Archive for July, 2004

Sheep, morality and the college student…

Fyse July 31st, 2004

BBC NEWS - UK - Crafty sheep conquer cattle grids:

“Hungry sheep on the Yorkshire moors have taught themselves to roll 8ft (3m) across hoof-proof metal cattle grids”

And people call sheep stupid. Guess this shows them, doesn’t it? Actually, I have to confess I’ve never really been an ardent defender of sheep’s reputations. Perhaps I am even guilty of thinking them a little slow.

Did you know that pigs are very intelligent? I saw a documentary about that a while ago, and I was so amazed that I proceeded to tell everyone about it. I haven’t really stopped, but it’s been becoming increasingly difficult to find people who don’t know already. I guess it raises tricky questions about inconsistencies in my meat-eating-ness. (I know that’s not a word, but it’s the only one that fits. English is an evolving language, and this is the cutting-edge…)

I’d feel a little uncomfortable eating a dog, for example, but pigs out perform them in a lot of intelligence tests. Is intelligence the way to judge it though? I mean, I’d hardly feel happier eating a human with a lower IQ, would I? There are many people I wouldn’t mind spit-roasting (many, many people), but the demographic of the ‘crisp them slowy over hot coals’ group probably wouldn’t show any significant trend in intelligence. Anyway, I wouldn’t plan on eating them afterwards (one has to draw the line somewhere, after all…) That is an interesting question though. Perhaps I will compile a list, and get back to you. I feel a little statistical analysis is in order…(geek)

There’s really no reason why I should eat one animal happily, and not another. I guess basically it comes down to social conditioning, cos dogs are eaten as a matter of course in some parts of Asia. In little ol’ England though, if I were to slap Mrs Henderson’s Pekinese on the barbeque, it would doubtless cause some consternation.

The only thing I really feel justified eating is fish. I reckon that if you can’t kill it yourself, then you shouldn’t eat it. Which means I probably shouldn’t eat meat at all, but I do. Fish, however, I have caught, gutted and cooked entirely myself, start to finish, so that seems a little more justifiable. Is there any logic to that? I suspect not. I’m tired.

My new statistics service tells me that I have two loyal readers (flatmates from last year at uni. Vive le ‘Flat 14′!). Cheers guys. I’ve only had it running for 24 hours though, so maybe there are more of you out there. There was one other visitor, actually, someone from University Of California, Santa Barbara. Hello there! If you come back, leave me a message and please solve the mystery of quite how you came to find this peculiar little backwater of the world wide web.

Stats galore…

Fyse July 30th, 2004

You may not see a counter, but I now have one. This means I will finally be able to find out whether anyone is actually reading my blog, other than my two friends who have left comments. I suspect that they are not, but maybe they will eventually. The counter, in case you were wondering, is provided by www.statcounter.com, and is free from annoying advertising banners as well as being, well, free. Good eh? At least, it will be if it works. I haven’t yet had any visitors to check it with. Have to wait and see.

Come hither, wandering surfers of the world wide web.

“Miserable Failure”…

Fyse July 27th, 2004

Go to Google, type in “miserable failure”, and then hit the ‘I’m feeling lucky’ link. Go on. I’ll wait…

Amusing, no? Thought it was worth a quick post to mention it. Read this BBC article for an explanation.

Of 40 degrees, you say?

Fyse July 26th, 2004

If only there were a way of making all you healthy people out there suffer with me, I would be so much happier. Perhaps a moaning and bitter blog post will do the trick? Now if only there were a way to make you all read it…

Have you ever used one of those heat-sensitive-strip thermometers? I tried taking my temperature with one of those today, and it gave me a reading of 40°C, (104°F for those yet to be dragged kicking and screaming into the modern world). Now, I’m all for the exageration of symptoms to gain extra sympathy, and am not entirely against a little hypochondria now and then, but that did seem a little extreme to me. They may have the advantage of preventing your child getting mercury poisoning when they are at the stage of chewing whatever comes within range, but these strip things are clearly a little over-eager.

You’ll all no doubt be overjoyed to hear that I am not on my way out, since a proper thermometer downgraded my status from ‘critical’, to ’stop moaning’. Still, I’m above the ’standard healthy level’, and it’s certainly enough to be making me feel more than a little the worse for wear…

Right, I’m going to go to bed, I think. Nothing like a bit of sleep to make you feel better, eh? Or at least to provide a few hours of blissful oblivion in which the urge to vomit does not become overwhelming.

(Put you off your food? Good! (For those of you actually eating at this point, be careful not to pour orange juice on your keyboard. Removing and cleaning each and every key is not fun. Believe me.))

Pub bosses ordered to introduce smoking ban

Fyse July 25th, 2004

The Observer - Politics - Pub bosses ordered to introduce smoking ban:

“Health Secretary John Reid has ordered Britain’s publicans and restaurateurs to draw up plans to phase in smoking restrictions across all their premises as the first step towards a blanket national ban.”

Hooray! The sooner the better, I say. I didn’t have such a strong opinion about this issue until relatively recently, but I’ve become radicalised. Having a group of friends in which one person smokes like crazy every time we’re in a pub has really made me angry. It’s nothing personal, (at least, it wasn’t until I specifically asked him not to light up yet another cigarette and he did anyway) but I don’t see why people should have the right to poison other people as well as themselves.

Kill scientists, says animal rights chief…

Fyse July 25th, 2004

Guardian Unlimited - Special reports - Kill scientists, says animal rights chief:

“I think for five lives, 10 lives, 15 human lives, we could save a million, 2 million, 10 million non-human lives.”

Words cannot describe quite how apoplectic this sort of thing makes me. As a student in Cambridge, we are constantly disrupted by nutcases (well, they are) protesting about the nearby Huntingdon Life Sciences. However, please don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with those who hold passionate beliefs and exercise their basic right to protest against what they see as wrong. Whether I agree with them or not is irrelevant (though as it happens, I don’t agree with them). Idiots who go around condoning, and even encouraging, the assasination of scientists are a different matter. Do they not see the contradictions? Animals die in experiments to save human lives, humans die in assasinations to ’save animal lives’. How can one be righteous and the other evil? (Incidentally, I would never approve of animal experimentation for anything other than necessary medical research)

This is not an entertaining post, or even an informative or well argued one. It is purely a vent for my vexation. Dangerous extremists like this Jerry Vlasak should be locked up.

Get me the head of the head of Microsoft…

Fyse July 23rd, 2004

Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!

(I don’t need to explain any further, do I?)

My Kingdom for a job…

Fyse July 23rd, 2004

I did a tour of job agencies today in the sweltering (by English standards) heat, only to get not a single positive or encouraging response. I’ve discovered that there are few things in life that irritate me more than an employment consultant thinly veiling their deeply felt hostility with a studiedly sympathetic look. Their expression conveys ‘Ah, how pathetic. I feel almost sorry for you. Do you really think we’d employ someone who’s only just got round to going to agencies? You must have been home for at least a month now, and you wait this long to find a job? What does that say about your work ethic and motivation levels, eh? You’re a slob. A lazy, good for nothing layabout. We wouldn’t employ you if you were the last empoverished student on earth. You are a blight on our beautiful, industrious society. Get out of my sight, before I release the hounds.’ It may seem a complicated message for a single glance, but trust me, it’s there. What’s more, they may have a point.

I’m not quite sure what avenues to explore next really. I would have had a great (for ‘great’ read ‘lucrative’) job lined up for September at a factory, but I’m busy that month. While I’m on the subject, I’m away doing a production at the Minack theatre in Cornwall. (Minack Theatre). It’s a G&S operetta called ‘Utopia (un)Limited’ and I’m playing the part of ‘Sir Bailey Barr QC’. We don’t start rehearsing till September, and I don’t know much about my character as yet, but I think I’m going to be an insufferable stereotype. Should be fun.

In pretty typical style, I’m being creative with my displacement activities, and am now starting to learn Java. The logic goes that it’s constructive, and that it’s a useful skill that may help me toward gainful employment at a later date. Unlikely, admittedly, but at least it’s keeping my brain reasonably active during the holidays. Now, if only I could get the software working I could actually start learning something…

Like a crushed ‘Crunchie’ bar…

Fyse July 19th, 2004

Another blogger (WhimsyChick) was talking about her bad back the other day, and I too suffer rather in that department. I feel sure that (even though she can’t remember it) she hurt her back doing something heroic and/or poetic, like saving her children from a burning house. Mine is something to be slightly less proud of…

It was about three and a half years ago, after a party, and I was walking with friends to the station to catch a train home. Now, it may not suprise you to hear that I was not entirely compus mentus, and somehow, (we will never know exactly how), I became separated from the group. (One story goes that, with a whoop of joy, I careered off down a sideroad, running headlong toward the horizon. In fact, that’s their story. My story is that they brutally, callously and maliciously lost me on purpose. The jury is still out.) After a brief, but fruitless, attempt to find me, they proceeded on to the station without me. I can’t entirely blame them.

I was enjoying myself immensely however, and after a brief, but thorough, tour of the Harpenden suburbs, I stumbled into the bright lights of the station. By this point the train was coming round the final corner, pulling into the station, and I was on the wrong platform. With lightning fast reactions, I looked at the train, looked at my friends on the other platform, looked at the train again and looked at my friends again. Eventually the penny dropped and I registered their yelled instructions.

I sprinted up the steps and onto the bridge, cheers of encouragement and sneers of derision from my peers ringing in my ears. I made quick time, and was soon clattering down the steps onto the correct platform. However, it was at this point that I managed to hit the very edge of a step as I ran. You know those old Road Runner cartoons? Remember how Wiley Coyote would react when he ran onto banana skins? Well, I can exclusively reveal to you that it really can look like that.

I swear my ankles were actually higher than my head for a significant portion of the flight. This graceful, almost beautiful, spectacle did not end well however. The first part of me to make re-entry was my back, or more specifically a very localised region of my spine. As a result of this (now almost amusing) episode, I am the proud owner of a wedge shaped vertebra. (That’s the only relevance of the title. It’s how the injury was decsribed to me. Nicely vivid image, don’t you think? Pleasant to ponder on…)

PS I caught the train. With a quite stunning grasp of First Aid and the treatment of spinal injuries, my friends executed a quick ‘grab and drag’, hauling me down the steps and onto the train. Er, cheers guys…

Only in America…

Fyse July 19th, 2004

BBC NEWS - World - Americas - Girlfriend ‘hit with alligator’:

“A man in the US state of Florida was arrested after he allegedly used his pet alligator to hit his girlfriend.”

Actually, of course, the title is a little unfair since alligators are only found in the US. Or are they? Hold on….

Nearly true. Apparently they’re found in eastern China too (a bit random). They’re called ‘caimans’ in Central and Southern America, apparently. How about that, eh? I’m sure you’re all fascinated.

Anyway, my point was that it’s hard to imagine such an event occuring anywhere else in the world. To fill you in (since being lazy products of the information age, you probably haven’t bothered clicking the above link. And it might well be broken by now anyway) the story goes that a man lost his temper when he realised there was no beer, and threw his pet alligator at his girlfriend. He actually picked up the 3 foot long reptile, sharp snappy teeth and all, and lobbed it across the room. Now THAT is an over reaction.

I don’t think you could quite pull that off in England. There’s a distinct shortage of pets that would make impressive projectiles. British wildlife doesn’t get much more threatening than a fox. Actually, there is something rather sinister about foxes. I wouldn’t want one square in the face, anyway.

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