in general, and some have been known to probe deep philosophical and sociological issues. A minority might even go on to make a living out of joining two or more sentences together into a coherent whole, without assistance. But we doff our caps today to a couple of sparkling geniuses who have not only  contributed much to the mangling of language but who have also revealed a rare ability to state the bleeding obvious in order to keep us up to date with the intricacies of a knockout tournament.

Harry Redknapp (blessings be upon him) tells us that "We're in the last eight and we're looking forward to the next round. You can't pick who you draw - we were in the toughest group but we won that." And Carlo 'The Eyebrows' Ancelotti affirms that "The draw will decide which team we have to play."
There you have it. The teams left in the contest are drawn randomly against one another and have no choice in their opponents!

Well Done, My Footballing Sherlocks!

[prompted by Annegrump]

26th March March

The Trades Union Congress (TUC) is organising a protest on 26 March in London against the Coalition Government's programme of spending cuts, and in favour of alternative approaches to rectifying the so-called structural deficit. (See box in the top right-hand corner.)

The essential elements of the TUC's alternatives are:

• a crackdown on tax avoidance
• a Robin Hood tax on banks and finance
• policies and time to let economic growth and full employment raise the tax that will close the deficit

You can read a .pdf setting out the TUC's case more fully here.

Seeing as Mervyn King (ohnot'imagain!) agrees  that the public sector is not the underlying cause of the financial crisis, and that it is unfair that those who did not cause it have to pay for it, perhaps we will see him on the 26 March march. What would be extra interesting is to see how the Police respond to the protest now that they too are being told they've got to pay for it through reductions in pay and allowances. Perhaps they'll join the march rather than enkettleify it.

Well Done, Sherlock! - Mervyn Strikes Again

The estimable Mervyn King has established a record in the Xorgosphere. Within three days of being awarded the Well Done, Sherlock! award, Mervyn did it again and made a further statement of the bleeding obvious that the rest of us had twigged several centuries ago! Apparently, Mervyn has just noticed that banks tend to 'exploit gullible or unsuspecting customers'.  Moreover, Mervyn has spotted that banks take a short term view and merely want to maximise profits.  And  they meanwhile carry on paying themselves big bonuses regardless of the the problems they have caused because they know they are too big to fail and will be bailed out by the state. A staggering insight, Mervyn.

You have to laugh...

British Pie Week

This is basically a marketing activity  by Jus-Rol, the manufacturers of ready-made pastry, but this week is British Pie Week.  Marketing ploy or not, we here at Xorg Inter-Galactic like pies and  wish to encourage everyone to indulge themselves and make and eat more pies.  I realise this may  raise a quandary for people of a traditional fundamentalist Christian bent as today is the first day of Lent and you're supposed to be fasting and self-sacrificing and so forth. But there you go, you pays yer money and you takes yer choice.

Some people might be put off the idea of making pies because they suffer from pastry-anxiety. Well, there's no need to - you can buy pastry ready-made. You don't have to use Jus-Rol pastry, other brands are available.

Well Done, Sherlock!

Some people catch on quick, others take a little while. I know I'm not exactly Mr Dynamo when it comes to speed of thought but I (and many others) had this one figured out some time ago:

Whilst being questioned by the House of Commons Treasury Committee yesterday, Mervyn King, the Governor of The Bank of England, said that people made unemployed, and businesses bankrupted, during the [financial] crisis had every reason to be resentful and voice their protest. He told the Treasury select committee that the billions spent bailing out the banks and the need for public spending cuts were the fault of the financial services sector.

"The price of this financial crisis is being borne by people who absolutely did not cause it," he said. "Now is the period when the cost is being paid, I'm surprised that the degree of public anger has not been greater than it has."

As reported in The Guardian, King has repeatedly pointed the finger at the City since the crisis erupted in 2007, but this was the first time he blamed bankers for the coalition's spending cuts.  Flash Mervyn thus gets the Well Done, Sherlock award for pointing out the bleeding obvious. 

So, it wasn't the previous Government, or public sector pensions, or benefit scroungers after all.  Wouldn't it  be nice if The Treasury Committee were to act on this and suggest to the Government that perhaps the financial sector should be paying more taxes to make good the public spending cuts rather than paying themselves ridiculous bonuses?

Meanwhile we shall award Mervyn the inaugural special sub-category for distinctive achievement entitled What Took You So Long?

Cheer Up, Mate! Could Be Worse!