Sunday, October 03, 2021

Funeral plans - can't be put off indefinitely!

 Yes, I celebrated my 77th birthday recently. Am not getting any younger. Decided there was a chore that needed to be attended to, one that could not be left indefinitely on the back burner.

Here's a clue to what I'm referring to. (Am toying with idea of making it the first of a short series of future postings).




Yes, it's a part-completed application form. For what? Answer: a funeral plan, to be paid via 60 monthly instalments (my wife is currently filling out one for herself. Both of us are going for the Woodland Burial Option - there being a well-known site of generous proportions some 25 miles away.  One can opt - as we both  done - for a biodegradable coffin - choosing from cardboard, bamboo or willow (we've both chosen the last of those three).

A goodly part of the  application form's Page 3 displayed above is taken up with two issues:  what would one like read out at one's service by a named individual, what music would one like to be played?  I finally hit on an 'integrated'  solution - probable/possible subject of a follow-up posting. 

My solution is somewhat unconventional - so why spring it on attendees without warning? Why not flag it up in advance? Make one's long term online blogging  presence finally earn its keep!

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Here's a preview of the number I wish played at my funeral. It's by that Colombian superstar called Shakira. It's from Nov 2006. It's called "Illegal". ( Sadly it's rarely listed in her most popular hits! But then 'sadness' is its overwhelming message ...). 

Shakira was in the news just a few days ago, having had an encounter in Spain with wild boars!

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2021/09/29/shakira-confronted-wild-boars-tried-rob-barcelona-park/


Here's the lyric:

Illegal

Who would have thought that you could hurt me?
The way you've done it
So deliberate, so determined
Since you have been gone
I bite my nails for days and hours
And question my own questions on and on
Tell me now, tell me now
Why you're so far away
When I'm still so close
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
You said you would love me until you die
And as far as I know, you're still alive, baby
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
I'm starting to believe it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart
I tried so hard to be attentive
To all you wanted, always supportive, always patient
What did I do wrong?
I'm wondering for days and hours
It's clear it isn't here where you belong
Anyhow, anyhow
I wish you both all of best
I hope you get along
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
You said you would love me until you die
And as far as I know, you're still alive, baby
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
I'm starting to believe it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
You said you would love me until you die
And as far as I know, you're still alive, baby
You don't even know the meaning of the words 'I'm sorry'
I'm starting to believe it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart
Open heart, open heart
It should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart
Open heart, open heart
It should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Lester Mendez / Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll
Illegal lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LL

Postscript - added Oct 5, 2021


Caption to follow shortly...  Suffice it to say that what you see at the top of the above screen grab is the title of this site as it appeared until late yesterday, i.e. "Dreams and Daemons (Reborn after absence)/The original Dreams and Daemons (Oct 06 - Aug 07)". 

( In passing, there was a Mark 2 Dreams and Daemons on a separate website - let's not waste time with details- which later lapsed. Thus the reference to "reborn" when I decided to resurrect the original site in 2019 to report on a school reunion - after a lengthy period - some 10 years or so)

It's now been simplified (thus far) to "Dreams and Daemons". Expect a more informative tagline to appear later today or tomorrow..

Saturday, September 07, 2019

Site revival - September 2019!

Yes, site revival! 

 I was at an amazing school reunion today, laid on by Jim Butterworth (ex-head boy) and colleagues for us fellow pupils who entered the perky, life-enhancing Bishopshalt School, Hillingdon (west London outskirts) in, wait for it, 1956!



Internet image file  


 Yup, some, nay, most of us are still going strong, some 63 years later!

 Even a contemporaneous ex-teacher  of Maths and RE (the engaging and venerable Ken Pearce MA, accompanied by wife) was around to give a presentation on the history and background of some of our teachers from all those years ago.

How many schools can boast a there-on-the-spot spokesman with such a sound link with past history?

I'll add a new posting in a day or two, with a selection of snapshots I took today.

(Update: change of mind - I'll put a few of my pix on the end of this posting, with names omitted - having not sought permission to include them...)

 Please be patient, all you time-mellowed fellow pupils, while I go through my photo-archive of today's hastily-snatched  snapshots!

(Blog commercial: yes, history needs to be captured, real substantial Brit history that is, as distinct from the yawn-provoking ephemera that comes to us via internet and social media with which we are now bombarded on a daily basis!)

Cheers

Colin (Berry)

Bishopshalt School, 1956-63

Here are those piccies:

(Point and click on piccy to enlarge)


























That should do for now. I could add a few more to the above 10  if anyone's interested.

Addendum (9th September, 2019)

There were a number of whole-school photographs laid out on the display table of which I took snapshots.




Having studied them closely, yours truly finds he's in two of them! The upper piccy has me still in short trousers, knees drawn up, end of Year 1. The second  below it is in the upper sixth, seated between  a fellow prefect and the 1962/63 Head Boy (see lapel badges!), again, centre of the 3.



Can you guess which one of the 3 sixth formers is in two, yes TWO, of the previous snapshots? Clue, he's without specs, but sporting a green shirt!


Oh, and here I am again, end Year 5, performing in Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream", out in the Ornamental Gardens at the annual Summer Fete, organized by live wire Head of English ('Ken' Jardine).  We'd sat (and passed) our O-Level English (along with French and Maths) at the end of Year 4, so Ken had to find a way of keeping us exposed to the glories of the English language (mainly Lit) for a further year while we prepared for the remaining O-Levels (in my case, Physics, Chemistry, Geography, History and Latin (plus Biology by private study with occasional  - and  I have to say, much appreciated  - oversight from Biology mistress Mrs."Tessie" O'Shea, there being no timetable provision for those wishing/needing to get qualified - albeit ground story level -  in all three of the sciences. The other, apart from myself,  was Alan O'Neill, later Head of Kodak UK at Hemel Hempstead and stumbled-upon fellow Chesham-resident, who's in one of my Reunion piccies.). 




Apols for the somewhat blurry image. It was initially caught on 8mm cine film by my old man,  if you'll pardon the slang, then transferred to video at the turn of the century, then onto DVD earlier this year, then finally (phew!) onto laptop computer week or so ago.

(Role?  Answer: Peter Quince, leader of the six 'Rude Mechanicals' performing their  studiously ham-acted 'play-within-a-play', entitled "Pyramus and Thisbe").


Postscript regarding this revived website: it was set up in 2006, while living in Antibes, France, and received some 170 or so postings till the final one (on the wacky Hocus Pocus band) in August of 2007.

It was later followed by "New Dreams and Daemons", using a different website host based in Europe. That one later got closed and voluntarily erased  (I'll spare you the reasons).  My three current websites - all with a more specialized scientific flavour - arrived later:


science buzz in 2009

shroudofturinwithoutallthehype , tail-end 2011 

sussingstonehenge , early 2012

Late addition: have just spotted this group photo from the Reunion on a generally-accessible online site (Old Uxonian Facebook). Had previously kept it back, having come to me initially via personal email only:





Update: March 7, 2021

Have recently updated both my sciencebuzz site and specialist Stonehenge site:

Here's the Home Page of the latter, now extended to cover not only timber forerunners of Stonehneg, notably Woodhenge, but the vast number of stone circles that were set up in Neolithic times, 5000 and more years ago:






Saturday, September 01, 2007

Swansong from Old Dreams and Daemons

Dreams and Daemons has moved home: New Dreams and Daemons can be accessed on the following LINK.


Update: April 23, 2016: cancel the above message. "New Dreams and Daemons" is no more (the hosts having notified me a while ago as to what I wanted to do with it: I decide to accept Option A and zap it completely).

 I shall be using use this long-neglected site as a testbed for experimenting with new widgets (like one for Latest Comments!) and then make a decision on its future.



I posted the following as a comment to Gigi's French Windows blog this morning. With her permission I am reproducing it here as a final swansong to Old Dreams and Daemons.

"I won't be bothering with Google/blogger anymore, Gigi, unless or until it stops locking folk out their blogs for no good reason, and allows one's copy to be searchable under Google.co.uk.

I found my present new home by inputting blog co.uk into google.co.uk.

I then went to the first blog I could find, written as it happens by a British-based Hindu, and entered one of his phrases into Google.co.uk and, hey presto, it showed up.

But when I did the same with phrases taken at random from Blogger bogs, or even those from TypePad or WordPress, they only showed up in Google www., and never in Google. co.uk.

I don't understand why Google plays the night club doorman/bouncer where google.co.uk is concerned. I know it's caused a lot of ill-feeling among Brits, especially those who are UK resident, who signed up with the "easiest" blog provider, invariably US-based, only to discover they are automatically excluded from Google.co.uk, which is where a lot of us Brits confine our searches if it's seen as a UK topic.

It is odd, and a bit sinister if you ask me, how Google defends this absurd policy with almost religious zeal.

It's the kind of thing that breeds conspiracy theories. I know Bill Gates made more than one visit to No.10 while His Toniness was still in residence. I must do some research and see if any of Google's top figures were ever issued an invite as well, by TB or Alistair Campbell, if you get my drift.

Who was it who left office complaining about the "feral media" which some commentators read as code for bloggers, both private and MSM.

01 September 2007 12:17:00 CET

Friday, August 17, 2007

Calling my generation - remember Focus with their Hocus Pocus ?

Yes, I thought some light relief was in order. Here's a YouTube clip of Focus doing that manic performance of Hocus Pocus live, way back in 1973. Unbelievable, hilarious, OTT, fuelled by who knows what ?








The Dutch band has a Wikipedia entry, needless to say. Here's what it says about Hocus Pocus, and that amazing guitar riff :

"1971: The group released Moving Waves, which brought the band international acclaim and a hit on both sides of the Atlantic with the radio edit of the rock rondo Hocus Pocus. This rock classic consists of Akkerman's guitar chord sequence used as a recurring theme, with quirky and energetic interludes that include alto flute riffs, accordion, guitar, and drum solos, whistling, nonsensical vocals, falsetto singing, and yodeling. This album established Van Leer and Akkerman as composers who could appeal to progressive-rock album listeners (a large audience in the early 1970s) and radio single buyers."

Message from the conservative grassroots to David Cameron




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Decisions, decisions...
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I've just submitted the following to a thread on the Telegraph's Speaker's Corner , which asks us whether we think John Redwood's tax-cutting proposals will persuade folk to vote Conservative:


"Just as the Wilson/Callaghan era needed a Margaret Thatcher to restore common sense and sanity, so the Blair/Brown era needs an equivalent.

(Brown the Roundhead's wearing of not-made-in-Blair-Land clothes should fool no one, since it was he who used pensioners and taxpayers' money to bankroll one botched, half-baked, misguided project after another. He deserves a lengthy period in the political wilderness to reflect on the enormity of what he and his Laughing Cavalier predecessor inflicted on Britain, leaving an angry resentful population, cynical about politicians of all colours).

The present tax -cutting proposals are welcome, and will help re-connect with traditional Conservative voters who are not all in their dotage. But piecemeal tax cuts are not enough: the Tories should aim to become the June 1st party, that being a target for Tax Freedom day, presently postponed till July 23rd, thanks to the ex-Chancellor and his predecessors. The aim should be small, lean, financially-astute, ruthlessly-cost-cutting Government in which not every other person in the country is on the Government payroll.

There is one other nettle that Cameron needs to grasp if he is to restore confidence in his stewardship. He has to address the legacy of Blair's typically messianic pledge to have 50% of our youngsters in higher education. Yes, I know it's a separate issue, but it's the source of much that is sick in our society.

That pledge looked superficially attractive when first announced, at least to the gullible, but as we now know it was a poisoned chalice, only being possible by youngsters being forced to buy £20,000 of chips on tick to be able to play in Nu-Labour 's employment casino . That's the one with the slogan: "Get something better than a McDo job - at an eye-watering entry fee - and even then you'll have to be lucky."

See what you have created, Mr. Blair, Mr. Brown - a generation of youngsters for whom adult life on the 18th birthday requires immediate decisions that could make or break their entire careers, indeed lives ? How many of us would opt for university, if it meant starting one's working life with £20,000 of graduate debt ? But what are the alternatives ? A job at the minimum wage, with few if any career prospects ?

Welcome to Blair/Brown's Brave Nu-World of opportunity, provided you have a degree from an "old" university, and your Dad has contacts to get you into that vital first job, so you can then start repaying that mountain of debt.

Is it any wonder that so many youngsters, especially on the estates, shrink from adult life and its responsibilities ?

Thanks to that pledge, we have also seen the inevitable proliferation of third-rate universities, devaluation of degrees, and with it, the perception that non-graduate employment means failure, such that we now have to rely on Polish plumbers and other immigrant workers to fill the gap. They prosper, as well they should, while our disaffected youth congregates on the estates, taunting those who still have property to protect.

Don't hug a hoody, Mr. Cameron. Give him a decently paid job, with prospects, that is within his capability, backed up with day-release training. Don't let employers skimp on that - use a carrot-and-stick approach.

Scrap the Blair madness that requires youngsters attend their first job interview clutching £20,000-worth of largely useless paper. Then maybe you will start looking like a credible Prime Minister-in-waiting, with John Redwood as your red-in-tooth-and-claw Chancellor."

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Diary of a day spent with a Peace Corps worker in Ghana, Xmas 1967



Did you read the item two days ago about gap-year students ? According to an article in the Telegraph, those adventurous young folk may be wasting time on projects.

So says the long-established VSO (Voluntary Service Overseas), claiming that what they cheekily call "voluntourism" may be doing more harm than good . According to them, teenagers looking for a life-enhancing break between school and university are being packed off to developing countries to work on one project or another without sufficient training or know how.

Here's a near-verbatim record from my travel diary, written on Day 4 of a 10 day trip into the Northern /Upper East regions of Ghana in December 1967. It describes a chance encounter I had with one Norm Haskett, a US Peace Corps worker. ( How come we never hear of the Peace Corps these days ?)

I'd be interested to hear your views on whether you think Norm Haskett was doing a valuable job or not.

(Hi, Norm, if you're reading this. No, we sadly never kept in touch, but I hope you don't mind my using your real name here, some 40 years on.).

The day I describe here was spent in a region to the east of Bolgatanga. It's a vast and largely empty savannah country up near the border with Burkina Faso (then called Upper Volta). Bolgatanga is marked on the map.




December 20th 1967 (Day 4)

"The greatest impression of my whole 4 months in Ghana. Walked out of Bolgatanga in the direction of Nangodi. The country was just my cup of tea - wide and open, with hills in the distance.

( I was) Just through Zuarungu when a beautiful green jeep stopped with Norm Haskett, Peace Corps Co-op Officer inside with young Martin ( a Ghanaian). He was going to Nangodi.

Jumped at chance to accompany him on round.

First stopped at house of Mr. Bag? (Chief of Spirits). Then moved on to meet Paramount Chief of Nangodi. Watched all the greetings being exchanged with sub-chief. ? Na ?Na ?Na Never looked at each other once.

Then came "pito" a sweet yeasty brew of guinea corn. After greetings we moved to school house for meeting proper. Norm was taking £5 per farmer.


Many had not turned up or paid. Norm sold the 'self-help' idea and said that nothing could start until (there was) £300 in the kitty. Idea was to eliminate the middle man primarily. Co-op buys produce from farmers and markets the collective produce - shea nuts, groundnuts, millet and maybe tomatoes.(We) then retired for lunch at Mr. Bag?. Had a bowl of "TZ" (maize meal), groundnut soup and chicken. More pito. Returned to Jeep, led by men with 'sitar' and calabashes.

(Was) Requested to dance. Did so to great amusement of all. About this time Mr. Bag? called me Atenga, meaning Chief of the Land. Mr. Bag liked me. He himself, however, had just withdrawn from the Coop to join a cattle one instead, he said. We went to his (dead) father's home. His father was previous chief. At place of his grave were four writhing bil-bau (baobab?) trees. Told these sprang up when Chief was buried. More dancing. More pito. Getting a bit fed up with it all at this point.

Then on to Pelogo (sp?) - sub-chief wanted his farmers educated. Felt in very subdued mood. Too much pito I guess.

Then we had to go to place on fringe of Congo district for second round of greetings. First time, said Norm, the Chief was drunk and had no recollection afterwards. He showed marked antipathy to Bolga-based farmers. Said his territory was large enough for separate Coop. This was smoothed over in mysterious way. Then drank akpateshie (palm-gin) by oil lamp. Finally back. Said goodbye to Pious, a very able administrator and interpreter. who like Norm is a Govt. officer.

Back to Norm's place for tasty supper and game of spa. Spa seems to be not so much a mastery of card play as keeping score.

The visits to villages have left a lasting impression.The round stone huts with their stalky roofs, all merging to form a maze, the stumps coated with blood and feathers, the colourful but often ragged smocks of the locals (Nabdam), the dry parched guinea corn, the smell of goats, the flies (tsetse included) the hand clapping, the wonderful hospitality. Tomorrow Atenga continues.

(the following day, Norm gave me four eggs for breakfast, and took me down to the lorry park).



PS: For the record, I went to work in Ghana as a specialist science teacher (chemistry) at Accra Academy, recruited by the Ghana Teaching Service ( ad in the Telegraph!). It was a 2-year contract, supported by the UK Overseas Development Ministry, as it was then called. I was 23, had graduated and done a year of commercial research in industry, combined with 5 hours per week of teaching evening class O-Level Chemistry at the local Technical College."


Update Thursday 18:40


Have just discovered a highly relevant blog by googling. It's called "Sarah's Summer in Ghana". (No, it's not our Sarah). This one worked in Tamale, which is capital of the Northern region, and she describes, with pix, how TZ is made.

My recollections of Tamale: having travelled there by bus from Kumasi (where I had run into 2 work colleagues - the Carters- CUSO volunteers (Canadian equivalent of VSO) - who were en route to Ougadougou and thence by train to Ivory Coast ). There was an incredibly rude women in the ticket booth for Bolgatanga buses - quite the most imperious individual I've met in my life, who treated everyone as though they were an inferior life form, including us white neocolonialists, although she stopped short of calling us that.

And the most amazing row in a restaurant kitchen, with just occasional glimpses of the combatants, screaming at the tops of their voices, with sound effects suggesting that utensils were being thrown each other.

And flying back from Tamale to Accra, somewhat the worse for wear as a result of a bout of dysentery, requiring several days hospitalisation at the Southern Baptist Missionary hospital in Gambaga (at which a kind British doctor and his wife took me into their own home for the duration !).

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Guest blog from GROCE (Get Rid of Cow Emissions)

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*Yes, today it's my turn to take a back seat . Dreams and Daemons hosts its second guest blogger, whose name you may have encountered in the press, from proceedings at the Horseferry Rd Magistrates Courts. Or perhaps you have seen her on TV being dragged by her hair or feet into waiting Black Marias by the Metropolitan Police. It is Chardonnay Crabtree, the Chairperson of GROCE ("Get Rid of Cow Emissions"). Whilst I don't agree with all her positions, and certainly not her understanding of the sciences, I feel she has a timely message to offer which should be heard. Over to you, Chardonnay.





GROCE Campaign logo: " Get Rid Of Cow Emissions"

Hello people. Please spare a minute or two to read my message, and try to suspend any judgements you have formed about me and my organization. Most of what you have read is probably lies, put out by the beef and dairy industry, as well as my step-Dad.

GROCE was formed last year by me and my best friend Stasi (that's pronounced Stacey, BTW) straight after we did our GCSE's in Enviromental Science.

After learning all about Global Warning we felt we just had to do something to help the planet.

The problem is one of wide spread ignorance. Everyone has heard about CO2 (carbon deoxide ), it being a polluting greenhouse gas (GG) , which heats up not just greenhouses but everything else on the planet.

If you know the facts as well as Stasi and me it would really do your head in . Did you know there's another GG which is a much greater thret than CO2. Its called Methane, and it is a major cause of those carbon footprints.

You probably don't know this if you haven't been to school for a long time, but Methane is in flammable gas. If you live near a landfill sight you can see it burning at night, heating the planet. It leaks out through old pipes that have been left sticking out of the ground. Methane burns a lot more easily than CO2, which is why we should be a lot more worried about it, and not just the greenhouse owners.

Where you may ask does this Methane come from ? There are two main sauces: one, which I have all ready mentioned, is rotting uneaten food in rubbish tips (probably stuff like quiches, spinach, broccoli, hole-meal bread etc if you ask me).

The main problem however is COWS. Cows produce a lot of Methane . Sooner or later that methane will catch fire somewhere and warm the planet, which we don't want, certainly not at this time of year.

My carefully chosen campaign logo above is intended to bring home forcibly the thret that cows represent to our continued survival on this planet.

No, I am not suggesting that you will ever see flames shooting from a cow's backside, but belief me, sooner or later that Methane will burn up, probably up in the Ozone Layer where you can't see it.

When it does you get Global Warming which is a major cause of storms, hurricanes, flooding, earthquakes, volcanoes, skin cancer, forest fires, and bad TV reception. When it melts the ice at the poles, the Inwits will not have anything to build their igloos with, and polar bears will have to go and live in zoos.

So much for the science. I hope this has not gone over your head. I realise that old people who read this blog cannot be expected to be fully eau fé with all the modern stuff.

So what can we do to save the planet from the scourge of cow bums you may ask ? Quite a lot, you may be surprised to hear. Me and Stasi have drawn up an action plan for GROCE.

It is our aim in the coming months to campaign for the abolition of all cattle-raising and breeding in the UK ( except for Scotland, because my real Dad who's from Ayrshire, and still doing stir at the Scrubs, and looking forward to his release in November, says Aberdeen Angus cattle do not produce Methane).

GROCE intends to see beef and derry products abolished and replaced with substitutes, like farmed cod and scampi, chicken and turkey, imported lamkebabs etc. Who needs milk when there are lots of other drinks with a more exciting taste and colour ?

Once we get rid of cows, we won't need to worry about foot-in-mouth disease either, which sounds very unhygienic. No wonder the silly moos fall ill when you think what they tread in.

Our first target will be the nerve centre of Britain's beef industry, namely the Smithgate meat market in London, assuming it's still there and hasn't been turned into trendy cafés and boutiques. Thousands of beef carcassonnes are sold there as well, so it's not just our own beef we have to worry about, but imported French beef as well.

We intend to set up camp nearby in somewhere that is quite and specious, like Hyde Park maybe. Don't spread this around, we are also thinking of the back garden of Buckingham Palace for its publicity value. We are just waiting to hear back from Brian May, having wrote him and asked if he can suggest a route over the Palace rooftops.

We hope through our days of action to impede the flow of lorries to the market and generally make a nuisance of ourselves. The aim is to make both market porters and the public aware of the damage being done to the planet by all those cows and their emissions.

Let me say straight away that we are normally peaceful law-abiding citizens who simply have the interests of everyone at heart. Sometimes, though people don't bleeding realize (if you'll pardon my French) what is in their best interests and it's then the job of those of us who are better informed to take a lead. I learned that in the new Good Citizenship lessons at the Cherie Blair City Academy, earning a near-pass which is in my Record of Achievement..

Something else we learned about was the necessity for freedom of expression, which is why I refuse to be judgmental about Stasi's friends in the Direct Action group. What they do is of no concern to me, provided it's not done in the name of GROCE.

I personally abwhore all violence, whether it's against people or property, although I would make an exception for my stepfather who's a low-life scumbag, and not someone you would want to share a park bench with.

So if Stasi's strange friends exploit the situation to further their anti-capitalist, anti-globalisation agenda that's not something over which I shall lose a moment's sleep. Maybe that break-in at the Pirbright lab, and spreading those foot-in-mouth germs around the countryside was maybe a bit OTT, but I think they have their hearts in the right place.

You may be wondering what you can do to help, now you are aware of the justice of my cause.

First, obviously, you have to stop eating beef , or meat from any other rheumatoid species, such as lamb, sheep etc. If a single stomach is good enough for us humans, it should be good enough for farmayard animals too. Pigs are OK, despite smelling 10 times worse than cows, and twice as bad as my step-Dad.

Remember, that means no beefburgers, steak-and-kidney pie, rump steak, or burfborg onion if you're posh.

You also have to cut out milk, yoghurt, cheese, butter and other dairy products. Remember, there's always crisps if you're feeling peckish.

Refuse to buy anything made of leather, unless you're certain it's not from a calf, a cow or a bull.

But whatever you do, don't make Stasi's mistake: she invited all the media to a ceremonial burning of her motorcycle gear, being President of the Ilford Hells Angels. So what happens ? A smart arse journalist picks up a smoking fragment of lining and reads the label: "100% pigskin leather". They made her look a right prat. That's the trouble with the media - they try to confuse you with the facts.

A final word: we are desperately short of funds, after participating in the Heathrow demo'. (it's unthinkable there should be an extra runway while there's the slightest chance of cattle being flown in or out the country, and there were passengers wearing or carrying leather too who deserved to have their flights delayed).

Please make your cheques (uncrossed) payable to Chardonnay Crabtree. Send them to me c/o POBox 23, Unit 3, The Old Industrial Estate, Dagenham, Essex.

Remember: £25 buys 5 balaclava helmets, £50 buys wire- cutters and pepper spray, £75 buys a pack of non-traceable SIM cards, £100 buys a sack of marbles and a dozen smoke bombs. £1000 buys a dodgy lawyer on the Legal Aid Panel.

Thanks for hearing me out. I actually quite like old fogies really. You're like me really. Non-judgmental, except on the subject of those bloody cows and their digestive systems.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Did anyone actually see that spectacular meteor shower ?


One of those misleading pictures off the internet of a meteor "shower " (a time-lapse photograph, or more probably artist's impression, needless to say)



I thought the big one was supposed to be on Saturday night. So I watched the night sky up until midnight, saw one or two streaks across the sky, thought "Mmmm, that's promising" and set the alarm clock for 2am.

So there I was, out on the balcony, in a handy recliner chair, scanning the night sky in search of those "spectacular meteor showers", as gushingly described last night on the 10pm BBC News. In the next hour, I saw just 4 streaks of light across the sky, in other words one every 15 minutes or thereabouts. That's a lot of concentration span for a pretty small payoff, especially as the trails were fairly short, not a patch on some I've seen "accidentally" in previous years.

According to the books, these Perseid meteors, so called because they appear to originate from a single point in the sky, corresponding with the Perseid constellation, should arrive at the rate of some 80 to 100 per hour, but that's for the entire night sky.

I don't know about you, esteemed reader, but my particular configuration of eyes and cervical vertebrae only allows me to see a fairly small part of the night sky, possibly an angle of arc of some 100 degrees at the most. I could try viewing meteors as if on the centre court at Wimbledon, but wonder what any neighbours might make of it.

I had decided not to try a second night, until looking at that BBC News bulletin last night, and hearing that the main spectacle was yet to come. More later about some of the ridiculous hype that laced that announcement.

So last night I tried standing or sitting under our Velux in the mezzanine directly under the roof. The hinged glass was tilted to give a view from north-east to south west.

In the space of the next three three and half hours , with muscle cramp, and the sensation, psychosomatically at any rate, of being bitten around the ankles and legs by every passing mosquito I saw 4 meteors. Yes, just 4 !

Admittedly there was a thin haze that was dimming the stars last night, and there was the inevitable light pollution from Antibes, a sizeable town of some 80,000 souls. Is that so unusual ? How many folk have the luxury of viewing the Perseids from a location deep in the countryside one wonders ? My situation was probably more typical than theirs

During a spell of boredom, or was it muscle cramp, I logged on to MyTel, to read that my friend Ped in Britanny had already seen 10 by midnight, but he didn't seem too impressed by the spectacle. Ped, incidentally, has recently been awarded the title of Grumpiest Blogger on MyTel. Grumpiness must be contagious: I wondered where I'd caught it.

Did I maybe miss a hundred meteors while looking at those comments on the computer screen ? Hardly likely methinks.

Now to the BBC. As someone who has previously taught science, I'm glad in a way that Aunty Beeb talks up the subject, given that it now seems in its death throes in the UK, but she's rather given on occasions to over-hyping (think total solar eclipse) , and last night was a case in point.

It began with a reference to the "spectacular meteor shower". That's a misnomer if ever there was, because meteors usually come singly, widely spaced in time, usually by several minutes.

Those photographs or other representations one sees of "showers" (see graphic above) are time-lapse, taken by special cameras, much beloved by astronomers , since they give a permanent record of events for subsequent scientific study. It is quite wrong to portray meteor trails in real time as a kind of firework display.

Patrick Moore was wheeled out, sorry, I meant to say interviewed, as usual. He produced an ancient woodcut, showing multiple meteors radiating from that single point in the sky. Incredibly, however, unless I was not listening properly, he failed to say that it too was an attempt by our ancestors to portray the effect of time-lapse viewing. There IS no simultaneous fanning out of meteors, of the kind portrayed in the graphic above.

That is not the first time that Sir Patrick has been less than candid about what we ordinary mortals can expect to see - with our own eyes.

I have never really forgiven him for the time I sat up into the early hours expecting to see the first encounter between a space probe and a comet, only to be fobbed off with a technicolor computer image of the comet's nucleus. Why had he not explained at the outset that we would not be seeing real video footage, as seemed to be suggested in the programme trailer ?

Sorry, Sir Patrick, I know you're a colourful character, and much beloved for your "Sky at Night" series, which I admit I rarely watched, maybe because I'm somewhat irritated by your stuffed-shirt, bemonacled TV persona. I prefer my TV scientists to look and sound like ordinary folk, without odd mannerisms or 19th century dress sense.

More importantly you don't pass that vital Ronseal test. You don't do what it says on the tin, namely educate. You simply want us to know that there's a whole universe of stuff out there which we lesser mortals can never hope to comprehend,, unless one happens to be an iconic TV astronomer with the initials PM, looking like an irascible character to whom Berty Wooster would have given wide berth.

We were then shown a short video clip of children supposedly watching a previous meteor event . It could have been taken from a Steven Spielberg film. There was this vast blinding incandescent comet-like object arcing toward the group of youngsters, all squealing with excitement -or was it terror ?

Inevitably, parents then were given a big hint that they should postpone kiddies bedtime, and transport their offspring out into the garden to enjoy nature's pyrotechnics. To persuade any doubters who thought the sofa was more comfortbale, there was talk about meteors travelling at 130,000 mph, before colliding with the Earth's atmosphere, but with no mention of those long waits between fiery collisions, say10 minutes on average if you are lucky. Ten minutes is a long time to look at the night sky, especially if you can't be sure of looking in the right direction.

I don't think the BBC is doing science any favours by making the real world look tame in comparison with what children see on the screen. It's self-serving in a way: "When you are bored and disillusioned, come back to us. We the fabled BBC, do things properly, geared to your microscopic attention span, the result, as often as not, of spending 4 hours a day in front of the screen. "

Nerds corner
Two niggles re the science, both minor, but an irritant if one knows the facts. The Beeb correctly referred to meteors being caused by collisions between dust particles in the tail of the comet Swift-Tuttle - often no more than the size of a sand grain, - with the Earth's atmosphere. They then referred to them encountering "friction" between the outer atmosphere, and then "burning up".

In fact the heating is actually not by friction, but by a ram pressure effect. What is a ram pressure effect ? Er, look it up. That's what encyclopaedias are for.

The dust particles do not "burn up", in the usual sense, there being nothing combustible to burn. Sand, which is silicon (IV) oxide, for example, is fully oxidised silicon. The mineral grains first glow white hot and then vaporise. The light one sees is not from the glowing speck itself, obviously, but from the surrounding air which becomes ionized (electrically charged) by the intense heat from the incandescent particle.



Update: Monday 13th Aug 23:43

The sky is clearer tonight, and I caught a glimpse of a meteor just a minute ago. I might try viewing from the sea front later on.

The Times has an article headed: "Meteor showers provide breathtaking sight, but British clouds ruin the view".

There's just one small problem. Its accompanying photograph purports to show a meteor shower, but as one "Samuel in Chicago" points out, it's nothing of the sort, merely a time-lapse photograph of stars wheeling in the night sky.
I submitted the following comment:


"It's OK for astronomers to describe the phenomenon as a meteor "shower", using time-lapse photography, but it's a total misnomer from the standpoint of an observer, relying purely on his or her eyesight. Even under ideal viewing conditions, it's unlikely one would see more than one trail per minute.

Samuel of Chicago is of course right.

I have today reported on two nights of disappointing viewing in the south of France."

www.dreams-and-daemons.blogspot.com


Submitting and getting published are sadly two entirely different things where the Times is concerned, as I've said before on more than one occasion. Since that paper steadfastly refuses to date- stamp readers' comments, it may be hours before one knows if one's merely held up in a queue or, as usually happens with my contributions, held back. There is no love lost between myself and the snooty Times.


I believe it's time the media stopped referring to meteor showers, and leave that term to astronomers with their time-lapse photography. Let's simply call them "meteor displays" to avoid raising false expectations.



Links: Wikipedia on "Perseids" and on comets


Wikipedia on the difference between meteors, meteroites and meteoroids