tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65880645789917814012024-03-13T06:08:37.540-07:00The Rational PixiesThe Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-91285255048468161652020-10-18T05:57:00.000-07:002020-10-18T05:57:23.638-07:00<p>An Amazing Avian Artiste!<br /></p><p>Writing this post to record a remarkable encounter with one of Britain's smallest birds - a male Goldcrest - in our garden last week (Sun 11th Oct 2020). They are occasional visitors to our neighbourhood usually staying only for a few minutes. This one though I was able to watch for a good 30 minutes, searching the tree canopy at the end of the garden (focussing on the acers and hornbeams) between a couple of bouts of sitting on a branch about 5 metres up preening thoroughly for a good 5 minutes each time, with me watching from directly below, getting a cricked neck in the process.</p><p>What was most remarkable though was its singing.</p><p>I didn't at first believe it could be the Goldcrest that was making the sound, as the song was so different from the familiar "seedli seedli seedli seeee see see" calls I'm more used to hearing. But it seemed to be the only bird around, and the sound followed the bird's movements. The singing also ceased during the aforementioned preening sessions.</p><p>Unfortunately it was very windy despite being a bright and sunny (though chilly afternoon) and I didn't manage to record any of it.</p><p>But anyway, the song itself was more like that of a Robin singing to itself*, only higher pitched, squeakier and less tuneful, but littered with snippets of mimicry of other species. A keen ear could detect, along the expected "seedli" sounds, snippets of coal tit, blue tit, goldfinch, possibly chaffinch, and distinctly the trill calls of a long-tailed tit. Furthermore it was singing all the time it was fluttering from branch to branch, in bursts of maybe a minute or more.<br /></p><p>As outlined above, I would never have attributed such varied singing to a Goldcrest unless I'd watched it myself. The quality was more like that of a warbler - to which they are reasonably closely related - a family that features plenty of expert mimics. None of my bird books mention anything about mimicry by Goldcrests though, and I've not found any such reports on the internet either. Maybe it was auditory pareidolia on my part? I don't know now, but it was a memorable experience either way.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p>*Something I've observed Robins doing (at least outside the breeding season) is to find a nice quiet perch and sing quietly with their beak closed so as to mute the sound, as if they're almost humming tunes to themselves that they're rehearsing. Quite delightful.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-54338828973975766572020-01-18T07:53:00.000-08:002020-01-18T07:56:04.108-08:00Please Hold<i>Post from Elaine (@elainepixie) relating the trials of negotiating modern technology:</i><br />
<br />
"Wrote this li'l poem, inspired and informed by thoughts occurring during
the real phone call I made to my GP surgery this afternoon. It will no
doubt be a familiar scenario for many. Imagine, if you will, that this
was spread over 32 minutes... I call it 'Please Hold'. <span class="_5mfr"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/td8/1.5/16/1f60a.png"); font-size: 16px; height: 16px; width: 16px;">😊</span></span> (Small quantity of colourful language.)"<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Please Hold</b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Your call is in a queue.</span><br />
<br />
Mu-sic starts to<br />
Pound my ear drums<br />
And a-ttack my brain<br />
It is clear-ly<br />
Spe-cially writ-ten<br />
To drive me in-sane<br />
It re-peats in<br />
Sing-le beats with<br />
No res-pite at all<br />
No-thing ap-proach<br />
-Ing a tune I<br />
Think I'll end this call<br />
That is what they<br />
Want you to do!<br />
You can't let them win<br />
You can do this<br />
How much lon-ger<br />
Can they play this din<br />
Where do they get<br />
This crap mu-sic<br />
It must be de-signed<br />
By a mach-ine<br />
For the pur-pose<br />
Of fuck-ing my mind<br />
Ah it's end-ed<br />
Sweet re-lease please<br />
Play a new re-frain<br />
It can't be as<br />
Bad oh fuck they're<br />
Start-ing it a-gain<br />
<br />
Here I am ten<br />
Cy-cles la-ter<br />
Knee-ling on the floor<br />
Star-ing out the <br />
Win-dow though my<br />
Eyes can see no more<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Press one for appointments.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Three.</span><br />
<br />
Ring ring<br />
Ring ring<br />
Oh joy<br />
I'm there<br />
Not long<br />
To go<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Three.</span><br />
<br />
O-kay<br />
Not there<br />
Just yet<br />
But soon<br />
Pre-pare<br />
To speak<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Three.</span><br />
<br />
Oh God<br />
I'm stuck<br />
Help me<br />
How long<br />
Will I<br />
Be here<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Three.</span><br />
<br />
Lost track<br />
How long<br />
I've been<br />
At three<br />
Hate num-<br />
Ber one<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Two.</span><br />
<br />
Progress!<br />
Punch air<br />
Be quick<br />
I beg<br />
New num-<br />
Ber one<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Two.</span><br />
<br />
Sus-pense<br />
Pain-ful<br />
Will to<br />
Live is <br />
Slip-ping<br />
A-way<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Two.</span><br />
<br />
This line<br />
Is for<br />
Ap-point<br />
-Ments fuck<br />
What takes<br />
So long<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> One.</span><br />
<br />
That's it!<br />
Get set<br />
To speak...<br />
Ring ring<br />
Ring ring<br />
Ring ring<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> One.</span><br />
<br />
Argh no!<br />
Not there<br />
Still one<br />
Ba-stard<br />
A-head<br />
Of me<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> One.</span><br />
<br />
Feet dead<br />
Shift legs<br />
Re-ward<br />
In reach<br />
Please please<br />
Please please<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Please hold. Our staff are currently dealing with other patients. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> You are caller number...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> One.</span><br />
<br />
Soon now<br />
Pre-pare<br />
Clear throat<br />
Do not<br />
Hang up<br />
In shock<br />
<br />
<i>Hello - reception. How can I help?</i><br />
<br />
I open my mouth and try to start speaking<br />
But what is that sound?<br />
I appear to be squeaking!<br />
Such eons have passed since commencing this call<br />
My voicebox has aged<br />
Barely functions at all<br />
<br />
So I squeak my request<br />
My name, D.o.B,<br />
And I get my appointment<br />
I'm a jollier me<br />
I'm glad I hung in there<br />
Achievement is mine<br />
As I write in my diary<br />
Smear test app't - nine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-46386036460502913492019-01-23T10:12:00.000-08:002019-01-23T11:42:23.501-08:00The End of the Parade<br /><h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Currently suffering with a virus, but instead of letting my body rest last night and get some much-needed sleep, my semi-conscious brain instead decided to bombard me with a weird and vivid dream, over and over again. The story below is a pretty faithful - though slight<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ly embellished - </span>summary of the tale my virus-addled brain told me.</i></span></span></h4>
<br />
Our story starts in the southern plains of central Africa where a large herd of elephants were preparing to make their annual migration. They were a strong and well-established herd made up of many tightly knit families comprising over 200 individuals in total. With the dry season approaching they needed to make their way North to where for decades they had sojourned at a bountiful watering hole. It was a long and arduous journey of several hundred km and not one that any of them relished. And they knew that when they got there they'd be competing with other elephant herds - and indeed other species - for the best spots to encamp for the season.<br />
<br />
But this year before they left, they were approached casually by a small group of griffon vultures. The vultures explained how with their ability to soar to 1000's of metres they could see much further than the elephants. They told the elephants they knew of a watering hole to the East hidden in a secret valley that none of the other animals had discovered. The vultures would show them the way there. The elephants could have the whole place to themselves. They would be in complete control.<br />
<br />
The rumour of this paradise spread throughout the herd. Some of the elephants were at first suspicious. "But you are mighty elephants! We are just birds! Even a dozen of us would be of no threat to even the youngest of your group. Where's the harm?"<br />
<br />
Of course the elephants knew that was true, but it flattered them to hear it being said by these new found friends.<br />
<br />
The herd began to discuss their options. The older cows in particular liked the idea of not having to share with other herds: they considered some of those outsiders to have rather poor hygiene standards, ironically unaware of their own shortcomings in that department. Others - especially the younger members - were more sceptical. They'd been perfectly happy with their previous destination and indeed relished mixing with the youngsters from the other herds. <br />
<br />
Eventually to settle the matter the lead bull declared there would be a head count. Those wanting to go North would stand to left; those for the East would stand to the right.<br />
<br />
Roughly a third of the herd held no strong opinion either way and stood aside, not committing to either group but trusting the herd to make a sensible choice.<br />
<br />
Nearly all of the younger adults stood to the left, whilst most of the older animals went right. The very youngest were of course excluded being considered too inexperienced to have a say.<br />
<br />
At first the difference in size between the two groups was hard to distinguish, but as they filed past in pairs, one from either side, it became evident that the group for the East had a handful of extra bodies.<br />
<br />
The lead bull was aghast. He understood the danger of making such a momentous decision on such a closely balanced opinion poll. "We really don't have to go through with this," he declared to the ensemble.<br />
<br />
"OH YES WE DO!" exclaimed an over-confident old cow, striding off Eastwards onto the path the vultures had shown them, her cabal of friends in tow.<br />
<br />
And so the journey for the whole herd began; many reluctant and resentful at how the decision had been taken, but feeling obliged to toe the line.<br />
<br />
After a while, unease amongst the elephants began to grow. Some felt they hadn't really been given enough time to make a well-informed choice, and that the promises about this fabled paradise seemed too good to be true. However, any ideas of dissent were harshly quashed with rebukes of being a traitor to the herd, or trying to sabotage the will of the herd. There would be no turning back.<br />
<br />
Now it's easy, but dangerous, to underestimate the cognitive capabilities of birds, especially griffons who look so ungainly and gangly when comically tottering around on the ground. But while they lack true strategic planning aptitude, they can make connections and associations which to all intents and purposes can resemble cunning. The land to which they were leading the elephants had once been teeming with animals; now it was deserted. The vultures instinctively felt that luring the herd back there would somehow prove fruitful.<br />
<br />
The vultures had been quite genuine when they had said that they themselves posed no threat to the elephants. But they were nevertheless leading the elephants into peril. The absence of wildlife in the Eastern lands was down to eradication by hunters and poachers.<br />
<br />
It's impossible to discreetly relocate a herd of over 200 pachyderms. They were spotted from miles away by the poachers who used drones to locate targets. The poachers could scarcely believe their luck. They'd managed to bag the odd stray bull on its own before, but never had they been presented with such a rich and easy bounty.<br />
<br />
The path the elephants were blithely following led on through a narrow ravine; a dried river bed formed by the freak flash floods that occasionally struck the region. It had an ambience of disconnection from the outside world; one of peace and tranquility. It was however the perfect place for an ambush.<br />
<br />
The slaughter started as soon as the last member of the herd had entered the ravine. It was as brief as it was brutal. A terrifying din of machine gun fire, panicking pachyderms, and the thuds of massive bodies collapsing to the ground, making the earth quake. The poachers had set up a pincer trap, attacking from both ends so that the bodies of fallen animals blocked escape for those trapped in the middle. It was over in a matter of minutes. Efficient and industrial; every tusked adult killed. So much death; so much blood. A few of the youngest elephants had managed to escape - they were of no value to the poachers after all - they were unlikely to last long on their own in any event.<br />
<br />
A short while later, the ensuing eery silence was shattered again by the sound of chainsaws. The poachers would have their bounty of ivory. And the vultures; they would have their meat. So much meat.<br />
<br />
And that is sadly where the story ends.<br />
<br />
It's some small consolation that most of the youngsters who had escaped did manage to find each other and navigate their way back, where the orphans were welcomed into other herds; those whom their own herd had previously spurned.<br />
<br />
Their story would grow to be a legend used to warn others against being led to disaster by ill-informed opinion. From which we should learn and for which be grateful.<br />
<br />
<br />The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-66437446102040025072016-06-14T08:38:00.000-07:002016-06-14T08:39:13.414-07:00A Fable<br />
<div class="Chapter_Style">
<h1>
A Fable</h1>
The following was condensed from a dream I had last night, which I've turned into something resembling a short play...</div>
<div class="Chapter_Style">
<br /></div>
<div class="Chapter_Style">
<br /></div>
<div class="Chapter_Style">
Scene: An upper middle class gathering in an upper floor function suite
in an upmarket hotel. Guests mingling making polite conversation, when
our hero turns up at the room entrance...</div>
<div class="Chapter_Style">
<br />
F: "Ah, Monsieur Urquart! [pronouncing it Ur-karr] So glad you decided to join us after all..."<br />
<br />
U: "Yeah? Well it's pronounced Ur-kutt [deliberately stressing the last
consonant] and I wanted to get my money's worth didn't I. What sort of
party is it when the guests have to pay anyway?" [whilst saying this
he's been removing his camel hair coat and hands it to one of the
serving staff without any acknowledgement.]<br />
<br />
F: "Well monsieur, all we ask is a contribution to help pay for the occasion. Everybody chips in..."<br />
<br />
U: [butts in] "You mean <span style="font-style: italic;">fries</span> in! ... You know: French fries? chips?" [laughs at his own joke]<br />
<br />
F: "We have to pay for the room and for the staff's wages for instance."<br />
<br />
U: [butts in again] "Yeah, but I didn't have any say in choosing them, did I?"<br />
<br />
F: "No monsieur, but all the same..."<br />
<br />
U: "Just as long as I get my 35 quid's worth."<br />
<br />
F: [this time F interrupts] "35?! But does monsieur not remember
[lowering his voice] I gave you a special discount? You only paid
half..."<br />
<br />
U: "Yeah but you <span style="font-style: italic;">asked</span> for 35." [Urquart glares challenglingly]<br />
<br />
F: [sighs] "Very well..." [notices U is empty handed] "we also did
ask if maybe guests might bring along some offering to share...
Monsieur?"<br />
<br />
[Scanning round the room there are tables with ham, sausage, fish, cheese, bread, and bottles of wine and beer, and a few exotic looking desserts. ]<br />
<br />
U: "Well I've bought me financial wizardry... and me use of perfect
gramma'ical English." [mutters] "That must be worth at least 35 quid..."<br />
<br />
[F puzzled by the nonsensical last statement, opens his mouth to speak, but...]<br />
<br />
U: "Anyway, wine o'clock!" [U brushes past F and heads straight over and
pours himself a glass of an Italian red] "And you can't have wine
without a bit of cheese!" [picks up a small plate and helps himself to
selection of French cheeses] "And you can't do worst than a bit of
wurst..." [both words pronounced identically, of course.]<br />
<br />
[U starts to wander through the room with his booty; the guests are all
in small groups chatting politely. As he approaches one group, he
realises they're speaking in a language he doesn't recognise. He pulls a
look of disgust, mutters "rude" under his breath and wanders on. He
stands alone at the side of the room polishing off his food before going
to grab a bottle of Belgian beer. A man is at the adjacent table
quietly cutting himself a slice of bread.]<br />
<br />
U: "Bread's a bit of a boring thing to bring to a party, isn't it?"<br />
<br />
R: [turning around startled] "I baked this myself specially this afternoon. We don't all have the money for more lavish..."<br />
<br />
U: "Ah MONEY! You want to talk about <span style="font-style: italic;">money</span>...
you're talking to the right man! Just between you and me... [initially
in a hushed voice, then suddenly talking loud over everyone else] I'VE
GOT THE FIFTH BIGGEST HOUSE IN THE CITY!"<br />
<br />
[The room has gone suddenly quiet. U turns to the gathering and holds
his arms out as if calling for applause. One lady evidently confused by
the sudden interjection starts to clap, but the man she's been talking with
shakes his head and she stops.]<br />
<br />
U: [turning back to R] "Oh yeah - I've got a bob or two." [takes a few swigs of beer. R looks uncomfortable]<br />
<br />
U: "You know that big house on the other side of the river?"<br />
<br />
R: "The one with the high wall around it?"<br />
<br />
U: "Yeah that's right. That's mine."<br />
<br />
R: "Very nice, I'm sure."<br />
<br />
U: "It is! It's <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> nice. And <span style="font-style: italic;">very expensive</span>. And what about you - whereabouts do you live?"<br />
<br />
R: "Oh on the east side of..."<br />
<br />
U: "Ooh it's a bit rough round there isn't it?"<br />
<br />
R: "It's OK really; people are friendly and always happy to help if you have a problem."<br />
<br />
U: "Well when you have as much money as me you don't have problems.
You just build a big wall to keep all your problems out."<br />
<br />
R: "Or <span style="font-style: italic;">in</span>." [R jokes]<br />
<br />
U: "What's that?!"<br />
<br />
[At this point F who's made his way over to the pair interrupts.]<br />
<br />
F: "So nice to see you fellows getting along so well. I just wondered if you were ready to get on with the night's proceedings?"<br />
<br />
U: [grabbing another bottle of beer] "Err... what's that then?"<br />
<br />
F: "Well the plan is that when everyone's had enough to eat and drink,
we are going to discuss the problems in the neighbourhood and try to
find the best solutions that suit everybody."<br />
<br />
U: "Well that's easy! I've got the fifth biggest house in the city. You should just do what I say"<br />
<br />
[another man starts to interrupt]<br />
<br />
G: "Well actually, as a matter of fact..." [but he sees F shaking his head and stops.]<br />
<br />
F: "That's not really the way we do things."<br />
<br />
U: "Why not?"<br />
<br />
F: "We like to be more... democratic."<br />
<br />
U: [shrugs] "Sounds boring. I've got other parties I could be at, you know?"<br />
<br />
F: "Even so, we would genuinely value your input. Do you not think it's
important that we discuss matters that affect all of us? Our
environment? Security?"<br />
<br />
U: "Of course, but not if you're not going to listen to me."<br />
<br />
F: "We're going to listen to <span style="font-style: italic;">everyone</span>, but we need to find a balance."<br />
<br />
U: [guzzling back his beer] "Yeah... well sorry, that's just not the way I roll."<br />
<br />
F: "We really would like to try to find a way..."<br />
<br />
U: "Whatever." [U. pulls open the door and turns to face everyone] "Bon soir [pronouncing it soya], tout de suite! Au jour d'hui!"<br />
<br />
[he backs out of the door muttering "35 quid! what a rip off". Only
when he turns does he realise he's backed out onto a balcony overlooking
the road. There's the sound of a bolt sliding across behind him.]<br />
<br />
U: "Bollocks!"<br />
<br />
[it starts to rain...]<br />
<br /></div>
The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-88133036774612062902015-05-06T01:42:00.001-07:002015-05-06T03:32:02.555-07:00The Flawed Logic of UKIPOne statement that has been repeatedly ejaculated from the mouths of UKIP's most vocal advocates is that of <i><b>"80% of our laws are now coming from the EU!"</b></i>. It's a "fact" that has been mindlessly parroted by those with a Euro-sceptic bent: a sound-byte designed to enrage the patriotic spirit; to instil a belief that we in the UK have surrendered our national sovereignty and are now cowed and enslaved to the evil bureaucrats of Brussels...<br />
<br />
[Aside: if the UK parliament has really been so disempowered, why would UKIP spend so much time, energy and money trying to elect their members into it?]<br />
<br />
What is most annoying about this assertion though, is their application of a mathematical operation to non-quantifiable entities.<br />
<br />
For instance, if I went shopping and bought a 5kg bag of best British potatoes for £2-50, and then a 50cl bottle of Italian's finest Limoncello for £15, how much of my shopping would be British? On an item by item basis it would be 50%, but going by weight/volume it would be more like 90% British. On the other hand, on the basis of price it would be only 14%. So I can get three different answers, depending on what metric I choose.<br />
<br />
And that's on items that can be quantified!<br />
<br />
How can you quantify laws? How can you for instance compare a law regulating for efficiency of light bulbs (an evil law from the EU in UKIP's eyes) to the law for marriage equality (a law from the UK - and similarly evil to UKIP)? <i><b>The whole concept is utterly meaningless.</b></i><br />
<br />
And besides, if a law is a good one (and I'd argue that both above examples are good), does it matter where it comes from? Surely only a bigot would think so...<br />
<br />
And I'm certainly not going to turn my back on a good bottle of Limoncello just because it's not home-grown! Now pass me a glass...<br />
<br />
<br />The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-58664154474708167602015-01-31T08:58:00.000-08:002015-02-01T03:10:08.854-08:00Sliming Mount ImprobableIn his iconic book, "The God Delusion", Richard Dawkins posits a qualitative <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spectrum_of_theistic_probability">scale of theism</a> ranging from 1: Strong Theist to 7: Strong Atheist with the mid-value of 4 for those good honest agnostics who admit to being happy to sit squarely on the fence. Dawkins declares himself to be "a 6.9" and goes on to say "I'd be surprised to meet many people in Category 7... Atheists do not have faith; and reason alone could not propel one to total conviction that anything definitely does not exist. Hence category 7 is in practice rather emptier than its opposite number, category 1, which has many devoted inhabitants."<br />
<br />
Whilst philosophically I accept this logic, it still strikes me as being frustratingly non-committal, and doesn't consider the dynamic nature of the evidence, i.e. the balance of probability of a divine existence versus the increasing certainty of divine non-existence as time passes without the slightest hint of an omnipotent being even vaguely flexing their muscles.<br />
<br />
So whilst one can state that existence of a god can never be disproved, the probability of such decreases continuously with time as no scientifically credible evidence is found. <br />
<br />
Contemplating this situation reminded me of one of Zeno's paradoxes which I remember first being presented to me thus:<br />
<br />
A snail crawls half way to the bottom of the garden one day, then half the distance left the next day, then half the remaining distance again the following day, etc. Does the snail actually ever make it to the end of the garden?<br />
<br />
Well - it's evident that the snail will never truly reach his* goal (especially bearing in mind the finite natural lifespan of gastropods), but since the remaining distance decreases as an inverse exponential, then "as near as dammit"** he just as well might have. And mathematicians do indeed allow these convergent infinite series to be assigned with an exact <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1/2_%2B_1/4_%2B_1/8_%2B_1/16_%2B_%E2%8B%AF">result</a>***.<br />
<br />
So while philosophers continue to argue the toss over god's existence, the Snail of Doubt creeps relentlessly ever closer to his goal, with only divine intervention capable of thwarting his progress....<br />
<br />
For all practical purposes, I therefore suggest that as long as one accepts the infinitessimal <i>possibility</i>
of having to eat humble pie and change one's stance in the event of
some supernatural entity finally and unequivocally demonstrating their
presence, it's absolutely a perfectly reasonable stance to declare oneself a 7
on the Dawkins scale and unequivocally state one's disbelief.<br />
<br />
:-)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
* Most snails are hermaphroditic and I'm not sure what the correct personal pronoun is for such cases; I hope none are offended by my adoption of he/his/him. ;-)<br />
<br />
** My old maths teacher's technical term.<br />
<br />
*** The ones and zeroes in digital electronics switch in an analogous manner, arguably never actually reaching an absolute state of one-ness or zero-ness, but fortunately engineers are far too sensible to let such things worry them... ;-)The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-34810800413793828102013-10-08T05:56:00.000-07:002013-10-08T05:56:00.736-07:00On EulogiesThis is something of a significant departure from rational sensibilities but was inspired by Robin Ince's <a href="http://robinince.wordpress.com/2013/10/07/my-night-of-pulpit-envy-with-jo-brand/">blog post</a> which touches on the sense of responsibility he felt when delivering a eulogy at his brother in law's funeral. Having had only one such experience to compare with, I can certainly relate to his anxiety, but also the confusing sense of satisfaction felt afterwards when reflecting on a difficult job well done. The task of the eulogist is undoubtedly onerous, and inevitably at a time where one's emotions are in some turmoil, but the realisation of it being a final public way to honour a loved one surpasses those challenges.<br />
<br />
That said, my own experience was for my father's funeral, and my first attempt at composing a eulogy was disastrous. It was full of bitterness and anger at the illness that had gradually but relentlessly taken him from us and robbed him of a well-earned retirement. While I had tried to include some positive memories, the overall balance was uncharacteristically depressing.<br />
<br />
The very act of writing that, however had itself been a catharsis. The expression of the hurt I was feeling disempowering those negative emotions that inspired it. With Elaine's invaluable support, the second version attempted to vanquish all the melancholy, and the result was so much better.<br />
<br />
Five and half years after my father's death, I've only just looked back to reflect on what I finally said, and while I'm not entirely sure if a blog is an appropriate place to belatedly post a eulogy, it's something I would now like to do. So there...<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h3>
<b>Don Pickering - A Tribute (Feb 2008)</b></h3>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Family and Friends,<br />
<br />
Thank you all so much for being here today to remember and say our final farewells to my father, Don. We really appreciate the trouble that many of you have gone to to be here.<br /><br />
Dad would have been delighted to see you all as he always enjoyed a good get-together. He would thrive at social occasions, being a master of conversation - and would talk confidently with anyone on seemingly any subject, though sport was always his particular favourite. He also had a brilliant memory for names and faces - skills that made him well suited to his job in insurance. He made many business friends, and on our shopping trips into Coventry city centre when I was a child, he nearly always bumped into at least one person he knew (quite astounding for a city of that size) always taking the time to chat affably with them (much to the irritation of us impatient kids!).<br /><br />
He very much enjoyed the simple things in life: music, sunshine, walks in the countryside, gardening and good food - especially desserts: his sweet tooth was legendary, and he always regarded the savoury courses of a meal as an inconvenient formality before the main event - the dessert menu. As his niece Hazel recalls "I will always remember the dances we had at family parties and the way he made a dash for the gateau". And yet despite his weakness for sweet things he always liked to keep fit and maintain a healthy weight.<br /><br />
He took great pride in his garden, and rightly so considering the incredible patience he invested in it, growing all his plants from seeds in his greenhouse before transplanting them out in geometrically perfect rows resulting in a blaze of colour which was the envy of the neighbourhood. And naturally he often got into conservation with passers-by who felt moved to compliment him on his splendid display.<br /><br />
He was a real sun worshipper and loved our family holidays, which we often shared with my mum's older sister Betty and her family. (I'm delighted to see the lads - Nigel, Martin and David - are here today.) Even when we cousins reached the age when it was no longer cool to go on holiday with our parents, my Mum and Dad continued to enjoy sunny breaks with Bet and Ray to Jersey, The Canaries and Portugal in particular where they had many happy times together.<br /><br />
My Dad also made the most of the sunshine back home, and in our secluded back garden he was often to be found on sunny days nonchalantly sprawled out <i>au naturel</i> on a chair outside the back door. So in the Summer it was always best to remember to use the front door when returning home with any guests...<br /><br />
And then of course there was his love of music. His radio was a constant companion when he was gardening, and he often sang along without inhibition. Indeed he loved singing in public - something he'd felt since childhood when he switched churches just so he could join their choir. In the 1980's he joined the Coventry Operatic Society and was a member of the chorus for more than a decade appearing in productions of many of his favourite musicals. He took great delight that his youngest grand-daughter Rosanna has followed in his footsteps, and she will soon be making her own tribute on behalf of all of the grandchildren with her rendition of Black Hills of Dakota from Calamity Jane. (Dad admired both Howard Keel and Doris Day greatly, though possibly for different reasons...)<br /><br />
With Dad's cheery disposition, it's difficult to believe he was once mistaken for a terrorist! The story goes as follows:-<br /><br />
According to my Dad he had a brief but urgent "business" call in the city centre. (On the basis of the proximity to a favoured betting shop, that detail may not have been entirely accurate, but to be kind we'll accept his version.) Unfortunately there were no parking spaces available in the area, so in desperation he decided to risk the double-yellow lines directly outside the Coventry City Council House and just across the road from the main Police Station. At the time we were in the middle of the IRA's mainland bombing campaign. Since he was trying to be quick, he'd dashed away from his car which was understandably misconstrued as highly suspicious by some vigilant member of the public. Just to make matters worse he had left his copy of The Sun in plain view on the dashboard with its sensational "IRA Terror Alert" headline showing. Consequently, when he returned several minutes later he found a police constable ushering people away from the area until the bomb squad could arrive to set up a proper cordon. Amazingly (and I still don't know how he got away with it) Dad managed to blag his way out, charming the officer into letting him go without so much as a parking ticket!<br /><br />
The one redeeming aspect of Dad's illness was that over time it suppressed his desires for the active life he could no longer achieve, and he became content to simply savour the care and love bestowed on him by his family, friends, and the caring staff of the Warwickshire Nursing Home where he spent his last two years. He continued to enjoy listening to music in particular and simply the warmth of the company around him.<br /><br />
I must at this point pay tribute to my wonderful mother Dorothy, who did her utmost to care for my Dad at the family home, until his degree of debility simply made it physically impossible for her to do so. The love and dedication she showed through that difficult period was nothing short of heroic. She has been a tower of strength and an inspiration to us all. Dad couldn't always express it but I know he appreciated all that you did, Mum, as did we.<br /><br />
I'd like to summarise with a quote from his long-time friend, Ian Brown, whom I phoned to let him know of Dad's passing, and to thank him for all his friendship and support over the years. He replied "Well, Andrew, he was just such a nice chap" and I thought, Yes - that's it in a nutshell... Don Pickering the man I was proud to call my father.<br /><br />
And now over to Rosie...<br /> </blockquote>
<br />
<br />The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-82962559610123381112013-09-26T15:15:00.000-07:002013-09-27T10:11:52.945-07:00Humanism and MeThis is a talk I prepared for the inaugural meeting of the Warwickshire Humanist group:-<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Good evening folks. My name is Andy Pickering. I am a local lad having been born and brought up in Coventry, and then after a 3 year break to study at York University, moved to Rugby where we've lived ever since. I was invited by Benjamin to deputise for the new Warwickshire Humanist group - my main qualification I think being "the first person to <i>like</i> the facebook page". So here I am...<br />
<br />
I've been asked to talk tonight about "Humanism and Me". I have to apologise in advance that there is rather a lot about "Me" but I do get round to talking about "Humanism" eventually.<br />
<br />
So... as the youngest child in a conventional Christian family, I was taught about God and Jesus from a very early age. We used to go to church every week and I went to my local Church of England primary school where we had prayers and hymns every day. It was all very nice and friendly.<br />
<br />
Like most young children I was fascinated with everything in the world around me. I hated not knowing things. I was very fortunate that my parents were members of the Reader's Digest and had some marvellous books which I could barely read of course, but which I was fully encouraged to look at and whose pictures I found utterly captivating. In particular I remember a huge atlas which included a picture of a cutaway section of the Earth showing all its different layers. And I wondered how anyone could really know that: it seemed impossible to me. My mum explained that "clever people" called scientists had worked it out.<br />
<br />
Another book on natural history had lots of photos of different animals - so many weird and wonderful creatures. But the most exciting picture of all was obviously hand-painted. It showed a montage of these huge animals called dinosaurs wallowing in a swampy forest landscape like nothing I'd ever seen. I felt so disappointed when it was explained that there were no photos of dinosaurs as they no longer existed: we only knew what they looked like because of fossils and that no-one had ever really seen a dinosaur... Those clever people called scientists had again worked it out.<br />
<br />
As well as trying to read factual books, my thirst for knowledge meant I asked lots of questions. In hindsight I was probably really annoying, but was always treated with patience by my parents and teachers. There were no questions I wasn't allowed to ask, but that didn't necessarily mean I'd simply uncritically accept the answers. If I was told something that didn't seem right to me, I generally wouldn't remonstrate; I'd just go away to mull it over quietly thinking "nah! that can't be right...".<br />
<br />
And maybe that's partly why all the religious instruction never fully swayed me. Even at my young age there seemed to be things that didn't make sense: at church we were being told about heaven being up in the sky, but at home we were watching the Apollo missions on TV - not an angel in sight. And how could hell really be a place? I'd already read about volcanoes and the inner structure of the Earth.<br />
<br />
So as far as I was concerned I was quite happy to treat Bible stories as just that - stories - my bible being firmly placed in the "fiction" section of my personal book collection. That said, I did find some of the stories about Jesus quite inspiring. Three in particular being about "turning the other cheek", "the good Samaritan" and "the poor widow's offering".<br />
[It was only only on much later reflection that I realised that none of these stories has any supernatural element to them and maybe that's why I related to them: the first two are essentially about caring for fellow human beings, whilst the last is basically about maths.]<br />
<br />
And of course there were still the Christian festivals to enjoy. With presents at Christmas time and chocolate at Easter, it did appear to be a recurring source of welcome goodies irrespective of the philosophies behind it.<br />
<br />
At 11 I moved up to secondary school. Daily school assemblies were <i>de rigeur</i> comprising incredibly badly sung hymns and prayers where one of the teachers on stage would drone on whilst we closed our eyes. There were no seats so we were standing throughout and it was quite frequent for one of the younger pupils in particular to faint and be dragged out by the teachers to the recovery area so it wasn't entirely lacking in entertainment value, but generally it was just a bore.<br />
<br />
There were quite a few kids from Indian backgrounds at the school and I was intrigued that they were allowed to sit out of the start of assembly and just come in for the school announcements at the end. When they explained to me it was because they were Sikh or Muslim or Hindu or whatever and didn't want to participate in the Christian worship I was quite aghast. "It's just meaningless waffle", I thought, "no need to take it so seriously".<br />
<br />
In spite of my personal lack of conviction, it never occurred to me to object to this daily ritual or to try applying for an exemption. It was just what we all did: I was a <i>de facto</i> Christian.<br />
<br />
We also had compulsory religious education for the first few years, which again was entirely Christian doctrine - no pandering to religious diversity in those days. I remember finally being taught the 10 Commandments which I'd heard so much about as a child. Having been led to believe these were some sort of magical secret code for how to live one's life, I found them totally fatuous and underwhelming. My ambivalence for religion just continued to grow.<br />
<br />
Still by far the best thing about secondary school for me was being able to properly learn about science. This seemed to me to be the way to really find out how everything worked and to understand the fascinating world around us. Maybe I might even learn how those "clever people" could possibly know about the Earth's core and about dinosaurs etc.<br />
<br />
In particular I was enthused by my physics teacher, affectionately known as Doc. If you had a question, rather than simply giving you the answer he would try to help you deduce it for yourself by drip-feeding the necessary clues needed to resolve your understanding. Some of my peers found this infuriating, but I found it refreshing and invigorating. Rather than simply accepting something from an authority figure, he was encouraging us to find our own answers based on what we already knew. An invaluable lesson in itself for critical thinking.<br />
<br />
At the end of my 3rd year when he'd been our form teacher, Doc also left us with this one snippet of lifestyle advice: "Do whatever you want in life, as long as you don't hurt others". As a natural liberal I found this more inspiring and far more profound than anything from religious teachings. And it's amazing just how far you can get in the moral maze of life just by following that one simple principle. God could have saved Moses at least one stone tablet and an awful lot of weight if he'd just stuck with that, or gone for the even snappier abbreviated version "Just don't be a dick."<br />
<br />
So by my mid-teens I had pretty well rejected religion. I didn't feel antipathy towards it - as far as I was concerned it was just harmless fun. And it had a nice social side that some people obviously found comforting so I was perfectly happy to let them get on with it. I do remember being quite surprised to find one of my fellow scientists was a regular church-goer though, as he'd never struck me as the devout type.<br />
<br />
"Do you really believe in that stuff?" I asked him.<br />
<br />
"No not really", he replied, "but it's quite fun... and anyway there are some really hot girls who go there!".<br />
<br />
In my late teens I met my own hot girl - who would eventually become my wife. Elaine and I had actually been to the same Church of England primary school and that Christmas she gave me a copy of Carl Sagan's "Cosmos". I was totally absorbed reading this as it was the first time I'd ever read about the history of science and looked back to just how human kind had falteringly learned the facts about our universe that we today take for granted. In particular though, it opened my eyes to the fact that religion wasn't just an irrelevant world view for science; it was positively detrimental to it. It was no coincidence that the Ancient Greeks with their relatively liberal social and religious attitudes had taken such huge steps in establishing the basics of mathematical and scientific philosophy. Neither was it any coincidence that scientific progress in Europe had ground to a standstill for centuries during the dark and middle ages when the Roman Catholic church were the ruling authority and controlled all intellectual criticism. Anything published that didn't match with the official doctrine was labelled as heresy and quashed, with severe punishment meted out on the instigators.<br />
<br />
It was shocking to read of Giordano Bruno's being burned at the stake, and of Galileo's effective imprisonment, both for having the temerity to suggest the Earth orbited the Sun rather than being the centre of God's creation. The fact that they were ultimately proved right only intensified the injustice, and hardened my disaffection with religious thinking.<br />
<br />
In spite of this, when we got married we still had a church wedding. For my part it was mainly for the expectations of our families. It might seem hypocritical but was more about pragmatism and not wanting to be antagonistic to the sensibilities of others. Maybe I just wasn't really cut out to be a hardened heretic, though if I was to remarry now I'm sure things would be different.<br />
<br />
In my adult life I've now become far more aware of political and social issues both in the UK and around the world. I'm also far more savvy about the duplicitous nature of organised religion: on one hand it does give many people community and support, social structure and moral guidance; on the other hand it frequently fans the flames of hatred and division, and has been a root cause of incalculable human suffering. Many religions assert they have some sort of moral superiority over non-believers or people of other faiths, but the actions of their fervent adherents frequently prove the opposite.<br />
<br />
Conversely my continued enlightenment about scientific and technological developments has only intensified my admiration for science and for us humans as a species who have proved so smart and resourceful in its advancement.<br />
<br />
I find it truly wondrous that we can look out across the universe and understand so much about how it works and how it came into existence, back to the first trillionth of a millisecond. And how we've managed to trace the history of our own Earth and solar system back to 4 billion years ago. With our understanding of evolution and DNA we now know that every living thing on our planet had a single common ancestor and that we share the same basic chemistry with everything from a blue whale to a bluebell. And we know that there are still dinosaurs - though nowadays we call them "birds"...<br />
<br />
It's also inspiring to ponder the feats we humans have achieved with our knowledge. Advances in medicine have provided antibiotics and vaccinations which have saved untold lives, and led to the virtual eradication of many previously life-threatening diseases. Birth control has liberated us to enjoy greater sexual fulfillment whilst giving us control over our lives and particularly given women power to claim their own reproductive rights. Without medical intervention I myself would have died at 3 years old from appendicitis, and it's likely many others here would have suffered similar fates.<br />
<br />
Our unquenchable curiosity has led us to investigate the fundamental mechanisms that govern the world around us. The resulting theories of quantum mechanics and electrodynamics provided the foundation for modern electronics that pervades every aspect of our modern lives, allowing us to transfer data at the blink of an eye and communicate around the globe.<br />
<br />
Again I think it's no coincidence that many of these advances have been made in the last 200 years when the church's stranglehold of power in Europe has been on the wane. When given freedom to think and analyse and experiment, what humans can achieve is amazing!<br />
<br />
But as well as the esoteric deliberations of science, we humans are uniquely capable of rational analyis on a more mundane level - relating to the laws and principles which we should apply to our own society in order to make our lives and those of others happier and healthier; granting freedom to allow people to live their lives as they wish while protecting the rights of anyone on whom that might impinge.<br />
<br />
This is essentially the same sound principle instilled in me by my physics teacher back at school and which I'd endeavoured to live by thereafter. It is also fundamental to many humanist beliefs, yet if you'd asked me 8 years ago if I was a humanist, I'd have answered "a what!?".<br />
<br />
For all my pontifications on life, the universe and everything, I'm ashamed to admit that I don't think I'd ever heard the term "humanist". In fact my first conscious recollection of the word was after the death of the wonderfully witty radio 4 comedienne, Linda Smith, who died tragically from ovarian cancer at the age of 48 in February 2006. Linda had requested a humanist funeral, and when it was outlined on the radio what that meant - the rejection of supernatural spiritualism, and the celebration of human endeavour - I thought "I think I might be one of them!".<br />
<br />
So that's when I first discovered the humanist movement. Since then I've realised that nearly all my views on life are a reflection of humanist values:<br />
A belief in basic human rights,<br />
Gender and sex equality,<br />
Opposition to capital punishment,<br />
Opposition to religious segregation and faith schools<br />
Universal equality.<br />
etc.<br />
<br />
These are all values that I think are a rational conclusion from a simple aim to make the world a better, fairer place for all.<br />
<br />
So there you are: for most of my life I've been a humanist and didn't even know it!<br />
<br />
It may be that I'm unique in that, but I prefer to think that there are probably many other people out there who share our humanist beliefs but are unaware of organisations like the BHA who represent us. It's up to us to broadcast that message and get those people on board to help seed our views in society and make the world a better, fairer place.<br />
<br />
Thank you..."</blockquote>
The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-71202583918818038402011-10-29T14:29:00.000-07:002011-10-29T15:45:23.832-07:00Best Served ColdChatting to one of my lovely sisters-in-law the other day, she told me how she had opened a packet of Liquorice Allsorts only to be disappointed to find a complete absence of her favourite coconut 'sorts. She wrote to Bassetts about the let-down and in return received a very apologetic letter from the manufacturers explaining that the quantities were governed entirely by random chance so were really out of their control. To make amends, they had included a large selection box of their confectionaries and a further £20 worth of Bassetts vouchers!<div><br /></div><div>This reminded me of my own story from when I was a student involving the mighty multi-national Mars corporation...</div><div><br /></div><div>Having just returned from morning lectures I was passing through the dimly-lit corridor of the college feeling peckish so decided to buy a Mars bar from the vending machine. As I bit into it I immediately realised something wasn't right: the chocolate coating was brittle and there was an unpleasant bitter taste to it. Upon examination in brighter conditions I could see there was a pale discolouration covering the entire bar - rather like mildew - quite inedible. So I wrote to Mars telling them of my plight.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sure enough a couple of weeks later, a letter appeared in my inbox. It explained that if chocolate is not kept at a correct temperature the cocoa butter can diffuse to the surface causing the discolouration and bitter taste. It then went on to tell me not to worry, it wasn't harmful, and included a postal order for 22p - the exact cost of the Mars Bar plus a postage stamp.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks, Mars. Thanks a fucking bundle...</div><div> </div></div>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-7681399265885550752011-07-09T10:40:00.000-07:002011-07-16T05:38:59.505-07:00Probably Perfect...<div>Earlier this year the electorate of the UK proved themselves to be ~70% idiots by rejecting the opportunity to make a small step to reforming the nation's archaic voting system via the adoption of AV. The debate was palpably poor on both sides with many misleading claims and some outrageous lies, the ultimately successful "NO" campaign being particularly scurrilous with their literature.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, as result of this debacle, I resolved to come up with a voting system which addressed all the criticisms of <i>both</i> sides. The result of this consideration is the voting system I've designated "Pickering's Probably Perfect Vote" system - though in the interests of brevity I'm happy to drop the "probably" and shorten it to PPV.</div><div><br /></div><div>The intrinsic benefits of this system are:</div><ul><li>Gives proper PR for parliamentary representation</li><li>Totally eliminates safe seats - <i>guaranteed!</i></li><li>Eliminates tactical voting- <i>guaranteed!</i></li><li>One person, one vote</li><li>Voters just put a simple X (none of this tricky counting to 3)</li><li>Compatible with independent candidates (no party lists)</li><li>Cheap to implement (cheaper than FPTP!)</li><li>Combats voter apathy</li><li>Ensures all votes count equally</li><li>Defeats gerrymandering<br /></li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">So How Does It Work?<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>Under PPV an election is carried out just like under the current FPTP voting system. Each voter simply puts an X next to the <span style="font-style: italic;">one</span> candidate they'd most like to win. The "magic" happens once the ballots have been cast: the ballot papers are all placed into one gigantic hat, shuffled well, and then a single paper drawn. The named candidate selected by that paper is the winner. Job done.<br /><br />This technique works because the probability for drawing one particular candidate's name from the hat is of course proportional to the number of votes cast for them. As a candidate, getting most people to vote for you increases your chances of being selected, but unlike FPTP that doesn't guarantee you'll win. This may at first seem unfair, but in fact it's the crucial factor for achieving the balanced parliamentary representation that's so conspicuously deficient in the UK's current voting system.<br /><br />While it's <span style="font-style: italic;">possible</span> that a candidate <span style="font-style: italic;">could</span> get selected with a relatively small vote over a more popular one, it's <span style="font-style: italic;">improbable</span> that that <span style="font-style: italic;">will</span> happen. And when the random element is averaged out by effectively repeated sampling over many constituencies, a remarkable picture emerges: from a political party point-of-view, the overall number of MPs selected by PPV matches amazingly well with the proportion of votes cast for that party. Computer simulations show the degree of agreement to be generally within 2% - a much better match than with FPTP.<br /><br />So by randomly <span style="font-style: italic;">sampling</span> the constituency votes, rather than by <span style="font-style: italic;">systematically</span> counting them, the overall result is actually a <span style="font-weight: bold;">whole lot fairer</span>. This may at first seem counter-intuitive but is actually quite logical. The point is that it's clear that the principle of representing the choices of a particular constituency and the principle of representing the overall choices of the electorate are at odds with each other. Under FPTP the former is given complete precedence and the latter given no consideration whatsoever. It only appears that a reasonable result is achieved because of the natural variations due to cultural differences and clustering of political viewpoints to different constituencies. To appreciate this, imagine that PartyA had 34% of the vote, whilst PartyB and PartyC had 33% each. If this balance was distributed evenly across the whole country, then PartyA would actually have a 100% majority - a total travesty of fairness! Under PPV the parliamentary representations would be an almost perfect reflection of the voters's wishes.<br /><br />So in fact the only reason FPTP works is by clustering the electorate into regions of social and political identity, but in doing so the system effectively disenfranchises anyone with minority views and at the same time creates the "safe seats" that have been blamed for so many MPs's indiscretions. Under PPV, <b>every</b> vote is equal and carries the same chance as the others of selecting the winning candidate.<div><br /></div><div>And of course the geographical dependence of FPTP makes it open to manipulation by adjustment of constituency boundaries to favour a certain outcome - the process known as gerrymandering. Whilst that could still be attempted under PPV the act of increasing a party's selection in one constituency would similarly reduce their chances of selection in the neighbouring region thereby foiling any overall advantage.<div><br /><b>The Big Bonus</b></div><div>One huge advantage of PPV over FPTP is that without the burden of all that laborious counting it will be <b>much cheaper</b>. While this shouldn't really be the prime concern in matters of democracy, it was an issue that was given much weight by the AV "NO" campaigners, so they all should really be delighted by the savings that PPV has to offer. However, it seems fair that this efficiency should be shared back with the electorate, so it's therefore proposed that as well as the draw for the election result, each legitimate voter is also allowed to enter a ballot (with their contact or bank details) for a second draw, the winner of which receives a prize of £5k. This addresses concerns of voter apathy with a carrot rather than a stick: a carrot bestowed by the adoption of a voting system which is finally truly fair for all...</div><div><br />Andy</div><div>19/10/11<br /><br /><br /></div></div>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-29899042327387870762011-04-18T14:12:00.001-07:002011-04-18T14:51:44.200-07:00Who says politicians aren't honest...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Last week on BBC Question Time it was Michael Howard; the week before it was Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt; both these stalwarts of the Conservative party showed truly admirable honesty when asked about the impending referendum on electoral reform. Both said they were against AV and wanted to stick with FPTP, and both - when asked about their reasons - brazenly said that it was the best thing for <i>their party</i>!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">That's right... the best thing for </span><b>their party</b>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Not one iota of thought for what's best for <i>the electorate</i>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Not one morsel of consideration for what's best for <i>the country</i>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Just what's best for <b>their party</b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Howard even had the temerity to sneer at AV for not even being proportionally representative. A tacit but blatant admission that he's well aware of the iniquities of the current voting system and how it fails to elect a parliament representing the true views of the electorate. Indeed with all the tactical voting spurred by the FPTP system, we can't even tell what the balance of views really is... But for Howard all that matters is what's best for <b>his party</b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">There is a big smear operation currently underway from the no2av campaign spreading lies and fear about AV. What's undeniable however is just who stands to gain by keeping the current FPTP system: it isn't you or I, it's the old guard MPs incumbent in safe seats with a job for life whose only motive is to put their self-interest ahead of real fairness.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">This referendum is the best opportunity in a lifetime for getting the ball rolling for putting real power back in the hands of the electorate. I would urge every voter from every political persuasion to go out and vote for AV in May and seize this chance...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">As Thomas Jefferson said:<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. When the government fears the people, there is liberty."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Let's take back our parliament...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Andy |:-)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-66464172296632182932011-03-02T14:35:00.000-08:002011-04-03T16:12:08.312-07:00A Flock of UFOs<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">With an upcoming visit to Birmingham SITP from eminent UFOlogist, Nick Pope, I thought I would mention my own memorable sighting of a whole squadron of UFOs from about 10 years ago.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">It was around 11pm one early autumn evening and I had gone outside into our garden in the residential suburbs of Rugby when I happened to glance above me into the clear dark starry skies. I was astounded to see way up almost directly above me a group of 6 identical craft with a stunted chevron shape - somewhat like that of a jet fighter, or a space shuttle but with slightly longer wings - speeding along at a remarkable rate. I immediately realised these were no conventional aircraft: they were eerily silent and there were none of the usual lights - instead they just emanated a dim orange glow. I watched them in awe as they flew sinisterly off into the distance, my heart pounding. Could this be the start of a Hollywood-style invasion??</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">And then the rationality kicked in...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Although I had been immediately convinced I had seen some form of vehicle, there was something about the flight formation that looked familiar. After a few moments it occurred to me it was exactly the same geometry V-formation as formed by a flock of gulls. And with that thought, all my misconceptions came toppling down...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bEAcD8r9XdE/TYUiV-ZU16I/AAAAAAAAAA4/GdvLotZrHd8/s1600/Gulls3.png"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bEAcD8r9XdE/TYUiV-ZU16I/AAAAAAAAAA4/GdvLotZrHd8/s320/Gulls3.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585908673744787362" style="cursor: pointer; width: 480px; height: 219px; " /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The whole fantasy was seeded by my expectations of what I was likely to see (and perhaps an element of wishful thinking). While it was rather unusual to see gulls flying at that time of night, aircraft were commonplace - indeed the region is one of the busiest sectors of airspace in Britain.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Having locked onto that fallacious conjecture, my visual cognition then distorted all my perceptions to make it fit with its theory. Rather than seeing 40cm long birds flying at 30mph at a height of 40m (barely illuminated by the suburban sodium lighting), my sense of scale - totally deceived by the dim conditions - decided they were 60m long craft, 600m up and travelling at 450mph. The paucity of light fore-shortened the gulls wings and made it impossible to detect any flapping, which is why I didn't immediately recognise them - even as a keen birder! [Gull wingbeats are relative shallow and sedate anyway.]</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Once the penny had dropped, it made me realise just how easy it is to be fooled. With my 20+ years of birdwatching experience I'd always considered myself to have well-honed observational skills, so I felt particularly embarrassed for making such an elementary error and for it taking so long to come to my proper senses. And it's funny how it wasn't until <span style="font-style:italic;">after</span> the event, that my rational objectivity took over; while the "UFOs" were passing my sense of excitement seemed actively to suppress a more objective viewpoint...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Andy</span></div></span>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-15863921855546675432011-02-15T13:34:00.000-08:002011-02-16T15:18:22.125-08:00A bout de gout...<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Well here I am in the throes of another bout of suffering and self-pity. What started out as a very slight discomfort in the first metacarpal of my big toe a couple of weeks ago, eventually grew somewhat falteringly into a full-blown inflammation of my right foot, with all its attendant agony - hopefully reaching its final crescendo last night.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">For those who have never suffered the affliction of gout, when the pain is at its peak (which invariably comes on during the night), it manifests at several levels. There's an all-pervading throb that emanates from the swollen joint, radiant with inflammation: this totally saps one's energy and is impossible to ignore - like a nagging toothache. And then there's the searing agony caused by the slightest movement or involuntary muscle spasm. And just to add to the fun, the effort of consciously trying to keep absolutely still often brings on a simultaneous attack of cramp!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">When at its peak, even the best pain-killers only seem to take a little off the edge of the pain, and it's quite natural to irrationally fantasise about how much better a prospect amputation would be...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">And one of the most annoying things about the whole thing is that there are no external agents to blame for the suffering - it's entirely due to the failing of one's own body chemistry. What happens is that urates in the blood produced by the digestive system start to form uric acid crystals in the soft tissues of vulnerable joints, prompting inflammation. As the crystals grow, any slight movement of the joint makes them tear at the inflamed tissues producing excruciating pain. Uric acid is relatively insoluble and so once formed the crystals take several days to disperse even if/when the blood urate level has returned to a tolerable level.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Particularly galling for me is that the factors that normally render someone vulnerable to gout are: being obese (okay I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">slightly</span> over the "ideal" range for my height-weight bell curve); eating too much red meat (I'm vegetarian); and drinking too much ale and red wine (I'm a moderate cider drinker). Indeed my blood tests have indicated a relatively innocuous level of urates relative to that normally associated with the condition.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">So it seems I'm one of those rare unlucky people who's prone to gout even with relatively normal urate levels. The consequence of which being that the benefit of preventative medications (such as allopurinol) which act by controlling blood urates is likely to be of questionable efficacy for me.<br /><br />I will treat this latest episode as an incentive to lose a little of my excess weight and cut down more on the alcohol, but can't really start on that til I'm mobile again and in the mean time I'll just continue to feel sorry for myself... :-(</span>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588064578991781401.post-78800366910286960242010-10-24T02:26:00.000-07:002010-10-27T08:38:36.973-07:00The Bad Samaritan<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Many years ago I heard our front door bell chime late one February Saturday afternoon. At the door was a man in his late 30's who totally fitted the stereotypical look of a born-again Christian wearing a camel-hair coat over a tweed suit, along with a grey woollen scarf to keep out the winter's chill as it was overcast and bitterly cold. Accompanying him was a young boy of about 9 years old. The lad - presumably his son - was well wrapped up but it was nevertheless evident that he was really feeling the cold. He stood back behind his father shivering - just staring at the cold concrete path with only the occasional shuffle of his feet. Sure enough the man opened the conversation by asking me if I'd ever stopped to think about what life was all about and whether I was looking for a deeper meaning to my existence. He removed a pair of smart lined leather gloves to make it easier for him to flip through a Bible he'd been carrying to find the bookmarks he'd inserted to locate his favourite morsels of ancient wisdom.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">While the man started to quote Biblical platitudes, I looked down at the child and wondered whether his knitted mittens would be so effective for keeping out the cold. I wondered whether to invite them into the warmth of the house, but then - it shames me to say - was struck by an intense wave of cynical irritation. "Has this guy just dragged the poor kid along for emotional blackmail - to goad his targets into letting them into their homes?", I wondered. "Well </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">I'm</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">certainly not falling</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"> for </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">that</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">!"</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">So I politely but curtly explained that I wasn't interested in his religion or his messages of salvation and bade him an assertive goodbye, whereupon he and the boy trudged off apologetically and somewhat dejectedly to the next house on the street.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Almost 20 years on I still feel bad about having let this cynicism win me over. I'm sure I would handle the situation very differently today. For a start, even if the lad </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">was</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"> being used as an emotional pawn (and there's no evidence other than my own suspicion to suppose he was), it wasn't his fault: I should still have invited them in from the cold, made them drinks, offered them food, found the lad some books to read or TV programme to watch whilst I patiently listened to the man's beliefs before calmly explaining to him how much more meaning I find in the world by accepting - indeed relishing - its godlessness. I'm sure it would have given them both some cheer on that bleak afternoon even if they had struck zero on their successful conversion rate.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">What is particularly poignant to me now is the fact that of all the Bible stories I was told during my childhood, only one really struck me as truly worthy: that of the good Samaritan. It's a story that really has nothing to do with God - it's just a simple tale of human compassion and how kindness to strangers can overcome adversity. I'd always believed that I would have been like that good Samaritan and extended the helping hand of friendship. Well hopefully next time...</span>The Rational Pixieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10811476348822181122noreply@blogger.com1