Amateur Ramblings

Minority Report

I was going to write about a sewage-powered gas lamp this morning, but after watching Question Time last night I thought I'd weigh in with my comment.

In case you only get your news from OK or Take a Break, you might have missed the controversy that has blown up around Nick Griffin's appearance on the show. He is the leader of the British national Party (BNP), a racist fringe party that, in having two of it's members (griffin being one) elected as MEP's earlier this year, is currently enjoying it's highest support ever from the electorate. Although the party has exposed itself in the past as aiming to see a Britain that is '99% white', in recent years it has moved to cloak it's ridiculous and dangerous opinions in a veneer of respectability. In doing so it has managed to cash in on the publics apparent disaffection with the Labour and the Conservatives.

I was surprised how many people were saying that he shouldn't be allowed on the program. I definitely think that the best way to tackle such racist views it to challenge them, to argue with the people who spout such hateful nonsense, and to expose their views as being stupidly stupid. And so I was pleased to see this happen last night.

The other guests on the panel weren't brilliant, and watching the show I was reminded of watching an out-of-form Australia beating England in the one-day series this Autumn. Luckily, the audience more than made up for any shortfalls from the studio floor, and David Dimbleby also pressed (fairly) Nick Griffin to explain himself.

As I watched, I actually found myself feeling sorry for Nick Griffin. Here is an man who was completely out of his depth, unprepared, and visible shaking as he tried (unsuccessfully in my opinion) to make his racist points. He clapped his racist hands when people landed blows, and chuckled his racist chuckle at inappropriate moments (such as when he joked that how would anyone know that he shared a platform with David Duke, a Ku Klux Klan leader, as he was wearing a hood).

In short, he failed.

But as I say, that's just my opinion. I was cheered to see that almost all of the audience, a random section of the voting public, was against him and his ideas. But I still wonder whether all of the people who voted for the BNP in the past will do so again. Sure, none of my circle of friends are that way inclined. And I don't recognise that the country has an immigration problem - I live in an area with a high level of immigration, but this totally does not affect my life in any way. But there are clearly places in the country (including where I live) where people are exercised by such issues, and I just hope that they don't turn to fringe parties like the BNP for satisfaction. I'm certain they, and the nation as a whole, won't get it.

If you like, you can watch the show for free via the BBC iPlayer, where it is available for the next seven days.

Chat, Walk, Swing

Since before her birthday, Olive has had cold-like symptoms. But was it a cold, or was it teething? Well, it is probably a bit of both, but she has also been sick a couple of times (especially on Wednesday morning, when she pretty much kept us up from half-past three). Trips to the doctors in recent weeks have suggested a water infection might be at work, but the doctor who saw Olive yesterday diagnosed an ear infection. Antibiotics continue.

She hasn't let her ailments get her down though. Here's Olive enjoying a go on the swings in East End Park, on the afternoon of her birthday.

Speech news, and 'Dadda' and 'Mamma' are now being dropped irregularly into her conversational babblings. Also, 'Ay-o' (translation - hello) can be ofter heard, usually when she is playing with one of her toy telephones.

In terms of motion, I am pleased to exclusively reveal that Olive took four actual genuine steps yesterday. I was not in the room, and Gemma only caught site of the end of the effort, but Gemma's mum reports that 21st October 2009 was the date when my daughter took her first steps.

Picture Post

I promised you a post about the Green Man Festival, and by the power of greyskull I'm going to deliver you a post about the Green Man Festival.

Luckily, I didn't specify the length or depth to which my review would stretch. So I thought I'd see about getting away with confirming that I had a great time, and leaving you with a almost purely pictorial post.

You can see more photos, including those from past festivals, on my Green Man Flickr set, in the Green Man Festival pool.

Wheelspin

Apparently, this is what happens when a locomotive loses tractions and gets itself into an uncontrolled wheelspin. I certainly woudn't want to be aboard the next train to come along this way.

Photo credit: Navarzo2

Bad Science

Of all the books I have read so far this year, I'd say that I learned most from reading Bad Science.

 

Ben Goldacre primary bread comes from being a junior doctor, but he is also a journalist; he writes a weekly column in the Guardian. The articles he pens concern themselves with the hypocrisy and bunk that are prevalent within the world of medicine. He looks at how the pharmaceutical industry pretty much fix medical trials so the results flatter their new products, the failings of science journalism in the media, and the 'pseudoscience and quackery' that is homeopathy.

He also devotes chapters to individuals such as Gillian McKeith (who is shown to have a limited grasp of even the most basic biology) and Matthius Rath (who has 'denounced antiretoviral medication as toxic and dangerous, while claiming that his vitamin pills could reverse the course of AIDS'). Dr Goldacre takes time to explain how these people peddle bad science and shows they are in fact extremely dangerous (and litigious).

Proof that his work had been absorbed and understood came last week, when newspapers and the broadcast media started reporting (with increasing hysteria) that a schoolgirl had died after being given her cervical cancer vaccination. It subsequently came to light that it was not the vaccination that had caused the death, but as Ben Goldacre notes in his most recent column, [as of 3rd October 2009] I can see 1,592 articles on Google News about one poor girl who died unexpectedly after receiving the cervical cancer vaccine, and only 363 explaining the postmortem found a massive and previously undiagnosed tumour in her chest'.

The above is a mini-repeat of the MMR, which should definitely be taught as a module in Media Studies classes (and which can be read about on the Bad Science website). In fact, I would suggest that Ben Goldacre's book should be enforced reading material for, at the very least, all journalists and those working in the field of medicine.

Electricity Loves Company

During the blog-blackout, Deb and Neil visited. They, I, and Michelle went to the Brudenell Social Club to see some good music being played.

I love this venue, and so did the other. It punches above it's weight in terms of quality of band to size of venue ratio, and so it was tonight that we came along to see Jason Molina fronting his Magnolia Electric Co. For you, reader, I captured some rather fuzzy images images of all three bands on my aging mobile phone (well, aging as only modern technology can; I'm sure my phone is considered obsolete even though it is only 18 months old).

I'm sorry, I can't actually remember the name of the first band. It was something like My My, but spelt differently. Internet searches are only as good as your spelling. I recall them being pretty good but not massively memorable.

Not so The Bitter Tears, who's very entrance caused befuddlement in the room. All of a sudden, singer Greg Norman is on stage, in drag, lightly strumming his guitar and singing. Heads turn - is that women's clothing he is wearing? A strange person appears to be dancing to an unheard beat in the space between the stage and the seats. He is wearing dungarees and apparently nothing else. But this, it transpires, Michael McGinley, who suddenly steps up to his position as bass player. The three other members, also in drag, materialise from various hidden recesses around the room, and they are into their first number before the folks watching can digest what is going on.

The Bitter Tears play a kind of dark county music, which seemed entirely appropriate and very right. Different, then, to the more accessible music played to us by Magnolia Electric Co. To me, Jason's songs seem very natural, like you might have heard them on a Sunday afternoon local radio show. But that's not the half of it. I love the description 'nocturnal, atmospheric music with a distinctly rural-american tinge', and I urge you to stop reading immediately and go and check out some of the band's output.

Mad Men

There is a wonderful little filmette on the BBC website right now, looking at the history of cigarette advertising.

'But there was a time when there were very few restrictions on tobacco promotion. [Take] a look at the ingenious, and not so truthful, ways the ad agencies tried to sell cigarettes in the past.'

Ingenious indeed; who could argue with the testaments of doctors and babies?

Temple of Doom

Dean recently gained access to the abandoned and structually unsound Temple Works in Holbeck.

His pictures can be seen on Flickr.

And while I'm mentioning Dean, good luck to Rachel who is a few days away from having their second child.

 

Bukka

I like the occasional musical finds on BoingBoing; current favourites of theirs are female ukelele players and pre-war blues, such as this offering from Booker White:

Tasty Stop*

So, it has been a most excellent but tiring day. A couple each of Gemma's aunts and cousins popped by, and Olive had some great presents and received 29 cards. The packaging has been a bit tricky to manage given that we are in the midst of the Great Bin Strike 2009, but I'm sure the green bin of (unoccupied) number 66 will come in handy over the weekend.

This afternoon we had a walk down to East End Park, with Olive on (in, really) her new bike. She enjoyed it a lot judging by her beaming face. She also had a go on the swings, as did I.

Tonight at Browns Olive was treated to a kind of taster menu, in addition to her main course of meatballs and spaghetti bolognese (leftovers from our tea last night). Here's what she sampled:

• birthday cake
• venison
• langoustines
• chilli and garlic mushrooms
• black pudding
• chorizo
• parsnip mash
• sea bream and chips
• water to drink

In returning to savoury after having some cake, she has clearly disregarded the advice of John Shuttleworth.

*This post is named after our favourite greasy spoon cafe, on Bristol's North Street.