Reptile

I notice the James Randi page this week expresses "regret" that tickets for the London event sold out in under 48 hours, and that they were turning people away at the door. It then goes on to say that it was a capacity crowd of 475. Not exactly surprising that it sold out so fast then is it?! In a city of 13 million people, they booked a hall for 475! What were they thinking? I feel let down by a hero. On the plus side, Randi is in talks about a British tv show, so I guess there is some chance that he'll lecture again here in the not too distant future. I wonder which broom cupboard they'll book him into next time. I'm so glad I didn't travel into town and try to blag my way in at the door.

The story of a man who kept his daughter imprisoned in a cellar for 24 years in Austria is making headlines today. Apparently the woman was 19 when her father drugged her and locked her in the cellar. Since then he's fathered 7 children by her, one of which died. Three of the children were brought up by the father and his wife in the family home above the cellar. The remaining three were kept locked in the cellar and did not see the light of day until their rescue at the weekend.

The suggestion is that no one apart from the father, including his wife, and the three children he adopted, knew about the people in the cellar. I find it hard to believe that a family can live above a cellar for 24 years and not realise people were being kept prisoner there. The guy apparently told everyone that his daughter had run off to join a religious sect and rarely contacted him. He explained away the three children he adopted by claiming that his "runaway daughter" had left them on his doorstep. This all came to light when one of the children in the cellar became seriously ill and the hospital wanted to contact the mother. I wonder how long before someone tries to make a film out of it.

Tony Blair's ex chief fund-raiser, Lord Levy, has dropped both Blair and Brown right in the smeg with a single comment. Now I don't like Levy. No one does. The guy is a reptile. And we have good reason to hate him. He's the man that gave us Alvin Stardust. However, you can't deny that the man is smart. I am therefore quite convinced that telling the world that Blair thought Brown couldn't win an election against Cameron, was no accident. In fact I read a report this morning that went slightly further, suggesting that Levy said Blair considered Brown a liar. The comments come as Levy attempts to raise awareness of the imminent publication of his memoirs. Blair has said Levy is wrong. Brown has said he doesn't care what Levy said. The comments have damaged both men however.

So the long and the short is that Levy, the reptile that many people thought should have been slung in jail after the cash for honours debacle, is quite prepared to dump his old boss and "friend" Tony Blair in it for the sake of book sales. More than that, he is prepared to trash the reputation of his own party leader and his party's chances at the next election in the process. In fairness to Levy, Blair would surely have done precisely the same thing had the roles been reversed. Picks his moments though doesn't he. Local elections are going ahead on Thursday, and the London Mayoral election, and the Labour party is already flagging badly in the polls.

My boss just gave me a new laptop. That's good isn't it. I need to get it formatted and set up, but I can work at home much more easily now. Or I can work in Devon. Maybe I should install wireless at home. I can type my novel on the train now.

Working From Home

I'm working from home. Actually that's bollocks isn't it. I'm in fact writing my diary at home. I have done some work though. I even sent some emails so people know I'm working.

I had to work from home today because my dentist had to remove a filling and explore the joys beneath. I've been experiencing some sensitivity. I went early this morning and now my mouth feels like someone else's. He said my tooth has a crack beneath the filling. He's repaired it but it may require root canal work at some point in the future. That'll be fun won't it.

I have a story to tell you about people who steal penises. I'll write it up Monday, but I don't have time now. Thanks to Dickie for the heads up on that one.

There was something else to say too, but I can't remember what. Oh I'm horrible. Whatever, I'll speak to you on Monday.

Oh wait, I just remembered the other thing I have to tell you. I came home from work yesterday and my family met me at the station. We passed two scum bags smoking pot in the ten minute walk home. I'm going to write to my MP again.

Mercury Drinkers

There is a story on several news sites today about a Brazillian priest, Father Adelir de Carli, who has gone missing. Evidently he strapped himself to 1,000 helium filled party balloons, and was last seen drifting off into the lower atmosphere off the coast of Brazil. My first thought was, perhaps predictably, "what a knob head, people like this deserve to die". I still feel that way. Anyone stupid enough to do anything that dangerous deserves no sympathy when probability and the laws of physics do what they have to do. This story is interesting to me on other levels however.

Father de Carli was apparently attempting to break the world balloon flying record, which seems to stand at 19 hours. He was raising money to provide a rest stop for truckers!? It begs the question, was he more interested in the thrill of the stunt and the notoriety it could bring him, or the truck stop? Incidentally, I cannot see the point of breaking records. All you have to do is find something no one has done, and then do it. You want your name in the Guinness book, go for the new earlobe holding record.

Rescue teams have of course been out looking for this nutter (at public expense no doubt) since contact was lost. They have found his balloons, but not him or his buoyant chair. He apparently has food and water for five days, a satellite phone that doesn't appear to work, and a GPS which he reported he was having problems with before he went silent. You'd think he'd have tested these things before take-off surely. He almost certainly came down several miles out to sea. My guess is he's dead.

Several reports have inevitably brought up the subject of the Darwin awards. If this clown has managed to kill himself, I'm not sure he qualifies. Firstly, although one must be childless to qualify for the award, as a priest, he'd be celibate. It wouldn't be his lack of evolutionary advancement that hastened his death before producing offspring, it would be his faith. Then I thought, well maybe his faith is a result of his lack of evolutionary advancement and he should qualify anyway.

Then I thought of something that Arthur C. Clarke once told me. OK, that's not true, I can't lie to you. I thought of something that Arthur C. Clarke once said to someone more important than me, "It has yet to be proven that intelligence has any survival value." If intelligence really has no survival value, it means that Darwinian selection was not responsible for it. In turn, that means the Darwin awards are awarded erroneously.

If Arthur C. was right, and intelligence has no survival value, and it wasn't a result of natural selection, that would give the creationists a point to argue with. I've never heard that argument from a creationist though. If intelligence isn't the result of evolution, what the hell caused it, a massive stroke of luck? That would make intelligent life very rare indeed. I think it's more likely that intelligence is a result of evolution myself.

Without drifting too far from this topic, it seems a "tame" grizzly bear has killed it's owner in California. The bear, called Rocky, apparently starred in a recent film with Will Ferrell. Why the hell does anyone play with bears? It's not like the information isn't out there. People who play with bears nearly always wind up dead. It's a simple rule, if you see a bear, run the other way. The bear understands this rule. And why is it always men that play with bears? You don't hear about women living in log cabins on mountains, trying to befriend bears. Although, come to think of it, it's always women who try to tame gorillas. Think Jayne Goddal and Dian Fossey, classic examples of women trying to anthropomorphise wild animals.

No good can come from this, you mark my words.

Paradox

Last night I think I dreamt that I couldn't sleep. I don't know if it was a dream though. I dream so rarely, I can't be sure. I'm a walking paradox. I'm back at work. Things still ache, but I'm off the critical list.

I'm interested in the note I got from Yah. He says home electrical installations are covered if you get a permit for each job. Well, in California that may be the case. I assume that you are in California because that's what the location tag says. In Britain the regulations are complex. I can't claim that I am familiar with them, but I know you can't get a permit to do the work. I think anyone can do the work, but some things are supposed to be inspected by a qualified person after installation. However, I've owned 2 houses in Britain, and rented a further two, and I have never seen a certificate for any electrical work as far as I remember. I know my father has done electrical work and sold the house afterwards with no inspection.

It's odd isn't it; if you sell a car, it can be in any condition. It doesn't have to have passed an MOT test, it could have bald tyres, the lights don't have to work. You can sell a complete death trap quite legally. It's up to the buyer to uncover any problems, and if he does find a problem after he's bought it, the seller isn't responsible. Why is a house different? We have these compulsory HIP things now. It's another piece of bureaucracy dreamt up by this government to make selling a house more expensive. I think it is supposed to certificate the house for safety purposes. It seems pointless getting work certified if it has to be re-certified when you sell the place anyway.

Talking of the government, they seem to be in all sorts of trouble this week. The abolition of the 10p tax rate, which I admit was a complication, has caused all sorts of problems because it's essentially raised the tax bill for low earners. There is a rebellion forming in the Labour party on the issue. Gordon is really losing control of the ranks. Alastair Darling has ruled out reversing the decision to scrap the 10p rate, but keeps hinting at replacing it with something else. If he just said what that something else was, then perhaps the rebels would back down. As someone who desperately wants to see the Labour party ousted from power, I see the whole episode as a great spectator sport.

The election for the London Mayor takes place on 1st May. It would seem that Mad Boris and Red Ken are neck and neck. The BBC reported this morning that the two men were actually quite friendly with each other and it was odd to see them biting chunks out of each other on the stage, and then laughing together like old mates in the wings. I think they are both pretty genuine people actually. Ken is old school socialist and would never get my vote, Boris is hardcore Tory, and probably would.

My God I'm tired.

I must remember to get a new inner tube for Dumpy's pushchair tonight. I pumped up the tyres yesterday and one of them went down straight away. Poor Dumpy has to walk. He went swimming yesterday and apparently had a wonderful time. He went with his friend johnny. In fact, I'm going to buy two inner tubes, hang the expense.

Doh!

I've taken a day off work because I feel grotty. Well, it's 3pm now, and I'm feeling better now, but I felt pretty rough all weekend. I'll just have to deal with the guilt of taking a sick day tomorrow. I've been aching all over, especially my neck and head. I've also had a fever. It's like flu without the snot. Anyway, I'm going to work tomorrow.

This weekend was put aside to complete the kitchen, and it was done. It's been nearly finished for weeks, but there have been silly little things that I just haven't got around to. So, I've done them. I put the little door on the cupboard under the oven. I attached the cornice to the top of the wall cabinets, and the coving to the bottom of them. I attached a baton under the cabinets to add some extra weight bearing facility, and I blocked in the extractor pipe outlet. All finished by Sunday morning.

Actually I would have finished on Saturday night had I not drilled through a cable and put out half the power in the house - doh! I can't believe I was that stupid. We ended up going out for dinner at Connie's because we had no power sockets in the kitchen and the place was a mess because I was unable to finish until I mended the power cable, and by then it was getting late anyway.

The only real problems were the fact that there was no heating that night, and Dumpy's night light wouldn't work because I killed all the power sockets in his room. Most other things outside the kitchen were still working, except the computer, I killed the sockets in there too. The hardware shop opened at 10 the following morning however. I nipped in, got myself a junction box, and all was back to normal again by 10.30.

I have no idea whether I am allowed to do home electrics, not being a qualified electrician. I'm working on the principle that no one can prove I did it. In this house I have also put in the electric shower, the cooker, and replaced the fuse box. I also plumbed in the kitchen sink, the washing machine, and the gas cooker. Some of that must be illegal.

We got around to watching Atonement yesterday afternoon. I quite enjoyed it, but the time line jumps about so much, it gets quite difficult to follow. And why was Keira Knightly not wearing underwear when she jumped in the fountain?

John Prescott has released his memoirs and revealed that he suffered from bulimia. My brother thought this was so hysterical that he called me to tell me about it. He's not really the sympathetic type my brother. It is slightly amusing however that someone so apparently well-fed, could have an eating disorder.

And I just want to make a comment about a new police initiative to crack down on dangerous driving. Have a look at this footage. There are six clips of people "driving dangerously". Only two of the clips actually appear to result in an accident, and in both cases the accident appears to have happened because the drivers have seen the police camera, panicked, and jumped on the brakes. Can we learn anything from this?

There's a house of ill repute in my street!

I've been reading the local paper. Apparently there has been a brothel operating in our street, not 100m from our front door. Can you believe that? Why didn't anyone tell me? I'd have been out there with the old binoculars. Doesn't matter now, it's been raided and closed down. I'm going to walk that way home and have a butchers though. I haven't noticed any ladies of easy virtue walking the streets. We can do without that and the mayhem they bring with them.

There seems to be a lot of fuss about the repeal of the fraudulent mediums act that is due to happen this month. It looks very much like the act will vanish and that people claiming they can contact your dead relatives (for a price) are going to be treated in the same way as any other trader that offers a service or product for a price. That is to say, if you claim you can do it and you take my money, you may end up in court trying to prove you actually gave me what I paid for.

The mediums and mystics are running scared and intend to deliver a petition to Downing Street. They claim that recognised religions are not required to prove anything, so why should the spiritualist movement? I can amswer that question. Think of it like this; if your local minister stood up in front of his congregation and promised to show you a miracle for £10, he would be required to put-up or shut-up, the same as any other trader.

But churches don't promise miracles in exchange for money. Derek Acorah does, and he's been caught cheating so many times it's getting embarrassing. That Kreed Kafer incident was excruciating. Colin Fry, the one with the magic trumpet, offers miracles in exchange for money. And if you don't know about the magic trumpet, it was a rather embarrassing incident at a seance Colin was performing many years ago. A glowing trumpet was flying round a darkened room all by itself, until someone turned the light on and Colin was seen standing in the middle of the room, holding the thing in his hand. That was down to a "mischievous spirit" apparently. He changed his name after that. He used to be called Lincoln.

Sylvia Browne, the convicted fraud, offers miracles in exchange for money. She's the one that told Shaun Hornbeck's parents he was dead. Then he showed up, looking very alive indeed. In fact she makes mistakes like that on a regular basis, but people still pay her because she says she can perform miracles.

And that's what irritates me about the psychics, is not so much that they are peddling a service and then not delivering, it's the fact that they take advantage of the most desperate and vulnerable people, people who have just lost loved ones and would give anything to contact them again.

The sad truth is, we don't live in a world where wishes come true. We live in a world where chance and chaos dictate the outcomes. Anyone who says different needs to grow up.

Foul Behaviour

My headache feels better today. I think I was just tired. I slept well. I'm still tired though. Must be the pressure.

I've almost made up my mind to buy a pic programmer and build some of the pic projects from EPE Magazine. It's a little bit expensive, but it's not like we're poor, and it's better then watching tv.

I hear on the grapevine that tonight James Randi will be in a pub in WC2 from 6.30. I had half a mind to go up there after work and investigate, but I don't know that my informant is genuine, and I don't feel confident crashing a private meeting anyway. I still want to know who my informant is and what he actually knows. I'm still hoping to get tickets for his Saturday evening show.

The Olympic torch continues its journey round the world. Today it is scheduled to pass through Delhi. Thousands of police and "commandos"!? have been drafted in to ensure embarrassment is kept to a minimum. And Delhi has been "locked down". You'd think Beijing would be getting the message by now wouldn't you. I think Delhi is expecting particular problems because a lot of escaped Tibetans live there. Fire blankets and extinguishers have been supplied to put out people setting fire to themselves.

I picked up a leaflet from Sainsbury supermarket yesterday that promised to explain where their range of eggs are sourced. The supermarkets provide a bewildering array of eggs. The cheapest seem to come from caged chickens, but progressively more expensive eggs come from barn reared chickens, free range chickens, and woodland chickens. Organic woodland reared chicken eggs, and organic free range chicken eggs are also available. I learned all this from the leaflet.

Why am I reading this tripe? God knows, it's not like I care where my eggs come from, but stick with me, there is a comedy element to this. The leaflet goes on to explain what the advantages of each chicken rearing technique. Obviously caged chickens don't get to run around and play with the other chickens, barn chickens don't get to run barefoot across dew-kissed grass like the free range chickens. All seems pretty straight forward. But what is the advantage of woodland reared and free range chickens? Well, apparently free range chickens get to satisfy their natural foraging instinct. OK, I can believe that, foraging for worms and stuff, sounds very chicken to me. But Woodland chickens, they're very lucky because they get to exhibit their natural "jungle fowl behaviour".

No, seriously, Woodland reared chickens exhibit "jungle foul behaviour", Look!

I Googled it, but I still can't find out what "jungle fowl behaviour" is. Where do chickens come from? I thought they were indigenous.

Now, as if that isn't enough, I was reading this to the dragon and she didn't know the word "fowl". So she asked, "what foul behaviour is this then?"

I also liked the story of the Australian police who left a handcuffed man in the back of their car while they went to look for evidence of a burglary, and came back to find that he'd made off in their car. The car was recovered, the suspect is still at large apparently.

Working in my pyjamas

I have a headache. And my neck is stiff. I think the two are connected. I mean, I know my head is connected to my neck. I'm suggesting that the headache is connected to the stiff neck, obviously.

The Sun has a big story on the front page this morning suggesting that Pete Doherty is using heroin in prison. And there is a massive front page picture of Doherty in his cell. Where the hell do they get pictures of people in prison, and how the hell do they know he is using drugs? It's clearly either down to the ingenuity of Sun reporters, or a sign that Wormwood Scrubs security is in urgent need of review.

I don't want anyone to think that I read the Sun by the way. I have never, and will never, buy that ghastly paper. I do read the headlines on the news stand at the station most mornings, and I do read the Sun web page, because they always show the uncensored pictures of celebrities with bosoms falling out, flashing underwear etc. As opposed to the Telegraph or the Guardian, which are much better papers, but invariably consider this type of picture to be unsuitable for their target audience. I must be some kind of hybrid.

David Walliams has written a children's book about a boy who likes to wear dresses. I don't know what to think really. It's illustrated by Quentin Blake. I'd like to see the pictures. I'm not sure children should be allowed to cross lines drawn by society until they are in possession of all the facts.

My manager says I can swap my computer for a laptop - hooray, Working from home in my pyjamas.

I have a tooth problem. I have to go to the dentist next week. Apparently he's going to remove a "substantial existing filling" to see what's under it. I'm hoping he's going to suggest a gold crown. That would be cool wouldn't it. I have dental cover. I'm not scared. Maybe the tooth problem is why my head aches.

Did you see "Chinese School" on BBC4 last night? That Chairman Mao eh - what a bastard! He closed all the schools in China for three years in an effort to end the elite class education system. Even when the schools reopened they weren't allowed to use exams to test the children. Still the children are taught to worship the memory of the man and pledge allegiance to the communist party from the age of about six.

Addictions

There was an interesting programme on tv last night about addictions. I didn't see all of it because I was doing other things, but the premise of the programme was really the question of whether behavioural addictions (sex, video games, porn) were really addictions in the same way as the established physical addictions (cocaine, booze, tobacco). I've always been of the opinion that things like sex addiction were invented by Americans (sorry, nothing personal) to avoid responsibility.

I thought the most interesting comment came from a reformed gambler, now working as a therapist or something, to help people with their addictions. He said that something becomes an addiction when you carry on doing it despite recognising the negative consequences. I think that's a perfect definition. Here's my take on it; let's say that sex addiction is a real, medical (mental?) condition, akin to a physical addiction. The negative consequence of sex addiction might be that your wife says she's going to leave you because you can't keep it in your trousers. So, let's imagine you tell your wife, "I can't help it, I'm a sex addict". And let's imagine your wife says, "OK, I won't leave you then". The negative impact disappears in a puff of smoke. How do you know it's an addiction? Maybe you would have kept your trousers on if your wife had given you the standard ultimatum.

Or, let's imagine your wife tells you, "I don't care if you're an addict or not, keep it zipped up or I'm kicking you out". That would be what my wife would say incidentally. There are two ways to go. You either keep it zipped up and all is well, it wasn't an addiction after all. Or you don't keep it zipped up and the wife kicks you out. You could still call it an addiction in this case, but you have nothing to lose after you've been kicked out, so you're likely to carry on with the behaviour anyway because oddly, once again, the negative impact has been removed (she can't kick you out again).

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. You could say the same things about a cocaine habit I suppose. OK, more thought required.

They found the body of the tv presenter, Mark Speight yesterday. He'd hung himself at Paddington Station. That was a sad case indeed. He got bombed out on drugs with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago. When he woke up he found that she'd passed-out, fallen into a bath of scalding water, and died. He was arrested, but released without charge. Then he disappeared. Seems he found a quiet ceiling void in which to end it all. Why the hell he chose Paddington Station is a mystery to me. They say he'd been there 6 days before anyone found him. How bad do you have to feel to get to that stage? He was 42.

It's amazing to think that one minute he had everything going for him. He was rich, talented, popular. Then suddenly something happened to change his whole world, and he winds up hanging from the rafters at Paddington Station.

Heathrow Terminal 5 is seldom far from the headlines these days. Today it was announced that 2 senior executives will be leaving BA as a result of the T5 disasters. Did they jump, or were they pushed? No one is saying. It's hard to believe anyone is still flying BA. I wouldn't fly with them if they were the last airline on earth. I reckon they were doing Naomi Campbell a favour when they banned her.

Oh well, must go, Chinese dumplings for dinner!

Wicked

Dumpy was so tired this morning. When I went in to get him up at 7.00, he was still fast asleep. Usually he's awake and ready to count the stairs down to breakfast. So, rather than wake him up, I left him there and the Dragon and I had a quiet breakfast on our own. It felt odd eating without him. I went up to say goodbye to him before I left for work at 7.30 and he was just stirring. Oh it's good being a Daddy.

Here he is out walking with his bag. The Dragon always said she'd make him carry his own nappies as soon as he was old enough. Wicked Mummy!



A strange thing has happened. I mentioned on this page last week that I can't get tickets to see Randi at Conway hall on 19th April, and Peter Phisher, whoever he is, informs me that Randi will be at a pub on the evening of 17th. He didn't tell me which pub, but I did some research and it does appear that there may be some truth in it. I don't know how confident I would be about barging into a pub where the great man is socialising with friends, and introducing myself though. I wanted tickets to his evening at Conway Hall, and I still do. I'm still hoping they may become available.

We spent the weekend in Devon. The weather was intermittently foul and then quite pleasant. There was hail the size of golf balls in Swindon yesterday evening. Spring is however on the way I'm sure. The temperature has gone up, and the sun is definitely trying to shine. The magnolia is looking pretty sorry for itself.

I want to learn about PIC micro controllers. I can't find any decent literature on the subject.

I really like this game.

Why is it all so complicated?

I just found out that James Randi is speaking in London on 19th April. The news went out on 8th April. I read about it this morning (11th April) and it's sold out. I almost cried. I knew he was going to be in Britain this month; why wasn't I checking his website for details? I'm on the mailing list for returns.

I think I agree with the Punk. I lost interest in the Olympics long ago. Actually, I'm not sure I ever had any interest in the first place. Well, I did enjoy watching Florence Griffith-Joyner, though probably not for sporting reasons. But now she's dead and it turned out she was only that fast because she was using dodgy substances anyway. It's not sport any more is it. However, that doesn't stop me from laughing my rocks off when I see Beijing trying so hard to make the torch relay spectacular, only to pee on their own collective feet.

Bloody Carla Bruni, that's the French president's concubine, in case you've been living on Mars for the last couple of months, has managed to make it into the headlines once more. This time she's managed to do so naked. A nude picture taken when she was a working model has just been sold for $91,000. This seems doubly odd to me. I can understand people, well men really, wanting to look at the woman naked. What I can't understand is why it's news-worthy, and secondly, why the hell anyone would pay that kind of money for the photo. It appeared in the tabloids last week and again today. It's all over the internet. I could print a copy for the price of a cup of coffee.

I can't believe I missed out on James Randi in London. That's about 50 minutes from home. He's practically on my doorstep. He's number one on my list of poeple I completely have to meet before I die.

The British Airways, Terminal 5 debacle continues to rumble on. They were supposed to be transferring their long haul flights to T5 this week, but it's been postponed due to on-going chaos. That of course means their is a knock-on effect because other airlines were going to take BA slots left vacant at Terminal 4 after the transfer. Is BA taking responsibility for this balls-up? I mean tens of thousands of lost bags, cancelled flights, people stranded, wrecked holidays, UK looking like an island of complete tossers who couldn't organise a drinks party in a brewery; who's paying for it? I'm not just talking about money. Is someone's head on the block? It should be. Shares must have dropped through the floor. Shareholders should be shouting for blood.

I want to go to W H Smiths tonight and get the March edition of Everyday Practical Electronics magazine. It's the only place I know that stocks it and they shut at 5.30. Why does everything shut the moment I leave the office? It makes me so mad. I'll probably have to rush out tomorrow morning and get it before we drive to Devon.

I forgot to mention that I got another parking ticket. They must be doing a blitz in my street or something. I just left it outside the house for a few moments. What the hell am I supposed to do? I have a 2-year-old and about a tonne of groceries to unload. I've contested it anyway. I think I have a case. The ticket said it had been there 10 minutes and it hadn't. It also said my tax disk had expired, which is also untrue.

The 12 Stages of the Hero's Journey

I finished reading the Kite Runner. I must have mentioned that. I won't rehash it. I'm reading the Dummies Guide to Writing a Novel and Getting published now. Shouldn't that be "Dummy's Guide", or possibly "Dummies' Guide"? Oh, hang on. I'm looking at it now, it's, "Writing a Novel and Getting Published for Dummies". I'll go with that. Whatever, it's actually really good. I have read thousands of these get-published-quick guides, and they have been universally crap. Maybe I just can't write for toffee. This one appears to make sense anyway.

It all comes down to the 12 stages of your hero's journey you know. That and the seven basic stories. Just seven basic plot lines cover just about every novel ever written! Who'd have thought it eh? Of course, some stories fall in to multiple categories. Lord of the Rings seems to fall into just about every category. I need to carry a notebook and pencil around with me. That's what writers do apparently.

***

Gordon Brown has said he's not going to attend the Olympic opening ceremony. I think that's unusually decisive. Generally the man buggers about for weeks before making a decision, and then invariably looks a prat. The US leg of the torch relay was a complete farce yesterday. They changed the route at the eleventh hour to avoid the protests, and the billions of people who had assembled to see the spectacle were left wondering what the hell happened. Australia has said that the Chinese thugs won't be allowed to escort the flame in Australia.

***

House prices are crashing and the Bank of England has lowered interest rates again to 5%

***

It's my brother's birthday today. Happy Birthday to him.

***

And absolutely nothing else interesting happened today.

Global warming, my dimpled arse!

Snow in the middle of April - Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? There was a solid two inches in our garden yesterday morning. Why is snow always measured in inches? Whatever, it has no business snowing at this time of year. Global warming, my dimpled arse! Dumpy the Dwarf looked out of the window and rushed to tell his mummy that the garden was full of bubbles. It looked like his bath you see. He spent some happy time after breakfast kicking the snow about and screaming with glee.

We went to lunch with friends in Reading on Saturday at Sweeney and Todd's pie shop. The Philosophy Punk appears to require more information about the establishment. It is, I believe, something of an institution amongst the student set in Reading. They serve a wide range of meat and vegetable pies, baked on the premises. I can confirm that they are very good. I had a lamb and mint pie myself. The Dragon went for a chicken and mustard pie which she shared with Dumpy. He wasn't keen, but I suspect that may have been because there were other children to play with and things going on. It was a fine lunch anyway.

Old Uni chum Ogle is off to start a new life in Canada this month, and it was his leaving bash. He's an odd sort of chap, but we do love him, as we love all our old uni chums.

They closed the motorway which affected our journey home. Somehow a lorry managed to turn over and the police closed all the westbound slip roads for hours. We saw the lorry as we travelled east around 11.30, and hoped that it would be gone by the time we returned around 3.30. It wasn't, so we stopped for coffee and planned a new route. By the time we finished coffee however, they had reopened the road and we got home the way we originally planned.

Yesterday I was planning to finish the few remaining kitchen jobs. Unfortunately the snow and a few other things meant that I didn't start as early as planned. I haven't actually done anything to the kitchen for months. I got to the point where it became functional, and stopped. However. I still need to put some coving up over the wall units, block in the extractor pipe, and add a baton underneath the wall units. Then I can get someone round to tile the place. Yesterday I repositioned the cooker, added a little cupboard door to the void beneath it, and bolted the end of the working surface finally into place. It's been held up with a makeshift piece of timber resting on the washing machine for some weeks.

Next week I think we will plan a trip to Devon and I will see if I can borrow my father's old circular saw and tenon saw set to finish the job off the following week.

I finished the Kite Runner. I recognise the quality, but I can't say I really liked it. It's just not my type of thing. There was a twist at the end that drew me closer to the central character, but I never really identified with him. I'll give it a solid 8/10 for style and quality. I have to mark it down for content.

Wasn't the Olympic torch parade through London a complete debacle? I sympathise with the Tibet protesters, and personally I'd love to see some pro Taiwan independence protesters as well. The British government will be quick to stamp out anti China protests of course, because they don't want to give China a reason to boycott the 2012 games in London. The torch moves to France next I think. I half hope that the French do an equally good job of drawing attention to the Tibet situation. The French are good at protesting.

Pie Shop

You know something I can't understand; I'll tell you. I can't understand the fuss about this pregnant "man". Seriously, why is everyone so amazed? I don't mean to be rude, or intolerant. It's a matter of biology. This person has a female reproductive system. It's not really that surprising that he's pregnant. Honestly, there are people blowing each other to pieces in Afghanistan and Iraq. Robert Mugabe is about to lose control of Zimbabwe after 28 years. China is committing outrageous human rights atrocities in Tibet, and people are getting excited about a pregnant woman who wears trousers.

Naomi Campbell, fabulous looking but not much between the ears it seems, managed to get herself arrested yesterday after a fight with police over a missing bag at Heathrow Terminal 5. Bearing in mind that the last estimate I saw put the number of bags missing from T5 at 28,000, it seems pretty pointless to make a fuss about a specific item, but like I said, not much between the ears. I also read yesterday that a DJ has lost a laptop with the only copy of his new album on it. Two questions here; why are you checking a laptop in when it has that kind of value, and why the hell didn't you back it up?

I'm planning on a trip to Reading tomorrow to see some old Uni chums for lunch. We're all going to have lunch at Sweeney and Todds Pie shop. At least, that's the plan. More news as we get it.

Don't give a toss

Today Dumpy counted from 1 to 12. I think that's pretty cool for the little man. He's only just hit 2. I always get him up in the morning and bring him downstairs for breakfast. Every morning we count the stairs. Today he just did it by himself. I didn't lead him at all. Am I becoming one of those boring parents that thinks their child is going to be the next Einstein. Ah whatever, today we count the stairs, tomorrow we gain recognition as a world changing theoretical physicist.

Bob Mugabe looks like he's in very deep smeg indeed. He says he's ready to fight in a run off election for the presidency, but he's already lost control of parliament and the opposition parties have said if there is a run off they will join together to see that he is ousted. He doesn't appear to have a hope of winning the election he did everything he could to rig, apparently.

There seems to be a massive row going on today about whether cannabis should be reclassified as a class B drug. It always used to be a class B drug. The problem has occurred because Tony Blair decreed that it wasn't a big problem and should be re classed as a class C drug. In fact, as is usual with that lying bastard, he had an ulterior motive. It was better for the government to label it class C because it meant they didn't have to spend time and money prosecuting users, only dealers. It made the crime figures look better and it was cheaper you see. Unfortunately there was a side effect. It meant that all the pot-heads suddenly felt quite comfortable smoking the foul stuff openly on the streets.

I can't walk across the local town centre these days with my two year old son without tripping over some bombed out tosser with a spliff. The PM has realised this is the case and has stated that he would like it returned to class B status. However, in a rather embarrassing turn of events, the government's own drug advisory council (or whatever the hell they call themselves) has said it should remain classed as a class C drug. They seem to have come to the conclusion based on evidence from some research done at Keele University.

So wait a second, can anyone else see a touch of irony creeping in here? A bunch of university students have some to the conclusion that cannabis is harmless! Hmm, right.

My view, for what it's worth...

I don't give a toss if you want to smoke the disgusting stuff. I don't give a toss if you turn yourself insane as a result, as long as I don't have to pick up your medical bill. The only thing I care about is whether I have to see it, or more accurately whether my son has to see it when we are in a public place. Oh, and I don't care whether it is class C or B either.

Bad Start

Bad start to the day. I'd walked half way to the station before I realised my fly was open. Then, when I sat down to read my book, I found it wasn't in my bag. I must have left it on the breakfast table, dammit. The book in question is The Kite Runner, as I'm sure I have mentioned here before. I'm about half way through it now. I'm finding it very difficult to like the central character. I'm sure one is supposed to feel sorry for him. But I just see him as pathetic and cowardly. He's eaten up with guilt, which is entirely self inflicted, and he's totally obsessed with himself. I like his father much more.

I'm going to start hobby electronics again. I got quite into it when I was a teenager. Somehow it got sidelined when I was at college. I'm bored with wasting my evenings in front of the internet or television. I could be inventing something useful like a teleporter or an anti gravity field generator. I need to get into PIC controllers.

There is a hysterical story all over the news today about Harriet Harman. Harriet is deputy Labour leader, party chairman, and leader of the commons. She's also in trouble over accepting dodgy donations during her deputy leadership campaign, but that's another story altogether. Today she is in the news because she went walkabout in her own South London constituency wearing a bullet proof vest yesterday. I can only conclude that either she thinks the streets are so dangerous that we all need kevlar body armour, or that she feels so unpopular that just she is likely to be shot or stabbed. Either awy, it wasn't a good PR move.

She is now frantically back-peddling and using a variety of extraordinary explanations for this disastrous move. She has said it was like wearing a white hairnet when visiting a meat factory, and that "It was just a courtesy, there was no security issue whatsoever, it was almost like wearing the kit when you go out with the team". Personally I like her comment about it being no different to wearing a hard hat on a building site. John Humphreys on the Today programme on Radio 4 helpfully pointed out that one wears a hard hat to protect one's head from falling objects and that one doesn't need a bullet proof vest on the streets of London unless one is worried about injury.

A number of papers are reporting on Nick Clegg's interview with some trashy boys mag, about the number of women he's bedded. I really thought this was an April Fool's joke. Surely the leader of the Liberal Democrat party can't be that crass can he? Well I can only assume that this is genuine because it appears in so many places. If it wasn't for the fact that Harriet managed to steal so many column inches this morning, I'd say Clegg would be hung out to dry. It's going to turn into another William Hague baseball cap if you ask me.

Talking of April Fool's jokes, the Sun is reporting a UFO sited off the Welsh Coast, the Telegraph has announced the discovery of a colony of flying penguins, and apparently the Guardian reported that Carla Bruni is being recruited as a style advisor by Gordon Brown. That damn woman is never out of our papers.