Heavy Metal Schrodinger's Cat

As an anti-neighbour-cat precaution, Hayley's dad sets his cat flap to one-way, allowing his cat (called Cat) to exit the house but not come back in.

Several times this week we've been woken at around 3am by Cat miaowing outside our house to be let in, necessitating me getting up, walking over to Hay's dad's house and letting her in with our key (Hay's dad is partially deaf, so a miaowing cat has no effect on him whatsoever).

While talking about this last night with Hay, I suggested Cat should be given her own door key, which prompted a call to Hay's sister (the family artist) to commission a cartoon for Hay's Dad's Christmas card. It will depict Cat, Kitty, Blackberry and Orange (the latter 2 being the neighbours' cats) forming a feline pyramid outside Hay's dad's back door so Cat can reach up and insert the key in the door.

Did you know that Schrodinger's cat was called Milton? Next time someone mentions Schrodinger's cat you can say: "You mean Milton?"

Last night we went through our usual Friday night ritual - dinner at some local pub, followed by watching some Vintage TV. Last night it was Heavy Metal, which I can't say I'm a great fan of (and no, Led Zep is not an HM band). There was the usual lineup of Motorhead, Slayer, Black Sabbath (without Ozzie), Judas Priest, etc.. What I'd like to see, which would be quite radical, is Motorhead et al playing a session dressed in dinner jackets or looking like the Mike Flowers Pops.

Good Old NHS

The Ebola story is showing how good the NHS actually is.

Yes, you get the odd story about a hospital here and there failing, but that's to be expected within a system where hospitals are actually accountable. The fact this comes to light is a strength of the system.

The NHS is a national system and therefore has at its heart something called strategy, or joined-up thinking, as we experts call it. When a national health threat materialises, we in the UK get a nationwide policy and not the disjointed response prevalent in the USA.

Americans are far more likely to be wiped out by an epidemic than Brits due to oversight there being primarily at the state level.

We should do all we can to prevent governments of any hue selling off the NHS and putting it in the hands of multiple private entities with competition and profit being the prime motive.

Oh, I forgot - the Americans are great believers in God, so a prayer or two should protect them. You never know, they may actually turn to science - there are no religious people in epidemic foxholes.

Religious Tolerance

Tony Blair is calling for religious toleration to be taught in schools across the world to prevent radicalisation.

The "incubators of radicalism" need to be confronted, he argues, to prevent the spread of ideas that "warp young and unformed minds".

Does he mean ideas like religion itself - ideas that people cling to with no evidence whatsoever? That's the home, where kids are first inducted into the woo-woo world of religion at the knees of their mothers and fathers.

Just asking...

X Factor Diversity Training

Overheard by Hay at work during diversity training:

Pakistani Trainer: "I have to go to Friday prayers."

Female Trainee: "So where do you go for that?"

Trainer: "A local mosque."

Female Trainee: "What, any old mosque?"

Trainer: "Yup."

Female Trainee: "Can anyone go? Can I go?"

Trainer: "No, not unless you have your husband's permission and he's a moslem."

Trainee: "Hang on, what's this training we're doing?"

Trainer: "......."

We were forced to watch the last few minutes of what looked like the X Factor final last night - at least I assume it was the final (we had the sound turned down) as Downton Abbey was 15 minutes late.

Seems to me the winning formula is either bland, white boy band or Beyonce look-alike. This program just confirms my theory that the public is the worst arbiter of taste, whether that be music, art or indeed anything - but by God, Simon Cowell is a clever chap in using it as a market testing vehicle to make shed-loads of money from the public's execrable taste.

Parking Lancashire Hello Magazine

We were sat in a local cafe yesterday morning in Chipping Sodbury having breakfast. A copy of OK magazine was on the table and I idly started to turn the pages while waiting for our order.

It had the usual spread of stories and massively touched up photos of Peter Andre, Kerry Katona, etc., lounging in their glitzy homes decorated in the most appalling taste imaginable.

It suddenly struck me that magazines such as OK, Hello, etc. are just the opposite pole of magazines like Lancashire Life; the former celebrate pointless celebrities, the latter pointless aristocracy.

I've noticed that the ParkingEye appeals industry is proliferating - spotted a parking ticket appeals organisation that charges £16 per appeal, and they advertise a 100% success rate. Seems a waste of time and money when you can let the buggers take you to court using two basic defence arguments and end up having the case dropped before you even get to court.

These arguments are:

1. It's not their land, thus they can't take you to court anyway - only the owner of the land in question can do that, and
2. They can only claim for what was lost (the price of the ticket) and cannot claim punitive damages.

Admittedly a DIY approach requires some knowledge of court procedures and a bit of time, but having appeared in court several times over domestic matters and having represented myself twice, I'm becoming a dab hand at preparing professional looking court papers.

The Welfare State

For the vast majority of mankind's existence there has been no such thing as the the Welfare State. The tribe shared as necessary and the family unit ensured no-one starved; the lame, the halt and the old were looked after.

That, however, wasn't sufficient to save the Neanderthals when the Cro-Magon people came over via Calais, took all their jobs and put hundreds out of work with their new-fangled efficiency drives, time and motion studies and technology.

In a way, I can be said that the lack of a Welfare State has made man what he is today - the result of Darwinian selection.

Would I sacrifice my descentants' chances of becoming homo-superior or some weird uber-Conservative monstrosity by discontinuing the Darwinian experiment? Damned right I would!

Feast of the ParkingEye Caravans

My masters in Israel are having another of their interminable holidays. This time it's Sukkot (last week it was Jewish New Year).

Sukkot, or the Feast of the Tabernacles, purportedly celebrates the Jewish tribes having camped out in 'The Wilderness' for 40 years some three and a half millenia ago. They just won't let it go...

Hay proposed we have a Feast of the Caravans, an annual celebration of our 5 year sojourn in the caravan while the house was being built.

Regular readers will know I have been battling ParkingEye since April over a £100 plus parking 'fee'. Well, I prepared my professional-looking 100 page defence for the small claims court, consisting primarily of transcripts of previous rulings against them on the basis of:

1. I paid - they didn't issue a ticket (as well as admitting one of the pay stations was not working properly on the day in question), thus they are in breach of contract,
2. As they are not owners of the land concerned, they cannot take me to court - under contract law, the landowner is the only person who can sue, and
3. Under contract law, they cannot charge punitive amounts, only actual losses - i.e. £2.20.

This was posted to ParkingEye on Saturday. On Monday I received a letter telling me that in the interests of saving court costs, if I stumped up £50 they would drop the case.

Yesterday - following their receipt of my defence - they sent a letter telling me they are dropping the case completely.

My advice - don't kow-tow to bully-boy tactics. If any of you are facing the same issue, contact me and I'll send you the standard defence.

Southmead Hospital

Had to go to Bristol's new "superhospital", Southmead, yesterday for No.1 Son to have some adjustment on his braces at the maxillofacial unit.

For a start, when building a superhospital it's advisable to have sufficient car-parking facilities for the expected number of visitors. Cars were queuing up to park in the woefully inadequate car-parks - and doubtless patients were missing appointments as a consequence. The NHS should perhaps have consulted Tesco on how to construct a multi-storey car-park. Added to which, the minimum fee is £3 (not that I even got to pay it). The fee was £1 at Frenchay. I simply did what many other visitors did and double parked while my son ventured into the hospital on his own - if you're both the patient and driver, you can't do that.

Secondly, I question the wisdom of having so many departments in a single building. While my son was in the humungous Brunel Building the fire alarm went off and the whole building had to be evacuated. At the old Frenchay Hospital, departments are scattered around a motley agglomeration of buildings, whereby if there's an emergency in one of them, the rest can keep working.

I simply left without my son achieving the appointment and refuse to ever go back to Southmead, unless in an ambulance.

I have enormous respect for the people who work at the front line in the NHS, but they are let down by inadequate planning. Even the consultant dentists don't like the place - they have to park at Frenchay and get bussed in, meaning longer working days.

See here for further info.

When in Rome, Have a Tattoo

Rome today, then home this evening. Given I'm here, I'm thinking of doing what the Romans do (although I'm not 100% certain what that actually entails).

I think I might do something really subversive. You know how middle-class kids, and even a good smattering of our younger aristos have tattoos? To be really subversive and different, I think I'll not get a tattoo. There, how subversive is that these days?

In my youth, tattoos were the preserve of ladies of the street, gentlemen of the road, gypsies, builders, personnel of the armed forces and seafarers of all hues. To have a tattoo when coming from the middle classes was considered really avant-garde and dissident (my old man didn't even see mine till I was in my late 30s or early 40s). Nowadays there's hardly a kid or a 20-something without at least a 3rd of their bodies covered in the damned things.

As a fashion accessory they kind of defeat the object, as they can't be changed next season - you get stuck in a season and the season is guaranteed to change. Tribal markings may be chic and currently in vogue, but as sure as eggs-is-eggs they will make you look very dated in a few years time.

Burmese neck rings as sported by the Kaya people, or some such stupid thing, will become de-rigeur in a few years time. Take those buggers off and you might end up with a lollopy head (although the effect is actually illusory, as it's the collarbone that's pushed down, not the neck that's elongated).

If you're dead set on having a tattoo, do something unique and timeless, not one that you've seen on your mate, who probably saw it on his mate, ad infinitum. Something like LUV & HAT across your knuckles, which will be grazing the ground, is not recommended.

Neither are phrases in some exotic or dead language, unless you've had it checked out by a native speaker (and even then they may be having you on). There's nothing worse than having a Persian phrase tattooed across your forehead, only find out it a bit later that it actually says; "I'm a bit over-fond of the creme-de-menthe", or "I love bacon", however true that might be.

Oh, it also behoves you to get a tattooist who can spell - saves a lot of pain later.

If in doubt, don't! I regret ever having my sailing ship. Had I been a tad more sober, I might have chosen the figurehead from my old school, or possibly the school crest (which actually is a sailing ship, but a nice one).

I think someone over egged the tint on this...

Dr Who On Days Like These II

Well, the drive from Geneva to Milan via Montreaux, Sion and the Simplon Pass is an experience not to be missed - stunning views! There was plenty of Smoke on the Water at Montreaux, but bugger all Fire in the Sky as it was raining most of the way.

I reckon I could get a SqueezyJet flight with the family at sparrow's fart from Bristol to Geneva, grab a hire car and be in Lacchiarella in time for a light lunch at my favourite trattoria and be on a flight back from Milan Malpensa airport by teatime. Might just do that one day.

Actually - I just checked - £178 per person in flights, plus hire car @ £250 (shared), plus a night in the Atahotel Ripamonte @ £62 per person (but don't eat the food there - hideous) and half a tank of diesel @ £40 (shared). Leave Saturday lunchtime and return on the Sunday 3PM flight - home by 5. Family of 3 that's just a touch over £1k without food, and that's cheap enough in Italy. There are probably even cheaper ways of doing it.

Next time I may try the Furka Pass - the one from the memorable scene in Goldfinger where Bond was on a snaking road.

Put the radio on in the French part of Switzerland and was hard pressed to find a station that plays music - these Frenchies do like the sound of their own voices. Once over the Simplon Pass I got the Italian stations, with a lot more music, but it's all sentimental, shmaltzy tripe your mother would listen to  (if she were still alive - and deaf).

Here are some photos (it was awful weather):

I found this in Sion at a Military Megastore.(every town needs one)...

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On the local TV last night they had Dr Who dubbed in Italian. Matt Smith with an incredibly deep voice seems a bit scary.