The things that matter....

It is the little things, they say, that make life worth living, words that carry great weight at a time when a speck of badly-behaving matter, so minute that only the most powerful electron microscopes can etc, etc, is causing worldwide chaos and ruin. Scaled up to our everyday lives, this same speck is providing store keepers and supermarket chains everywhere with a thorough evaluation of their stocks, a salutatory lesson in what really matters in our lives: soap, toilet roll, nappies, tissues, bread, milk, teabags, fresh produce, frozen produce, in fact, every type of produce. And still sitting pretty, amid the barren wasteland of empty shelves, are a myriad chocolate eggs and chocolate boxes, all packaged glamorously in anticipation of Easter, a lonely and heartbreaking sight. And seldom in a lifetime have the minutest of minor victories meant so much to so many people, like happening upon the last packet of chicken goujons in Aldi, and the third-last bar of Dove soap in Waitrose. I could go on and on, but I have made my point and to finish, I will say that it is a pleasure to hear shoppers telling the lady or gent seated at the checkout to “stay well” and actually mean it – egad! Maybe we are human, after all. Like I said, it is the little things that matter. On that note, I hope all you readers stay well etc, etc…..

Dear Dominic Cummings.....

...it has come to my notice that you are looking for "weirdos and misfits" to work on your team of advisers; well, I present the perfect candidate. 
She is too old to find a proper job, too young to die, too stupid - in spite of having two degrees - to be an academic and too lazy to do anything else. Like I said, the perfect candidate. Her proposal for a better society is nothing short of revolutionary, but since you need new ideas, here it is.  It is called simply, social inclusion and this is how it works: 
1. Everyone will live in a decent, affordable dwelling.
2. Everyone will have an incontrovertible right to food, fuel and clothing - no resorting to charities or food banks. 
3. Everyone will have access to decent healthcare - not just fertility treatment - but do read on. It gets weirder. 
4. Everyone will have access to education at every level, from nursery to PhD, with no so-called tuition fees involved or other financial penalties.
5. Everyone will have access to work or training, right through life.
6. No one will be made suffer because of being poor, disabled, lean, fat, bald, short, stupid, tall, black, white or foreign.
  Like I said, revolutionary. But you are looking for misfits, are you not?  So, how about it, Mr C ?  Send me that magic job contract forthwith and together, you and I will be a national tour de force, sincerely, etc. 
https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2020/feb/19/sabisky-row-dominic-cummings-criticised-over-designer-babies-post

Wake up and smell the coffee.....

Well, well, well – it or something like it had to happen sooner or later. I’m talking about the latest scandal to hit the arts’ world, name, the advertising by Tate Gallery for a “coffee curator”, a position paying a salary of £40k. My first reaction upon seeing the bylines was – wow! At last, recognition, fame and a measure of fortune for conceptual artists with the bottle to create installations out of coffee. Damien, your day is done. But….
On further investigation, I found out that Tate are hiring a non-painting/drawing/sculpting manager, complete with talented nose, with the ability to suss out the finest brands of coffee with which to serve the myriad visitors to the Tate group of galleries, throughout the year. The controversy arises over, it seems, the stark fact that curators at the galleries only get paid, on average, a mere £37, 775 per year. Why should a mere “head of coffee” earn so much more?
It is a question that no one has provided an articulate answer for and quite frankly, I don’t see why so many people get heated up over learning what other subjects are earning. As an art history graduate, I do not lack empathy with museum and gallery curators. But everyone has to live, butchers, bakers and coffee curators, et al. Taking bread from the mouths of one of these isn’t going to make the other guv better off. If anything, this “controversy” should raise questions about the current uneven system of income distribution, about our attitudes towards entitlement, production and consumption. Next time I go to see an exhibition in Tate, I will simply say: “Mine’s a latte….” https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-51310516

The Polar Express

Ah, the Season of Goodwill is with us once again; a season of crass commercialism and of glorious generosity, of bitter cold and of hot mince pies, and as the intonings of Bleak Midwinter sound in the background, I pose the question that I have asked many times and I will ask again: why is the animated movie,
Polar Express (Robert Zemeckis, 2004) not up with other seasonal greats such as Elf (Jon Favreau, 2003) and
White Christmas (Michael Curtiz, 1954)? On watching it for the hundredth time, it seems, its combo of ingredients strikes me vividly; a strong story, emotionally gripping characters and extraordinary animation and even, a pointed literary reference, none of which have grown tired through repeated viewings. On the contrary, I look forward to watching it again (and again), to hopping on board and riding that gloriously steampunky train filled with children in various states of eagerness and cynicism, to travel to the North Pole on Christmas Eve. I love all of the characters, from the non-believing hero-boy to sad Billy from the “wrong” side of town, the spooky Conductor and the ghostly tramp who hangs out on top of the carriages and even, the pair of nutters who actually control the train. I look forward to riding with them again (and again) through wolf-inhabited forests and across frozen lakes, careening down precarious gorges and alongside mountain slopes and eventually, riding triumphantly into the glowing bauble that is Elven town, a place where the elf inhabitants devote their lives to making toys and equipping Santa for the annual Big Night. Every detail is gorgeous; the hundreds of little elves in their traditional red and green, the colourful wrappings on the thousands of gifts in the toy warehouse and of course, the resplendent Santa with his sleigh and team of reindeer. The musical interventions are few in number, gentle in style and non-intrusive, all designed to push the story forward rather than dominate the action. Overall, it is a heart-warming work, filled with acts of loyalty and friendship, with covert comments on greed and cynicism. Like I said, why is the Polar Express not more popular among children – of all ages?
A peaceful and prosperous Christmas to all readers....

Not just a pretty flower.......wonderful pelargonium

I don’t often wax lyrical about “healthcare” products, but a recent experience has left me so unhinged, I just had to put fingers to keyboard. The facts are these. About three weeks ago, I contracted a spiteful bug that laid me low, rendering me Camille-like, tossing and turning with fever on bed and couch. Two days later, the fever had gone but so had my voice, and a host of aches and pains had rushed in to fill the void, plus eruptions of coughing violent enough to put an active Vesuvius to shame. With just over a week to go before delivering a lecture, I was in panic.
Friend, I tried everything, hot drinks, saltwater gargles, Vitamin C and zinc supplements, not to mention munching on as many grapes, apples and antioxidant produce as my compromised lower quarters could bear plus sleeping enough to rival Rip Van Winkle. In addition, I worked my way through a mountain of tissues and a small warehouse-full of painkillers, throat pastilles and cough mixture. With two days to go, my voice was still a croak and I was still busting into fits of Vesuvian coughing. In desperation, I wandered to the nearest Holland and Barrett, and providence – it could only have been providence – led my quivering fingers to KALOBA pelargonium cough and cold relief. To make a long story short, within twelve hours of beginning the supplement, the coughing subsided, my voice recovered enough to give my talk and just over a week later, I am cough, cold and sniffle free. Not being a trained clinician, I cannot judge the extent to which the vitamins and antioxidants contributed to the cold cure. But I do not believe it a coincidence that my full recovery began when I began taking the KALOBA. Incidentally, pelargonium is a member of the pink and pretty geranium family, and is used in perfume-making and flavouring a range of foods, as well as medicine. Again, I’m no clinician but if you are trying to get rid of a lingering cough – why not try it? (100 ml retails at £7.99 in Holland and Barrett.)

When meals on the bus are out of bounds…..

Friends, when I heard about the latest gimcrack notion spinning about in order to improve our lives, I fell to laughing – and then, when I realised the implications for me, I began to weep. Because, if “they” do put the notion in motion, then we really will be living in a nightmare dystopia. In case you haven’t heard, a certain academic has put forward the theory that banning the consumption of food on public transport will curb childhood obesity – yes, I did write that. Friends, I ask: in what universe does food consumed on trains and buses – as opposed to say, in people’s homes, and in cafes and restaurants, and in canteens and dining halls - gain in calorific value? And bear in mind the implications for our wider culture; instances of passengers convening in railway dining carriages have served as time-honoured triggers to best-selling novels and blockbuster movies.
Then, I reread the spec and realised that the notion only applied to food consumed on urban transport – ah, intercity travellers, rest assured. But friends, I ask, in what universe does food consumed in an urban environment gain in calorific value as opposed to say, food eaten amid green fields, forests and on rocky mountains? But what do I know – maybe the theory has been tried and tested and proved fruitful? In which case, what does this academic say to the hordes of adult workers who thread their way across town centre and suburb daily, from one low-paid gig to another? Where are we, without access to a well-stocked canteen or 5-star dining facility, supposed to nibble our much-needed sandwiches and sesame-seed crackers? In case said academic is unaware, work without calorie supply is impossible. (If in doubt, please consult the first law of thermodynamics!!!) Sure, we could consume our comestibles out of doors, but it all begs the question: where will “they” ban eating next – underneath trees, on park benches, in public squares….?
https://www.theguardian.com/food/shortcuts/2019/oct/10/eating-on-public-transport-human-right

Va....va......vanish!

I don’t often sing the praises of a cleaning product. However, I’d like to draw readership attention to the virtues of Vanish Gold Carpet Care – yes, the one in the pink and gold plastic bag with those advertisements that have been assaulting our eyeballs to oblivion, this past summer. For years, I had struggled to keep my living/bedroom/hall carpet clean using water and detergent – and with not undesirable results. However, the heat of the past summer dictated a more passive approach to cleaning. The Vanish process is actually quite simple; vacuum all loose dirt from the carpet. Shake the Vanish dispensing bag and remove the underside tabs to reveal the perforations. Walk across the carpet, sprinkling the powder as evenly as possible. Take a brush and work the powder into the pile. At this point, pet and human hair will rise to the surface, but it is no bother to toss this gunk into a small bag as work progresses – and discard later. This “working in” takes the largest chunk of time, but it is still surprisingly quick, 20 minutes in my instance. Following this, it is a good idea to allow Vanish lie fallow for a little while, as long as it takes to read a magazine story or two and down a cup of coffee, perhaps? Vacuum the treated areas carefully – and open a window or door to enable the high-octane scent to vanish (sic). It takes another hour or so for the carpet to “dry” completely, and for the five Vanish benefits to manifest fully: to rid the carpet of dirt, odours and pet hairs, and to soften the carpet fibres and to return them to their original freshness. On all counts, Vanish scores well – although the “pet” hairs in question were actually mine. And the carpet does indeed feel softer and look fresher. In short, my carpet is almost restored to its original, pure-wool glistening purity – be aware that mine is a pale, neutral shade – and that a few of the more ingrained patches of soil will require additional treatments. However….