This Just In...

(News from other sources.)

A new Middle East crisis erupted last night as Dubai TV refused to broadcast The Flintstones. A spokesperson said that people in Dubai do not understand the humour but those in Abu Dhabi do.

Glory to the Highest

Some in the book trade are calling today 'Super Thursday': nearly 800 titles will be published and many of them are contenders to be in the Christmas top 10.

One of those is cyclist Bradley Wiggins' autobiography 'In Pursuit of Glory'. The blurb states 'he first competed at twelve and immediately knew that this was what he wanted to do for his career.'

To put that into perspective, he made the decision when most of his peer group would not have been trusted selecting subjects for their G.C.S.E.s.

His focus and determination received the ultimate accolade eight years later when he won gold at the Athens Olympics for the 4km Individual Pursuit. As he details in the book, it was a triumph that nearly knocked him off track, 'my bender lasted a good eight or nine months and I wasn't quite right for about a year.'

For a while, he found himself 'outside the local' everyday. After waiting for the pub to open he 'wouldn't move for the next six or seven hours as [he] sipped through 12 or 13 pints.' Although he was able to return home and cook a meal for his wife, he would also raid his cellar for Belgian beer. It was a new hobby and he was determined to have all of the available brands.

As he puts it, 'I have mad passionate moods discovering something and have to become the world expert on that interest', which is fine when the passion wins him a medal in the Individual Pursuit, but not so fine when it causes him to down Duvel.

But is it ok in either case?

Both drinking to excess and goal setting can be forms of pain avoidance. Some, with more than a vested interest in the idea, feel that those are excessively driven by goals are suffering from 'Spiritual Deficit Disorder'.

Although these labels are often suggested by ex hell-raisers born again as self-appointed saviours, the concept of SDD makes rational sense.

To reach a goal takes effort. As the goals become more and more challenging, more and time is required. Soon, there is less and less time for human relationships which, for those avoiding pain, is probably the point.

Devotees of SSD claim that if you follow your intuition every day, without setting goals, you will automatically reach your true, personal goal. Although that may be the case most of the time, and a cartload of happy punters claim it is, can you really 'dream scrape' your way to an Olympic Gold?

Doesn't that level of achievement take the kind of relationship shredding commitment that ultimately contributed to Bradley Wiggins' descent into Belgian beer?

The birth of his son Ben, eventually offered Bradley a much needed rope ladder: 'Suddenly everything made sense' and the athlete was able to go onto greater success at Beijing.

However, apart from his guitars, he doesn't have a hinterland away from career and family. His book will be read by people that do.

They will probably be the people who struggled with their G.C.S.E. options because everything seemed interesting.

They probably have limited experience of nine month benders and would struggle to name five Belgian beers.

They probably have no pursuit of glory; but they may ultimately have a more rewarding ride.

Pain Thresholds

On Monday, a man was up a tree near Telscombe Cliffs, East Sussex. John Stirling was cutting branches when his chainsaw slipped and he sliced off his arm below the elbow. He then knocked at a neighbour's door and said 'Please help, I've just cut my arm off.'

The neighbour whisked him and the limb off to hospital, pausing only to store the arm in a bag containing frozen pastries. After fourteen hours of surgery, the arm was replaced and according to staff at the Victoria hospital, the patient is 'very well'.

Today, scientists at Oxford University have published research that provides evidence of a type of pain relief that is based on mind power.

Twenty-four students were recruited and divided into two groups: twelve non-believers and twelve Roman Catholics. In one part of the test, both parties were subject to electrical shocks whilst looking at an image of the Virgin Mary. The scientists discovered the Roman Catholic group felt less pain than the atheists and the agnostics.

In another side to the test, the participants were shown da Vinci's 'Lady with an Ermine' and were given the same electrical jolt: both groups recorded the same pain levels.

The scientists analysed images of the volunteers' brain activity and discovered marked differences: when the Roman Catholics were presented with the image of the Virgin Mary, a part of the brain called the ventrolateral prefrontal cortex was stimulated.

According to lead researcher Katja Weich, this part of the brain 'helps people reinterpret pain and make it less threatening'. The Roman Catholics 'felt safe by looking at the Virgin Mary, they felt looked after.' The scientists are not suggesting that 'this effect is specific to religion; [it] is about the state of mind you can achieve.'

If John Stirling is not a morphine addict, he must be a mental giant and Katya's team need to reopen their notebooks as soon as he waves goodbye to the hospital. Knowing how he stimulates his ventrolateral prefrontal cortex should help us through the credit crunch, the latest developments in Zimbabwe and possibly even trick or treat.

Further research should also provide answers to the following questions:

1. If an arborist can withstand the loss of an arm without screaming, is it ever possible to torture a tree-hugger?
   


2. If elements of the experiment were altered, how would the Roman Catholics respond to an image of Tracey Emin's bed?
   


3. What is the latest eBay price for those pastries?

Liberty is so Twentieth Century

The Daily Telegraph is unhappy that the UK’s first identity card for sixty years does not contain the union flag or any mention of the word Britain. For something that will be used as a proof or residence, it is a shame, say the campaigners, that there are not more symbols of Britishness.

It is not the first time that the identity card scheme has provoked hostility. Other critics have suggested that the cards will erode civil liberties, do nothing to combat terrorism and will cause friction within communities. The cards have also been beset by soaring cost problems.

It would appear that the government has missed a trick.

Instead of forcing foreign nationals to carry this new polycarbonate document, why not thrust a HMG affinity card in their wallets instead?

Affinity cards are a type of credit card that donates an amount to the organisation every time the consumer uses it to make a transaction, so the immigrant would soon be contributing to the economy. The cards would more than pay for themselves. They could even be issued with a pre-paid level of debt which the recipient would be expected to pay back, preferably before accruing interest. Think about it.

If every one of the affinity cards came saddled with a five grand debt, it would cement community relations because anyone new to these shores would be in the same boat as a sizable proportion of the populace. Any subsequent benefit claim could simply be added on.

Moreover, what better way to defang anti-Western terrorists than by granting them high-street spending powers? If the government insisted that new arrivals are expected to purchase a HD-ready TV in the first three months of their occupancy, any firebrands would soon be more concerned with anti-aging balms.

After the immigrant’s first year, the government could perform spot checks to gauge the level of naturalization: applicants could be termed British as soon as they are spotted waiting in a shopping queue, drooling over the sweets by the till.

HMG equity cards are the way forward.

There is still a suggestion that they might erode civil liberties, but who cares?

We don’t need the union flag to denote Britishness. We’ll just tag on some Nectar points.

Drinking

Here is a small report from yesterday's Guardian:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/sep/17/drugsandalcohol.health

It identifies nine different types of heavy drinker.

The Hurt Locker

A film generating a significant amount of buzz at the Toronto International Film Festival is The Hurt Locker, directed by Kathryn Bigelow.

Although she hasn't directed many films, Bigelow's cinematic offerings can leave a strong impression. In Point Break she created what one critic on the Internet Movie Database referred to as 'the greatest surfer-action movie of all time' but it was with the release of Strange Days in 1995 that she managed to cause an even greater outpouring of emotionally affected comments.

Strange Days is not a great film (although one critic boasted it 'literally has something for everyone') but it is a good example of cyberpunk, with a nod towards William Gibson and a wink at Raymond Chandler.

Set in the last few days of the twentieth century, Strange Days stars Ralph Fiennes as an ex-cop, Nero, who deals in illegal recordings. The discs and their playback machines have become the new drugs: when the user places a device resembling a face-hugger (the script is by James Cameron, who may have been creatively influenced by his work on Aliens) on his head and closes his eyes, he experiences all sensory input as though he was the participant.

The first five minutes of the film let the audience know what to expect: Nero plays a recording and we are treated to a first person perspective of a botched robbery. It terminates when the protagonist dies.

Nero throws off the machine and berates the dealer for giving him 'black jack', or snuff. It is a disturbing scene which is paid off at the midway point when Nero receives an anonymous recording.

At first it seems similar to the initial scene, as we see a pair of white gloves breaking into a hotel room. As the door opens, we see a young woman wearing a white nightdress who becomes panic stricken when she sees the intruder. Within seconds, she has her hands tied over her head and has been incapacitated by a stun gun. The intruder now places the machine over her head.

The screenplay describes:

'[She] can now see herself as the wearer sees her....wide eyed with terror, white-lipped, weeping. And she can feel what he feels.'

When the attacker places a blindfold over her eyes, 'she can only see what he sees'. She, Nero and, by extension, the audience are forced to experience both the woman's terror and the attacker's 'exhilaration, pounding heart, flushed skin, panting breath'.

The scene, which ends in the victim's death and an image of the killer reflected in her eye, is extremely disturbing. After Nero removes the device and vomits in a shop doorway, the screenplay describes the moment as 'the worst thing he has ever experienced'.

Some male critics agreed. Paul Gambaccini, then presenter of the Radio 4 arts programme Kaleidoscope, refused to interview Bigelow because he would be able to 'do nothing but insult her'.

It is a testament to Bigelow's skill as a director that she provoked Gambaccini into providing an inadvertent example of the link between fear and scapegoating. He feels revolted because the rape scene erodes the sense of distance between the screen and the (particularly male) viewer.

Bigelow, presumably aware that a whiff of female fear is present in some pornography, uses the camera to prompt a complex emotional reaction and thus illuminates the debate on cinema violence: point of view matters.

Although Bigelow serves the audience what appears to be a traditional slasher moment (the victim is a hooker) by changing the focus, she catches the audience off guard. For once, a depiction of rape and murder is not used simply to bolster a patriarchal character's motivation to catch the assailant. It is a challenging scene and one that is arguably more disturbing because it occurs in a sci-fi film that has the tagline, 'You know you want it.'

Given Bigelow's experience making Strange Days, it is extremely possible that The Hurt Locker, a film about a bomb disposal unit in Iraq, will be important, powerful and harrowing.

Its tagline is 'You'll know it when you're in it'.

Fashionable

Juergen Teller's photograph of Victoria Beckham for a Marc Jacobs ad:

Horse and Hound

Scientists may one day establish that there is a symbiotic link between the nation’s anxiety and the ubiquity of Clare Balding.

The former champion amateur jockey likes to describe herself as a ‘mobile anchor’. She said ‘instead of having people brought to me, I’m going out there to find them. It’s a bit woo and a bit wee, if you like’.

On Saturday, she ticked yet another box on her impressively varied CV when she became the first racing journalist to present the Grand National. As a veteran of Crufts, she had no trouble coping with the well-groomed. Moreover, interviewing a gleeful jockey is probably a lot easier than presenting a rosette to a Giant Schnauzer.

However, she doesn’t quite show up everywhere. As yet, her varied experience does not include presenter duties on Scruffts, a dog show for crossbreeds that swaps grand titles such as ‘Best of Breed’, ‘Best Puppy’ and ‘Best In Show’ for ‘Golden Oldie’, Child’s Best Friend’ and ‘Prettiest Bitch’. For a former President of the Cambridge Union Society, that wouldn’t be the done thing.

Clearly, ‘the mobile anchor’ remains embedded in the bedrock of the establishment. A glance through some of her considerable achievements reveals plenty of opportunities for ‘woo and wee’: the Lord Mayor’s Show, Trooping the Colour, Ramblings and Housecall in the Country are all broadcasts that are deemed suitable for Clare’s wax-jacket.

The events and the clothing are important. In these times of uncertainty, the BBC is thinking of its viewers’ health. It is mindful not to induce a phenomenon such as White Coat Syndrome, in which patients can have higher blood pressure in the doctor’s office than they do at home. So, to ease the nation’s hypertension as the credit crunch starts to bite, they up the dosage of Clare Balding’s wardrobe.

There may be an erosion of civil liberties caused by the threat of terrorism but look – here’s a nice, reassuring, white middle class person in a wax coat, surrounded by greenery, so let’s all peel an apple. The country lurching towards the Conservatives, you say? Fine – time for even more Clare, as she has a vague look of a crossbreed between Sir Geoffrey Howe and Baroness Thatcher.

Balding may not present the coverage of the collapse of Northern Rock, but she will be there, hosting the racing, hoping our horse comes in.

Medical Experts Recommend Reading No More Than 2 Scare Stories A Week

According to scientists at the University of Pennsylvania drinking lots of water is of little benefit to heath.

Another headline this week proclaims that caffeine benefits the brain.

I must need coffee as I'm confused by the amount of conflicting health advice but, for the moment, I have a more pressing dilemma: it's lunch time, I'm hungry and I'm staring at a corn beef sandwich.

Do I call for back-up?

Companion Animals

Tokyo has found a new fad. At the Cat Café Calico, punters with a yearning for some feline contact can pay 800 yen a hour to spend time with 14 well groomed cats, as long as the humans are prepared to go through an extensive hygiene ritual.

One heavy user, 32 year-old system engineer Kazunori Hamanaka, has found great comfort from the café. On an average visit, he will take over 200 pictures for his blog. Apparently stray cats are camera shy as they run away when he tries to stroke them. He said of the cafe: “It’s really soothing. Even three hours is not enough.”

I am currently house-sitting for my brother and am sharing a four bedroom house with a Barney, a black cat with an abscess on its anus. I am not finding it particularly soothing although it might be good for my diet: on the first morning I came downstairs to find ‘Barnes’ whisker-deep in my pork’ n herb chipolatas.

Although I am not anti-cat, I can understand why someone has created http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bUlE3_vm9jA

Admittedly, I prefer dogs (why does no-one state they prefer goldfish to budgies?) but I would not go as far as http://the-sunshinegirl.blogspot.com/ , although if that is your walk in the sunshine, feel free to leave her a “tail wag”.

As I roam from room to empty room, I can understand the need for contact. In Tokyo, a lot of apartments are the size of kennels. There is also the problem of developing crowd sickness, in which individuals feel overexposed to the white noise of their fellow man. In those conditions, to stop them having a ’Network’ moment, I can appreciate the ritualised need for shampooed cats and well ironed comics.

However, move the occupant from the dog-house to a ghost house and the experience of finding claw marks on your mouse mat is not so soothing. Obviously, the perfect solution is to convert my brother’s house into a Cat Café. He won’t mind and my nieces have plenty of comics. Other people would spend time with the mog, I would make some money and have a chin-wag with the mugs.

At the moment, just having one cat would make it a hard sell but I intend to rectify that tonight. I have a bin-bag, a ski-mask and a polo mallet. I will bag some cats or get arrested. Either way, I’ll have some social contact.

It is Nigh

It started in a Funeral Home in North Syracuse, New York and it has now reached Southampton. The manager of the English city’s crematorium, Trevor Mathieson, defended the decision to offer £75 webcasts of its ceremonies.

He said: “It’s not as if we’re Sky and broadcasting Premier League football. We’re not putting the services on to the internet for anyone to watch. It’s all about offering a better service to people who are bereaved”

Families who pay the £75 are given a user name and a password. This then enables the mourners to sit on their arses in a harlequin ‘Just Do It!’ T-shirt, praying that their processor doesn’t suffer a catastrophic failure and thus prevents them from marking the end of a loved one’s life with the lowering of a laptop’s screen.

For those whose technological needs are not fully met, they can also purchase a DVD for £50 and an audio recording (move over pod, it’s time for the CasketCast) for a mere £25. It is not known if the DVD includes ‘special features’ but it can only be a matter of time before we see a list of ‘Deleted Jewellery’, ‘Extended Tears’, and ‘The Burning of Teddy’ appearing on a disc entitled ‘The Cremulator’.

All of these exciting developments could have interesting knock-on effects in both this world and the next. As they view the climax to the tragedy, the couch-based bereaved may feel that their need for emotional catharsis is not fully met. This may cause the reappearance of ‘mutes’ and ‘professional mourners’. Not seen since the 19th century, (Southampton? Citation needed) these career choices for both the clinically depressed and obsessive face-clawers would enliven any webcast cremation.

Similarly, for those who believe in an afterlife, they may have to accept that the deceased’s preferred plane of existence remains the virtual world. Who would blame the freed souls if, on learning of the webcast of their cremation, they decide to outsource some of their interest in their surviving friends and play Second AfterLife instead?

Why would the Angels in Heaven bother trying to follow the lives of the living when it is presumably possible to simply set up an email inbox and flick through titles such as ‘It is What He Would Have Wanted’, ‘It Was a Nice Quiet Service’ and ‘Just Who The Hell Was That Guy Who Dad Left His Fishing Trophies To?’.

“The Kingdom of God is within you” – Henry Ward Beecher

Care in the Community

Pupils at the Dragon School in Oxford are being given philanthropy lessons. As its fees for a year’s education are more than £20,000 a year, the headmaster argues that many are likely to be in positions of leadership.

He wants to encourage ‘responsibility beyond their own self-interest’. If the lessons help his school pass the Charity Commission’s new ‘public benefit’ test, that is simply a handy, tax-deductible, by-product and one that won’t force the establishment to offer places to any students whose parents don’t have the required assets.

Supervison and Security

A recent ‘Guardian’ piece explains the term ‘helicopter parents’, so-called because they hover over their children, interfering and directing their lives in a way that would embarrass standard pushy parents.

According to Paul Redmond, Head of Careers at Liverpool University, ‘Several high-profile graduate recruitments have reported incidents where parents have contacted them to negotiate a starting salary. Others have had parents contact them to complain about a ‘child’ who has been overlooked for promotion.

Here are ten other types of parent to look out for:

The Stealth Bomber – Mostly provides undetected parenting, but with little respect for personal boundaries. Can take child by surprise with dropping of emotional nuclear bombs.

The Bus – Open-door parents, whose ‘all-aboard’ attitude is great for the community but sometimes leaves offspring with ‘standing room only’ and hanging on to straps.

Cycle – practical and healthy, less good for intimacy needs. Leaves offspring with confusing ‘you’re on your own’ philosophy and hated by children of ‘cars’.

The Seg-Way – Will spearhead new and innovative approaches to child development, even at the cost of mass ridicule. Can come across as misguided, well-off, hippies who need more sarcastic friends.

Yacht – calm, relaxing parents that provide a stable environment for healthy development but are reliant on outside forces for direction and power.

‘Orse ‘n Cart – plodding, dour parenting, enlivened by the enjoyment of an outdoor lifestyle and a ‘get your finger out’ approach. Tend to produce un-ambitious children with permanently damaged subconscious / nasal passages.

The submarine – patrols offspring unseen, only surfacing at times of great emergency. Sometimes responsible for otherwise inexplicable disappearance of girl / boyfriends.

Coach – no thrills. Delivers children to destination adulthood intact, if with a few stops along the way; but they may feel slightly ill and have a nagging sense of emotional hunger.

Tube - can be efficient but prone to regular breakdowns. Produce competitive kids that are voracious readers but with inability to make eye contact.

Unicycle – Erratic parents whose eccentricity entertains outsiders but they terrorize those in close proximity, i.e. the kids. Prone to changing direction and bruised tibias.

There's One Caught Every Minute

Cheats, eh? You gotta love ‘em: they provide a wonderful boost for supporters of the idea that the world changes but human nature remains the same.

Poker has always attracted them. Marked cards, labeled ‘advantage tools’, were advertised in newspapers (presumably not in the ‘Sporting Goods’ section). The more adventurous might progress to ‘Lazy Tongues’. These wonderfully cranky contraptions were inserted in the sharper’s sleeve and could whisk away unwanted cards and substitute aces. Unfortunately, if the lever was pressed at the wrong time, the tongue could punch the mark in the gut as they were shaking hands.

Years on and cheats still provide belly laughs. Sholem J. Weisner, 26, of Brooklyn, New York, has recently been rumbled using advantage tools in the Mohegan Sun Casino during a game of Texas hold ‘em.

Poker won’t miss him: it’s difficult to achieve legendary status if you can’t detect the security differences between a modern casino and a paddle boat frothing up the Mississippi in the 1840s.

Caught in his hotel room with $55,000, the not-so-sharper is charged with cheating, larceny and criminal trespass. He was available neither for comment nor for a part in Ocean’s 14.

Payback Poker

You’re at the poker table, raking in pots. You’re cool, sophisticated and you swing in your chair, secure in the knowledge that you’re the best there.

You call a raise and see another flop. Ah, the perfect double date: KQ, top two. Check to the raiser. Pot sized bet? Pah! Let’s go all in. He calls, the action blurs and the money ships to him. He had pocket jacks and caught a third rogue on the river. The pigeon, ‘madforit17’, types ‘lucky me’ in the chat. His shirt is probably Hawaiian. Your light goes out, the world turns, the game moves on, you’ve read ‘em and wept.

Annoyed? There might be an outlet for those feelings of injustice, one that does not involve a complicated revenge fantasy and ravenous penguins.

Last weekend saw the first ‘scalp’ tournament at the Paddy Power Irish Open. Players prepared to pony up the €330 entrance fee earned a €30 bounty every time they busted an opponent. It’s an exciting new development, already picked up by online poker. Just when the fish thought it was safe to return to the river: Poker II: The Scalp – This Time It’s Personal.

Check Out

It’s all happening in Australia. Someone is changing jobs. But who? Here’s a clue:

Writer Nelson Algren suggests ‘Never play cards with a man named Doc’. Well, we need to include a man with a nametag that states, ‘Hi, I’m Darren - I’m happy to help you’.

Darren Booth, a 19 year old, part time supermarket worker, has gone from bags to riches by wheeling away the $91,000 1st prize in the Adelaide Hold ‘em championship at the Skycity casino.

He won his share of the $340,000 pool, beating a smattering of TV known pros, including 2005 WSOP winner, Aussie Joe Hachem. Impressed? It gets better - he had to win his seat by playing regional tournaments.

As Hatchem gushed, ‘It is fantastic that a young man, playing his first tournament, triumphs’

The shelf stacker started playing poker only recently, so his game was unblemished by crippling fears of outrageous breaches of probability. (Ed – too much personal pain.) He even had the humility to return to work the next day, but his future will surely amount to more than a stack of beans. It could be fame, fortune and his own Wikipedia page. Australia heralds a new dawn.

The Man Everyone's Watching

Guess who’s back?

Yes, that’s right, you got it, it’s former US Senator Alfonse D’Amato!

Since being prised from the US taxpayer’s payroll, he’s developed various ways of keeping his tonsils in the limelight, so it was no surprise he found the media when at the recent Vegas Global Gaming Expo trade show. It takes a certain type of personality to attract attention when surrounded by must-have consumer goodies showcased in America’s playground but, boy is Alf the man!

Bravely speaking against the advice of his spin doctor, he said he expects online poker to be reinstated in its US homeland by 2009.

Don’t want to hold your breath? Neither did the ex-Senator. His blether continued and hinted that imminent sanctions by the World Trade Organisation would shovel on the pressure to Congress to fold their unpopular anti-online gaming hand.

Word, words, words as Hamlet would have it. But wait! Alfonso is not just about boosting his media profile. Oh dearie me, no. He’s the political poster boy of the Poker Players’ Alliance and lobbies for legislation of its favourite card game. With camera conscious Alf in our corner, the Senate’s loss could yet be poker’s gain.

Once in a Lifetime or Every Tea-time

Let’s make sure London leaves a proper lasting legacy after the 2012 Olympics. So far, the logo has been mocked and the stadium labelled functional and boring. We need to create an event to give the worldwide audience a taste of what it’s like to live in this great city in the 21st century.

The marathon won’t suffice. Yes, it highlights the architecture but the streets are cordoned off. It’s like looking at the lycra kit without the athlete or a wallet without the cash and cards. It cannot convey the psychology of the city. We need something else.

To have an event recognised by the IOC, it must promote ‘a peaceful society concerned with the preservation of human dignity.’ Perfect. Let’s nominate a walk during central London’s rush hour. What activity better fits the Olympic motto of ‘Faster, Higher, Stronger?’

With a speed that would have participants sectioned in the countryside, it will give spectators a true, bustling, taste of London. TV helicopter shots could capture this flowing beauty, a site to rival the Tour De France’s peloton in full flow.

Competitors are awarded points for assertiveness, aesthetic merit and self-absorption. Judges will also look for the maintenance of an impassive, uninterested facial expression.
Athletes will have to combine pace with intuitive grace as they slide their shoulders away from incoming people and trudge ever forward. Coaches can train competitors to accept a free newspaper without losing momentum. Points are deducted if the walk is briefly interrupted and Olympians go toe to toe with any ‘tutting’ males.

Athletes will then reach the tube line having performed disciplines such as cancelling a tai-chi class and carrying a skinny latte raised over the head, a cardboard beacon to the Olympian ideal. Bonus points are available on the downward escalator for recognising flirtation, awareness of advertising and tipping buskers whilst staving off a category five panic attack.

By the end of their ordeal, the competitors will have a far greater understanding of London life. It would generate a better legacy than any commerative coin. If the Dutch sport Korfball can be recognised as an Olympic event partly because it guarantees a ‘full range of intense emotion’, I feel we are onto a winner. Inspired by Beijing’s slogan of ‘Light the Passion, Share the Dream’, we could offer ‘Fight the Crowds, Share the Tension’. With only 1708 days to go, it’s time to start lobbying.

Hmmm

This story will now replace the cross-eyed bear in my nightmares:

BEIJING, China

A man in southern China appears to have died of exhaustion after a three-day Internet gaming binge, state media said Monday.

The 30-year-old man fainted at a cyber cafe in the city of Guangzhou Saturday afternoon after he had been playing games online for three days, the Beijing News reported.

Paramedics tried to revive him but failed and he was declared dead at the cafe, it said. The paper said that he may have died from exhaustion brought on by too many hours on the Internet.

The report did not say what the man, whose name was not given, was playing.
The report said that about 100 other Web surfers "left the cafe in fear after witnessing the man's death."

China has 140 million Internet users, second only to the U.S.. It is one of the world's biggest markets for online games, with tens of millions of players, many of whom hunker down for hours in front of PCs in public Internet cafes.

Several cities have clinics to treat what psychiatrists have dubbed "Internet addiction" in users, many of them children and teenagers, who play online games or surf the Web for days at a time.

Just the Comparisons, Ma'am

Andrew Marr brings his Scottish eyes to a new series on Radio 4 called 'Unmasking The English', broadcast on Mondays at 9am and also archived online.

The first programme proceeded along predictable lines by including references to Jerusalem and attitudes to sporting humiliations but, after twenty minutes, Marr produced a gem.

After a slight ramble about the history of English amateurism, he warned against rumours of its demise.

'For', he said authoritatively, 'Boris Johnson is Miss Marple'.