Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in David's got talent's LiveJournal:

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Monday, February 8th, 2010
11:16 am	Lines on the prosecution of Elliot Morley, MP, for false accounting under the theft act. To the tune of 'Common People' by Pulp. With apologies to Jarvis Cocker, not that I think he'd mind. He came from Scunthorpe and he worked for Hull City, He saw how much cash was kept in the kitty There was loads, he could tell He saw the taxpayer was loaded, He saw that for his wallet this boded It boded well And so come election time, he said "I want to be House of Commons people, I want to spend like Commons people do, I want to buy like Commons people, I want to sponge like Commons people, Off you." And what else did he do? He claimed a trip to the supermarket, I don't know why but he had to start it somewhere, So it started there. They said you can claim on expenses, Even receipts you submit on pretences He said "Yeah? Well I won’t make any trouble for Blair." This how you live like Commons people, You can claim like Commons people do, Just make sure you vote with Commons people, Vote along with the Commons people, For TB. And he obeyed the whips command; He just smiled and held out his hand. Always vote the party line, ‘cos you haven’t got a spine. Never stand out from the crowd, ‘cos dissent is not allowed. If constituents complain Your seat is safe so don’t explain Don’t dare oppose the premier Because you’d risk your ministry career And so he lived like Commons people, And he did what Commons people do, Gordon Brown ignores the Commons people, When you vote, you’re told just what to do, So he put his expenses through, Because there's nothing else to do. (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, February 5th, 2010
12:43 pm	So, I went to this concert... It's difficult to know how to start describing Rammstein live if the person you're talking to hasn't seen them. It's a bit like when you were about six, getting home after a particularly exciting school trip - or maybe a Pantomime - and your mum asking what it was like. "Oh, Mummy!", you'd say. "It was great! There were these Germans with guitars and they played really really loud music and then there were explosions and then they put on masks with flamethrowers on them and shot fire all over while they played their guitars and then they pretended to fight and it looked like one of them was killed but he wasn't he just had a sparkly suit on so it looked like he was made of electricity and he had a tesla coil and then they had a tickertape parade with big industrial fans and then something blew up and..." And through all this your mum smiles and nods indulgently right up until the point you get overexcited, wet yourself, and have to go to bed. Thinking about it like that, I've not changed much in the last few decades. I hadn't really rated the latest album from Rammstein (three stars on Amazon, thanks very much), and so I kinda thought the fire had gone out of the group. As it was, live, they're just downright formidable: capable of taking what I considered to be a mediocre album filler track (Fruhling in Paris) and making it into one of the most remarkable performances of just about anything I've seen in years. The other real pleasure in the show is in having no idea what they're going to do next. yes, we expect flamethrowers and explosions, but they can still both surprise and entertain with something completely off the wall. What's that he's doing now?, you wonder about the lead singer. Ah! He's spraying the audience with a giant robot foam cannon on caterpillar tracks. Well, I can honestly say I've not seen anyone do that before, or perhaps Now, what is that on his back? Oh! It's a pair of wings with a 20' span and they've got flamethrowers on them! Well, bless me. Anyway, a good time was had by all and I discovered that Tai Chi is really jolly handy when the person standing next to you wants to engage in some of that violent dancing which the kids of today are so enamoured of and you don't particularly want them to. (9 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 4th, 2010
2:14 pm	[Politics] The election race hots up. After people pointed out that David Cameron looked remarkably like Data out of Star Trek: TNG on his latest election poster: It appears that Brent Spiner, who played Data, has heard about his and issued a statement on Twitter that he would be happy to lead the people of England (plus Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland when he was reminded they're a part of the Union too), and that we'd better not call him anything but Brent. Alternatively, he suggests that if anything were to happen to David Cameron, he could just take over, like in The Prisoner of Zenda. I'm not making this up - it's right here. And people say that politics is boring. So: Data for PM? (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010
10:45 am	Deconstructing the semiotics* of Knight Rider Every generation grows up convinced that the entertainment when they were children was the best ever, and kids today - tsk! - they just dont' know what they're missing. Obviously, most generations are wrong in this belief as it has been established as scientific fact that kids entertainment was best in the 1980's when I was growing up, and all the other, lesser, decades just don't have a patch on it. Anyway, I recently picked up a box set of Knight Rider because I loved it when I was about ten. The gripping adventures of a man and his cybernetic, artificially intelligent robot car who drove around together solving crimes and bringing criminals who operate above the law to justice. What could be more wholesome than that? I hadn't seen an episode in maybe twenty years and it's nice to have a bit of nostaligia when I get home from work now and again, but as I've watched my way through the first few eopisodes something has dawned on me which I just never realised when I was younger. You see, as I watch it I realise that it isn't just a simple gripping adventure story. It's the story of a love affair between a man with his shirt open to his navel and his big, black, sleek, powerful, but curiously camp car. To be blunt, it is really quite incredibly homoerotic. I didn't pick up on that when I was ten. Take the episode I watched last night as an example. Kitt (the supercar) was stolen by a villain who removed the AI CPU from the car and dropped it in the middle of nowhere. Michael (the hero) found the CPU (containing KITT's personality) simply by following his instincts. As he said; "I just had this feeling of his presense", and the two then spent most of the episode driving around in an ancient jalopy arguing like an old married couple. Eventually, the villains were defeated, the chassis recovered and KITT's mind put back in. To celebrate their reunion, Michael and Kitt went for a drive and the episode ended with this exchange: Michael (pressing hard on the accelerator): "C'mon, Kitt! Let's open you up and see what we can do!" Kitt: "Oooh, Michael, that feels good. Faster!" I'm just surprised that the titles didn't roll over a shot of them driving into a tunnel. The things is, all the episodes are like this. If you look for it, they're crammed with innuendo. It is, to coin a phrase, eye-opening. And the more I think about it, this sort of thing was everywhere in the films and TV I liked as a kid, and I just never noticed. I mean, everyone knows that Top Gun is about the passionate affair between Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer, but what about The A-Team? Four rough, tough single men who live together in a van and vie for Hannibal's attention in a grim 'daddy'bear' relationship. Predator? A bunch of heavy-muscled single men being picked off one at a time by an 'invisible killer'. Rambo? A muscular, shirtless single man who'll do anything for a man in uniform as they're the only people who understand him. And don't even get me started on He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. I'll tell you what - if I'd realised all this when I was fifteen it'd've completely changed my perceptions of television. I wonder just how much of this was deliberate, or whether the entire 1980's were just inadvertantly spectacularly camp. But what do I know? So, a poll. Poll #1520661 Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 24 Which is the most homoerotic piece of 1980's entertainment? View Answers Top Gun 12 (50.0%) The A-Team 0 (0.0%) Knight Rider 3 (12.5%) Predator 1 (4.2%) Commando 1 (4.2%) Rambo (any of them) 2 (8.3%) Air Wolf 2 (8.3%) He-Man 12 (50.0%) The Dungeons and Dragons cartoon 1 (4.2%) Magnum, P.I. 4 (16.7%) Other (in comments) 0 (0.0%) *Does anyone actually know what a Semiotic is? For all I know it might be a type of fish. (48 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010
9:41 am	Brains? When out striding briskly across the rolling grounds of the Stately Davy Estates, in between setting the hounds on passing locals and stamping on any flowers I might encounter I often divert myself by thinking. Last time I went out walking I got to thinking about zombie movies, which led me on to thinking about what I'd do if I were caught in the situation depicted in films like Dawn of the Dead or Resident Evil; i.e. that zombies are prowling the land eating folk, and I'm trying to survive. What would I do? I look out over the countryside and wonder where I would hide, and when the food runs out, which of my friends I would eat first in order to survive?* Naturally, zombies are very stupid and slow but they're also persistent and hard to stop so relying upon fleetness of foot alone is a short-term solution. Some way of avoiding being devoured in the longer term must be found, and quickly. It's a diverting thought - the body of literature on the subject is large, ranging from hiding in a cave with a gun and 60000 tins of Spam right through to raggedyman stripping off and joining the throng in the hope of some hot zombie love. So here's the question for today: You wake up tomorrow morning to discover that the dead are rising from the grave with a hunger for the flesh of the living. What do you do? *There's a post for another day right there. (16 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, February 1st, 2010
11:26 am	All bound for Morningside, many miles away. I would say that I've never slept on a train, but that wouldn't be true - I do it most mornings. However, what I have never done is slept on a train which is specifically designed to be slept on, with cabins and beds and the like. Britain is sufficiently titchy that unless you're planning to go from Penzance to Fort William the long way you don't really need that sort of thing. Americans and Australians going from one side of their country to another will need a few days and a comfy mattress but hopping from Hull to Liverpool just isn't the same. All the same I decided that as it's something I haven't done before I ought to give it a whirl, and so last Friday I found myself standing on a chilly platform at Euston waiting for the overnight sleeper train to Edinburgh. A holdover from a more civilised age of rail travel, the sleeper takes a leisurely route up the country and takes it's time about it - over seven hours for a trip with usually takes less than five. Moreover, at nigh-on two hundred quid per ticket (if you want a bed, anyway) it's expensive enough to be utterly uncompetitive with faster means of transport and so the clientele are interestingly self-selecting. People rich enough to afford it over flying or the normal train whilst being civilised enough not be in much of a rush. Naturally, I decided I'd fit right in. Getting on the train I discovered, to my considerable delight, that the decor in the lounge car (it has a lounge car. I've not seen one of those in a while) was straight out of the 1987 Ideal Home catalogue with beige carpets on the walls, stainless steel chairs and sofas made of something that was almost leather, but not. I knew, right then, that I was going to enjoy myself. I made my way to my cabin, got my luggage stowed and read the 'welcome aboard' leaflet. Your host, it read (they don't have a conductor or a ticket inspector on the sleeper. They have hosts, which is lovely) Welcomes you aboard the Caledonian Sleeper service and invites you to join us in our on-board Bistro. On-board Bistro? I thought. How can anyone fail to love a train with an on-board Bistro? Closing my cabin door behind me I sauntered down to the Bistro to check out the menu and bar. As it's a service to Scotland I naturally assumed that the drinks would be limited to things like Cabernet McEwans and Pinot Buckfast, but no. Amongst a wide number of other firsts in my life, the Caledonian Sleeper is the first rail service, first-class or otherwise, I have ever used where the available drinks include Chateau Lafite. Moreover, the barman was an amiable Scot who reminded me of Mrs. Doyle out of Father Ted but with booze. "Good evening sir. What'll you be drinking? Stella? McEwans? Guiness? Whisky?" "Um...what soft drinks do you have?" "Irn Bru, Coke, and red and white wine." and "Will you have another drink there, sir?" "No, I've spent up. I'll go to bed." "You've no money left?" "Nope, I'm out." "Well, just have this wee one one the house, then." and "Do you have any water?" "We've got Strathclyde water?" "What's that?" "Well, in England ye call it Gin." It was clear that most of the passengers were going to stay up drinking all the way from London to Edinburgh and get off the train at 8am utterly plastered, but I'm too much of a lightweight for that sort of thing these days and I went to bed at about 1am where I realised why staying up would have been the better idea. You see the cabins are a masterpeice of ergonomic design with everything you might happen to need cleverly slotted together in an area about the size of a bathtub, but as a result the beds are perpendicular to the direction of travel - and this means that every time the train takes a bend you slide up and down your bed and end up crumpled against the bulkhead like someone dropped a puppet. I might as well have sat up drinking for all the sleep I got, but I suppose that's the point if you're going to Scotland. (8 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
10:13 am	I wish it could be a non-denominational Christmas ev'ry day. Every Christmas the bookshops are full of annuals and novelty books, for the sort of people who go into bookshops once a year without much of an idea what to get for relatives who they don't see very often and don't really know what they like. As I ambled through Waterstones before Christmas this year, one book which caught my eye was There's Probably no God: The Atheist's Guide to Christmas My immediate assumption was that this had to be a spoof novelty; full of advice on how to sit moodily over a candle muttering "Bah! Humbug!" whilst people around you enjoyed themselves. However, it turned out that (as usual) my assumptions were wrong and it was perfectly serious. I picked it up and had a browse and found it was full of short essays by prominent atheists like Richard Dawkins, Simon le Bon and Josie Long (although her inclusion stretches anyone's definition of 'prominent') about how you can enjoy Christmas without having to believe any of that religion stuff. It turns out - get this, it's good - that you can have parties and give presents at Christmas even if you're an atheist. My reaction to this wasn't disbelief of mockery or anything like that; it was simply me thinking There's people out there willing to pay good money to be told that?, and as usual when there's money to be made, my mind got to working. There are, after all, plenty of other religious festivals for books to be written about them from the atheist point of view. There's probably no Bunny: An Atheist Guide to Easter: "...and don't forget when giving children their easter eggs - do make sure they know they're from you and not an anthropomophised cartoon rabbit!" There's probably no Jehovah: An atheist guide to Passover: "Unleavened bread is high in carbs, so don't overdo it - and remember that spreading blood from a freshly sacrificed lamb on your lintel may breach EU food hygiene regulations". There's probably no Moon Goddess: An atheist guide to Beltane: If you want to light a bonfire and dance naked around it, knock yourselves out. Just, please, don't do it when the author is anywhere nearby. It's never attractive." There's probably no virgins: An atheist guide to suicide bombing: "Blowing yourself up on public transport has a long history, and there's no reason why the irreligious can't get some of that action." In fact, pretty much every weekend has some sort of religious festival so if I put my mind to it I reckon I can churn something out every week which with luck people who don't believe in any God but feel the need to tell everyone will give me their hard-earned loot for. This coming weekend we can have: There's probably no wise men: an atheist guide to the fourth Sunday after Epiphany: According to the order of service the lesson for this Sunday is Matthew 8:23 - 34 which deals with the taming of the tempest on the sea of Gallilee and the casting out of devils, so I recommend atheists get into the swing of things by booking themselves into a floatation tank this weekend and then making plans to vote against the Labour Party in the upcoming elections. That'll be £5.99, please. (22 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 25th, 2010
11:19 am	More reasons (like you need them) not to let me look after your kids. Me: ...so when you go walking in the woods, you'll see lots of big stones and sometimes when you look under them you'll find a baby which you can keep and take home with you. And that's where babies come from. Small child: So people who have more babies look under a lot of stones? Me: Well, some people have more time than others to go up to the woods and look. We call them 'scroungers', because they spend their time scrounging around under stones in the woods rather than going to work. Small child: So did mummy find me under a stone? Me: Well, let's just say that your mummy has been into the woods with a lot of boys and leave it at that. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 22nd, 2010
11:04 am	The Bride of Mandelstein. The howling of wolves and the crash of thunder. The opening chords of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D. Then, a booming knock at a door. The music stops. A voice of great evil: Enter? A door creaks open. Flunky: Gordon Brown to see you, Lord Mandelson. Peter Mandelson (for it is he):Bid him enter. Gordon Brown (entering): Oh, hallo, Peter. Gordon Brown. I’m the Prime Minister? Peter Mandelson: Yes, yes, I remember you, what is it? Gordon Brown: It’s about, uh, it’s about this list of demands you’ve sent me. About your continued support for me as leader of the Labour party? Peter Mandelson: Yes? What’s the problem. Gordon Brown: Well, there might be a few issues. This first point for example. You no longer want to be Lord Mandelson of Hartlepool. Peter Mandelson: No. Gordon Brown: You want to be Count Mandelson. Peter Mandelson: I think it has a ring to it, don’t you? Gordon Brown: Well, we don’t really have Counts in this country? Peter Mandelson: A mere legislative problem. Stick a bill through or something. You know, whatever it is you do in Parliament. Gordon Brown: Well, I suppose so, but…um…this next point. This new tax you want putting in the next budget. Peter Mandelson: I can’t see there being any problem with it. After all, we’re taking fifty percent here and forty percent there. It’s quite a small thing, really. Gordon Brown: A fifteen percent levy on the blood of virgins? Peter Mandelson: You think that a little low? Am I being underambitous in my targets? Perhaps I should ask for twenty five percent? Gordon Brown: No! No, no. I’m sure fifteen percent will be fine… I hope. We just won’t announce it until after the next election, and maybe slip it into the NHS reforms or something. Peter Mandelson: Was there anything more? Gordon Brown: Well, one final thing. You say you don’t want to oppose the Tories tax benefits for married couples? Peter Mandelson: That’s right. You see, I have, for some time, considered that I should take myself…a bride. Gordon Brown: A bride? No offense, Peter, but I didn’t think you were the marrying kind what with you being… you know. Peter Mandelson: Gay? Gordon Brown:No, undead. Peter Mandelson: A count should have a bride, Brown, and I believe I have found her. Behold! The sound of a curtain being pulled aside Gordon Brown: Heaven Help me! Peter Mandelson: Is she not beautiful? Soon, she will live! Can you hear the storm grow in intensity? The storm grows in intensity Peter Mandelson: A single bolt of lightning shall awaken her, and she shall rule at my side as my bride! Listen…it is happening! A bolt of lightning, the crackle of electricity. Chains rattle and then…the first, uncertain steps Peter Mandelson: She lives! See! She walks! Isn’t she beautiful, Gordon? Look – she’s going to speak! Margaret Thatcher:YOU TURN IF YOU WANT TO, THE LADY’S NOT FOR TURNING Peter Mandelson: Yes! Gordon Brown: Actually, she's quite sexy. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 21st, 2010
1:08 pm	I wasn't going to post today... ...but then I discovered all three of these, and I haven't laughed so much in a while so I thought I'd share. (Work safe, but need sound) (11 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 20th, 2010
10:45 am	Climate change I was in a swanky cocktail bar the other night and over a long mojito I got talking to a girl, like you do. As we chatted we got talking abut the weather, and she brought up climate change and mentioned her green activism. In response, I pointed out the energy usage to make refrigerants for the ice in her drink, the high-gain non-LED lighting at the bar, and the way she kept checking her email on her Blackberry and the fact that the single biggest driver of human energy consumption in the last decade has been online activity. Needless to say this could have been better received and she asked me what I thought about climate change. "You know what?", I said. "I haven't a clue." As it turned out, this wasn't the right thing to say either. Socrates once mentioned that the wise man knows that he knows nothing and, like Bill & Ted, my response to that is "Whoa, that's me". The problem with owning up to not having a clue on climate change is that it leaves one open to being attacked by people on both sides of what is a very polarised debate. Say it on the Guardian's Comment is free section, and you're an evil free-marketeer who just wants to burn all the oil as fast as possible and doesn't love Gaia enough. Say it on the Telegraph Blogs and you're an evil lefty who just wants to seize the opportunity to force through a high-tax, high-social-control regime. As a result I just tend to make jokes about it because really I don't have a clue. Certainly I accept that it's almost certain that the climate is changing. Expecting a massively complex system to remain static over time is unrealistic and I've no problem with that. However, the causes and effects are so muddy that I struggle to decide anything beyond that. You see, both the man-made climate change and the non-man made climate change sides present pretty much identical data and claim it reinforces their position; take, for example, these two graphs. They represent the Central England Dataset, which is the oldest continuous recording of temperatures in the world and should, you'd think, give a reasonably accurate depiction of what's going on. Graph One seems to show, pretty unequivocally, a sudden sharp spike in temperatures in the last few dacades which is commensurate with human industrial activity: As we can see, it's suddenly got a lot warmer since about 1980, which is what man-made climate change would predict. However, Graph Two presents exactly the same data slightly differently and we get wildly different results: As we can see, this shows a consistent, slow rise in temperature over 400 years, which is exactly what we would expect as we're still coming out of the medieval Little Ice Age. The problem is that so much data and advice and information is similarly presented by both sides in such mutually contradictory ways that eventually I give up trying to follow it and just say "I don't know". The recent evidence that the International Panel on Climate Change based their position on glacial melting on a single unattributed quote from a 1999 New Scientist article, and that University of East Anglia's Climate Research Unit actively witheld negative cases in their research and tried to undermine peer review have only served to intensify my confusion, not make me any more confident in any one position. Similarly Mars is also growing warmer in line with sunspot activity and there's no people there (probably) to be belting out CO2; on the other hand, polar ice caps are shifting so plainly something is going on here. So what conclusion to draw? And what should one do? Well, I already do all the stuff which gets put in "10 ways to reduce your carbon footprint" articles. I don't drive a car and I use lots of public transport. I turn off lights when I'm not in the room - not because I want to save the world, but because electricity costs money and I'm not going to pay for something I'm not using when I could be using that money for important things like booze and women. Similarly I always turn off the tap rather than running it, but that's because I grew up in a house with a water meter and I learned to do so when I was very young. I do this stuff not because of the Ice Caps, but just because I'm frugal and waste costs money - I'd rather have my money in my pocket than someone elses. So, for once, I'm not going to draw any conclusions. I'm not going to say 'Here's what I think and here's what to do about it'*, because I just don't know. Instead I'm going to throw open the floor and ask you lot what you think. Are you left similarly confused by the polarity of debate on whether people are changing the climate? Are people responsible for a changing climate, or is it sunspot activity? Or what? *Despite that fact that whenever I do so on here I've had a 100% record of being right. Like that time in Feb 2005 when I predicted an economic crash and I got piled on by people telling me how wrong I was and how Gordon Brown was an econonic genius who'd ended boom and bust. Ha! Egg on your faces now, bozos. (27 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 19th, 2010
10:09 am	Well, I suppose it gets them reading... I expect the people on my FL who like books will spontaneously combust at this one. Shamelessly nicked from raggedy_man (13 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 15th, 2010
9:32 am	But they scrub up well. Cavemen have been in the news this week, with archaeologists discovering that primitive Neanderthals were experimenting with makeup thousands of years ago – something the rest of us worked out from watching Celebrity Big Brother. Researchers from Bristol University have discovered sea shells filled with brightly coloured pigments which they claim are primitive cosmetics, and nearby they also found evidence of an early advertising industry - including slates with expenses claims chiselled onto them, and the body of a caveman with a stupid little goatee and thick rimmed glasses made out of twigs. Voiceover: Og cosmetics of Stonehenge present New Formula Mud! Cavewoman: Mud? Voiceover: Scientifically proven to conceal over 90% of unsightly blemishes, wrinkles and scars from battle with sabre-toothed tigers, New Formula Mud is an exciting combination of carefully selected soil and water – made with you in mind. Cavewoman: Mud! Voiceover: With New Formula Mud, he’ll be dragging you by the hair into his cave in no time. Mud! Cavewoman: Because Me worth it. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 14th, 2010
10:09 am	The real cause of climate change "Every thousand years, I test each life system in the Universe. I visit it with mysteries, earthquakes, unpredicted eclipses, strange craters in the wilderness... If these are taken as natural, I judge that system ignorant and harmless - I spare it. But if the Hand of Ming is recognized in these events, I judge that system dangerous to us. But these earthlings... they predict a barbeque summer, I give them storms and flooding. They predict a mild winter, I give them freezing snow. I tell you what, Klytus, I'm going throw some of the old hot hail and rains of frogs at them next. If they blame climate change for that too, I'll agree they're no threat to us." (8 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
9:26 am	No invasion of privacy. Reported this week is the news that the UK is to follow Holland’s lead and install full-body scanners at airports, despite concerns by many at the thought of complete strangers being able to see through their clothes. Gordon Brown denied there is any threat to personal privacy and said no photos of people in the nude would be kept. In other news, John Prescott has applied for a security job at Gatwick, and the government has announced a new fundraising initiative will be a series of state-owned erotic magazines, which would include Heathrow Honeys, Bodyscan Beauties, and Playterrorist. (15 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 11th, 2010
12:15 pm	Time well spent Quake in terror before the Snow Beelzebub! Thinking about it, I should have built a Snow Boris instead. Next time, eh? (20 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 8th, 2010
10:23 am	Oh no, not again. Surfing for something entirely unrelated the other day, I happened across the obitiuary of Tsutomu Yamaguchi who died earlier this week at the age of 93. If you haven't heard of him, I shouldn't worry about it - I hadn't either until I randomly encountered his name, but as I read his story I found myself thinking that his story was one I should know because Mr. Yamaguchi was a remarkable man. It's difficult to know how to describe him; depending upon your point of view you could think that he was the one of the luckiest men in the world - or the unluckiest. There's certainly a strong argument for Mr Yamaguchi being the toughest man in the world, because he held a unique distinction. According to the Japanese government, Tsutomu Yamaguchi was the only person officially recognised as having survived not one but two atom bombs being dropped on him. I suspect this is an acheivement he'd've preferred not to have held. In 1945 the 21-year-old Tsutomu Yamaguchi worked for the Mitsubishi Corporation, and on the 6th of August he was getting off a tram in Hiroshima for a meeting when Little Boy detonated over the city. He suffered severe burns to his upper body, temporary blindness and a ruptured eardrum. He spent the night in an air-raid shelter and then, reasoning that he would be both happier and safer in his own house than in the devastated ruins of the city, he caught the train back to his home city of Nagasaki where he recieved medical attention. At this point I could make a pithy comment about people who think that a couple of inches of snow is a fair excuse to take a day or two off work, because, despite his injuries and the fact he'd had a thermonuclear device dropped on him not seventy-two hours earlier, on the 9th of August he displayed the stoical work ethic for which Japan is famous and went to the office - where at 11am he was explaining to his boss what had happened to him in Hiroshima when an all-too-familiar flash went off outside the window as Fat Man exploded about half a mile overhead. I like to think that he pointed out of the window and said "See? It was just like that", but that's because it's human nature to make light of appalling situations so we don't have to really think about what they mean. Instead, what he actually thought was one of the most despairing comments I've ever read - "I thought for a moment the cloud had followed me from Hiroshima". For much of his life he was quiet about his experience, but in his eighties he became a vocal proponent of complete nuclear disarmament and addressed the United Nations in 2006, where one suspects most nations just looked shifty and stared at their feet. His nickname was 'Lucky'. I'm not surprised. (10 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 7th, 2010
10:34 am	Sofa sale now on - huge discounts. The thing about not owning a television is that I tend to miss the minutae of cultural phenomena. Whilst I can keep up with the shifting sands of who is famous this week through the celeb pages in the newspaper and Holy Moly, it's the little things - the indicators of what is really going on in society - which pass me by. The sort of things which Ozymandias is looking for when he's watching his television wall. So naturally, I spent a lot of time over Christmas watching telly (Or at least, that's my excuse. Cultural awareness training. Mmm-hmm.) and the thing which struck me most strongly was just how crap most telly is*. The next thing was that there seemed to be four major themes in the adverts: 1) Quit smoking now! 2) Lose weight and/or join a gym! 3) Sofa sale now on! 4) Pay of your debts with a loan.** From this I can only assume that there's a sizable demographic for whom Christmas involved slumping down on the sofa for a fag, breaking it due to being so fat, and then having to go into debt to buy a new one. Does that match your experience? *Note to Dr. Who fans. It was rubbish. Get over it. **As a statement, "Pay off your debts with a loan" makes as much sense as "Fight for peace", "Eat yourself thin" and "Invest in public services". (10 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 6th, 2010
9:45 am	Deep and crisp and even But enough about my lovemaking technique - what about the snow? When the weather forecast promises me that over a foot of gleaming white snow will fall on my house overnight, there are few things more disappointing than waking up to find a meagre sprinkling of the stuff and having to come in to work after all. Bah. (22 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 4th, 2010
10:09 am	New year resolutions. As usual at this time of year we think about the ways we can act better in the coming twelve months - be fitter, or nicer, or cleverer, or whatever. My normal resolutions are the same as Dogberts: 1) To show no tolerance to those less fortunate them myself. 2) To redefine morality to suit my own short-term objectives. 3) To conquer the earth and make humanity my slaves. However, thinking about it none of those actually involve me changing the way I act in any way whatsoever and I think I need to do something different for 2010. Anyway, at the start of this year as an intellectual exercise I decided to keep a note of all the books I read. In the event I probably missed a few, but the list I've got looks like this (in no particular order): ( 2009 Reading ) Now the thing which strikes me most about that list is just how darned short it is. Yes, some of the books are long, but even so it's only about one book a week. The last time I did an exercise like this (back in 2001) I'd cranked my way through nearly a hundred in that year, and back in Ye Goode Olde Dayes (i.e. before I got a computer and devoted my life to the wholesale slaughter of pixellated ne'er-do-wells) I used to get through a couple of hundred books a year. Clearly then, there's room for improvement here. So that's my new year resolution for 2010: Read more. At least 2 books a week on average for the year. What's your new year resolution? And, while you're about it, you might recommend me a book or two? (45 Comments |Comment on this)