Stranger than fiction

“We’re injury lawyers for you”
“We’re real lawyers”, shouts the actor from The Bill.
“We will do our best for you.”
The only thing I want an actor from the Bill to do for me is catch villains played by otherwise out of work stereotypically cast actors between the hours of 9 and 10 once or twice a week.
We’re real lawyers indeed.
Perry Mason must be turning in his grave.

Just the facts, Ma'am

Have you noticed as I have over the years the criticism that the Daily Mail gets?
As it used to be our family paper, this has long perplexed me. It has always seemed pretty fair and balanced with a smattering of interesting strong opinions from good writers as far as I can see.
Yet I have been taught by the liberal TV people that that makes me a communist or a raging Nazi like there is a difference.
Can it really be so vilified? Is it that bad? As I don’t get any daily paper never mind the poncy ones I have not felt fully qualified to comment.
Until today
Until I tested a new theory.
Maybe people hate it because it’s popular.
But is it? It is just one of many papers that I would have guessed sold well maybe roughly equally.
Right?
Wrong. Google the circulation figures and welcome the light.
After The Sun, the Daily Mail massively outsells the rest. Twice as many as its nearest rival and more than the Guardian, the Times, The Express and The Telegraph put together. And it has the best TV guide in a Saturday.
So rest your conscience, it is the popularity they hate.
Obvious when you have the stats.

The Quotable Me: Attempt 2

Life's greatest mistake is thinking that other people have it easy, even the jammy bastards who actually do.

Three men walk into a bar

Me colleague tells me there are at least 3 different types of the Gaelic language spoken around our shores - in Wales for example and in Ireland, both of which are different to the Scottish version.
It's hard not to wonder if such an unholy trinity would communicate well through their uncommon language.
I would like to think that should this uncertain fraternity find themselves in the same room facing a peculiar dilemma, that despite at least a couple of failed solutions they could all have a bloody good laugh about it later.

No More Doctors

I am reliably informed yesterday offered was an ‘encomium’. Nice word.
Now for today, pick a clinical problem and find out what happens if it goes unrecognized with my new nurse-practitioner problem sorter.
Pick a number between more than 10 and less than 100.

Now look up the first digit on my new symptom-sorter-instant-diagnosis-0-matic to identify a problem you may relate to.
To discover the inevitable consequences look up the second digit on the second list.

(If you have a zero go to number 10).

A
1) I like to leave my TV on standby
2) I have a fondness for pork scratchings and out-of-date avocados
3) I like to sit in the hot sun
4) I very much enjoy the work of Jeremy Kyle
5) I often cross the road before the green man lights up
6) I tend to keep frustrations bottled up
7) I spend a great deal of time looking in the mirror
8) I often eat peanuts after midnight
9) I never miss Eurovision
10) I very much respect windsurfers

.. and I can reasonably expect that to ….

B
1) make my fingernails drop off
2) cause catastrophic diarrhoea.
3) make my underwear feel tight.
4) Increase the hairiness of my feet by 70 - 80%
5) create new job opportunities
6) anger those around me.
7) add on a good ten years.
8) give me the nails of an old Spaniard.
9) increase the chance of me going on a killing spree in years to come
10) make me a better person

For further details, please speak to your GP

Press Verse

You need a little background. I work for an organisation that has just received a seal of recognition, renewal is every three years, our offices are named after Real Ales one of which is Waggle Dance, we never use the word 'patient' much to my irritation, there's a huge ongoing argument about the differences between accuracy and precision that has initiated a series of migraines in at least four of my colleagues, and finally a rival organisation failed to win similar accreditation...so when we were asked for a quote for the press, this was my suggestion.

Ready?... Let's go ......

The word on the street

Was a calm crepitation

First a whisper.

Then a fanfare.

Of Accreditation!

The powers that be

Thought us ‘very robust’

‘Believe what they say

They’re a source you can trust’.

‘They can help a mere mortal

Make important decisions’

‘They’re not much for accuracy

But they have laser precision’.

But you must involve ‘patients’

That's one of our stages

We can’t see them mentioned

And we’ve checked all your pages.

We said you mean ‘the people

who have a disease’ ?

They looked at us funny.

They didn’t seem pleased.

You really must do this

To improve your site.

We said ‘Forget it’

(We still got the kite).

It’s a feather in the cap

It’s a mark of success

It’s an excuse for Sharon

To put on her dress.

It’s time for a booze-up.

We could put a band on.

And rename Waggle Dance

To Moet and Chandon.

So enjoy the clapping

Seal of approval

‘cos in three years time

We’re up for removal!

Well done to all

And my only suggestion

Is enjoy the success

And don't tell 'Map of Medicine'.

In Praise of the Great British Yawn - a 10-point plan

In case we lose the historical joy of a well-executed British yawn, let me recap the recommended ingredients.

1. Start crumpling your face to prepare your audience for what is to come.

2. Both arms should reach for the sky (which it turns out is just further away than you expect). A glimpse of the midriff as the string vest lifts wins extra points here.

3. As the mouth opens, start squinting the eyes. One is best, two if you feel you must.

4. If you feel comfortable enough to let out a Chewbacca-style moan at this point,all to the good.

5. Turn the fists inward and continue with a slow beating of the chest. This should occur an odd number of times - 3 is good, 5 is OK. Never 2 or 4.

6. Rest the final fist on the chest while you survey your audience for approval.

7. Execute the most inane beaming grin that you can muster.

Please note: The level of smug self-satisfaction you are shooting for here cannot be overestimated. The expression should say to anyone in close proximity "I have just solved Fermat's Last Theorem".

8. The whole procedure should take no longer than 12 seconds.

9. It is best performed in old clothes.

10. If for any reason you do not feel as though you have received the recognition you deserve then a slightly too loud, "That's better" will usually the job done.

Present Company Excepted

I went to see Randy Newman perform yesterday.

When were you last in the same room as someone of brilliance?

Thought for the Day

Why isn't there more science fiction on stage?

Being Western

Science is curiosity. But one person's curiosity is another person's dogma.
And when faced with the closed mind of a believer, who will you place your money on?
Maybe if we all thought about things then the world would be a dangerous place. Maybe that's why our big empty brains invented religion. To placate the tiring questions with a few easy answers.
What easy answers?
And why "easy" when so many struggle to swallow it? Have you ever heard anyone say "without doubt there is no faith".Ouch!" Maybe it isn't so easy to force yourself to believe and close off the more rational parts of your brain. What a shame.

Well the easy answer is that of the lazy scriptwriter.
Stuck with a problem to complete your teleplay? It is the same issue.
Humanity came up with the very answer that is the greatest criticism of scifi entertainment. Star Trek writers were chided with an Almighty amount of criticism for it down the years.
The plot device of the all powerful overlord.

We created an omnisomething-or-other creature with all the answers. (Mummy, can God see me when I am on the toilet?)
The ultimate plot device.
That is why it's an easy answer.
The rest is papyrus and centuries of padding. Interesting, yes. Old things are nice. Give them to the scientists. Put them in a museum. Don't believe in the highly improbable because of them.
Why would you think they were a a documentation of the supernatural? Come on! Can you even say it without a giggle?
WAKE UP!! Open your eyes. Get real. Face the painful reality the rest of us have to live in. It will make you a better person. Be embarrassed if have made this simple mistake for decades. You should be. But laugh it off quickly. And help others.


We are living in an age where my truth (say, science or mathematics) is only as good as your truth (say, Scientology and flower remedies). Is there any weaker argument than "Well that's just your opinion".I don't think so.
But in our new enlightened world, all opinions are equal of course. Whim wins. Rigour retreats.

It is an insult to reason. But at least science is big enough to take it on the chin so come and have a go if you think you are hard enough. Eventually the power of the argument will win you over. Quickly or by dripping erosion.

All opinions.Equal. 66 years ago some were said to be more equal than others. That simple truth is gone.
Patients are Doctors. Hell, nurses are doctors.
Astronomy is on the same bill as astrology.
Nuclear physics on the same bill as reflexology.
Physics the same bill as psychics.
All Equal.
God help us.

You could fight of course. Fight their belief. But do you really want to? And do you really know how? Is there really any way to win this soul?
And why bother?
Let them believe in fairies.
Let them think chiropractic is a profession.
Let them check out Deepak Chopra's website for an early bird discount.

If you do help them, well done you. It is a generous gift you give. Only perform this service for people you really like. And not even all of them.
Your best reward may only to be accused of being "western". And therefore wrong. Presumably.
Wrong is what you are when there are no rights, when you have your rights removed.
It doesn't matter that people died for your rights. Maybe you'll still be able to keep in touch if their name begins with a J or a G. Or an M.

When you have no rights, all you have left is wrongs.

The Greediest Meal of the Day

British titles are the aims of many professions.
Sport,entertainment, charitable services, etc.
But they need to be given at the right time.
Chris Hoy, is too young an Olympic cyclist to be a knight.
And if you doubt his maturity, take a look at the sponsorship he greedily devours.
To see him use his title to advertise breakfast cereal turns my stomach. Bran Flakes as recommended by "Sir Chris Hoy".
Maybe he should only accept such honours when he has finished greedily selling himself to Kellogs for pound notes.
Deals like this cast a dirty shadow over the highest of honours.

Little Quote from the Prairie

I like a quote.
I know they promise easy answers and it's you that has to do the change, but there is no quicker way to remind you to look at your priorities.
And the things about quotes is they always seem to sound true. And very often complete.

I always liked the inspirational messages of Michael Landon's eighties TV series 'Highway to Heaven'. I can't think of a series that does anything like that nowadays. Landon's charm, charisma and hair helped. And the memory intensifies with the fact that he famously died too young from cancer.
Some quote-generating algorithm chose this for me today on iGoogle.
Take from it what you need.

"Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now!"
Michael Landon
US actor (1936 - 1991)

Message for Nick Clegg

Sorry, Nick. Just kidding...

Brain

Motor function 20 %
Sensory function 20%
Emotional function 20% (40% in women)
Imagination 20% (15% in women)
Part of brain that reminds you there's some tea left in your cup even if it's cold by now (25%)

Reviewing the situation

I have spent the last 20 years scowling at middle-aged men on the street making no secret of my disapproval nay disgust.
I admit to frequently hurling threatening abuse in their direction as they walked hand in hand with girls dressed in school uniform who frankly were young enough to be their daughters.

I am beginning to think I might have made a slight miscalculation.

Get Back.

Everyone's reforming,
Even the bands that hate each other. Which is almost all of them.

I see even Supertramp's touring this year. Logical I suppose. But can you think of a band that hasn't reformed? I can only think of one.

Chicago.

Except that Wikipedia says they never spilt up. Still, if they get that Karate Kid 3 singer back that'll be everyone fully reformed.
On a totally separate issue, I read today that, because they share common routes of transmission, Hepatitis C and Hepatitis B are are frequently seen in concert.
There's a reunion tour I won't be queuing up for.

TV Quick

Interesting new series coming up on the BBC3.
It's called "Informed Consent".
Each week the programme looks into the medicolegal aspects of modern day surgical techniques. In every episode of the 36 week series, host Richard Hammond undergoes unnecessary surgery without his consent.
Uber-tool Charlie Brooker provides cocky witless narration.
Well, I can dream can't I?

That's no lie

20 years ago I discovered Emma. I think many must have down the years.
Emma – Emmaline. The Hot Chocolate song.
It’s unique riff bores into you. It builds a resonant timber framework inside you on which the rest of the song dances and builds.
The melody cuts like a bread knife. Not without shrapnel. It is a beautiful song that tilts at suicide and affects you like a safe addiction.
I had it on repeat for weeks. The vocals of the coolest man alive. Pop at its sharpest and most inviting. Loved it then and still do.
Yesterday, rerouting from a blind link on a non-Youtube video content based website, I rediscovered Emmaline. It was impossible to resist a spin. I could spare 3 minutes.
But she wasn’t my Emmaline.
It was a different song.
Another song by Errol. Also called Emmaline (That's no lie).
A discovery. But one that wasn’t on my Very Best of... and I bet it isn’t on yours either.
I missed Errol on his final tour last year. But I always smile at having seen his sparkly trousers shimmer in years gone by. I rank seeing him sing his (other) signature song as one of the finest things I have ever seen.
There can’t be two Emmalines.
And yet, there can.
She’s a girl of course. The irreplaceable star he supposedly saw on a magazine cover and tried to track down.
The story goes that he wrote to her modelling agency anonymously but alas no reply. Then he used his fame. (Why not? Michael Caine famously got his wife the same way). He contacted her agent and told him he would like to hire her for a music video and could she come for interview.
“But that's impossible Mr Brown, she committed suicide 4 days ago".
We are left with not one but two songs exposing the salty nerve endings of humanity with precision and beauty.
All women are irreplaceable of course. But how many can claim that?