It’s been an...interesting few days in the news. In the space of 72 hours, the highly efficient and probing recruitment analysis process which all aspiring police cadets have to undergo achieves a notable milestone by approving a boy racer near Mold who kills two people and is sent to jail for six years, a renowned Welsh Surgeon - Mohamed Bahaa Madkour - is struck off for lying on medical records, with the GMC noting that if you’re unlucky enough to be treated in the ear nose and throat department at Ysbyty Gwynedd, you might be better off with a short break in a Turkish prison, a Prestatyn chap is alleged to have tried to hammer his pregnant girlfriend to death while she was sleeping and an ambulance in St Asaph was stoned by yobs.
And who says North Wales isn’t a wonderful place to live?
If, however, we look at each incident dispassionately, it’s intriguing to ask if there’s any sort of commonality. The boy racer incident was stupidity, although it’s tempting to ask why the searching police application form failed to spot that they were hiring an idiot, the surgeon was lying to protect himself, his reputation and his livelihood, the alleged murderer was simply selfish, greedy and sociopathic (if it’s all true, of course) and the ambulance incident - well, curiously, that’s probably the most worrying. Putting aside the fact that the last two incidents might well have been investigated by lunatic drivers who had managed to squeeze through the somewhat flawed police recruitment process and narrowly avoided slaughtering half a dozen elderly drivers, there’s nothing new about liars, murderers and idiots; every village has one - or several, if your village has a population of more than 500, apparently.
No, it’s the yobs stoning the ambulance which paints a clearer picture of society today. Blue flashing lights apart, everything about an ambulance is designed to evince feelings of concern, compassion and worry among the community. Attacking a vehicle which may well be transporting someone near death to a place of safety and support reveals a serious weakness in the socialisation process the attackers should have undergone. But it’s these sorts of actions that lie behind several of the major national news stories in the past couple of weeks. The major political parities talk about ‘getting tough’ on ‘yob culture’, something of a misnomer in itself, and the Labour party has - finally - realised that action has to be taken in respect of teenage girls who expect to be housed, simply because they’re pregnant. The Tories, on the other hand, apparently subject everything to the ‘Daily Mail test’, which, as a tacit admission that policy is driven by one sector of the media, is also a fairly sure sign that absolutely nothing of any significance will ever get done.
Perhaps it’s time to give someone else the chance of Government.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Beacons
The news that a four year old survived being hit by a car at Kinmel Bay is extremely welcome. McKenzie McKillop’s right femur was broken in the accident, when he was hit by a Vauxhall Vectra on Roseview Crescent in Kinmel Bay. He’d crossed the road, but dropped some jelly cola bottles and went back to get them, last Tuesday, when a car was unable to avoid him. Paramedics took him to Ysbyty Glan Clwyd, Bodelwyddan where he is still being treated in Rupert Ward.
Children - especially boys - are involved in far too many accidents on the roads, and four year olds have little comprehension of the risks. However, what was particularly welcome - and unusual - in this case was the mother’s reaction.
Speaking from his bedside yesterday his mum, Annwen, said she was grateful to the unnamed driver of the silver Vectra, who stopped at the scene, for driving so carefully that her son was not more seriously hurt.
This is in marked contrast to the usual rush by parents to try and blame anyone but themselves in this sort of accident. But that's not all. There’s another interesting aspect to the case: according to the Daily Post, A Good Samaritan – Paul, from a Tattoo parlour in Kinmel Bay – had put McKenzie in the recovery position.
Annwen added: "I thought ‘Oh my goodness, I don’t know what to do’. But Paul said he’s OK. He has a fractured right femur It’s completely broken. He has to stay in hospital for six weeks. The doctors hope it will heal by itself. If it doesn’t, he will have to have pins in it."
Paul’s excellent first aid training undoubtedly helped to mitigate the consequences of the accident for the child, and Annwen’s remarkable attitude in not seeking to apportion blame but rather to thank everyone she could stands out like a beacon in a society which increasingly sees the tendency to claim ‘rights’ and accept few ‘responsibilities’. In fact, both of the individuals in this story are examples of what we - as a society - should be striving towards. One is clearly prepared to ensure he has trained in first aid, something which most of us should seriously consider, and the mother sets an example from which many parents could learn. Let’s hope the little boy recovers well and ends up a little wiser about roads, none the worse for his ordeal and with a full supply of jelly cola bottles.
Children - especially boys - are involved in far too many accidents on the roads, and four year olds have little comprehension of the risks. However, what was particularly welcome - and unusual - in this case was the mother’s reaction.
Speaking from his bedside yesterday his mum, Annwen, said she was grateful to the unnamed driver of the silver Vectra, who stopped at the scene, for driving so carefully that her son was not more seriously hurt.
This is in marked contrast to the usual rush by parents to try and blame anyone but themselves in this sort of accident. But that's not all. There’s another interesting aspect to the case: according to the Daily Post, A Good Samaritan – Paul, from a Tattoo parlour in Kinmel Bay – had put McKenzie in the recovery position.
Annwen added: "I thought ‘Oh my goodness, I don’t know what to do’. But Paul said he’s OK. He has a fractured right femur It’s completely broken. He has to stay in hospital for six weeks. The doctors hope it will heal by itself. If it doesn’t, he will have to have pins in it."
Paul’s excellent first aid training undoubtedly helped to mitigate the consequences of the accident for the child, and Annwen’s remarkable attitude in not seeking to apportion blame but rather to thank everyone she could stands out like a beacon in a society which increasingly sees the tendency to claim ‘rights’ and accept few ‘responsibilities’. In fact, both of the individuals in this story are examples of what we - as a society - should be striving towards. One is clearly prepared to ensure he has trained in first aid, something which most of us should seriously consider, and the mother sets an example from which many parents could learn. Let’s hope the little boy recovers well and ends up a little wiser about roads, none the worse for his ordeal and with a full supply of jelly cola bottles.
Monday, 28 September 2009
Llandudno's got talent
In the UK we seem to be obsessed with talent shows or - more precisely - with seeing those who believe they have talent, crashing publicly and embarrassingly in front of a largely sympathetic audience, at least in the case of the X Factor. There’s something about watching the vulnerable, the self-deluded and the plain strange putting their all on the line to win their two minutes of fame before the judges condemn them to obscurity - or worse still, life on the GMTV sofa. Yet it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that these shows wouldn’t exist but for our insatiable desire to see the unedifying sight of an over-weight, cross-eyed man with a wooden leg and sob-story to match vainly attempting to transform something by Whitney Huston into a remake of the Pinky and Perky opening number. It’s similarly easy to forget that these same shows make a lot of money for their owners and broadcasters, particularly the magic 18 - 30 audience, for whom the broadcasters compete with indecent enthusiasm.
However dreadful the carefully selected acts we love to watch seem, the ability to perform well on stage is something that’s not acquired easily. The bottle-juggling gymnast who’s such a hit at well-lubricated family parties can easily appear less the epitome of dynamic stage presence and more the confused, inadequate and just plain lost product of an over indulgent family, once they step out onto the nightmare of public humiliation that is the TV talent competition.
Llandudno, of course, has a long and honourable history of talent shows; in fact, Carneades himself was once the winner of the Outspan-sponsored Alex Munro talent competition in Happy Valley at age 11. But although - sadly - Alex is no longer with us, and the once proud Happy Valley Theatre is now nothing but a rather desolate car park, in the centre of Mostyn Street on the front ‘lawn’ of Trinity Church a massive, double-sided notice board proclaims “Trinity Players Entertain” and their schedule of concerts. This stalwart band of performers have been playing to packed houses throughout the summer; in fact, in the past four weeks, they’ve had to shut the doors early and turn folk away from what has become widely recognised as the best amateur production in town.
It’s a commitment that isn’t to be taken lightly, however. They start rehearsing on Sunday afternoons in February, and continue until June, when their relentless schedule of performances, which involves a show every Wednesday night from June 1st until September 30th, commences. As their name suggests they’re not simply singers, but also actors, with a strong comedy element to their shows.
Some of you may now be wondering just why so much of today’s article is being devoted to this. It’s actually quite simple. All the amateur entertainment groups in Llandudno, bar the Llandudno Youth Theatre, suffer from the same problem: a lack of youngsters. Now, does this mean that youngsters here are not talented? Actually, no. There are many outstanding young singers, actors and dancers in Llandudno and Colwyn Bay, but often it’s not obvious to them how they break into groups like Trinity Players. Some, of course, feel the commitment to a show every Wednesday evening for four months is too much, but in fact it’s not quite as bad as it seems at first glance. What it entails is being on stage in front of an enthusiastic audience between eight o’clock and ten o’clock, one night a week, and earning invaluable experience, indispensable to anyone thinking of a career in entertainment or who simply enjoys performing in front of an audience.
And, best of all, you can do it in the knowledge that every show is helping charities throughout the area. So, if you know someone who might be interested in this opportunity, or who might simply want to be on stage, then tell them to drop a line to the MD, Trinity Players, c/o Trinity Church, Mostyn Street Llandudno, or telephone 545681 and ask for the Trinity Players’ secretary. And you never know - a star might yet be born...
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Why don't we...
...tell the truth more often? We don’t, preferring instead to find a host of reasons why we shouldn’t. In fact, some psychotherapists believe society would implode, to use a fashionable, if rather meaningless word, if we all did all the time. And that’s understandable, especially in the area of personal relationships. As any husband knows, telling your wife the whole, ungarnished truth is a short cut to divorce. When she puts on that new outfit, and then asks ‘Does my backside look big in this?’, whether the aforementioned organ is the size of Brussels or not it’s better to create a white lie to avoid summary verbal execution.
But that brings up another point. We have the conscience-easing capability to divide the lies we tell into at least two types: white and, er...the other sort. Thinking about it, there’s no such thing as a ‘black lie’, an odd omission which, presumably, was created to keep the race relations board members in jobs. But that does leave us with Lies and White Lies. Somehow, it’s completely acceptable to tell ‘White’ lies, despite the fact that both are simply untruths.
Is it a lack of courage that makes us lie all the time? We routinely lie to the GP, when said individual peers over their glasses to ask ‘And how many units of alcohol per week do you consume?’ and we creatively try to give the impression that, if we haven’t actually signed the pledge, we’re at the very least practising Mormons. We lie to the Tax man, forgetting to declare that cash a neighbour gave us for the job we did for them and desperately trying to remember how long it is before a line is drawn beneath owing tax amounts. We lie to our dentists, our teachers, our spiritual leaders, the Police, our parents, our spouses, our children; in fact, it’s sometimes easier to try to think if there’s ever anyone we actually tell the truth to. Worryingly, we even lie to ourselves.
The press, of course, lies all the time, and even makes a good living out of it; the Daily Mail for instance, has done extremely well out of misleading its readers since time immemorial, and it’s not alone. But they don’t lack help. Have you ever noticed how wonderful, kind, gentle and devoted someone was, once they’re no longer around to contradict the report? The admittedly sad death of a child is even more revealing. No school spokesperson would ever describe a deceased pupil in less than ecstatic and glowing terms, regardless of whether said pupil had actually died whilst leading a gang on a mission to murder as many pensioners as possible the week before. The eponymous hero of the outstanding series ‘House’ will pronounce - at least once an episode - ‘Everybody lies’, and if you think about it, it’s an impossible fact to contradict. Sociologists argue that a totally lie-free society wouldn’t work and psychiatrists often earn their crusts from treating those whose lives have often been damaged by too much truth.
But you have to wonder. If we do lie so consistently, and if lying is so important to the health of a society. which many believe it is, why, then, do we pillory those whom we elect when we find them doing exactly what we do?
But that brings up another point. We have the conscience-easing capability to divide the lies we tell into at least two types: white and, er...the other sort. Thinking about it, there’s no such thing as a ‘black lie’, an odd omission which, presumably, was created to keep the race relations board members in jobs. But that does leave us with Lies and White Lies. Somehow, it’s completely acceptable to tell ‘White’ lies, despite the fact that both are simply untruths.
Is it a lack of courage that makes us lie all the time? We routinely lie to the GP, when said individual peers over their glasses to ask ‘And how many units of alcohol per week do you consume?’ and we creatively try to give the impression that, if we haven’t actually signed the pledge, we’re at the very least practising Mormons. We lie to the Tax man, forgetting to declare that cash a neighbour gave us for the job we did for them and desperately trying to remember how long it is before a line is drawn beneath owing tax amounts. We lie to our dentists, our teachers, our spiritual leaders, the Police, our parents, our spouses, our children; in fact, it’s sometimes easier to try to think if there’s ever anyone we actually tell the truth to. Worryingly, we even lie to ourselves.
The press, of course, lies all the time, and even makes a good living out of it; the Daily Mail for instance, has done extremely well out of misleading its readers since time immemorial, and it’s not alone. But they don’t lack help. Have you ever noticed how wonderful, kind, gentle and devoted someone was, once they’re no longer around to contradict the report? The admittedly sad death of a child is even more revealing. No school spokesperson would ever describe a deceased pupil in less than ecstatic and glowing terms, regardless of whether said pupil had actually died whilst leading a gang on a mission to murder as many pensioners as possible the week before. The eponymous hero of the outstanding series ‘House’ will pronounce - at least once an episode - ‘Everybody lies’, and if you think about it, it’s an impossible fact to contradict. Sociologists argue that a totally lie-free society wouldn’t work and psychiatrists often earn their crusts from treating those whose lives have often been damaged by too much truth.
But you have to wonder. If we do lie so consistently, and if lying is so important to the health of a society. which many believe it is, why, then, do we pillory those whom we elect when we find them doing exactly what we do?
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Laws of the Universe
There are certainly some strange aspects to life. As always, our colonial cousins have produced the text book on this, called - appropriately - Laws of Life
Murphy's First Law for Wives:
If you ask your husband to pick up five items at the store and
then you add one more as an afterthought, he will forget two of
the first five.
Kauffman's Paradox of the company:
The less important you are to the company, the more your
tardiness or absence is noticed.
The Salary Axiom:
The pay raise is just large enough to increase your tax and
just small enough to have no effect on your take-home pay.
Miller's Law of Insurance:
Insurance covers everything except what happens.
First Law of Living:
As soon as you start doing what you always wanted to be doing,
you'll want to be doing something else.
Weiner's Law of Libraries:
There are no answers, only cross-references.
Isaac's Strange Rule of Staleness:
Any food that starts out hard will soften when stale. Any food
that starts out soft will harden when stale.
The Grocery Bag Law:
The chocolate bar you planned to eat on the way home from the market
is always hidden at the bottom of the grocery bag.
Lampner's Law of Employment:
When leaving work late, you will go unnoticed. When you leave
work early, you will meet the boss in the parking lot.
Murphy's First Law for Wives:
If you ask your husband to pick up five items at the store and
then you add one more as an afterthought, he will forget two of
the first five.
Kauffman's Paradox of the company:
The less important you are to the company, the more your
tardiness or absence is noticed.
The Salary Axiom:
The pay raise is just large enough to increase your tax and
just small enough to have no effect on your take-home pay.
Miller's Law of Insurance:
Insurance covers everything except what happens.
First Law of Living:
As soon as you start doing what you always wanted to be doing,
you'll want to be doing something else.
Weiner's Law of Libraries:
There are no answers, only cross-references.
Isaac's Strange Rule of Staleness:
Any food that starts out hard will soften when stale. Any food
that starts out soft will harden when stale.
The Grocery Bag Law:
The chocolate bar you planned to eat on the way home from the market
is always hidden at the bottom of the grocery bag.
Lampner's Law of Employment:
When leaving work late, you will go unnoticed. When you leave
work early, you will meet the boss in the parking lot.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
This sallied flesh
Today didn't start too badly. But that should have been the first warning. Days that start well have a nasty habit of going downhill, quickly.
A quick glance at the news signalled that the AG was being fined - nothing unusual in that, you might say as government law officers in general have a long and dishonourable tradition of becoming mired, brief-deep, in the mucky stuff. But this was slightly different It seems as though someone was trying to send a message. Lady Scotland (there’s a title that sets the mind wondering) was the only private individual to be clobbered by the iron fist of the UK border agency - the rest have been firms - so you’re tempted to think perhaps there was motive behind this. The motive, of course, can’t have been to topple the government. They’re doing that quite well on their own, thank you very much, and don’t need any help from the likes of Cameron, Clegg or that far more lethal, intellectual and potentially dangerous Vince Cable. In fact, it’s surprising GB hasn’t created a Minster in charge of collapse. No - to ensure the Labour party face ignominious defeat at the next election, all Cameron has to do is to avoid being caught in a compromising position with an under-age, disabled school boy. Although, given Gordon’s stellar performance at the moment, even that might not swing it.
But the news aside, we soldier on, as each successive bulletin brings more rumours of cuts, slashes and eliminations. Never really understood economics, at least on a global scale, and one wonders why the people that seemed to be responsible for the current situation are finding their world difficulties limited to replacing the parlour maid or swapping their current 160 foot motor launch for some thing a little more modest - say, 130 foot, but the latest model of course.
Couldn’t get the mind round writing, so decided to tidy the study. Whilst engaged on that gargantuan task, noticed the DNS in the router had become mangled, which accounted for the current sluggish performance of the email, so much so, in fact, that it was becoming faster to nip round and shout at people.
Finished shovelling the dust, debris and muck out the window then went upstairs to prepare lunch. While there, the sherry bottle mysteriously caught the eye (not literally, of course) and the process slowed to a crawl. Watched a mega movers programme, about some colonial cousins moving entire hotels on the backs of lorries, when the youngest - a very bright engineer - informed us that the second shower room was now underwater, ironically, since he’s a fluid dynamics specialist. He’d run the tap in the sink while taking a shower but had neglected to ensure the plug was out.
Anyone for tennis?
A quick glance at the news signalled that the AG was being fined - nothing unusual in that, you might say as government law officers in general have a long and dishonourable tradition of becoming mired, brief-deep, in the mucky stuff. But this was slightly different It seems as though someone was trying to send a message. Lady Scotland (there’s a title that sets the mind wondering) was the only private individual to be clobbered by the iron fist of the UK border agency - the rest have been firms - so you’re tempted to think perhaps there was motive behind this. The motive, of course, can’t have been to topple the government. They’re doing that quite well on their own, thank you very much, and don’t need any help from the likes of Cameron, Clegg or that far more lethal, intellectual and potentially dangerous Vince Cable. In fact, it’s surprising GB hasn’t created a Minster in charge of collapse. No - to ensure the Labour party face ignominious defeat at the next election, all Cameron has to do is to avoid being caught in a compromising position with an under-age, disabled school boy. Although, given Gordon’s stellar performance at the moment, even that might not swing it.
But the news aside, we soldier on, as each successive bulletin brings more rumours of cuts, slashes and eliminations. Never really understood economics, at least on a global scale, and one wonders why the people that seemed to be responsible for the current situation are finding their world difficulties limited to replacing the parlour maid or swapping their current 160 foot motor launch for some thing a little more modest - say, 130 foot, but the latest model of course.
Couldn’t get the mind round writing, so decided to tidy the study. Whilst engaged on that gargantuan task, noticed the DNS in the router had become mangled, which accounted for the current sluggish performance of the email, so much so, in fact, that it was becoming faster to nip round and shout at people.
Finished shovelling the dust, debris and muck out the window then went upstairs to prepare lunch. While there, the sherry bottle mysteriously caught the eye (not literally, of course) and the process slowed to a crawl. Watched a mega movers programme, about some colonial cousins moving entire hotels on the backs of lorries, when the youngest - a very bright engineer - informed us that the second shower room was now underwater, ironically, since he’s a fluid dynamics specialist. He’d run the tap in the sink while taking a shower but had neglected to ensure the plug was out.
Anyone for tennis?
Monday, 21 September 2009
Wintry wind
Blowing a fair bit, today, and the temperatures are sliding steadily downwards. Autumn is a wonderful time with the trees shedding their leaves, the mornings sometimes misty and damp, and evening skies clear and cold. All too easy to forget what a great place we live in. Which is why it’s sometimes easy to become a little despondent when reading the news. From abuse statistics, to attempted murders, fatal fires, car crashes, overworked GPs and people suggesting the RAF abandon low flying over Snowdonia, it’s rather too easy to get the impression that we’re a community of moaners and whingers, intent only on reading the worst events human nature can conspire to create.
The news media, of course, will respond by pointing out that people don’t buy newspapers for good news; but bad news sells like hot cakes. So what is it about us that we seem to rejoice in the suffering of our fellows, delight in illuminated accounts of disasters and embrace excess?
Rarely do we read about heroism, selflessness and charitable actions, but these are far more prevalent than assaults, fires and road tragedies. Every night, somewhere in Llandudno and Colwyn Bay, there are meetings of people dedicated to improving the lot of their peers, helping youngsters, assisting the elderly or simply raising money for local charities. The Lions, Rotary, Trinity Players, the Youth Music Theatre, Colwyn Bay Local Forum’s Local Action Group, the Harmony Singers, The Scouts, the Guides, the D of E award planners, Round Table, the Churches - the list goes on and on, and these are the unsung, the overlooked and the self-effacing on a grand scale.
Life is a little too short to be worrying about E Coli, Swine ‘Flu and low flying aircraft. Let’s celebrate the positive and worthwhile in this great community of ours and relegate the whinging to the wings.
The news media, of course, will respond by pointing out that people don’t buy newspapers for good news; but bad news sells like hot cakes. So what is it about us that we seem to rejoice in the suffering of our fellows, delight in illuminated accounts of disasters and embrace excess?
Rarely do we read about heroism, selflessness and charitable actions, but these are far more prevalent than assaults, fires and road tragedies. Every night, somewhere in Llandudno and Colwyn Bay, there are meetings of people dedicated to improving the lot of their peers, helping youngsters, assisting the elderly or simply raising money for local charities. The Lions, Rotary, Trinity Players, the Youth Music Theatre, Colwyn Bay Local Forum’s Local Action Group, the Harmony Singers, The Scouts, the Guides, the D of E award planners, Round Table, the Churches - the list goes on and on, and these are the unsung, the overlooked and the self-effacing on a grand scale.
Life is a little too short to be worrying about E Coli, Swine ‘Flu and low flying aircraft. Let’s celebrate the positive and worthwhile in this great community of ours and relegate the whinging to the wings.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Families
Families are strange creatures. We all know that you can’t choose your relatives, and large families can be somewhat overwhelming but the family seems to be undergoing something of a change.
Patterns of behaviour by people in the UK aged between 16 and 40 have shown distinct changes in the past thirty years. In the late seventies, getting married was still considered to be advantageous, the proportion of single parent units to two-parent families was comparatively small, and most people chose to have 1.4 children - on average, that is before anyone starts wondering whether there were some out-of-control experiments taking place at fertility clinics. They also had those children in their late twenties and most folk stayed together for a significant number of years. The statistics are interesting:
So the divorce rate is falling but more people are having them. Now, is it possible that the divorce rate is falling because of a couple of behavioural changes? The first - and arguably the most worrying - is that very young teenage girls are now happy to have a child without worrying about having a partner. Presumably, these same girls will expect to be housed, financed, cosseted and fed, largely, if not entirely, at the tax payers’ expense. The problems start, however, when we see the standards of behaviour these single mothers transmit to their children. A culture of expectation that the state will provide is inevitable, and dangerous for society.
But what about the professional women, the high achievers, the extremely well-qualified? It seems they’re doing almost the opposite; that group are actively deferring childbirth until their early forties, if at all, preferring instead to concentrate on their careers. They also often eschew marriage as an out-moded convention based on a largely discredited religious philosophy.
What this means is that we have a growing population of people who expect to receive from the state, without necessarily having to give anything back, and a shrinking population of people who work hard, succeed and achieve.
Add to this the fact that we’re going to see some mighty severe cuts in just about every aspect of government and social provision, and it looks as though those single-parent families are going to need their own families to help out. Then, perhaps, the old family concept might enjoy a renaissance.
Patterns of behaviour by people in the UK aged between 16 and 40 have shown distinct changes in the past thirty years. In the late seventies, getting married was still considered to be advantageous, the proportion of single parent units to two-parent families was comparatively small, and most people chose to have 1.4 children - on average, that is before anyone starts wondering whether there were some out-of-control experiments taking place at fertility clinics. They also had those children in their late twenties and most folk stayed together for a significant number of years. The statistics are interesting:
- the divorce rate in 2007 was at its lowest level since 1981...but
- One in five men and women divorcing in 2007 had a previous marriage ending in divorce. This proportion has doubled in 27 years: in 1980 one in ten men and women divorcing had a previous marriage ending in divorce. Sixty-nine per cent of divorces were to couples where the marriage was the first for both parties.
So the divorce rate is falling but more people are having them. Now, is it possible that the divorce rate is falling because of a couple of behavioural changes? The first - and arguably the most worrying - is that very young teenage girls are now happy to have a child without worrying about having a partner. Presumably, these same girls will expect to be housed, financed, cosseted and fed, largely, if not entirely, at the tax payers’ expense. The problems start, however, when we see the standards of behaviour these single mothers transmit to their children. A culture of expectation that the state will provide is inevitable, and dangerous for society.
But what about the professional women, the high achievers, the extremely well-qualified? It seems they’re doing almost the opposite; that group are actively deferring childbirth until their early forties, if at all, preferring instead to concentrate on their careers. They also often eschew marriage as an out-moded convention based on a largely discredited religious philosophy.
What this means is that we have a growing population of people who expect to receive from the state, without necessarily having to give anything back, and a shrinking population of people who work hard, succeed and achieve.
Add to this the fact that we’re going to see some mighty severe cuts in just about every aspect of government and social provision, and it looks as though those single-parent families are going to need their own families to help out. Then, perhaps, the old family concept might enjoy a renaissance.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
A load of Bull
Each morning we take a walk. Well, not so much a walk as a minor expedition across several hills, farms stiles, pathways and streams. It’s supposed to be good for us. Or so we’re told.A good friend of ours is a farmer, and owns quite a few mountainous acres, across which we haul our weary carcasses prior to succumbing to terminal exhaustion back at the homestead, hooking ourselves up to life-support drips of coffee and thinking what lunatics we are to heave ourselves out in all weathers on the bizarre notion that somehow traversing fields heaving with E-Coli, sheep, cattle, pigs and bullocks will just possibly extend our lifespans. Oh, and one enormous Bull. A Welsh Black, to be precise.
He’s truly magnificent. Weighing in at between half and three-quarters of a ton, this morning we found him right at the gate, guarding his family of three cows and a sprinkling of calves. And their horns grow back quickly. He’s retained his and he looks truly fearsome. In fact, with him and the family at the gate, our friend has finally managed to stem the badger baiters that have caused him rather a lot of distress in the past.
Of course, what no one except us and our friend know is that this bull is actually a timid and delightful creature. Hand reared, so he both trusts and has no fear of humans, he’s a curious combination of potential killing machine and fluffy pet, and we have no qualms about walking right up to such a regal yet gentle beast and talking to him, softly. No one who doesn’t know him, however, would be that foolhardy, and rightly so. Animals are unpredictable, just like humans can be, and cattle, sheep goats and pigs can all carry E Coli.
Which is why you want to weep when you see parents talking about suing a petting farm for allowing E Coli to exist in their animals. Ignorance may be bliss, but not when parents these days seem to specialise in acquiring large quantities of it. What on earth did they think these animals would be like? Animatronic and fluffy but antiseptic cuties that purred on command, yet contained no vestige of nasty, horrible things like germs?
It makes you want to scream “This is the world! Learn how to cope!” instead of which the media gives these precious and uneducated fools air time and sympathy. Life is about learning, and if the parents haven’t learnt that lesson, perhaps they shouldn’t be parents.
Friday, 18 September 2009
May the force
Beating any of the funny stories posted in here from time to time, was the comment from a Tesco management spokesman when he said “He hasn’t been banned. Jedis are very welcome to shop in our stores although we would ask them to remove their hoods; Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda and Luke Skywalker all appeared hoodless without ever going over to the Dark Side and we are only aware of the Emperor as one who never removed his hood. If Jedi walk around our stores with their hoods on, they’ll miss lots of special offers,” he stated, in response to accusations from Daniel Jones, 23, from Holyhead, who founded the International Church of Jediism, and who claimed he’d been “victimised over his beliefs” by staff at Tesco’s store in Bangor.
He contended that his religion dictated that he should wear the hood in public places after staff approached him to ask that he remove the hood.
Daniel said: “It states in our Jedi doctrination that I can wear headwear. It just covers the back of my head."
This may all sound very amusing to those of us who prefer Star Trek to Star Wars but his protest makes an interesting point.
Quite a few years ago, when the government insisted on passing a law that made Motor cycle helmets compulsory - presumably to save the NHS money, the Sikh faction in the UK refused and several arrests were made, until the Government of the time backed down and allowed those who had a religious belief in hoods to get killed more easily.
Now, although it’s easy to ridicule our young Jedi, there are some important questions we should ask: firstly, do Tesco take the same line with all headwear of the same sort, including in their Birmingham stores? Secondly, is the founding of a Jedi religion any more ridiculous than the founding of or belief in any other religion? Tom Cruise for instance, apparently accepts the tenets of Scientology, a religion started by a rather dodgy Sci-Fi writer.
Thirdly - and perhaps most importantly - is it appropriate that anyone has a legal waiver simply because of their beliefs? Our Jedi said “It was discrimination. They were making a joke against me. I was really upset. Nobody should be treated like that.” and perhaps he has a point. But if people allow religious beliefs and conviction to dictate social policy, then where, one wonders, do we stop?
Perhaps we should heed the words of Jean De la Fontaine (1621 - 1695): Nothing is so dangerous as an ignorant friend; a wise enemy is worth more.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Dear, oh dear
On Monday, Staff and pupils arrived at Ysgol Maesincla in Caernarfon to find the playground outside the school’s nursery wing smashed to bits. It is believed that the culprits jumped over the four foot high metal fence, which seals off the school, to gain access to the grounds at some point during the weekend.
The vandals then proceeded to destroy the yard, kicking wooden picnic benches with such force that they smashed into small pieces. The yobs also broke the window boxes at the children’s playhouse and ripped felt off its roof, leaving a gaping hole.
Sad as this incident was, examining the reactions of those immediately affected is revealing. Headteacher Mrs Elisabeth Roberts said: “This attack was totally uncalled for and was of no benefit to the perpetrators." while Caernarfon councillor and member of the Maesincla board of governors Huw Edwards blasted the yobs for their shameful attack and said “I can’t understand the mentality of these people. Those responsible should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves and they should look at in the mirror and ask themselves why did they do it."
These comments, and similar ones made whenever such damage occurs, reveal a fundamental problem in perception. It's tempting to blame drink and drugs every time something like this happens, but the fact is that vandalism is not a new phenomenon. The earliest known use of the term dates from 1794 during the French Revolution, and was coined by by Henri Grégoire, constitutional bishop of Blois, in his report directed to the Republican Convention, where he used word Vandalisme to describe some aspects of the behaviour of the republican army.
The act itself, however, probably pre-dates recorded history, and was almost certainly carried out by Ug and Urk on the piles of bones outside next cave’s entrance one dark and boring night, after the mammoth bash at the neighbour’s coming of Woad party.
But the people making the comments need to realise that the destruction of created works and the imposition of chaos on order is the natural state of things; you only have to watch a dead animal’s body over a matter days to realise that. Respect for structure and order, for beauty and design is something we have to teach our young and the sad fact is that there are many young parents these days who don’t understand the concepts themselves.
The answer? We must break the cycle of ignorance breeding ignorance, but the only way to do that is by action that no current political party or representative will countenance. Until we take the action necessary to break the circle, we had better resign ourselves to things only becoming worse.
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Water under the bridge
To the keen Caneades Blog followers the following won't come as a total surprise. The praises of the Scout Association are sung loudly and frequently on here, for no other reason than their years of equipping youngsters to cope with adventurous activities and the vagaries of life in general are well documented but frequently overlooked, as the media concentrate their column inches on the drunks, the hooligans and the tearaways, all of which can tend to tar teenagers in general with the same, rather mucky, brush.
It was, therefore, with nothing short of delight that we saw the Daily Post’s, albeit belated, article this morning about Explorer Scouts, from which we quote:
At Whitney-on-Wye the Scouts saw a group in locally hired boats in obvious distress. The five Explorer Scouts, Gavin Scott, George Jones, James Cragg, and Sam Dodd, all pupils at Llangollen Dinas Bran, and Suzie Gregory, a pupil at Brynhyfryd Ruthin, were paddling from Glasbury in Powys to Hoarwithy in Herefordshire as part of a three-day expedition.
The five Llangollen Explorer Scouts were taking part in an expedition for their Duke of Edinburgh Silver award on the River Wye. The Explorer Scout leader said: "One of the group's canoes was stuck against the pillar of a bridge due to a strong current. The boat had tipped over throwing one paddler into the river and leaving the other, a young pregnant woman, standing terrified in the sinking canoe."
Three of the quick thinking Explorers went to the aid of the party, one going after the person in the water and the others rescuing the woman from the boat. River levels were about two feet higher than normal and flowing fast following recent rain. Despite the fact there were adults on the river, the brave 16-year-olds took charge and organised the rescue. All five of the Scouts are experienced paddlers and have practised river rescues.
The group completed the expedition, covering 51 miles in the 3 days, and are on course to gain their Duke of Edinburgh Silver Awards and the Chief Scout's Diamond Award.
Let’s not forget that we’re still breeding youngsters with all the fine qualities we ever were.
It was, therefore, with nothing short of delight that we saw the Daily Post’s, albeit belated, article this morning about Explorer Scouts, from which we quote:
At Whitney-on-Wye the Scouts saw a group in locally hired boats in obvious distress. The five Explorer Scouts, Gavin Scott, George Jones, James Cragg, and Sam Dodd, all pupils at Llangollen Dinas Bran, and Suzie Gregory, a pupil at Brynhyfryd Ruthin, were paddling from Glasbury in Powys to Hoarwithy in Herefordshire as part of a three-day expedition.
The five Llangollen Explorer Scouts were taking part in an expedition for their Duke of Edinburgh Silver award on the River Wye. The Explorer Scout leader said: "One of the group's canoes was stuck against the pillar of a bridge due to a strong current. The boat had tipped over throwing one paddler into the river and leaving the other, a young pregnant woman, standing terrified in the sinking canoe."
Three of the quick thinking Explorers went to the aid of the party, one going after the person in the water and the others rescuing the woman from the boat. River levels were about two feet higher than normal and flowing fast following recent rain. Despite the fact there were adults on the river, the brave 16-year-olds took charge and organised the rescue. All five of the Scouts are experienced paddlers and have practised river rescues.
The group completed the expedition, covering 51 miles in the 3 days, and are on course to gain their Duke of Edinburgh Silver Awards and the Chief Scout's Diamond Award.
Let’s not forget that we’re still breeding youngsters with all the fine qualities we ever were.
Monday, 14 September 2009
Hold tight...
Occasionally, airline attendants make an effort to make the "in-flight safety lecture" and their other announcements a bit more entertaining.
1. Pilot-"Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off. Feel free to move about as you wish, but please stay inside the plane till we land...it's a bit cold outside, and if you walk on the wings it affects the flight pattern."
2. After landing: "Thank you for flying Delta Business Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.
3. From a Southwest Airlines employee.... "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight 416 to Baltimore. To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seatbelt and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more.
4. Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but they'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you or your money, more than Southwest Airlines."
5. "Your seat cushions can be used for flotation and in the event of an emergency water landing, please take them with our compliments."
6. "Last one off the plane must clean it."
7. From the pilot during his welcome message: "We are pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the industry... Unfortunately none of them are on this flight...!
8. Part of a Flight Attendant's arrival announcement: "We'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of us here at US Airways."
1. Pilot-"Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off. Feel free to move about as you wish, but please stay inside the plane till we land...it's a bit cold outside, and if you walk on the wings it affects the flight pattern."
2. After landing: "Thank you for flying Delta Business Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.
3. From a Southwest Airlines employee.... "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight 416 to Baltimore. To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seatbelt and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more.
4. Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but they'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you or your money, more than Southwest Airlines."
5. "Your seat cushions can be used for flotation and in the event of an emergency water landing, please take them with our compliments."
6. "Last one off the plane must clean it."
7. From the pilot during his welcome message: "We are pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the industry... Unfortunately none of them are on this flight...!
8. Part of a Flight Attendant's arrival announcement: "We'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of us here at US Airways."
Sunday, 13 September 2009
September's mist and mud...
We live in a wonderful part of the world. Magnificent scenery, great weather, delightful people, lovely towns and villages and clean air. Waxing lyrical is not the usual timbre of this blog, but the current September weather hiatus has evoked an almost nostalgic feel to the air. That, coupled with the photos of the Eirias boating lake on the Llandudno Local forum, combine to make you think.
It can’t be denied that many folk move to this part of the world precisely because of the above; they leave hectic, competitive lives in the big cities and arrive here, in search of a more laid-back, gentle existence, free from pressure, fear of crime and time constraints. But to create the very environment most of us like, many things have to mesh perfectly. And that includes people.
Have you ever wondered just how many people it takes to create and maintain the ambience Conwy county enjoys? From the environmental services crew, who caringly tend the flower arrangements in the towns’ streets, carefully planting, nurturing, watering and removing, so they don’t get sunburnt, to the cutting of the grass on the busiest roundabout in the area - Black Cat - where they gently and lovingly close off a lane leading from Glan Conwy at 0830, so the cars and drivers can have time - often almost an hour - to fully appreciate the true beauty of grass cutting in the morning.
Visitors are not neglected, either. The warmth and generosity of spirit with which the guardians of our streets reluctantly but sadly apply that plastic-bagged invocation to contribute to the county’s meagre funds, stretched perilously thin through tightly controlled expenditure on such vital necessities as re-tarmacing every good road in sight, whilst ensuring that the vital single track roads to villages continue to rejoice in that quaint tradition of the pothole and the overhanging hedge is nothing short of an homage to real olde world values.
Residents enjoy the most thorough and painstaking deliberation of their planning applications, clearly designed to safeguard our heritage, and the Conwy officers excel at their little japes, pretending to have mislaid vital information, or forgetting to notify public bodies about proposed changes to listed buildings, thus infusing every contact with our councils with unalloyed joy and delight.
What a place, eh?
Friday, 11 September 2009
Eek!
Funny, really, the ways things you say can return to haunt you. A few days ago there was a mild air of celebration, as the main season drew to a close and it was observed on here that we’d once again have the roads to ourselves. Actually, ourselves might not be the best custodians.
Driving one afternoon this week, we had cause to take a single track road into the hills. Not an unusual occurrence, you might think, being as we live in a country that holds the patent on hills. This time, however, we followed a maroon and rather old Volvo. It’s useful to have a car in front, sometimes, especially on very narrow roads, as they can cut a metaphorical swathe for you, but this chap was clearly an ex-fighter pilot because he wasn’t just driving quickly, he was indulging in a spot of low flying. Now, before everyone talks about relative speeds and the like, you need to know this bit of road. It’s narrow - about seven feet in places, fringed by overhanging trees and very high and un-trimmed hedgerows, making it impossible to see over them unless your car is on stilts. Like most narrow roads in this area, it winds - sometimes tortuously - and has several unmarked entrances from farms and the odd house. Okay. That’s enough scene setting. Now, the interesting bit was the Volvo’s speed. Our Toyota Landcruiser is no slouch, but to match his speed we attained 44 mph.
That may not sound a lot. and it certainly isn’t, on a nice, wide dual carriageway, but on a single track, restricted visibility lane on which blind hairpin bends abound, it was lunacy, not to mention a potential joining speed with an oncoming vehicle of 88 mph. Richard Brunstrum may have received a lot of stick for his relentless campaign against speeding drivers, but it was difficult to avoid the chilling suspicion that many are champing at the bit to let fast and loose now he’s gone.
Curiously, that wasn’t the first example. As we left Glan Conwy to drive to Llanrwst we joined - as one so often does - a convoy, led by a small car whose top speed was clearly limited to 55 mph. Now, we drive that road a lot, and the joy when there’s no one on it and you can whoosh along at a steady 60+ is matched only by the excitement you feel when there’s a free parking space outside Marks. However, in fairness, 55 is reasonable and - given that there are actually houses on the stretch between the notorious dog-leg at the start of Maenan and the end of the narrow stretch which sees all the passengers on the many coaches that plough that road breathing in sharply when they see a double decker coming the other way, 55 - 60 is really fast enough; in fact, how some of the residents on that particular stretch of motorcycle race track ever manage to escape their domiciles is a question on the lines of “Is there a God?”.
At the outset, however, it was clear there was at least one person unwilling to idle along at 55. His white van hove in rear-mirror view as soon as Tal Y Cafn retreated and his subsequent overtaking manoeuvres lent some credibility to the theory that Britain does have a secret space programme and tests its rockets on the lesser-used roads in Wales. Unfortunately, the driver’s skills fell somewhat short of his vehicle’s ability to accelerate and - on two occasions that we witnessed - he very nearly delayed our journey home by achieving a head-on collision with oncoming vehicles. Sporting a local number plate, and unlikely to be a visitor taking granny out for the day, it seems that the local had struck again.
However, bad driving isn’t restricted to white van drivers and maroon Volvo test-pilots; in fact, the number of cars who were either built without indicators or whose owners appear to think that other drivers should be telepathic is astounding. But the best has to be the school-run mothers. This brigade of swerving, rushing, armour-clad females driving enormous off-roaders at about 0855 round Llandudno as though qualifying for the next Grand Prix is enough to make the likes of Clarkson dive for cover. Oh well, when does the season start again?
IAM
Once more unto the beach
We've often pointed out that Colwyn’s beaches are far, far superior to Llandudno’s, and at the same time tacitly accepted that this isn’t a competition, if for no other reasons than Llandudno has its own range of inimitable sights and there are plenty of visitors to go round. However, as our good friend Chameleon points out on his blog, “Colwyn Bay needs to evolve as a seaside resort” to which we would add “rather than dis-solve into the bureaucratic soup of the non-imaginative morass that seems to be gripping those in charge of decision making in Conwy Council like quicksands for the mind”.
For how long does it have to be said: Colwyn Bay has massive potential, which lacks imagination, investment and courage and what it does have is being squandered by those supposedly representing the electorate. On the other hand, remember that an integral part of the word ‘politician’ is ‘tic’, defined as a repetitive, non-rhythmic, stereotyped motor movement or, in the US, as a blood-sucking parasite.
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Trails and tribulations
Waking up is always a bonus. It helps start the day with an I’m-still-here spirit that should persist at least until the mail arrives. After that, of course, it’s every man for himself. But, as the season gently winds down, life and the populace seem to become less harried, less demanding, somehow. Shop assistants return to smiling benignly, possibly because they’re not watching little Harry practice his SAS HALO jump from the boot-practice ramp in the outdoor shoes area, or perhaps because the temperatures upstairs in a shop built more than a hundred years ago, when ice ages were still in fashion, are now subsiding to a point where flies and rattlesnakes can survive them.
Hoteliers greet Autumn with mixed feelings; families of five, crammed into a single family room to save money, no longer drain the will to live from the proprietor, but rooms now remain empty - never a good situation. Weather-dependent attractions - the cable cars and boat trips - often enjoy something of a renaissance in the calmer weather September is well known for. Silly questions, such as ‘Why isn’t the cable car running?’ shouted above the noise from a force 9 gale which would have any cable car flying in a horizontal position show a marked decrease and families with barely controlled young children, apparently hell-bent on wreaking death and destruction on all around now remain home and plan their starring roles in Halloween at the next half term.
But, perhaps best of all, the roads return to a semblance of normality. One of the many advantages of living in a tourist destination - especially one as world-famous as Snowdonia - is the magnificence of the scenery, a feature which has retained its stark beauty since time began, which is certainly when the roads were laid down. Roads in North Wales were - for the most part - either laid down on cart trails or built originally by the Romans. The A5, for instance, has many arrow-straight sections (Romans didn’t like going round corners much) but most non-Roman roads still follow the route taken by the hay carts. In short, they’re convoluted and narrow. Every year at least one coach will get jammed on the A470, attempting to negotiate the tortuous bends of a road never designed for anything longer than a cart and two horses and it can be almost guaranteed that anyone trying to reach Betwys during August should take sandwiches and an overnight bag.
But September brings relief. Gone are the tourists who enjoy meandering down the main road from Black Cat to Betwys at a sedate 30 mph, drinking in the scenery and oblivious to the fact that the area actually has people who work there and need to get some place in under a day; gone are the cars apparently built without reverse gears who seek to navigate the single track roads up to Crafnant. Gone, too, are the legions of hikers who - armed with map and trusty compass - can be seen ploughing their way resolutely through never used footpaths, proclaiming their right to roam to half a dozen bemused sheep and a puzzled cow.
But we love the visitors really; after all, if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have the place looking as good as it does and there’s also that indefinable feeling of warmth when someone says to you “You’re really lucky living here!”. We may not always feel that way, but we always remember that there are far, far worse places in which to live. Roll on Christmas!
For chuckles!
Hoteliers greet Autumn with mixed feelings; families of five, crammed into a single family room to save money, no longer drain the will to live from the proprietor, but rooms now remain empty - never a good situation. Weather-dependent attractions - the cable cars and boat trips - often enjoy something of a renaissance in the calmer weather September is well known for. Silly questions, such as ‘Why isn’t the cable car running?’ shouted above the noise from a force 9 gale which would have any cable car flying in a horizontal position show a marked decrease and families with barely controlled young children, apparently hell-bent on wreaking death and destruction on all around now remain home and plan their starring roles in Halloween at the next half term.
But, perhaps best of all, the roads return to a semblance of normality. One of the many advantages of living in a tourist destination - especially one as world-famous as Snowdonia - is the magnificence of the scenery, a feature which has retained its stark beauty since time began, which is certainly when the roads were laid down. Roads in North Wales were - for the most part - either laid down on cart trails or built originally by the Romans. The A5, for instance, has many arrow-straight sections (Romans didn’t like going round corners much) but most non-Roman roads still follow the route taken by the hay carts. In short, they’re convoluted and narrow. Every year at least one coach will get jammed on the A470, attempting to negotiate the tortuous bends of a road never designed for anything longer than a cart and two horses and it can be almost guaranteed that anyone trying to reach Betwys during August should take sandwiches and an overnight bag.
But September brings relief. Gone are the tourists who enjoy meandering down the main road from Black Cat to Betwys at a sedate 30 mph, drinking in the scenery and oblivious to the fact that the area actually has people who work there and need to get some place in under a day; gone are the cars apparently built without reverse gears who seek to navigate the single track roads up to Crafnant. Gone, too, are the legions of hikers who - armed with map and trusty compass - can be seen ploughing their way resolutely through never used footpaths, proclaiming their right to roam to half a dozen bemused sheep and a puzzled cow.
But we love the visitors really; after all, if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have the place looking as good as it does and there’s also that indefinable feeling of warmth when someone says to you “You’re really lucky living here!”. We may not always feel that way, but we always remember that there are far, far worse places in which to live. Roll on Christmas!
For chuckles!
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Arghhh!
Today we received an email missive from a friend. It was a well-meaning gesture - you know the sort; a forwarded email with tag-lines such as ‘You must read this - warning!’, or ‘Hilarious!’ or similar, usually containing an ancient joke that any individual well versed in the internet would have seen anyway, or some supposed ‘scam’ that we were being warned about. And you may wonder why it’s being mentioned in here.
It’s simple. really; firstly, almost every one of the so-called ‘scams’ that get forwarded is nothing of the sort. They’re virtually all hoaxes, plain and simple, usually started by small-minded individuals who seem to have nothing more enriching in their lives than a computer and a stack of hamburgers. Fortunately, for every malicious individual who delights in clogging the internet, there are some who delight in thwarting them. Snopes is one such institution, a site that exposes each and every ‘scam’ for what it is. Scare stories abound, from children disappearing on Walt Disney rides to people who manipulate your telephone to run up bills of thousands of pounds, each and every one pure invention. Incredibly, some highly intelligent individuals, many of whom are people who’ve made a lot of money in their shrewd business dealings, accept this waffle unquestioningly and don’t bother checking the facts. In fact, people sometimes seem so naive it’s surprising they make it to the shops and back.
But that’s actually not the worst aspect of a forwarded email. The very, very worst facet of the thing is that your email address is printed - clear and obvious - along with about a hundred others at the top of the email.
It’s tempting to wonder why people who - presumably - sometimes lock their door when they leave the house and, one assumes, don’t have a large sign outside their house giving details of their names, birthdays, mother’s maiden name and bank account passwords seem more than happy to broadcast your email addresses, along with those of many others when there’s simple way to avoid it. Email clients have three lines in their address fields: To: (that’s the person you’re sending the email to - obviously:-) CC: that’s the Carbon Copy line which send copies of everything to everyone on the same line, and BCC. It’s the BCC line that people don’t seem to know how to use, and it’s actually the most important line on an email client.
If you CC an email, every single recipient will see everything sent to everyone else on that line. Think of CC as a loud hailer when you use it: if you’re happy for everyone to know everything, including addresses, then use CC. If, however, you’d prefer not to shout all the information to everyone, then - if you must forward these emails - use BCC, as that way the recipients will see only the message and not everyone else’s email address.
Why not show everyone’s email address, you might be tempted to ask. Because it only takes one person on that address list who hasn’t updated their virus checker for you to start receiving a welter of emails, offering everything from fake perfume to promises of quite astonishing but highly improbable bodily enhancements. In short, it allows spammers to get your email address, which is doubly irritating when you take a lot of care to avoid precisely that issue yourself.
Curiously, it’s likely that most of your friends are extremely cautious about passing on personal information about you. No decent friend will give out your address to a stranger, for instance, and certainly not your date of birth, the two items most needed by identity theft specialists. Yet if you mention to a friend that you’d rather they didn’t forward you emails of scams (which probably aren’t) or enormously amusing and side-splitting jokes (which you’ve probably seen, anyway) they take offence, as though you’ve just rejected the bottle of wine they’ve given you at a dinner party. Perhaps you should simply post them the url of this blog article...
Monday, 7 September 2009
At last!
It seems that the weather is finally starting to improve. Starting, Wednesday - or so we’re told - a large high pressure system will establish itself over the UK, bringing us all stable weather, cold nights and sunny days. Well, it’s a bit late for the barbie, but it will give us a break from what seems like an attempt to enter the Guinness book of records under the ‘Biblical deluges’ section.
It’s really unsurprising that the main topic of conversation among the brits is weather; we have so much of it. It’s said that a day in Snowdonia can see all four seasons at once, and that’s not far from the truth. And, while blistering heat might not be to everyone’s liking, there’s no doubt that we probably all want some relief from the incessant precipitation that’s plagued us for the past couple of months. Now, where have we left the buckets and spades...
Today, the remaining schools return to work and to the longest term. Traditionally, Autumn term is the most fun; church schools celebrate Harvest, state schools occasionally mention Halloween, everyone debates November 5th and - of course - it’s now only 109 days to Christmas. The three big secondary schools in the area - Eirias, Bryn Elian and John Bright - are steadily working towards all sorts of dates. The new intakes are gently introduced to the new ways of doing things, the year 9 pupils are relentlessly pursued by the staff who want them (or not) to take their subjects in year 10, the year 11 students are ‘mentored’ and encouraged to achieve excellent grades in their GCSEs and the year 13 students face another year of life-changing tests, made markedly easier by the use of modular examinations.
But at what point did it all become so cosy? The year 6 children in Junior schools are ‘invited’ to spend a day at their new Secondary school, presumably so it won’t all come as a great shock to the system when they finally have to start doing homework. The year 9 children are all gently advised and guided to their option choices, the year 11 pupils individually mentored and - of course - the coursework elements of their final grades are all checked, changed, re-done and re-submitted endlessly until they’re incapable of failing.
There’s not really a lot of challenge left, is there? There are times, in fact, when it surprises us that Health and Safety haven’t closed Snowdon because there isn’t a safety net all round it. Gullible parents who didn’t bother to investigate the disingenuity behind the headlines stopped their kids from having the MMR and every week there’s yet another case of some parent, somewhere saying ‘It shouldn’t be allowed’ or ‘They should put a stop to it’ where ‘it’ may be any one of a plethora of issues, most of which the parent ought to have trained their child to deal with. Thank goodness we have organisations like the Scouts in this country, because - left to some parents - children would never escape the cocoon of over-protective parental insulation in which they’re mired. The parents' often risible reasoning for such a domestic policy frequently borders on the ludicrous, but usually distils to ‘You don’t know what might happen..’
No. Of course you don’t. That’s what the word ‘Adventure’ means. Kids need to be able to manage risk and manage life - because they’re part of the same equation. Then possibly - just possibly - we’ll have fewer depressing stories like this one.
It’s really unsurprising that the main topic of conversation among the brits is weather; we have so much of it. It’s said that a day in Snowdonia can see all four seasons at once, and that’s not far from the truth. And, while blistering heat might not be to everyone’s liking, there’s no doubt that we probably all want some relief from the incessant precipitation that’s plagued us for the past couple of months. Now, where have we left the buckets and spades...
Today, the remaining schools return to work and to the longest term. Traditionally, Autumn term is the most fun; church schools celebrate Harvest, state schools occasionally mention Halloween, everyone debates November 5th and - of course - it’s now only 109 days to Christmas. The three big secondary schools in the area - Eirias, Bryn Elian and John Bright - are steadily working towards all sorts of dates. The new intakes are gently introduced to the new ways of doing things, the year 9 pupils are relentlessly pursued by the staff who want them (or not) to take their subjects in year 10, the year 11 students are ‘mentored’ and encouraged to achieve excellent grades in their GCSEs and the year 13 students face another year of life-changing tests, made markedly easier by the use of modular examinations.
But at what point did it all become so cosy? The year 6 children in Junior schools are ‘invited’ to spend a day at their new Secondary school, presumably so it won’t all come as a great shock to the system when they finally have to start doing homework. The year 9 children are all gently advised and guided to their option choices, the year 11 pupils individually mentored and - of course - the coursework elements of their final grades are all checked, changed, re-done and re-submitted endlessly until they’re incapable of failing.
There’s not really a lot of challenge left, is there? There are times, in fact, when it surprises us that Health and Safety haven’t closed Snowdon because there isn’t a safety net all round it. Gullible parents who didn’t bother to investigate the disingenuity behind the headlines stopped their kids from having the MMR and every week there’s yet another case of some parent, somewhere saying ‘It shouldn’t be allowed’ or ‘They should put a stop to it’ where ‘it’ may be any one of a plethora of issues, most of which the parent ought to have trained their child to deal with. Thank goodness we have organisations like the Scouts in this country, because - left to some parents - children would never escape the cocoon of over-protective parental insulation in which they’re mired. The parents' often risible reasoning for such a domestic policy frequently borders on the ludicrous, but usually distils to ‘You don’t know what might happen..’
No. Of course you don’t. That’s what the word ‘Adventure’ means. Kids need to be able to manage risk and manage life - because they’re part of the same equation. Then possibly - just possibly - we’ll have fewer depressing stories like this one.
Sunday, 6 September 2009
Snips and snails...
Walking around the hills at the moment, one might be forgiven for thinking we’re in Texas, such is the number of cattle in evidence, coupled with a corresponding reduction in sheep. Of course, this might well have something to do with the introduction of Sheep tagging - the electronic sort, not a variant of the popular kids’ game. From this year, all sheep have to be ‘double tagged’ to ensure each animal has a unique identity, ‘Fluffles’, presumably, being considered inadequate in this modern day and age. Cattle, of course, already have their little electronic tags, so you know exactly which one just stepped on your foot. But that’s to fight things like foot and mouth. Thus far, the only rationale being offered about double tagging for sheep is that we have a duty to conform to EU law. Which doesn’t really seem adequate. The French, of course, will simply continue to ignore anything from Brussels which they don’t like and it does seem a pity that we don’t follow suit. That, however, would mean taking a lead from our Gallic neighbours, who - since before the Tudors - have always specialised in being distinctly irritating, one reason why our distant forefathers towed the UK away from the European mainland, a big moat between us and anyone who speaks with that funny accent being considered a good idea, in the great scheme of things.
So why do we need this tagging thing? Perhaps it’s simply to ensure we know the exact location of every sheep within the UK at any time. After all, that’s long been the ambition of most governments for all their citizens, so extending their remit to animals doesn’t seem illogical.
Stunning pictures on the Colwyn Bay local forum today reveal with crystal clarity how Eirias park has been allowed to deteriorate from its heyday in the ’50s. That a resort and attraction with such potential should have been allowed to slither into oblivion the way it has says a lot in itself, but the fact that the movers and shakers behind a proposed regeneration come not from the councillors but from a tiny body of extremely concerned residents, headed by the Ecological Friends of Colwyn Bay, an organisation formed through the Colwyn Bay Local forum, says even more.
But there’s more: revealing the disingenuity, if not downright dishonesty, of the ‘spokeswoman’ who argued passionately that filling Colwyn Bay with a mass of offices would somehow regenerate the town centre, based on the somewhat flimsy rationale that there wouldn’t be a canteen provided for the office workers who would then, presumably, be forced into the local chip shop for their lunches, Cllr John Oddy has published a link to CCBC’s own site, where clear evidence of the planning for such a canteen is revealed. Mind you, this was the same spokeswoman who revealed her master-plan for the old civic centre is to convert it into a ‘high class hotel’. Hmmm. Isn’t this somewhat at odds with CCBC’s assertions that there’s no future for tourism in Colwyn Bay? Not to mention being a daft idea...
CCBC’s planning department has a dismal track record, to put it mildly. It was, after all, their remarkable astuteness and commendable diligence that saw planning permission to convert the dilapidated tram shelter on West Shore delayed for three years after the original application, it was they who ‘forgot’ to copy the application to CADW and it was they who - generally - seek to block every innovation and new idea that might conceivably bring in more visitors to either Llandudno or Colwyn Bay.
And they call themselves public servants? Roll on the revolution :-)
For more information on the group contact (01492) 531511.
So why do we need this tagging thing? Perhaps it’s simply to ensure we know the exact location of every sheep within the UK at any time. After all, that’s long been the ambition of most governments for all their citizens, so extending their remit to animals doesn’t seem illogical.
Stunning pictures on the Colwyn Bay local forum today reveal with crystal clarity how Eirias park has been allowed to deteriorate from its heyday in the ’50s. That a resort and attraction with such potential should have been allowed to slither into oblivion the way it has says a lot in itself, but the fact that the movers and shakers behind a proposed regeneration come not from the councillors but from a tiny body of extremely concerned residents, headed by the Ecological Friends of Colwyn Bay, an organisation formed through the Colwyn Bay Local forum, says even more.
But there’s more: revealing the disingenuity, if not downright dishonesty, of the ‘spokeswoman’ who argued passionately that filling Colwyn Bay with a mass of offices would somehow regenerate the town centre, based on the somewhat flimsy rationale that there wouldn’t be a canteen provided for the office workers who would then, presumably, be forced into the local chip shop for their lunches, Cllr John Oddy has published a link to CCBC’s own site, where clear evidence of the planning for such a canteen is revealed. Mind you, this was the same spokeswoman who revealed her master-plan for the old civic centre is to convert it into a ‘high class hotel’. Hmmm. Isn’t this somewhat at odds with CCBC’s assertions that there’s no future for tourism in Colwyn Bay? Not to mention being a daft idea...
CCBC’s planning department has a dismal track record, to put it mildly. It was, after all, their remarkable astuteness and commendable diligence that saw planning permission to convert the dilapidated tram shelter on West Shore delayed for three years after the original application, it was they who ‘forgot’ to copy the application to CADW and it was they who - generally - seek to block every innovation and new idea that might conceivably bring in more visitors to either Llandudno or Colwyn Bay.
And they call themselves public servants? Roll on the revolution :-)
For more information on the group contact (01492) 531511.
Saturday, 5 September 2009
Toast, Tarsals and Tyranny
Yesterday started out relatively badly and went downhill quite quickly. Mostly, this had to do with the toast. We tend to try to eat healthily, and - as everyone knows - that costs money. Breakfast consists of one flagon of black, unsweetened coffee, one glass of pure orange juice (have you noticed the price of that? It’d probably be cheaper to have it flown in from the States on a daily basis:-)) and a slice of a very seedy, crunchy, brown bread toast.
The bread baker, however, hadn’t made his dough too well this week, so a large air bubble had formed an inch below the crust. The effect of that, of course, is to produce a slice of toast that comes in kit form - like an MFI wall cabinet or an episode of the X Factor. Fishing the small bit out of the toaster also provides a voyage of discovery, with all manner of implements being considered, then discarded as visions of cartoon-like electrical mayhem appear momentarily in imaginary thought bubbles and dissipate as quickly as a flash of lightning.
Unfulfilled, (and not very filled, either) the next port of call in the mornings is always the email client, to see what exciting enhancements to various bodily appendages are being offered as sure-fire solutions to the iniquities of life and the universe in general that day. Yesterday, however, the supplier of my keyboard was taking his normally high-handed and somewhat Teutonic approach to my request for a refund.
As regular readers will know, I am involved with the UK Consumers’ Association, and thus tend to be aware of things like shopping rights. Recently, I had decided to replace my trusty Maccally keyboard, really for no better reason than I wanted one with less reflective key tops. The actual keyboard has provided sterling service for over ten years, as does all kit from this manufacturer. However, they’re no longer producing one which has black keys with white letters, so ‘twas to another source I went, the oddly-titled ‘AllMacShop’.
This particular company sent a new keyboard, which promptly shed its numerical zero key on the keypad. I assumed I could live with that, as the rest of the keyboard seemed okay, so I popped it back into place and carried on using the thing. The next feature, however, was the loss of function on the ‘i’ key, acquiring a spongy feel and requiring the key to be stabbed with all the ferocity of an aged grandmother accusing the checkout operator of charging too much for her plum.
With online shopping, your rights are the same as when normal shopping: Goods must be of satisfactory quality, fit for purpose and as described when sold. If a retailer breaches any of these terms you have a right to reject the goods within a reasonable time and get a full refund. Or you can demand that the retailer gives you a refund, repair or replacement. If you send goods back for anything that is the fault of the supplier you should not have to pay the postage.
That last bit is extremely important, as is the bit about the retailer being responsible and not any third party. So I was less than ecstatic when the supplier told me I had to contact a technical support department before returning the thing. I explained, patiently, that it was a duff ‘i’ key, the symptoms of which were fairly precise and easy to recognise (no letter ‘i’ for starters...) and that it was their responsibility to sort it, and not a third party’s. The response to that was a rather high-handed and sarcastic rejoinder, in essence explaining that - as most customers were idiots - they always have to get this tech company to ascertain that there really is a problem and it’s not simply that the finger I use for the ‘i’ key has fallen off without my noticing. However, they would sort out an RMA number shortly, and I could return the keyboard. They also sent a list of the requirements for returning the item, which was only a little less daunting than a first edition of War and Peace, and helpfully included a link to a web page, saying exactly the same thing.
What was missing, however, was any mention of postage, pre-paid labels or the like. As you’d imagine, by now I was a little concerned ,and so dashed off a further email as follows:
Dear Graham,
I am returning the item shown below today. As your label does not appear to be a freepost label, and as I can find no mention of the postage costs anywhere on your site of the email you have sent I shall endeavour to send the item without charge If, however, Royal Mail demands a fee, then I shall forward the cost of that to you in my next email, and will - presumably - within 28 days receive a refund of the postage costs and a refund for the keyboard.
I should also point out that the day the keyboard arrived, the numerical '0' key fell out. I re-fitted it, but it fell out again. After a third attempt, the key has remained in place. However, when the 'i' key support failed the other day, it became obvious that the keyboard is simply a faulty item overall.
Which elicited a much speedier response from this epitome of customer care excellence:
With regards to our order reference.....
The warranty on the item you purchased is a limited warranty which is "return to base". The return is not free and it is not freepost. The cost of returning it for repair/replacement is yours not ours. If you return the item with no postage on it, it will either not arrive or it will not be accepted and it will be returned to you at your cost by the Royal Mail. The cost of posting your item back for repair/replacement will not be refunded.
As you purchased the item on the 24th of May 2009 you are not entitled to a full refund of the product but a repair or replacement of the product under warranty (as above). We have no record of you ever stating the product was defective upon receiving it so making this claim now is irrelevant.
Now, they’re wrong on at least two counts. The return postage is their responsibility, not mine and whether I told them that the thing was defective at the outset or not is not - as they claim - irrelevant. In fact, it’s now down to them to prove it wasn’t defective, not down to me to prove it is.
What all this points out, however, is that mail-order and internet companies who treat their customers badly - as does this outfit - will eventually lose out, because word spreads about this sort of thing and people return to using trusted internet suppliers, such as Amazon. Most folk are willing to pay a little more, for the security of knowing that you don’t have to enter into a civil court battle to make a company start behaving like a decent organisation should. The saga continues...
The perfect end to the perfect day, however, was provided when I ran my left foot into the door post, an action which induced pain which I can only liken to having teeth pulled without the niceties of anaesthesia. It became easier simply to go to bed and hope - fervently - that tomorrow (well, today now) can’t be as bad. On the other hand, I’ve just seen the forecast....
The bread baker, however, hadn’t made his dough too well this week, so a large air bubble had formed an inch below the crust. The effect of that, of course, is to produce a slice of toast that comes in kit form - like an MFI wall cabinet or an episode of the X Factor. Fishing the small bit out of the toaster also provides a voyage of discovery, with all manner of implements being considered, then discarded as visions of cartoon-like electrical mayhem appear momentarily in imaginary thought bubbles and dissipate as quickly as a flash of lightning.
Unfulfilled, (and not very filled, either) the next port of call in the mornings is always the email client, to see what exciting enhancements to various bodily appendages are being offered as sure-fire solutions to the iniquities of life and the universe in general that day. Yesterday, however, the supplier of my keyboard was taking his normally high-handed and somewhat Teutonic approach to my request for a refund.
As regular readers will know, I am involved with the UK Consumers’ Association, and thus tend to be aware of things like shopping rights. Recently, I had decided to replace my trusty Maccally keyboard, really for no better reason than I wanted one with less reflective key tops. The actual keyboard has provided sterling service for over ten years, as does all kit from this manufacturer. However, they’re no longer producing one which has black keys with white letters, so ‘twas to another source I went, the oddly-titled ‘AllMacShop’.
This particular company sent a new keyboard, which promptly shed its numerical zero key on the keypad. I assumed I could live with that, as the rest of the keyboard seemed okay, so I popped it back into place and carried on using the thing. The next feature, however, was the loss of function on the ‘i’ key, acquiring a spongy feel and requiring the key to be stabbed with all the ferocity of an aged grandmother accusing the checkout operator of charging too much for her plum.
With online shopping, your rights are the same as when normal shopping: Goods must be of satisfactory quality, fit for purpose and as described when sold. If a retailer breaches any of these terms you have a right to reject the goods within a reasonable time and get a full refund. Or you can demand that the retailer gives you a refund, repair or replacement. If you send goods back for anything that is the fault of the supplier you should not have to pay the postage.
That last bit is extremely important, as is the bit about the retailer being responsible and not any third party. So I was less than ecstatic when the supplier told me I had to contact a technical support department before returning the thing. I explained, patiently, that it was a duff ‘i’ key, the symptoms of which were fairly precise and easy to recognise (no letter ‘i’ for starters...) and that it was their responsibility to sort it, and not a third party’s. The response to that was a rather high-handed and sarcastic rejoinder, in essence explaining that - as most customers were idiots - they always have to get this tech company to ascertain that there really is a problem and it’s not simply that the finger I use for the ‘i’ key has fallen off without my noticing. However, they would sort out an RMA number shortly, and I could return the keyboard. They also sent a list of the requirements for returning the item, which was only a little less daunting than a first edition of War and Peace, and helpfully included a link to a web page, saying exactly the same thing.
What was missing, however, was any mention of postage, pre-paid labels or the like. As you’d imagine, by now I was a little concerned ,and so dashed off a further email as follows:
Dear Graham,
I am returning the item shown below today. As your label does not appear to be a freepost label, and as I can find no mention of the postage costs anywhere on your site of the email you have sent I shall endeavour to send the item without charge If, however, Royal Mail demands a fee, then I shall forward the cost of that to you in my next email, and will - presumably - within 28 days receive a refund of the postage costs and a refund for the keyboard.
I should also point out that the day the keyboard arrived, the numerical '0' key fell out. I re-fitted it, but it fell out again. After a third attempt, the key has remained in place. However, when the 'i' key support failed the other day, it became obvious that the keyboard is simply a faulty item overall.
Which elicited a much speedier response from this epitome of customer care excellence:
With regards to our order reference.....
The warranty on the item you purchased is a limited warranty which is "return to base". The return is not free and it is not freepost. The cost of returning it for repair/replacement is yours not ours. If you return the item with no postage on it, it will either not arrive or it will not be accepted and it will be returned to you at your cost by the Royal Mail. The cost of posting your item back for repair/replacement will not be refunded.
As you purchased the item on the 24th of May 2009 you are not entitled to a full refund of the product but a repair or replacement of the product under warranty (as above). We have no record of you ever stating the product was defective upon receiving it so making this claim now is irrelevant.
Now, they’re wrong on at least two counts. The return postage is their responsibility, not mine and whether I told them that the thing was defective at the outset or not is not - as they claim - irrelevant. In fact, it’s now down to them to prove it wasn’t defective, not down to me to prove it is.
What all this points out, however, is that mail-order and internet companies who treat their customers badly - as does this outfit - will eventually lose out, because word spreads about this sort of thing and people return to using trusted internet suppliers, such as Amazon. Most folk are willing to pay a little more, for the security of knowing that you don’t have to enter into a civil court battle to make a company start behaving like a decent organisation should. The saga continues...
The perfect end to the perfect day, however, was provided when I ran my left foot into the door post, an action which induced pain which I can only liken to having teeth pulled without the niceties of anaesthesia. It became easier simply to go to bed and hope - fervently - that tomorrow (well, today now) can’t be as bad. On the other hand, I’ve just seen the forecast....
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Where's it gone?
The Internet's been in a bit of a mess recently; Google lost several hours of folks’ emails when an engineer tweaked the wrong line and the irritating “root-x” hacker exploit continues to damage unsecured servers.
It not only reveals our worrying dependence on the internet and its functionaries, but it really does make you wonder why the aptly named web has gained such a hold over our lives. Yet the convergence of domestic technology - which is advancing at a truly frightening rate - means that in five years time we won’t have to leave our homes at all, unless we need to use an outside loo.
There’s a curious irony in the way that the most successful technological innovation of the era - the mobile ‘phone - uses the very technology which brings the world to us, thus rendering the mobile bit of the equation potentially obsolete.
Think about it: at the moment we don’t need to go shopping - for almost anything. Yesterday we ordered a Which? best buy, top-of-the range pressure washer and it arrived an hour ago, for a total cost of £64.00 less than Argos would have charged us to pick it up. Our grocery shopping is delivered by Tesco or Sainsbury (whichever has the best offer on Scotch:-), anything we need can be delivered - often for nothing - and we maintain touch with the outside world by email or telephony. The emergence of ubiquitous satellite providers means anyone in the UK can receive enough channels to keep even the most ardent couch potato quietly growing roots while Freesat and its cohorts are marching steadily towards the new era of Tv-on-demand through the internet, and most new TVs now come replete with enough connections to make a nuclear launch-code operator die contented. The TV - long lambasted as the sole reason for teenage pregnancies, alcohol-fuelled violence and Eastenders - is moving inexorably towards the focal point of the house; where once it was the kitchen, as the kiddies clamoured to help bake cakes and make fudge, now the TV - almost magically acting as a social magnet - draws the members of the household together, providing a malign avuncular influence over its denizens.
But as all household gadgets acquire the ability to hook up to the internet, and the ‘fridge calls the repair company to let them know it’s about to break down, we might look back fondly on the days when the milk was left downstairs in a bowl of water and Radio was something only the neighbours had.
It not only reveals our worrying dependence on the internet and its functionaries, but it really does make you wonder why the aptly named web has gained such a hold over our lives. Yet the convergence of domestic technology - which is advancing at a truly frightening rate - means that in five years time we won’t have to leave our homes at all, unless we need to use an outside loo.
There’s a curious irony in the way that the most successful technological innovation of the era - the mobile ‘phone - uses the very technology which brings the world to us, thus rendering the mobile bit of the equation potentially obsolete.
Think about it: at the moment we don’t need to go shopping - for almost anything. Yesterday we ordered a Which? best buy, top-of-the range pressure washer and it arrived an hour ago, for a total cost of £64.00 less than Argos would have charged us to pick it up. Our grocery shopping is delivered by Tesco or Sainsbury (whichever has the best offer on Scotch:-), anything we need can be delivered - often for nothing - and we maintain touch with the outside world by email or telephony. The emergence of ubiquitous satellite providers means anyone in the UK can receive enough channels to keep even the most ardent couch potato quietly growing roots while Freesat and its cohorts are marching steadily towards the new era of Tv-on-demand through the internet, and most new TVs now come replete with enough connections to make a nuclear launch-code operator die contented. The TV - long lambasted as the sole reason for teenage pregnancies, alcohol-fuelled violence and Eastenders - is moving inexorably towards the focal point of the house; where once it was the kitchen, as the kiddies clamoured to help bake cakes and make fudge, now the TV - almost magically acting as a social magnet - draws the members of the household together, providing a malign avuncular influence over its denizens.
But as all household gadgets acquire the ability to hook up to the internet, and the ‘fridge calls the repair company to let them know it’s about to break down, we might look back fondly on the days when the milk was left downstairs in a bowl of water and Radio was something only the neighbours had.
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Take two of these
Well, it's the end of summer, and what better way to celebrate the start of Autumn than to see a few genuine medical comments actually wrtten on patients' records in a South African hospital...
1. The patient refused autopsy.
2. The patient has no previous history of suicides.
3. Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.
4. Patient's medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.
5. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
6. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.
7. On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.
8. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
9.The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.
10. Discharge status: Alive but without my permission.
11. Healthy appearing decrepit 69-year old male, mentally alert but forgetful.
12. Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
13. She is numb from her toes down.
14. While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.
15. The skin was moist and dry.
16. Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.
17. Patient was alert and unresponsive.
18. Rectal examination revealed a normal size thyroid.
19. She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.
20. I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical therapy.
21. Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation.
22. Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.
23. The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.
24. Skin: somewhat pale but present.
25. The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.
26. Large brown stool ambulating in the hall.
27. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.
And who says the NHS is in trouble? Have a wonderful day :-))
1. The patient refused autopsy.
2. The patient has no previous history of suicides.
3. Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.
4. Patient's medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.
5. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
6. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.
7. On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.
8. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
9.The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.
10. Discharge status: Alive but without my permission.
11. Healthy appearing decrepit 69-year old male, mentally alert but forgetful.
12. Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
13. She is numb from her toes down.
14. While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.
15. The skin was moist and dry.
16. Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.
17. Patient was alert and unresponsive.
18. Rectal examination revealed a normal size thyroid.
19. She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.
20. I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical therapy.
21. Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation.
22. Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.
23. The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.
24. Skin: somewhat pale but present.
25. The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.
26. Large brown stool ambulating in the hall.
27. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.
And who says the NHS is in trouble? Have a wonderful day :-))
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
