This month Ten Things returns to being more personal with 10 Places I Have No Desire To Go:
- South Africa (in fact anywhere in Africa except possibly Madagascar)
- Saudi Arabia
- Pakistan
- Mexico
- Argentina
- Australia
- Philippines
- Indonesia
- Israel
- Texas
Category Archives: ramblings
Herbally High
At last. Some people who might have some influence are finally getting the message: prohibition doesn’t work. And that by decriminalising and licensing things you can not only control them but you can tax them.
No, for once I’m not talking about sex work. This is about cannabis.
The headline in yesterday’s Guardian read:
Sell cannabis to over-18s in licensed shops, says Lib Dem panel
It isn’t quite the Dutch model, but the recommendations have been put forward by a panel of experts including a couple of top cops.
The article is worth a read.
Bathtime
There was an interesting article in yesterday’s Guardian which bears out something I have long thought. It begins …
I shower once a week. Here’s why you should too.
Daily showering is expensive, polluting and unnecessary. The old-school weekly bath or shower — with a brief daily sink-wash — is healthier for the environment, and for us.
When I was a kid, bathtime was a once-a-week affair. We weren’t an unhygienic family — this is just how most of us lived in the 1960s, and I do not remember any horrific body odours resulting from it. By the time I was an adult, I was showering every day. With hindsight, I should have stuck to the old ways.
Indeed so, although in my family bathtime was twice a week, at least for me. If nothing else heating water was inconvenient and expensive in the days before ubiquitous central heating.
As a student I did shower every morning, and often more than once a day as I was playing lots of cricket, squash etc. Otherwise I actually have stuck to my childhood regime. Although it’s a bit more flexible now (partly down to lifestyle and partly as there’s easy hot water) I seldom shower more than a couple of times a week. And even then one seldom needs to spend more than 5 minutes in the shower (according to the article the average shower lasts 10 minutes).
(Now I’m not working, I also seldom shave more than every few days. I can’t stand more than 5 or 6 days beard, but shaving every day gives me far more skin problems.)
Did anyone notice? No of course you didn’t. Most of us don’t lead very dirty lives. Few these days work in dirty industry, down the mines or shovelling muck on the farm — when I concede that a daily bath or shower, after work, would be essential.
Yes, I like that nice, clean, scrubbed and pampered feeling a shower gives you; especially if you can then dive under lovely crisp, fresh bed-linen. It’s pleasant. But it isn’t essential. And on its own it isn’t a good reason for a daily shower (or two).
This is one area where we could go back in time without actually feeling any inconvenience. It would save massive amounts of water; and you would save on the cost of heating that water — both of which would be good for the environment as well as your wallet. On top of which you would probably save some time; and it might actually be better for your skin. That sounds like WIN-WIN to me!
Oh and here’s another take on the question from a plumbing supplier.
RoboLit
There was a brilliant piece in last Monday’s Guardian in which Stephen Moss asks what robots might learn from our literature. I give you a sample:
[A] new generation of robots combining artificial intelligence with great physical power may not … wipe us out after all. We can be friends, united in a common appreciation of Middlemarch. But a less sunny outlook is suggested by … the Shepton Mallet School of Advanced Hermeneutics [who] fed the entire world’s literature into a robot (called HOMER16) fitted with a high-powered computer; preliminary results are worrying.
Here are some extracts from the HOMER16’s initial readings.
Hamlet: Dithering prince with unhinged girlfriend demonstrates how dangerous it is not to act decisively. Interminable and convoluted plot obstructs the central message that your enemies should be dispatched quickly, brutally and mercilessly. Cannot compute the meaning of the strange “To be or not to be” speech. In what sense is that the question?
A Clockwork Orange: Frightening study that shows the extent to which a love of classical music can damage the human brain. The works of Beethoven seem to be especially dangerous. Fail to understand why this material is still played, even on radio stations that very few people listen to.
The New Testament: Ludicrous set of stories in which the sick are miraculously healed, fishes and loaves materialise from nowhere, and a young man comes back to life after being executed. The telling by four narrators is interestingly postmodern, but the plot is too ludicrous to hold the attention. Could not compute the long introduction called The Old Testament, which seemed very dull and repetitious.
À la Recherche du Temps Perdu: A book in need of an editor about a protagonist in need of a psychiatrist. Good on the dangerous consequences of eating cake.
[With thanks to Julian Miller.]
NHS. Unaffordable? I don't think so.
There was an interesting article in yesterday’s Guardian from Neena Modi in which she attacks the myth that the NHS is unaffordable.
The NHS is not unaffordable, as anyone with half an ounce of common sense can see.
The NHS has shed-loads of money to do everything you and I would want it to. It just uses that money inappropriately and wastefully — often as a result of political intervention.
Neena Modi gives some good examples (I am assuming the figures in her article are accurate):
PFI repayments (that’s money the politicians made the NHS “borrow” from the private sector) cost around £10bn a year.
Virgin Care, who have some large NHS clinical contracts, admit to an 8% profit target. That’s another £1.6bn a year — and that’s just on the estimated £20bn of contracts awarded to the private sector in 2013-14.
The NHS is complex. We understand that; in many ways it has to be. But that doesn’t excuse another £640m being spent on management consultants.
Then the politicians introduced this thing called the “internal market” (everyone bidding against each other for a set amount of work). That is reckoned to cost somewhere between £4.5bn and £10bn a year to administer.
And how much is the NHS being told it has to save over the next few years? Did I hear £30bn? Well OK, let’s call it £22bn after the government has pledged (not yet paid!) an additional £8bn.
BINGO! Add up the savings above (let’s take the minimum figures from above) and we get … Yes, a whopping £16.7bn the NHS is spending *each year* that it should not be.
And that’s without allowing for all the wastage of medicines, dressings, supplies etc. Without any account for the multi-layers of unnecessary management. Without thousands of administrators who, whenever I visit a hospital or clinic appear to be ambling around carrying a single piece of paper. Without the countless project managers and IT specialists who can’t; so major improvement programmes fail. Without continual reorganisation and re-branding creating unnecessary jobs and work.
If we could get rid of all that — and we could, if the will was there — we could not only save the required £30bn but also pay the junior doctors a decent salary to work responsible hours.
Or even better … plough back those savings to improve the quality of the care delivered from fit for purpose buildings.
It needs a really tough businessman at the top. One who will tell the politicians to “f*** off” and let him run the show. And then restructure and rebalance the whole organisation to run on the people who genuinely have the right vision. It wouldn’t be pretty, or comfortable and it couldn’t be done overnight; but it would work. If Mussolini could get the trains to run on time…
Why is this so hard? Oh sorry, it doesn’t line anyone’s pockets with gold. That’s why!
We’re doomed. FFS!
Ten Things
There’s an old curse which goes “may you live in interesting times”. But of course that can work both ways; we always do live in interesting times, but not necessarily for the negative reasons the curse implies. Sometimes the interestingness is goodness.
As a reflection of this, and because in the last month I’ve become a state-registered geriatric, I thought we’d have an historical “ten things” this month.
So here are 10 UK Historical Events in My Lifetime:
- Margaret Thatcher becomes the first female British Prime Minister (1979)
- Death of Winston Churchill (1965)
- Accession of Elizabeth II (1952)
- Britain joins the European Economic Community (as the EU then was) (1973)
- Falklands War (1982)
- Roger Bannister runs first sub-4 minute mile (1954)
- Profumo Affair (1963)
- Great Train Robbery (1963)
- Voting age lowered to 18 (1969)
- Decimalisation of coinage (1971)
Thinking Thursday #5 Answer
This week in Thinking Thursday I asked you to find the next number in the sequence:
Who discovered that it is 311 311 222 113?
If you did, then well done!
So how do you get there?
Well this is what’s known as a look-and-say sequence in which each term is constructed by describing the previous term.
So if we start with the number 3, the next term is “one 3” as the previous number contains just one of the number three. So now we have 3, 13.
And the third number describes the second number, hence it is “one 1, one 3” or 1113, which we wrote as 1 113 just to throw you off the scent a bit. We now have 3, 13, 1 113.
Similarly, number four is constructed from number three: “three 1s, one 3”; or 3 113, giving us the sequence 3, 13, 1 113, 3 113. And so on.
But do you notice something else about this sequence? Yes, that’s right, the last number is always 3. In fact that’s true for any look-and-say sequence which starts with an integer between 0 and 9 — the last digit of each term will always be the starting number.
What I didn’t know was that the look-and-say sequence was introduced and analysed by the British mathematician John Conway who is still alive, and who also invented the Game of Life.
Good fun!
Get a Life
We all know the Chief Medical Officer, Sally Davies, is on the warpath against alcohol. And she is on record as saying to Parliamentary Committee this week:
I would like people to make their choice knowing the issues and do as I do when I reach for my glass of wine and think, “Do I want my glass of wine or do I want to raise my risk of breast cancer?” And I take a decision each time I have a glass.
Christopher Snowdon calls it well in the Spectator on Wednesday:
She insists that she weighs up this trade-off every time she takes a drink. Just think about that. This is how she lives her life …
There is a distinction between understanding risk and being so preoccupied with death that you can’t pour a glass of wine without thinking about tumours. Cross that line and you enter a dark realm inhabited by neuroticism, unhappiness and the Chief Medical Officer …
… whatever she throws at us in the years ahead, always remember that if you are able to crack open a bottle of booze without dwelling on thoughts of cancer, you have already beaten her at the game of life.
If she was as intellectually acute as she would like to have us believe she would know that the change in risk of breast cancer before age 75 is around 9.5%, rising to perhaps 10.6% with the consumption of alcohol. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that this is about a 10% risk regardless. And while technically it may be statistically significant (though it doesn’t look it from here) it’s unlikely to be emotionally significant to the vast majority. After all there is something called “quality of life” — something the CMO seems not to have.
Former Tory minister Lord Tebbit has also waded in (Daily Mail; 21 January):
[He] ridiculed her latest ‘drink tea instead of wine’ edict, saying: ‘The Chief Medical Officer regards a quiet glass of sherry as too risky to contemplate. Poor creature. She must shudder in her shoes at the risks taken every Sunday morning by celebrants at Holy Communion sipping at the Communion wine. As I look forward to my 85th birthday in the spring, and my brother’s 89th in the autumn, she is unlikely to persuade me to desist from my nightly half-bottle, or he from his.’
Quite so. This very well connected and wealthy female appears to think we’re as stupid as she is a miserable control freak.
Besides, remember: Research causes cancer in rats.
Thinking Thursday #5
We haven’t had a “Thinking Thursday” post since before Christmas so it’s time for a bit more fun.
3, 13, 1 113, 3 113, 132 113, 1 113 122 113, ?
What is the next number in the sequence?
As always there’s no prize except the fun of getting it right. But if you want to show off by putting your answer in the comments, then that’s fine with me!
Answer on Sunday evening, as usual.
Oh, and of course, there’s no cheating!
Weirdness Alone
I’m spending this week home alone as Noreen is doing a week’s consultancy work in Derbyshire. I was originally going to go with her, just to get a week away, but it was decided — for all sorts of reasons — it would make more sense for me to stay here.
We are not impressed. We aren’t used to having to “do for ourselves” these days; we expect our slaves to be there on demand.
As a very minimum we need intravenous tea.
And I keep having to ask questions like “What’s a dishwasher?” and “How do I get into this tin?”.
Well, no, not really. But you get the point.
On the other hand it is sufficiently quiet that I’m also getting quite a bit done, which was part of the intention because, as always, I have mountains of work to do for both the Anthony Powell Society and the two Patient Participation Groups I chair. I managed to kill off lots of jobs yesterday, but there’s still a lot to do.
I’m not doing so well today, though. Firstly I got a phone call this morning summoning me to go to see my doctor as she wants to change my medication. And I also have our friend Tom here replacing some corkboard for us — he’s currently scraping away at the other side of the wall from where I’m sitting.
And while Noreen’s away I’m taking the opportunity to give her laptop the once over — no she decided she wasn’t going to need it so left it behind. (No, I don’t understand how you can survive for a week away without your laptop, either!) Said laptop needs a good clean — both physically and virtually — as well as it needs various updates and changes doing; so this is a good chance. Luckily much of what’s needed can be done between other jobs, otherwise you just end up watching the proverbial paint dry.
What has really surprised me, though, is how quiet the house is. It isn’t as if Noreen is noisy — if anything I’m the noisy one! But without a second person in the house it is just so quiet — I noticed it as soon as Noreen went out the front door before daybreak yesterday morning. You could almost hear a pin drop. Suddenly the house was quiet and different, even before I got out of bed, as if it knows it is alone.
Needless to say the cat is confused too. But then she’s not a creature of routine and often lays low for hours at a stretch — especially with Tom in the house as he’s the bringer of noise and pusser-eating machines.
It all just feels weird.
But, barring intervention by The Kindly Ones, it’s only until Friday evening.