Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to learn about ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the fifth instalment, called, ‘It’s all about science’. Enjoy:
1) Women over 30
Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to learn about ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the second instalment, called, ‘It’s all about religion’. Enjoy:
Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to learn about ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the fourth instalment, called, ‘It’s all about politics’. Enjoy:
Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to learn about ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the third instalment, called, ‘It’s all about lists’. Enjoy:
Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to learn about ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the second instalment, called, ‘It’s all about crime’. Enjoy:
1) Don’t date Ms Dynamite
Have you ever asked yourself what the meaning of news really is?
It’s like the meaning of life, isn’t it? Or the meaning of God, or love, or digestive biscuits. Maybe there isn’t any, I mean.
Anyway, whether there is any meaning to life, ABBA revival tours or news, I think we can all agree that there is a Hell of a lot of it. News, that is. (I try not to notice or count ABBA revival tours.)
So, each and every day, there are millions of stories, big and small, that make it into the world’s many news outlets. From Washington Post to Huffington Post, from the Tel Aviv Telegraph to the Jihadist Journal, from the Inuit Examiner to the Papua Express, from… Well, you catch my drift.
Lots of stuff out there - and I’ve been writing a daily column about various news stories, for over two years now.
No, this is not a farewell post but I’m going on a holiday and I won’t have access to the Internet, for a week. Which will be a mother of a cold turkey, I’m sure. So, I won’t be able to follow the news or write about it - but I will leave you with some links to older, strange and sometimes wonderful news stories. I’ve built up quite an archive, over these two years…
Here’s the first instalment, called, ‘It’s all about sex’. Enjoy:
I don’t know about you but me, I’ve heard quite enough about a certain dead DIY albino - up to and very much including the point that a BBC nitwit more or less compared the dead ‘King of Pop’ with the very much alive ‘King of Tennis’, Roger Federer.
Now, it tells you about all you need to know about our dearly deceased that he absolutely loved that stupid title - and anyone who knows even a little bit about Federer knows he would find this latest coronation acutely embarrassing.
What’s more, he may be too polite to mention it but I am not, so I am quite happy to state that such a claim, certainly in this particular context, is also in very bad taste.
Not quite as bad as a certain other BBC presenter who calls old gentlemen to inform them that he has fucked their granddaughters but bad enough anyway.
Enough about Michael Jackson though - and more than enough about BBC idiots.
There are, after all, more things in heaven and earth, Sue Barker, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. More things below earth too, as the following Telegraph article shows.
Again, I don’t know about you but some news stories just make me very happy - and this is one of them: “As a thin drizzle fell on the World Worm Charming Championships on Saturday, Stan Allen strummed his guitar and felt the earth move at his feet. This was broadly the idea, although it wasn’t clear whether the worms emerging mob-handed around him were coming up to enjoy the entertainment or to escape from the noise. “They like rock best,” Stan 61, explained between riffs. “Easy listening doesn’t do it for them, and classical puts them to sleep.”
Worm charming is an ancient, noble and mysterious art, which, while intended primarily to bring worms out of the soil also manages to bring out the worst in its ultra-competitive practitioners. Tales abound of dirty tricks and dubious practices. One charmer was banned for life after concealing worms in his trouser legs to sprinkle on the ground – “we got suspicious when we saw him wearing bicycle clips,” says championship organiser Mike Forster. Others have sunk to chopping worms in half to double their totals.”
(Bad but slightly less annoying than a Michael Jackson clip…)
It’s not a state secret that the world’s governments are not exactly winning the War on Drugs. Spraying coca fields in Columbia, paying millions to corrupt dictators and ‘Just say no’ campaigns at home have not seen any serious reduction in the production, trafficking and consumption of drugs.
Banks may go broke, house prices may drop as fast as unemployment figures rise but the drugs cartels are not really in need of any government bail outs.
So, should we just give up and stop pretending that we ever had a chance of winning this grossly unequal fight?
Until today I would have suggested that that should indeed be the case. Better to tax the enemy than to continue this doomed and very costly war.
Thanks to an article in today’s Guardian, however, I’ve become a believer - a born again flag bearer for the War on Drugs, if you like.
The best part of the story is that fighting drugs can be fun. We won’t need to bribe militias and dictators anymore, won’t have to use dangerous chemicals to kill coca crops or pretend that’s it’s cooler to say no than to get high.
No, the only thing we need to finally win the War on Drugs is to breed more wallabies, teach them how to use a parachute and drop them above the world’s various poppy fields:
“Unlike their larger mainland cousins,the wallabies of Tasmania appear to be more trippy than Skippy. No lesser an authority than the island’s attorney general has discovered that hungry marsupials and thousands of acres of legal opium poppy fields do not mix.
“We have a problem with wallabies entering poppy fields, getting as high as a kite and going around in circles,” Lara Giddings told a budget hearing on Wednesday. “Then they crash. We see crop circles in the poppy industry from wallabies that are high.”"
Today’s broadcast is sponsored by hair colour brand Clairol Perfect 10, which is running a new campaign, with the somewhat surprising and more than a bit dubious slogan, ‘Over the hill and far away.’
Anyway, as I’ve stated a few times before, I like scientists. Not just the humble white coats who merely slog on, in pursuit of a better type of throw-away pen, a more convincing-looking toupee or a cure for AIDS but also - and maybe especially - the kind of scientist that has his or her eyes firmly on tomorrow’s headlines, like a heat-seeking missile in, well, in heat, I suppose.
Of course, the downside of trying to make the news with such religious fervour is that, occasionally, it makes you look like an utter prat:
“Researchers discovered women feel most confident and happywith their love life and body shape shortly before they reach 30. It is also the period in their life when they enjoy the best sex – but the happiness is relatively shortlived. Because by the time they have turned 30 they start worrying about growing old and developing grey hair and wrinkles.”
Yes, that great time just before you hit thirty. When everything is going ever so well for you…
So, the king is dead - long live the king, and all of that.
I know the common and probably decent thing, these early moments, is to say how brilliant artist X was, how much he or she was loved and will be missed.
Well, I’m sure millions out there in the World of Blog have already done so - as I’m equally certain that a large number of folks have already shared their joyful and sadistic glee with those who care for that kind of necrophilia.
Me, I never was a fan of his music and I thought his life style disgusting. Like many people on this planet, when reading about this deeply troubled person, I felt a mix of pity and deep irritation.
Yes, he was talented but, like too many other artists, he also ended up being a waste of space and time.
Consider the following story:
“Veteran French cyclist Jeannie Longo,who is hoping to qualify for the Beijing Olympics this summer, won the Trophee des Grimpeurs (Climbers’ Trophy) for the fourth time on Sunday. Longo, who turns 50 years old in October, had already won the event which counts towards the French Cup of womens’ cycling, in 2001, 2004 and 2007. She covered the 62.6km course in 1:40.30 to finish more than three minutes ahead of leading rivals.”
Then look back at the last 25 years or so of Michael Jackson’s life…
He could have used his talents to make more music. He could have used his influence to help promote any number of good causes. He could have done so many worthwhile things or, alternatively, simply have retreated from the public stage and enjoyed his life - but, unfortunately, we already know what he did with his life.
Anyway, enough about this sorry subject.
Because reading about Jackson’s death also reminded me of another news story I had read a few days earlier - so, as an antidote to the reported sad end of a rather sad life, I will end this post with a quote from that older Guardian article: “He might be almost 90 but Ray Bradbury’s quest to save US public libraries rolls on, with the author appearing last Saturday at an event in California to raise money for a library in trouble. The HP Wright library in Ventura is threatened with closure due to cuts in public funding, unless it raises $280,000 (£171,000) by next March. Bradbury’s event was the first in a year-long series of author appearances designed to help keep the 44-year-old library open. The $25 (£15) ticket offered patrons the chance to hear a talk from the author of Fahrenheit 451, as well as see a screening of The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit, a film based on one of his short stories.
Bradbury said that he had spoken at all of California’s 200-odd libraries. “I have a wheelchair, so they carry me to the car, and they throw me in the car, and throw me in the library, and they sell books and they keep all the money. I talk free, to make money for them so they can continue,” he told the New York Times. “”
Thank you, mister Bradbury, for reminding all of us, especially today, that it is also possible to live a long and creative and gloriously positive life.
