BBC: Water birth drowning risk
Babies born under water could be at risk of drowning and breathing difficulties, say researchers.
And people get paid for this?
Sports buff
Her Majesty was in the region yesterday to open the Commonwealth Games: individuals from 72 geographical entities (most of them places you've never heard of), competing for recognition as the greatest athlete in the erstwhile British Empire (excluding certain nations who are too stuffy to join the commonwealth - yes, I have you in mind, Ireland!). Hooray!
The thing I hate most about the Commonwealth (and Olympic) Games is the gymnastics. I mean, all that prancing about, waving ribbons, and spinning through hoops. That's not sport!
Distrust any so-called sport that:
- is only done by women,
- is done to music, or
- has points awarded for "artistic merit".
You know the sort of thing I'm talking about: synchronised swimming, netball, ice dancing, most gymnastics... all of them absolute shite.
Having said that, did you know that the word gymnasium comes from the ancient Greek, gunnazein, meaning naked exercise? Now that I'd be prepared to pay to see!
Royal Salute
So, anyway, I'm walking through Liverpool at lunchtime today, when I suddenly come across hundreds of people holding flags, clearly waiting for something... Shit! I'd forgotten the queen was in town. So I head off down James Street to escape the sycophantic mob.
Then I see it: the police car and the Bentley without number plates. I stare in disbelief as Her Majesty and Greek Phil drive past, waving at me (I am the only person on that particular stretch of pavement, so it can only be me they're waving at).
I'm a staunch anti-royalist; I have two seconds to make my mark. What to do? Raise a clenched fist and shout "Power to the people"? Turn my back in disgust? Show them the finger?
Yes, you've guessed it, I waved back (with what I hope was an ironic look on my face).
…Well, she's an old lady, and it's her golden jubilee year. She thought I was a loyal subject. What else could I do?
Beard
Martin Amis
Martin Amis [Guardian]: The voice of the lonely crowd
Since it is no longer permissible to disparage any single faith or creed, let us start disparaging all of them. To be clear: an ideology is a belief system with an inadequate basis in reality; a religion is a belief system with no basis in reality whatever. Religious belief is without reason and without dignity, and its record is near-universally dreadful. It is straightforward - and never mind, for now, about plagues and famines: if God existed, and if He cared for humankind, He would never have given us religion.
Martin Amis is a very good writer. So was his dad.
Stephen Jay Gould (1941-2002)
Science is desperately short of great popularisers. It also needs intelligent sceptics prepared to challenge accepted beliefs. In Stephen Jay Gould, it had both. The world of science is the worse for his loss. More »
Dock Pudding
Hebden Bridge Times: 'Cooking Up a Seasonal Treat'
Trevor and Joan Whitworth knotched (sic) up a hat-tick of victories in the World Dock Pudding Championships on Sunday.
Mr and Mrs Whitworth of Skircoat Green, Halifax, again beat all comers at Mytholmroyd Community Centre to win a special dock pudding plate, the Evening Courier trophy and £30.
Trevor, 64 said: "I was confident we would win because we use the same recipe year after year. It's been good for two years so I expected it to be good for the third."
The retired couple have five children and four grandchildren and usually eat their prize winning meal four or five times a week...
The contest which started back in 1971 involves cooking dock leaves, nettles, onions and oatmeal with a side serving usually consisting of bacon and eggs…
Queen
No, this doesn't mean he's been performing at home.
Ofsted reply
I have now received a reply to my letter to Ofsted about all the recent Gateshead creationist nonsense. The Chief Inspector of Schools sounds like a good chap.
Postscript [04-May]: Me and my big mouth! He's left his job.
Cartoon
Hey, my friend Irish Mick has done a cartoon of yours truly. A damn good likeness, if you ask me. If ever I get abducted by aliens and replaced with an impostor, the absence of a pen in the top pocket would be a dead giveaway.
…But am I really that fat? (Rhetorical question.)