Since January 2011 I have been collecting recyclable rubbish from the streets and placing in a green bag so it may be recycled- this because of the council's policy of dumping everything that isn't in a green bag straight into landfill. In the last four years I have filled over 200 bags to bursting, making a total that nears 2 tonnes.
People often ask me what I am doing, and I give them my little spiel. Usually they say "Good for you" or something like that and then I continue with my work. My "remit" also sees me delving into the black bins that inhabit our streets, as many people fail to discriminate what can be recycled and what can't and simply dump the whole lot into the black bin- and thence to landfill.
This morning as I was tapping a rich vein of recyclable material in a bin a young man emerged from his flat.
"What the fuck are you doing in my bins mate?"
"I--"
"I said what the fuck are you doing"
"Well--"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"OK, let me explain--"
"No, just fuck off out of here before I break your fucking face."
The man started to make very aggressive noises and scowling at me in a most intimidating manner. Finally I threw what I had in my hands back into the bin and slammed the lid as hard as I could.
"There. And now I'm fucking off, right?"
And I did, expecting at any moment for him to chase me down the street and give me a good kicking. But no, he returned to his flat and doubtless continued sucking on his can of strong lager, which judging from the contents of his bin was his staple diet.
Some may argue that I am taking a chance my looking into people's bins, though I would imagine the law is a little vague in such an area as things left out in the street. But I never thought it might place me in danger of violence. What I would fear most would be a blow to my left eye post corneal transplant, or damage to my expensive dental work. And maybe I will run out of luck one day and get the hiding some people seem to think I deserve. But (that gentleman's flat being an exception) I will continue my campaign. I think it's too important to stop.
Monday, 27 April 2015
Saturday, 25 April 2015
The respectable evil in Britain today
The "BetFred World Snooker championship". Has a nice ring to it don't you think? I remember back in 1986 a friend complained that the UK Open (snooker again) had just been renamed "The Dulux Open", saying that was surely the ugliest name ever given to a prestigious sporting event. Until now. Now we have a betting firm smeared all over our TV screens from morning till night and this will only get worse in the next week or so.
I watch a fair amount of TV, as my friends and followers will know only too well, but in recent months I have been appalled by the growing number of adverts for betting. The bookmakers are seeking to make losing money a totally respectable bit of fun that anyone would feel happy to take part in- what's wrong with that? the ads seem to ask. I'll tell you: plenty.
When I was a kid our family would gamble sometimes. We'd play blackjack and poker (for penny stakes) and on high days and holidays the roulette wheel would be dusted off and placed on the dining table. But my father made it very clear to us how the odds were always stacked in favour of the bank: that if you and the bank have the same score in blackjack, you lose, that roulette pays out less than the actual odds-against score you have wagered, plus there is the zero, which when it comes up everyone, except the bank, loses. That slot machines (fruit machines we used to call them) are programmed in advance to allow the punter to win- but only occasionally.
When Pavlov carried out his pioneering work into manipulating animal behaviour in the 1930s, he discovered that the best way to guarantee an animal's co-operation was to reward it occasionally for a given behaviour. He called this "positive intermittent reinforcement" and turns out it works superbly well in human beings too. If you lose most of the time but win occasionally, this is the very best way imaginable to ensure the behaviour continues. Gambling relies on this phenomenon, and has made the bookmakers billions over the years. They're becoming even richer now, with online gambling showing an unprecedented boom.
We know how the main political parties feel about it, why, Labour was happy to finance the building of vast "super-casinos" around the country until they realised the opposition they'd incur. The Tories aren't interested; I'm sure some of the big bookies support them financially. So the issue of gambling and whether a society should encourage it or discourage it (through taxation or other methods) is simply not on the table.
I say, it bloody well should be.
I watch a fair amount of TV, as my friends and followers will know only too well, but in recent months I have been appalled by the growing number of adverts for betting. The bookmakers are seeking to make losing money a totally respectable bit of fun that anyone would feel happy to take part in- what's wrong with that? the ads seem to ask. I'll tell you: plenty.
When I was a kid our family would gamble sometimes. We'd play blackjack and poker (for penny stakes) and on high days and holidays the roulette wheel would be dusted off and placed on the dining table. But my father made it very clear to us how the odds were always stacked in favour of the bank: that if you and the bank have the same score in blackjack, you lose, that roulette pays out less than the actual odds-against score you have wagered, plus there is the zero, which when it comes up everyone, except the bank, loses. That slot machines (fruit machines we used to call them) are programmed in advance to allow the punter to win- but only occasionally.
When Pavlov carried out his pioneering work into manipulating animal behaviour in the 1930s, he discovered that the best way to guarantee an animal's co-operation was to reward it occasionally for a given behaviour. He called this "positive intermittent reinforcement" and turns out it works superbly well in human beings too. If you lose most of the time but win occasionally, this is the very best way imaginable to ensure the behaviour continues. Gambling relies on this phenomenon, and has made the bookmakers billions over the years. They're becoming even richer now, with online gambling showing an unprecedented boom.
We know how the main political parties feel about it, why, Labour was happy to finance the building of vast "super-casinos" around the country until they realised the opposition they'd incur. The Tories aren't interested; I'm sure some of the big bookies support them financially. So the issue of gambling and whether a society should encourage it or discourage it (through taxation or other methods) is simply not on the table.
I say, it bloody well should be.
Friday, 24 April 2015
The Lancet under attack
Today a joint letter signed by hundreds of eminent doctors was published deploring the anti-Semitic stand taken in recent months by that august journal and its editor, Dr Richard Horton. The fact that most of them are American Jews may go some way to explaining their grievance, namely that the Lancet has chosen to criticise the Israeli's actions in Gaza last year, which resulted in thousands of deaths, tens of thousands of injuries and in the aftermath, has refused to allow their victims to rebuild any of their infrastructure which was devastated after the onslaught.
They say, where's the balance? Why no criticism of Hamas, who would drive the Jews into the sea if that got the chance? I say, here we go again. This is exactly what happened in South Africa in the 70s and 80s, when the white masters insisted on "balanced" reporting and launching vicious attacks on anyone trying to report the naked facts of the situation. Don't you see what we're trying to do here? they complained. We are only trying to protect our own citizens and do the best to help the blacks to develop at their own pace, poor things. "Separate development" they called it, a highly rational approach to a very difficult problem, they said. And it was a line eagerly bought into by such towering statesmen and women as Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, both of whom announcing they were "happy to do business" with the Apartheid regime.
Now the same thing is happening in Israel. For me this is not about balance. It's about truth. And the truth is, however unpalatable it may appear to the Zionist factions in the U.S. and elsewhere, that a powerful country is exercising its power over an oppressed minority who happen to be of from a different ethnic background. Put another way, Apartheid is alive and well today in the Holy Land- not my words but those of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, a man who should know whereof he speaks.
So I say, power to you Dr Horton and the brave people behind him at the Lancet. You go on telling the truth- that's what doctors are supposed to do
They say, where's the balance? Why no criticism of Hamas, who would drive the Jews into the sea if that got the chance? I say, here we go again. This is exactly what happened in South Africa in the 70s and 80s, when the white masters insisted on "balanced" reporting and launching vicious attacks on anyone trying to report the naked facts of the situation. Don't you see what we're trying to do here? they complained. We are only trying to protect our own citizens and do the best to help the blacks to develop at their own pace, poor things. "Separate development" they called it, a highly rational approach to a very difficult problem, they said. And it was a line eagerly bought into by such towering statesmen and women as Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, both of whom announcing they were "happy to do business" with the Apartheid regime.
Now the same thing is happening in Israel. For me this is not about balance. It's about truth. And the truth is, however unpalatable it may appear to the Zionist factions in the U.S. and elsewhere, that a powerful country is exercising its power over an oppressed minority who happen to be of from a different ethnic background. Put another way, Apartheid is alive and well today in the Holy Land- not my words but those of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, a man who should know whereof he speaks.
So I say, power to you Dr Horton and the brave people behind him at the Lancet. You go on telling the truth- that's what doctors are supposed to do
Monday, 20 April 2015
Mexico dispatch
En route to New Spain, via KLM, Club Class
Our first time to see how the other half lives
Or the other five per cent at least
They put you in a little capsule and give you haut cuisine
But it's still airline food
They have hotel rooms in Tokyo
Not much larger than these
And still they cost a thousand pounds a night
Like these.
Eleven hours later we arrive
Our souls and body clocks arrive six hours later
This is Mexico City
Three times the size of London
Ten times more colourful
We wander through San Angel and Coyoacan
Call them Mexico's Mayfair and Chelsea
Here lived Diego and Frida
And Trotsky, until the ice-pick cut him down
No Indian faces here, except among the servants
Here the faces are of the Spanish masters
We take the public bus to Teotihuacan
Locals think we're mad, tell us we'll be robbed, murdered maybe
But nothing happens
Except we see the real Mexico, and the real people
Aztec faces, Omec and Zapotec
The faces of ancient Mesoamerica
We climb the Pyramid of the Sun under a hazy sun
Delightfully warm, not hot
Still hot enough, however, to burn us
In places where sunscreen was carelessly applied
They say it is the world's biggest pyramid
Not tallest, but in ground covered
They say it may not have been dedicated to the sun, after all
But to Xlotl, God of rain
It makes sense.
The ancients never had to worry about the sun coming out
But water is another matter
As parched river beds attest
On this great pyramid, so many men, women and children died
To placate the Gods
In the end all the sacrifices failed
Climate change, a prolonged drought
And everything fell apart.
After five days of heat and dust and brilliant colours
We fly south to Oaxaca (you say "Whahakka")
The poverty grinding behind lined but cheerful faces
And everywhere, the vibrant colours
Vivid reds, yellows, greens, blues
They all seem to say:
Yes we are poor but we are not destroyed
Oddly, I am almost the only one smoking
Our guide takes us up the mountain to its ancient capital, Monte Alban
En route our way our way is barred by a road block
Set up by locals protesting a weak government that allows illegal building on their land
But their toll is a paltry 10 pesos- fifty pence.
Monte Alban: this is where they played the ball game
On a court like two T's back to back
The games took days, like a test match.
And when they were over, one side died (not cricket at all)
But whether winners or losers died, no one knows
A "sophisticated culture", based on mass murder
We are taken to a mescal still in the mountains
Its owners so poor it leeches from their very sweat
Perhaps they stay drunk on their product all day
If so who would blame them?
We buy a bottle of their best- aged three years in oaken casks
The price, a fraction of what it would cost in the Oaxaca
Will keep them afloat for a week
Later we visit hot mineral-rich springs
Even further into the mountains
Another road block; again the toll is tiny
There we find a shimmering emerald pool,
Inhabited by intrepid young New Zealand men
I join them, my ageing body and sun-screened pallor
Contrasting sharply with their Adonis-like bodies
And perfect tans
Bathing in its waters is like swimming in champagne.
I have been afraid of becoming ill
Packed all kinds of antibiotics and diarrhoea cures
But when I am ill
It is my own fault
I put too many hot chilles on my tostada
And paid for it in the toilet later
And just think: me a doctor!
What a dick I am, I thought
As the world fell out of my bottom
The following day I am fine
To my immense relief.
After nine days, back on the 747
Hibernating in the capsule again.
Did it help me sleep more easily than those in economy?
A little perhaps
But only a little.
Our first time to see how the other half lives
Or the other five per cent at least
They put you in a little capsule and give you haut cuisine
But it's still airline food
They have hotel rooms in Tokyo
Not much larger than these
And still they cost a thousand pounds a night
Like these.
Eleven hours later we arrive
Our souls and body clocks arrive six hours later
This is Mexico City
Three times the size of London
Ten times more colourful
We wander through San Angel and Coyoacan
Call them Mexico's Mayfair and Chelsea
Here lived Diego and Frida
And Trotsky, until the ice-pick cut him down
No Indian faces here, except among the servants
Here the faces are of the Spanish masters
We take the public bus to Teotihuacan
Locals think we're mad, tell us we'll be robbed, murdered maybe
But nothing happens
Except we see the real Mexico, and the real people
Aztec faces, Omec and Zapotec
The faces of ancient Mesoamerica
We climb the Pyramid of the Sun under a hazy sun
Delightfully warm, not hot
Still hot enough, however, to burn us
In places where sunscreen was carelessly applied
They say it is the world's biggest pyramid
Not tallest, but in ground covered
They say it may not have been dedicated to the sun, after all
But to Xlotl, God of rain
It makes sense.
The ancients never had to worry about the sun coming out
But water is another matter
As parched river beds attest
On this great pyramid, so many men, women and children died
To placate the Gods
In the end all the sacrifices failed
Climate change, a prolonged drought
And everything fell apart.
After five days of heat and dust and brilliant colours
We fly south to Oaxaca (you say "Whahakka")
The poverty grinding behind lined but cheerful faces
And everywhere, the vibrant colours
Vivid reds, yellows, greens, blues
They all seem to say:
Yes we are poor but we are not destroyed
Oddly, I am almost the only one smoking
Our guide takes us up the mountain to its ancient capital, Monte Alban
En route our way our way is barred by a road block
Set up by locals protesting a weak government that allows illegal building on their land
But their toll is a paltry 10 pesos- fifty pence.
Monte Alban: this is where they played the ball game
On a court like two T's back to back
The games took days, like a test match.
And when they were over, one side died (not cricket at all)
But whether winners or losers died, no one knows
A "sophisticated culture", based on mass murder
We are taken to a mescal still in the mountains
Its owners so poor it leeches from their very sweat
Perhaps they stay drunk on their product all day
If so who would blame them?
We buy a bottle of their best- aged three years in oaken casks
The price, a fraction of what it would cost in the Oaxaca
Will keep them afloat for a week
Later we visit hot mineral-rich springs
Even further into the mountains
Another road block; again the toll is tiny
There we find a shimmering emerald pool,
Inhabited by intrepid young New Zealand men
I join them, my ageing body and sun-screened pallor
Contrasting sharply with their Adonis-like bodies
And perfect tans
Bathing in its waters is like swimming in champagne.
I have been afraid of becoming ill
Packed all kinds of antibiotics and diarrhoea cures
But when I am ill
It is my own fault
I put too many hot chilles on my tostada
And paid for it in the toilet later
And just think: me a doctor!
What a dick I am, I thought
As the world fell out of my bottom
The following day I am fine
To my immense relief.
After nine days, back on the 747
Hibernating in the capsule again.
Did it help me sleep more easily than those in economy?
A little perhaps
But only a little.
Wednesday, 8 April 2015
Laissez faire: alive and well in Britain today
Last week the British Medical Journal published findings from an investigation of how the two important anti-cancer drugs, Avastin and Lucentis, were being tested. Turns out that Novartis, whose parent company is the Swiss giant Roche, did everything they could legally do to avoid the cheaper drug (Lucentis) from being favoured over its more expensive, but probably no more effective chemical cousin. A number of dirty tricks were revealed by the BMJ, including warping research findings and even offering incentives to the researchers to make sure the results came out the way they wanted them to.
This means the NHS will have to foot the bill for the more expensive drug- in other words you and I are paying for the corrupt practices of the profit hungry drug company Roche, already one of the biggest and most powerful multinationals in the world. I suppose they didn't achieve that status by being nice; no, they got that big by behaving little better than the Chicago Mob in the days of prohibition. And yet the way the legislation is set up at present means there is very little the government can do about it. You haven't heard much discussion about this during the election campaign, have you? Come to think of it, we haven't much discussion about any real, cutting edge issues, which in the good old days of campaigning did actually happen sometimes. The three weeks coming up to an election used to mark a surge of real political debate, and not the turgid, tedious crap we have had to sit through thus far. No wonder more people than ever are saying "a plague on all your houses" and refusing to have anything to do with it. I can't say I blame them...
This means the NHS will have to foot the bill for the more expensive drug- in other words you and I are paying for the corrupt practices of the profit hungry drug company Roche, already one of the biggest and most powerful multinationals in the world. I suppose they didn't achieve that status by being nice; no, they got that big by behaving little better than the Chicago Mob in the days of prohibition. And yet the way the legislation is set up at present means there is very little the government can do about it. You haven't heard much discussion about this during the election campaign, have you? Come to think of it, we haven't much discussion about any real, cutting edge issues, which in the good old days of campaigning did actually happen sometimes. The three weeks coming up to an election used to mark a surge of real political debate, and not the turgid, tedious crap we have had to sit through thus far. No wonder more people than ever are saying "a plague on all your houses" and refusing to have anything to do with it. I can't say I blame them...
Friday, 3 April 2015
Bleach causes more childhood infections: say wha?
Talk about counter-intuitive. Remember the old TV ad:
"Domestos kills all known germs. Dead."
Which I believe is more or less true. So how come a study in Europe showed the precise opposite, namely that in homes and schools where bleach was used extensively the children had higher rates of tonsillitis, influenza and other infections. What's going on?
For a number of years now there have been whisperings that we may have gone too far in our attempts to protect our children from the vicissitudes of life, always keeping them spotlessly clean and avoiding anything that might cause an allergy. Some workers have felt that it is actually vital for children to be exposed to the normal influences humans have evolved to deal with over thousands of years.
And this is what might explain these new research findings. By the extensive use of bleach we deny children the low level exposure to various pathogens they need to establish immunity. The same goes for allergies like peanuts. There must be some reason why more and more children are developing severe allergies, and I think it is because we do not allow them to experience a range of foods in early life so they can become accustomed to processing them.
So next time you berate your kids for getting all dirty out in the yard, maybe you should actually praise them. Sure, give 'em a good bath to wash off the dirt- but leave out the antiseptics- their own immune systems will do the job of protecting them just fine, without the "help" of bleach.
"Domestos kills all known germs. Dead."
Which I believe is more or less true. So how come a study in Europe showed the precise opposite, namely that in homes and schools where bleach was used extensively the children had higher rates of tonsillitis, influenza and other infections. What's going on?
For a number of years now there have been whisperings that we may have gone too far in our attempts to protect our children from the vicissitudes of life, always keeping them spotlessly clean and avoiding anything that might cause an allergy. Some workers have felt that it is actually vital for children to be exposed to the normal influences humans have evolved to deal with over thousands of years.
And this is what might explain these new research findings. By the extensive use of bleach we deny children the low level exposure to various pathogens they need to establish immunity. The same goes for allergies like peanuts. There must be some reason why more and more children are developing severe allergies, and I think it is because we do not allow them to experience a range of foods in early life so they can become accustomed to processing them.
So next time you berate your kids for getting all dirty out in the yard, maybe you should actually praise them. Sure, give 'em a good bath to wash off the dirt- but leave out the antiseptics- their own immune systems will do the job of protecting them just fine, without the "help" of bleach.
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