Race equality

As if it wasn't bad enough how precious little science coverage there is in the media, we are now treated to the following:

BBC: Women 'may outsprint men by 2156'
Women sprinters may be outrunning men in the 2156 Olympics if they continue to close the gap at the rate they are doing, according to scientists. An Oxford University study found that women are running faster than they have ever done over 100m. At their current rate of improvement, they should overtake men within 150 years, said Dr Andrew Tatum.

Have you ever heard such nonsense in your life?

When I was born, I was less than 2 ft tall. My father was over 6 ft. I am now well over 5 ft tall, but my father is the same old 6 ft. By the same logic as the tosh quoted above, if I continue to close the gap at the rate I have been, I should be taller than my father in a few years' time, and should be at least 35 ft tall by the end of the century. Similarly, we can expect to drive to the 2156 Olympics in our solar-powered cars at speeds well in excess of the speed of light (although how the solar light will ever manage to catch these cars once they get going is anyone's guess).

Yes, I'm sure the gap between the best male and female athletes will continue to narrow for a while at least, but what possible reason is there for assuming that it will continue to narrow at a constant rate? Both sexes have already reached the stage where sprinting world records are broken by mere hundredths of a second; something tells me that male athletes are not going to be standing round, kicking their heels, while the women knock whole seconds off their own records.

Having said all that, to be fair:

…Dr Tatem said: "We are not saying categorically that women will overtake the men but we think there is a chance and we have put this up for discussion.

Thanks, Dr Tatem. For what it's worth, please accept the above as my contribution to the stupid discussion.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

BBC: Donny Osmond makes chart return
Singer Donny Osmond has scored his first solo top 10 single in over 30 years with new song Breeze On By.

The last time Donny Osmond was that high up in the charts, my sense of humour was so highly developed that I referred to him as Donkey Os-pong.

Actually, come to think of it, it's still quite funny.

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More weighty matters

BBC: Israel warning on Jerusalem site
An Israeli minister has warned that part of a holy site in Jerusalem sacred to both Muslims and Jews may collapse beneath the weight of worshippers.

Sounds to me as if it's not just the Christians who've been eating a bit too much chocolate.

What will the BBC's next weight-related religious news headline be, do you reckon? He ain't heavy; he's my Buddha, perhaps, or Jesus is Light.

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Sweet Jesus!

Compare and contrast:

BBC: Sweet temptation back to church
The Church of England is launching a pilot scheme to attract people back to church - by offering a bar of chocolate to every worshipper.

Tom Waits: Chocolate Jesus
Don't go to church on Sunday
Don't get on my knees to pray
Don't memorize the books of the Bible
I got my own special way

But I know Jesus loves me
Maybe just a little bit more
I fall on my knees every Sunday
At Zerelda Lee's candy store

Well it's got to be a chocolate Jesus
Make me feel good inside
Got to be a chocolate Jesus
Keep me satisfied…

Portent

Driving to work shortly before sunrise this morning, I saw the most spectacular shooting star I've ever seen.

If there is anything at all in astrology, then this must surely be a starry messenger. Something big was about to go down.

And then it did:

BBC: Cold weather cools Cadbury sales
A wet summer has put the dampers on drinks sales at the world's biggest confectionery group, Cadbury Schweppes. Its European drinks business was hit by the rain and cold, forcing the group to lower its expectations for profits this year. Cadbury, which sells 7UP, Dr Pepper and Orangina, was particularly hit by poor sales in France and Spain.

Who'd have thought it? The fortunes of the company whose great chocolate rival brought us Mars and Milky Way bars foretold by a shooting star. Who says God doesn't do irony? Mark my words, it's the dawn of a new era.

…But hang on a second. Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps the shooting star of doom was foretelling this:

BBC: Prince Harry set for army career
Prince Harry will join the Army in early 2005 after passing his Sandhurst entrance exams, Clarence House has said. Obstacle courses, medicals and planning exercise were included in the Regular Commissions Board four-day test. The 20-year-old, who is third in line to the throne, will begin training to be an officer after taking up his place.

…or this:

BBC: Thousands of creatures washed up
Thousands of jellyfish-like creatures have been washed ashore the south Wales coastline. The Velella velella, which is also known as the 'By-the-wind-sailor' looks similar to jellyfish but is actually a colonial hydroid. Strong winds and recent stormy weather has meant that thousands of the creatures have been washed onto beaches in south Wales.

…or this or this or this:

That's the problem with interpreting portents retrospectively (which is something all the best astrologers seem really good at): how does one decide which 'predicted' event to choose?

See also:

Sign of the times

Richard Madley on this evening's Richard & Judy:

Coming up after the break: everything you need to know about surviving a dirty bomb.

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Easy Ryder

BBC:  H O L Y   B L O O D Y   S H I T E ! ! !
Europe's golfers totally snotted the good ol' U.S. of A in the 35th Ryder Cup this evening. Final score (in case you missed it):

USA 9½–18½ Europe

George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Bill Gates, John Wayne, Walt Disney, Richard Feynman, Britney Spears, Quentin Tarantino, Raquel Welch, Davy Crockett, Buzz Aldrin, Malcolm in the Middle, Joe DiMaggio, Arthur Miller, the Magnificent Seven, Bruce Springsteen, George Peppard, Burt Lancaster, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley… CAN YOU HEAR US? Your boys took one hell of a beating!

Looooo-seeeeeers! Looooooooooo-seeeeeers!

(I paraphrase.)

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Puppet President

Bush and Blair

Cards on the table time: I don't like President George W Bush. I don't like him at all. In fact, to be brutally honest, I think he's a dangerous, ill-intentioned buffoon, and any American considering voting for him later this year is an asshat.

But that's quite enough shrewd political commentary for the time being; what I want to talk about is President George W Bush's walk.

I have a very simple question:

Is it just my imagination, or has the most powerful man on the planet got a totally mincey walk?

Dictionary.com: mince
v. intr: To walk with very short steps or with exaggerated primness.

Just look at him the next time he's on telly: he moves like a bloody Thunderbirds puppet. He holds his arms slightly raised, and swings them totally out of synch with his legs—legs with which he takes ridiculously short (and, it has to be said, prim) steps. He looks completely stupid. It's embarrassing to watch.

In other words, not only can't George W talk the talk, he can't even walk the walk.

(I'm really not making this up, I promise. Just watch him.)

…Oh, yes, and while I'm at it, has anyone else noticed that the UK Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown, always talks as if he's trying to prevent a Fox's Glacier Mint from popping out of his mouth?

Domesticated

Stense recently moved into the very first house of her own. Until then, she had lived in numerous rented accommodations. This evening, we had a big chin-wag on the phone about this and that, and I started telling her about Jen's and my plans for our own home:

Me: …And then we're going to knock through into the dining room and… Bloody hell, Stense, I can't believe I'm actually talking to you about home improvement!
Stense: And I can't believe I'm actually finding it interesting!

Ms Fitz

Fitz and Ms Fitz

My bald friend Fitz tied the knot yesterday. He married a lady known to me as Moley, although it turns out most other people call her Madeleine (which is a damn stupid nickname for someone named Moley, if you ask me).

My role was official photographer (weddings, bar mitzvahs, and chicks with spoons on their noses a speciality). Shown above is a snap I took on my digital camera towards the end of proceedings (you can tell, can't you?). The proper photos were captured on good, old-fashioned, reliable film—a bit Twentieth Century maybe, but still superior to digital for a couple of years yet, I reckon. Besides, I know what I'm doing with film (I hope!)

I suppose, now she's married to Fitz, Moley will have to be referred to as Ms Fitz, as in social Ms Fitz.