WhatisNews?

Busy

Jeez... things are mad around here. Still hammering away on the documentary, with about sixteen minutes on the timeline at the moment. But the schedule is completely screwed because I have to spend two big chunks of time between now and transmission working in Geneva with the Red Cross. Long-standing gig that I can't - and don't want to - duck out of.

After my momentary lapse the day before yesterday, lulled into loving BA by their nice lounge at Bristol airport, I am now once again truly annoyed with them. My flight back from Newcastle yesterday was cancelled and I was taken to Gatwick instead, where I had to get a taxi all the way back to Bristol. Got home about three hours late. Plus Concorde had its last flight. Well, I won't go on about it.

Anyway, best Diwali wishes to everyone out there... Will try to write again soon.

An executive writes

Am writing this in the BA posh lounge at Bristol airport. Cool, eh? It has free drinks and internet access that is unbelievably fast - so fast that you don't have to go and make a cup of tea while a page loads. In fact, you don't have to make a cup of tea at all because somebody else makes the tea for you. And brings it to you. And smiles at you, like you're important. Which I'm not. And I only get to sit in these places when there's been some sort of mistake.

Anyway, I'm on my way up to Newcastle, for work. Will need to dash for the gate in a second. Bristol airport has quite a cool bookshop (even though it's WH Smith). By cool, I mean it sells some books that don't have big gold letters on the front. I bought Michael Moore's "Dude Where's My Country?" because it's only available in hardback in normal shops, but this is a "travellers" edition.

Airports are quite scary these days - even cute, rural ones like Bristol. But I'm puzzled by the variety of security measures in operation around the country. Here they take a pic of you as you go through your baggage check with one of those webcam thingummies. This seems like a good idea. But they don't do it at Cardiff airport. And they don't do it at Newcastle. Why? You would have thought these things would be standardised.

Anyway, got to go. More later, hopefully.

Do the sums

Saw this on another blog. As the blogger didn't write it themselves but had it in an email, I think it's OK to lift it.

Next time you're asked to "give more than 100%" bear this in mind.

If:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U
V W X Y Z

is represented as

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26

Then:

H A R D W O R K

8 1 18 4 23 15 18 11 = 98%.

K N O W L E D G E

11 14 15 23 12 5 4 7 5 = 96%

But,

A T T I T U D E

1 20 20 9 20 21 4 5 = 100%

And,

B U L L S H I T

2 21 12 12 19 8 9 20 = 103%

Hard work and knowledge have their place. Attitude hits the right spot, but bullshit will get you over the edge.

But there's one that's even better.

1 19 19 11 9 19 19 9 14 7 = 118%.

Work it out for yourself.

Mile High

I don't know why I feel so sad about Concorde's passing.

There was never any chance of me flying on it. In fact, the closest I ever get to Concorde is when it goes over my head four times a day on its way backwards and forwards to NY - a faster-than-usual dot in the sky. Actually, no, that's not true. I've seen it on the ground at Heathrow. It looked really small (the way everybody famous is always small in real life) and very 1970s.

I'm uncomfortable about the fact that it was millions of ordinary tax-payers who coughed up for the plane's development back in the 60s and 70s - handing over shed-loads of tax wonga just so David Frost could get back in time for dinner.

But still, I don't know...

British Airways make me sick. They got Concorde for a song, (in fact they got it for nothing - the British government had to give it away because all the airlines wanted 747s instead). They (BA) proceeded to cream millions from it. Then, when things get a bit rocky after the Paris crash and 9/11 they dump it. Just because the profits aren't quite as high as they used to be. I love you, capitalism.

I suppose what's sad is that Concorde was one of the last things we made that was any good. These days the only thing Britain exports around the world is paedophiles. But back then it was different. Yes, I know it was an Anglo-French thing, but it was still 50% British. And while France has gone on to develop a thriving aerospace industry, our manufacturing base is making plastic owls to give away in Golden Nuggets breakfast cereal.

British aerospace industry unveils Concorde replacement.

This won't hurt a bit

I'm pleased to hear that some of those monkeys in India will be getting the snip. These dudes used to freak me out big-time. Not that there were many of them in Chennai, but over in Mahabs they were everywhere.

Apparently it's easier to sterilize male primates than female ones (unless you happen to be the male primate) and each newly-neutered monkey will get a microchip to make sure he isn't done twice. Ouch.

Monkeys in India watch man with scissors suspiciously.

Whoppers

Five months after it opened, the Burger King at Baghdad International Airport is now in the top ten most popular BK franchises on the planet (close behind the Merthyr drive-thru, presumably). The restaurant spews out 5,000 "patties" a day, whatever a "pattie" is.

BIA is home to around 6,000 troops, so there's a ready-made (non-Iraqi) clientele. But soldiers who don't live in the compound aren't so fortunate. "We're lucky if we can get over here once a month, we're so busy raiding houses and kicking down doors in the middle of the night," said one.

Meanwhile, Thai farmers have trapped the mojo of George W. Bush, put it in a clay pot and dumped it into a river. The farmers were protesting about plans for a free-trade agreement between Bangkok and Washington. The idea is that a mojo on the bottom of a river bed can't do anybody any harm.

You've got to hand it to those Thai farmers. Over here we'd just have a march from Battersea Park to Whitehall and then go to the pub.

Balls

I won £10 on the Lottery on Saturday, which is a fairly substantial life event on this farm, I can tell you. This brings my total winnings on the Lottery to £90, which isn't bad considering I've only invested about a grand in it. Although the Lottery's been going eight years, I didn't play for 18 months while I was abroad, because my Mum doesn't approve of telephone gambling (the face-to-face-betting-shop kind is OK). I could have asked a friend to buy me tickets, but I don't have a friend that I trusted enough to tell me if I'd won.
Me: "Hey Friend X - nice helicopter you're piloting... How did you afford that?"
Friend X: "Been working Saturdays..."

I now have a deal with my friend Emma that if either of us wins the big fella, we'll give the other £100k, which would double my chances of winning, if only E would get out of that low-numbers habit. Stewart wants a similiar deal but fails to realise that he also has to buy a ticket. Proof of Purchase necessary, Stew.

One of my winning balls from Saturday. Rub it up against you - it may bring you some of my luck.

Living in a Box

David Blaine keeps an eye out for stray golf balls

So Mr Blaine is finally out of his box. His reception in Britain has helped to restore my faith in this once-great country. I was particularly impressed by the City businessman who went down to Tower Bridge with his golf clubs and proceeded to whack balls at Mr Blaine. Or the bloke who banged drums every time Blaine tried to Zzz. All in stark contrast to credulous New Yorkers who've greeted previous Blaine "events" with open-eyed wonder. As my friend Stewart pointed out, there is absolutely nothing clever about what he's done. If he'd come out of the box 40 kilos overweight, well that would have been something.

Overweight, no - but at the end of it all, Blaine is an estimated £3m better off. Meanwhile if you want to see people starving for real, there are plenty of other places to choose from. And if you want to see people who've been living in (cardboard, not bullet-proof Perspex) boxes for years, why not try Doug from Bolton, who can be found underneath Charing Cross Bridge every night of the week? If you can't find Doug, don't worry. There are plenty of others.

My favourite Blaine gag? What's the difference between David Blaine and Emille Heskey? Heskey hasn't been in the box for years.

Times v Terminator

Was the LA Times right to run its piece about Arnie's alleged serial groping past just a few days before the election for governor of California? Well, it certainly didn't stop Arnie getting the job. But it seems to have led to an unpleasant backlash for the paper, with more than 1,000 cancelled subscriptions and a dumpster full of critical attention. As Duncan Campbell says in today's Guardian, it's not the sort of thing that would trouble British newspaper consumers. But things are different in the States...

Blair Seven Years On

There's now conclusive proof that being Prime Minister makes you look younger.

Tony Blair when he became PM seven years ago.

Blair photographed last week.