“Post-truth” was the Oxford English Dictionary’s Word of the Year for 2016 and is my favoured genre; before then it was “fake-news”. This section is for those who are daft enough to enjoy this kind of nonsense and smart enough to see it for what it is.
Warning: strong language, references to sex, philosophy, science and politics. No animals were harmed in the writing of these posts.
Horologists are working around the clock to ensure that the world’s most iconic timepiece and in particular its eponymous great bell are working in time for the next official opening of parliament in 2021. Contractors acknowledged being late and over budget and were told by the Westminster Clerk of Works, Ben Little, that the “clock is ticking”, an unfortunate turn of phrase seized upon by the media who were quick to point out that “the clock is very much not ticking”.
This soon deteriorated into a tsunami of silly questions and jokes which the wretched Clerk was totally unprepared for. The Daily Express asked if this was a “wind up”, the Mail on Sunday suggested that management should have been more “hands on”. A Sun reporter called him a “two-faced bell end” who had “dropped a major clanger and should be strung up”. Another reporter said it was “time to ring in the changes” and “expel the bats from the Westminster belfry”. Mr Little provided scant cause for comfort, as he was unable to confirm whether or not the work would be finished on time.
Big Ben is the nickname for the Great Bell of the striking clock at the north end of the Palace of Westminster in London and is usually extended to refer to both the clock and the clock tower. The official name of the tower in which Big Ben is located was originally the Clock Tower, but it was renamed Elizabeth Tower in 2012 to mark the Diamond Jubilee of Elizabeth II.
The tower was designed by Augustus Pugin in a neo-Gothic style. When completed in 1859, its clock was the largest and most accurate four-faced striking and chiming clock in the world.
On 21 August 2017, a four-year schedule of renovation works began on the tower, which are to include the addition of a lift. There are also plans to re-glaze and repaint the clock dials. With a few exceptions, such as New Year’s Eve and Remembrance Sunday, the bells are to be silent until the work is completed in 2021.
Why swap a vintage Lada for a cheap BMW? Why build a McDonalds in an improvement area? Why tear down a perfectly good wall? These fascinating questions and their answers give us a glimpse into the enigmatic nature of the Berliner. From dictators and despots through presidents and pastries, history has shown the Berliner to be a determined, if ill-defined force in the battle against conservatism, mediocrity and restraint. Why, after only a few minutes in that heady atmosphere of downtown Kurfürstendamm, was I overwhelmed by the urge to buy a pair of leopardskin platform shoes? Berlin is a city of extremes. Agony and ecstasy cuddle one another in an uneasy alliance born of adversity. The exquisite ecstasy of my purchase was finely balanced against the extreme agony of my feet. Those of you who know what that means may be indulging in a little Schadenfreude right now. Well, fuck you!!
As is the custom on my travels, my first night was spent “re-orientating”. This involves writing the name of the hotel on the soles of my feet and spraying an area in front of the main entrance. I was reassured to see that the neighbourhood, flush with upmarket shops and restaurants, had an elegant sufficiency of luxury goods on offer. Opposite the hotel, nestling between two boutiques, is a darkly glowing erotic bar, with “rooms upstairs” (so I’m told) . Round the corner, just past the railway bridge at Savigny Platz, is a fully-fledged brothel stocked with beauties from the Eastern Block (or so the barman tells me). Well, you may be asking, why, with an empty trolley in the supermarket of love, did I not treat myself to a microwave dinner? You see, with two perfectly good porn channels beamed directly into my hotel room (so the brochure says), it simply wasn’t necessary.
Berlin and I go back a long way. In 1987 we both had walls to be proud of. Neither the British Met Office nor the German Government was able to predict the orgy of destruction that was to follow over the next two years. Ever since then, I have been incubating a growing guilt for spending the insurance money on fancy clothes and wild parties. In its own way, Germany has trodden the same path. It has spent over £20 billion on a massive urban regeneration programme in this city alone. This money has been squandered on infrastructure, buildings and business and community development schemes. Like the perimeter of my garden, it is unlikely that the Berlin wall will be rebuilt in the foreseeable future. Years of painstaking work by an impoverished communist government and kilometres of priceless graffiti were raised to the ground in a matter of days in the name of freedom and unification. Hundreds of soldiers and guard dogs lost their jobs overnight as wall fever gripped the nation, dazzling East Berliners in the glaring excesses of the West. Fortunately, the sections of the wall are numbered, so in theory at least, it could be reconstructed if the political will is there. Not so with my sad pile of bricks back home, cruelly mocking me with their triumphant anarchy. We’ll see.
Enough of the wall per se. One of the things I wanted to do on this trip was to explore the differences between Berlin now and as it was when I was last there in 1987; that is Berlin with and without the wall. Apart from superficial differences, like seeing lots of East Germans in the shopping malls, a distinct lack of Ladas and the construction of new government buildings to house the parliament when it finally moves here, the most noticeable change has been the weather. Last time I was here, temperatures were in the thirties and the place was awash with bronzed, half-naked bodies (wholly naked in some places), iced coffee was being drunk like it was going out of fashion (which it was) and air-conditioning was a non-negotiable right.
Now I look out of my hotel room across a bleak snowscape, the Siberian winds howling across the yawning gap that used to be the wall. Traffic is at a standstill. Drifts build up in doorways and between cars. Those hardy enough to be out tramp silently through the heaving whiteness, buried deep inside layers of rubber, leather and PVC. No-one in their right mind could ascribe this sea change to mere chance or a winter/summer thing. No, it is a direct consequence of removing the wall at a critical point where two weather systems meet. It is imperative that the wall be put back as soon as possible, before Berlin becomes just another frozen penal colony on the fringes of civilisation.
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau revealed this afternoon that he is planning to build a wall along the entire US-Canadian border and that he is asking Donald Trump to pay for it.
A senior source close to the PM has leaked that this plan predates the COVID-19 outbreak and that the pandemic has simply provided a good opportunity to announce it.
When questioned off the record as to whether the wall was intended to stem the flow of corona virus victims across the border, he was heard to reply “and the rest!”. He went on to say that America has always treated Canada as a second class nation and that it was time show them otherwise. President Trump has yet to comment on the plan.
A paper published this week by the Department of Comparative Linguistics at the University of Melbourne, Australia reports that out of a sample of 150,000 native English speakers from around world excluding North America, only 5% were able to reliably identify a Canadian accent. Of the remaining 95%, only 12% said they actually cared. Creating a border wall will cause accents to diverge and help Canadians to be distinguished from their southern neighbours. Mr Trudeau said he would prefer it if everybody spoke French. In another study, researchers concluded that most people couldn’t tell the difference between a French accent and a French Canadian one. He said he didn’t think a wall would fix that one so easily (also off the record).
Diamonds are forever but ozone is a girl’s best friend
Inventor and entrepreneur Carl Nicholson has revealed details of a new technology which promises to revolutionise the way we combat both global warming and ozone layer depletion in one device. Called RAM for “Reverse Armageddon Machine”, the device extracts carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and converts it into diamonds and ozone using solar energy alone. The massively negative carbon footprint of the prototype is mooted to be forty kilograms of carbon removed per megawatt-hour of solar energy, producing four million dollars worth of industrial quality diamonds and over a hundred kilogrammes of eighty percent pure ozone (the other twenty percent being oxygen) every day.
This highly guarded secret will be made public when trials finish next year and he applies for worldwide patents. In the meantime Nicholson says he is working on refinements which will allow the percentage of ozone to be varied from zero to one hundred percent. Sources close to him also suggest that he is on the verge of using the device to produce gem quality diamonds. He won’t comment on this, but it is understood at the moment that this is a much slower and less cost-effective process. He says he is more interested in a deal with the airlines to deliver ozone to depleted areas of the planet and is prepared to use some of the profits from the diamonds to achieve this. He is already in talks with Richard Branston of Maiden Atlantic and Michael O’Flaherty of Bryan Air.
So, is this the philosopher’s stone or the cold fusion of global warming? We asked a few top people in the field what they knew and thought about Nicholson’s claims for RAM. Scientists at MIT, Oregon were sceptical. They say they’ve been working on a similar device, but the ozone yield is much lower and they haven’t been able to produce diamonds at all. They doubt it is possible to create the pressures needed to produce diamonds using the kind of technology the RAM team describes. They are also doubtful about the performance of the catalysts used to convert oxygen to ozone and vice versa. Professor Alan Bentall, of the Cambridge School of Mines said “This is a load of hype to raise the share price before selling out to some diamond mining company.” and went on to add “On the other hand, if there is anything in it [RAM] then it is a serious threat to the diamond industry and worth a great deal of money. I don’t think he [Carl Nicholson] knows the kind of people he is dealing with.” The jury is still out on what Nicholson will do if the technology actually works, but now the Pandora’s box is well and truly open it is only a matter of time before something serious happens.
British Airways crews at the Brighton i360 are demanding parity with their short-haul flight colleagues. “Not only do they get paid more than us, they get more perks, such as foreign travel and discount flights.” said a spokesperson at an emergency meeting convened by the conciliation service ACAS.
Crews are threatening to stop operations with a full complement of “passengers” aloft and leave them there till management agrees to further talks. One senior BA executive was overheard saying “If they think they’ve got us over a barrel by stranding fifty people in an oversize cock ring 160m off the ground they can f*ck right off.” The CEO was unavailable for comment.
The Lord looked upon the land and was pleased with what He saw. It was the Sabbath and the people were resting and giving thanks for all that He had given them. Then He saw a sign saying “Be awesome today!” and was angered by it.
He decided in His infinite wisdom that, although it was the Sabbath, it was time to teach the people a lesson: that the word “awesome” is an awesome word and not to be taken lightly. So He visited upon the earth seven plagues in seven days, the like of which had never been seen. When He was finished and the last of the plagues was gone, He looked down upon the devastation and was pleased with what He saw.
Then He saw a man praying on his knees, the man who had written the sign. And he said
“Forgive me Lord for what I have done, but I didn’t mean that kind of awesome”.
And the Lord replied
“There is only one kind of awesome and now you have seen an example of it. Go and tell the people what you have seen and let that be an end to it.”
Thus was the rightful meaning of the word “awesome” restored.
“There’s a caterpillar on my letttuce!” These were the words uttered by angry farmer Kevin Giles (58) on seeing his neighbour, Lance Fielding (29), a builder, driving his CAT across the field of lettuce.
He had just lost a planning application to gain access to the main road via an old farm track and is appealing the decision. Meanwhile, the plucky builder has found his own way to the busy A27 near Alciston, East Sussex.