IWHistory (2)

I was in London from 1972-1976 in the hope of getting a Ph.D. from Imperial College. This was cocked up with the same efficiency as my first degree (although this time it was not entirely my fault). When we had nothing else to do on a Sunday, three or four of us used to go into college. We occasionally did a bit of work, but more often than not we'd sit around chatting and getting pissed very quickly indeed on a 50:50 mixture of BP ethanol (i.e. the stuff which still contains 5% water, rather than benzene) and orange cordial. One Sunday this made us all quite playful so we hit the screwdriver draw and swapped the signs on most of the doors of the Public Health Section of the Civil Engineering Department, including putting the IQ-challenged deputy head of the department in a small broom cupboard. (This was very easy because all the signs were identical, including the positions of the screw holes.) Next morning the same IQ-C deputy head wondered into our laboratory looking for our boss. He saw the wrong name on the boss's door, of course, and turned to leave, perhaps to search elsewhere, only to find our boss right behind him, having just arrived. "Do you know who decided on these office changes," he asked, "and how long we have to move all our stuff?" Oh how we larfed.
They never found out who did it, even though they only had to check the names of the few 'students' who had signed in on the Sunday morning. Perhaps they didn't try. Perhaps I didn't deseve a Ph.D.

The state of the nation (2)

Apparently our delightful children are using mobile 'phones to cheat in exams. Rather than telephoning each other they are, presumably, texting questions such as "whn dd clmbs sl t ocn blu". So do their mates have their 'phones sitting on their laps waiting for these cries of help (bit of a giveaway, I'd have thought) or do they just wait for a friendly vibration? Do kids nowadays really have the time to answer the exams and respond to mates' text messages? Are they free and easy with their responses or do they reply along the lines "swp yu amcn dcln indpnds fr ocn blu"? Maybe they are communicating with mates at home who have their books open. What about if the mate happens to be taking a physics exam at the time - "swp yu nwtn scnd lw fr ocn blu"?
According to a woman interviewed on the Today program this morning, kids are glued to their 'phones (huh - it's not just kids - ed.) but should be forced to hand them to teacher before the exam. Presumably some can't cope with the surgical removal necessary. Kids at our local comp. are banned from taking mobile 'phones into school but they take as much notice of this as the car drivers who continue to use theirs while on the move. Presumably the poor kids can no longer get through the day without telling someone "I'm in advanced dovetailing" or "I'm behind the bike shed". And how could they turn down an opportunity to record a video of the class epileptic having a fit?
One of these days I'll have a real rant about mobile 'phones. bt il wt ntl its lst xpctd

IWHistory (1)

From September 1972 until November 1976, or thereabouts, I shared a flat very close to Highbury and Islington underground station, London. It was the top floor of a Victorian House. We shared a bog, on the floor below, with an old lady, who had put a notice "No wads" on the door. Presumably she had previously suffered from folk who did not know how to use bathroom stationery. We did not have a bathroom either - we washed in the kitchen sink and had a bath in the kitchen covered with a piece of plywood. Despite these hardships we were happy to live there at a rent which started at £42.96 a month and had rocketed to £43.31 four years later. Originally there were just two of us in the flat. I don't quite know how we managed this massive rent but it was not long before others joined us. One chap spent 2-3 years there sleeping on the cushions from the sofas. Several other guys were happy to contribute a tenner a month to sleep on the carpet. For quite long periods during the four years I was there I was paying no more than £10 a month.
We had mice. They paid nothing. I moved in a few days before my primary flatmate and the previous occupants warned me about the vermin and suggested I store all food in the mouse-proof cupboards provided. I passed on this intelligence to PF when he moved in, but for some reason he was not inclined to believe me, and left his breakfast cereal (porridge, which I cannot eat) on the work surface. Some months later, when we were eating breakfast one Saturday, he enquired "What do you reckon these black bits are?" "Those are mouse turds," I responded. Gosh, he said, I've been eating them for months. After that he stored his porridge in the cupboards.
Every now and again we saw mice around the place - they occasionally got trapped in the bath.
The 'wads' lady had a piano. We never heard her playing it. After we had been there for two or three years she told us the anti-vermin police had discovered a mouse nest in her piano and had taken the instrument away, to be destroyed. Although his sounded a somewhat extreme measure to us, she did not seem particularly distressed. But we never saw any mice again. Amazing really.
Also on the floor below were three more old ladies sharing a flat. I believe they had their own toilet. One of them told us off for feeding the birds, because a pigeon had shat on her head just after she had been to the hairdresser.

The state of the nation (1)

The TV news often includes features on education, with interviews of teachers or cooks. To convince the viewer the TV crew really is at a school there are shots of lots of little legs running about. Just the legs. Quite often nowadays any complete child inadvertently straying into the picture is 'blurred out'. Presumably the TV companies are doing this 'to protect our children' from paedos. Perhaps they are complying with new government guidelines.
My two youngest daughters have helped out at after-school club of the local primary school. So they might do this police checks were necessary to ensure they weren't pervs.
Despite all this superficial nonsense Kevin Hazelwood was yesterday found guilty of raping a nine-year-old girl six times over an extended period of time despite being on the sex offenders' register and supposedly under close supervision in the community.
Not entirely unrelated, a man is in police custody after a house was blown up in Cheddleton, Staffs yesterday. My sources tell me the man was recently released from prison having served two years (yes, TWO YEARS) for stabbing his lover to death. He is said to have been dating the 16 year old girl who was killed in the fire/explosion.
Anyone else believe we need to sort out our priorities?

People in the news

Profumo's gone then. I'd forgotten he was Minister for War. What a lovely title. One of the few times I remember being lost for words was when I called a mate and he picked up the telephone and said "War Office. You want a fight?". Why don't we have a Minister for War and a War Office nowadays? Apart, that is, from Tony Bliar and 10 Downing Street.
And Maxwell just won't go away will he? Despite having been dead for 15 years or so. The latest scandal is that he shot a German in the war. Someone apparently took exception to his account of this in his autobiography and reported him to the police. I know Maxwell was Hungarian, but did he really write something in his autobiography which was effectively an admission of murder? The story goes he was attacked by a tank. Did he try the old "Stop shooting or the mayor gets it." ploy? The police eventually decided not to proceed with the matter. Perhaps the mayor was carrying a table leg, or looked a bit Brazilian.
And Wayne Rooney is being paid five million for the first twelve years of his autobiography. He is quoted as saying " ... the books will contain some 'surprises' ... " What - like a properly constructed sentence? I can see it now - in fifteen years someone will be reporting him to the police for misuse of a comma. Or perhaps even for admitting to the occasional deliberate foul or two.
And, finally, Michael Jackson has stopped paying for his Neverland Ranch, because he's no longer living there. He moved to Bahrain after being acquitted of being a paedo. Is he doing a Glitter? Do they have sharia law in Bahrain? Is he being a good boy? Goodness knows what they might cut off. I also wonder what their reaction might be to his 'singing' and 'dancing'. Anything which brings these to an abrupt end is fine by me.

Scum of the earth

I'm a fairly easy-going sort of chap, make my way through life with as little controversy as possible - there's not a whole lot gets me worked up. Apart from the very occasional exception. Yesterdays Law Lords ruling that Leeds City Council were entitled to remove gypoes from their own land is one such example. WTF was this ever in doubt? What the Lords should have been talking about is why it took months to remove them in the first place. Bet it would not have taken that long had they somehow parked themselves on the front lawn of Buck Palace or on Windsor village green. We hear far too much about the human rights of gypsies and far too little about the human rights of villagers subjected to crime waves whenever these sods turn up on their doorstep or the human rights of the people who have to clear up their mess when they leave. Napalm the lot of them in the middle of the night, I say. Problem solved.

What's in a name?

Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against being called IWD - my parent's could have chosen a lot worse (there actually are blokes called Mike Hunt and Wayne King). Every now and again, however, one hears a really good name. At the moment I quite like Monty Panesar and Marcus Trescothick; previous favourites have been Lawrence Eagleburger and Admiral Poindexter. Yes, the Yanks certainly know how to create a name - not that I'd ever call a daughter Condoleezza. With all this novelty around, why do muslims feel it necessary to call almost everyone Ahmed, or Ahmad, or Mohammad, or Mohammed, or Ahmed Mohammad, or Mohammad Ahmad, or Mohammed Ahmed Mohammad Ahmad. Talk about small-minded. But then we know that anyway, don't we? And however does the postman deliver letters when everyone on Behead the Infidels Road has almost the same name? Actually, I'm not being quite fair here. There are plenty of arabs with beautiful names - the Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirates and the rulers of Qatar and Abu Dhabi must be delighted with Mohammad ben Rashid al-Maktoum, Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani, and Zayed bin Sultan Al-Nahyan, respectively. Bet they get through a whole load of Biros though.

Rotter

On the Today programme this morning a chap called Jim Bennett was described as "an expert in child poverty". What does he do? Go round pinching their pocket money?
If so, we have had quite a few experts in child poverty at the local comp. Actually, they used to rip off other kids' dinner money so perhaps they were "experts in child nutrition". There's a bunch at the moment who spend their lunchtimes running en mass through the local shops, confusing the traders and nicking as much as they can, despite a rule confining them to the school grounds at lunchtime. Perhaps these are experts in economics.
One of the kids was recently suspended for making a recording, on his mobile, of a classmate having an epiletic fit. What would you call a bastard like that?

Safety on our railways

While sitting on a train back from York a week or so ago I noticed a half-full supermarket bag under a seat. I drew this to the attention of the ticket collector, remarking it was probably rubbish but enquiring whether it should be checked to ensure it contained nothing more sinister. He hooked it out with his foot and stamped on it.
"That's checked it," I observed dryly.
"Best way to check that sort of thing," he agreed, and, kicking it toward the end of the carriage added, "and now I'm going to check it all the way to the litter bin."
Oh how I'd have laughed had he blown his foot off or destroyed the carriage. I'd certainly have been glad I was travelling on a very cheap ticket.

Flu on the march

The latest, terrifying, news is that a German cat has died of bird flu. Has Sylvester eaten Tweetie Pie? Did Tweetie Pie sneeze on Sylvester as a last defiant gesture? We should be told. Current medical advice is, apparently, that we should keep our pets at arm's length. Has the person responsible for this nonsense ever had a pet?

And many thanks to Sue Marsden for drawing my attention to this: http://portal.telegraph.co.uk/core/Matt/pMattTemplate.jhtml?xml=/news/2006/03/01/ixmatt.xml

The state of English sport

One topic on the football programme last Saturday lunchtime was "Homosexuality - The Last Taboo in Football". Because the fans are getting thrown out for chanting racist slogans they have, apparently, switched to anti-homosexual invective. I didn't realize they were clever enough to work this out. Anyway, one of the chaps discussing this problem remarked, without any apparent indication he realized his goof, "Who cares whether footballers are homosexual as long as they perform on the pitch?" Personally, that's the last thing I want to see. And why are the authorities allowing this when come down so heavily on streakers - so to speak?

Woke up this morning to hear test cricket instead of The Today Programme. Don't know which I prefer, interviews with the dregs of the planet interrupted by the dregs of Radio 4 or the sound of tumbling English wickets. At lunch today we were treated to Steve Harmison's diary - mindless jingles alternating with mindless inanities, one of which went something along the lines "We're having problems with injuries but the team will stick together." Is this the future of sports medicine?