Who says politicians aren't honest...

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 their party!

That's right... the best thing for their party.

Not one iota of thought for what's best for the electorate.

Not one morsel of consideration for what's best for the country.

Just what's best for their party.

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 his party.

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.

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...

As Thomas Jefferson said: "When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. When the government fears the people, there is liberty."

Let's take back our parliament...

Andy |:-)

A Flock of UFOs

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.

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??

And then the rationality kicked in...

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...

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.

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.]

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 after 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...

Andy

A bout de gout...

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.

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!

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...

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.

Particularly galling for me is that the factors that normally render someone vulnerable to gout are: being obese (okay I'm slightly 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.

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.

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... :-(

The Bad Samaritan

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.

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 I'm certainly not falling for that!"

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.

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 was 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.

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...