Tuesday, May 31, 2005The Tuesday Twat(s)No. 19. "Celebrity" Reality TV.Once upon a time, some TV bod came up with the idea of the "Celebrity Special", for favourite TV shows. At first, it was a relatively harmless idea, confined to Christmas, Children in Need night and Comic Relief night. Indeed, the shows were often eagerly anticipated. The Celebs in question would forgo their usual astronomical appearance fee and donate all of their winnings to a charity of their choice. The shows themselves ranged from dire (It's a Royal Knockout being the most notable example), to rather good (the big name quiz shows, such as Millionaire or Mastermind). In the case of the quiz shows, it could either be very funny (some celebs make real prats of themselves, being unable to answer even the most trivial of general knowledge questions under the steely gaze of Ann Robinson) or quite eye-opening (more than one soap bimbo has stunned audiences be answering quite esoteric questions with remarkable ease). Then, disaster struck. Some TV executive noticed that shows with "Celebrity" in the title seemed to attract more viewers. Hmmm.... Even worse, "Reality TV" shows were also becoming popular. Suddenly a brainwave occured... "Why don't we combine the two?". The first outing was for Comic Relief - Celebrity Big Brother, a group of Z-listers and a couple of popular comedians locked in the house for a week. One contestant went mad, a former entertainer told all the details of his marriage breakup to another celeb and the public fell in love with a previously moderately popular comedian. Ratings skyrocketed and careers were reinvigorated. Oh and they raised some money for charity as well. It was now unstoppable. Eyebrows were raised when "I'm a celebrity get me out of here!" didn't actually feature any celebrities, merely people who once featured in the tabloids or who had a minor role in a soap opera. Nevertheless you got to see them being covered in rats and forced to eat live insects so ratings remained high. The search was on for newer and more extreme types of these shows. Rebecca Loos - famous only because she claims to have had an affair with the England football Captain David Beckham - seems game for anything. Her first outing provoked outrage when she wanked a pig off on live TV. Subsequent reality TV appearances have usually involved desert islands, bikini's and some sort of sexual ritual involving weighted stones (?). She is currently starring in "Celebrity Love Island" - where a group of single "Celebs" (Fran Cosgrove is described as a "Nightclub owner" - WTF? Being a nightclub owner constitutes celebrity these days?) are stranded and encouraged to shag each other - yes televised pimping is here! But nothing prepared me quite for the shock I got the other night - channel hopping during an ad break for the highbrow documentary "World's wildest police chases", I came across the "comedian" Richie Blackmore sifting through his own shit. This is not an exageration for comic effect - you can now watch celebrity detox! "Celebs" starve themselves, guzzle litres of salty water then either throw it up on camera or let it run out the other end. They are then encouraged to retain their excrement and examine it, like some sort of latter-day gold prospector. As to Mr Blackmore, he examined the shit for hours on end and still couldn't find that elusive funny and original joke. Twats. Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s) |
Tuesday, May 24, 2005The Tuesday Twat(s)No 18. Ringtone users.OK, No apologies whatsoever if you are one of those twats who download ringtones for your mobile phone. It's not big, it's not clever and it says nothing about your individuality. These have to be one of the most irritating and obnoxious "inventions" in recent years. I don't have a problem with the concept of different ringtones for different phones. We are petitioning in work for them to let us change the ringtones on our office phones - at the moment it is impossible to figure out whose phone is ringing when you are eating your lunch, meaning that you invariably get up for "your" phone, only to find it's someone else's. Very irritating when you almost have 10 down in the crossword and you lose your train of thought. However, I am of the rather old-fashioned opinion that a ringtone should "ring". It should not play the national anthem, the first four bars of "The A-Team", "Angel" or quack loudly. In fact, such is the cacophony of weird and (not so) wonderful noises at work, that I have set my own mobile to sound like - a phone. Seriously. If you hear a good old fashioned "Ring Ring" - it's for me. I fooled myself some years ago into believing that once the technology moved on from "beeps" to polyphonic and MP3 ringtones, it would be less annoying. Is it bollocks. It's even more irritating. There you are, sitting at the computer trying to understand the garbled English that constitutes the abstract of a paper in the Journal of Biology, and fucking Blur Song 2 suddenly belts out beside you at an implausibly high volume. And why do people always look so embarrassed at their choice of ring tone? Sure, your mobile phone going off in lab meeting is always slightly embarrassing - but a discrete "ring ring" rarely elicits more than a sympathetic smile from your colleagues - whereas the theme music to "KnightRider" results in loud guffaws and quietly muttered "fuckwit"s. What the fuck where you thinking? That it would get less embarrassing over time? And whilst we are on the subject- women should not be allowed to own mobile phones. This is not some Taliban-esque call for religious propriety - just to prove my credentials I believe strongly in immodest clothing - but a simple request for a quieter life. You see the problem with women is they don't believe in pockets. Whereas blokes cheerfully stuff their jeans with wallets, keys, loose-change, mobile phones, matches, paperclips, swipecard and whatever toy fell out of the breakfast cereal that morning - women might slip their locker key in. Possibly. This means that their mobile phone is left sitting on their desk (why more aren't stolen I don't know) or, even worse, inside their locker. And of course they MUST be left switched on. I have tried to persuade my female colleagues that if they were to put them in their trouser pockets the added width to their hips would make them more sexually attractive in a Darwinian sense. But I was told to "fuck off". So it was with mixed feelings that I read that software has been developed to allow you to sample any song and convert it from CD to ringtone for free. On the one hand the suffering will increase - on the other hand a multi-million pound business will collapse overnight. Good. Edit: Un-fucking-believable! The "Crazy Frog Ringtone" is set to be this week's official Number 1, now that downloads are counted in the Top 40 countdown. Seriously! Apparently it is outselling Coldplay's latest release (BBC Online). Ooohh I bet Chris Martin is pissed... Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s) |
Tuesday, May 17, 2005The Tuesday Twat(s)No. 17. The crap before films.OK, imagine the scenario. You're sitting in the cinema. The lights have gone down. You are already thinking that perhaps drinking a litre of Pepsi Max in one go and not going to the toilet first may have been unwise. You've bitten the heads of half a kilo of jelly babies and are feeling slightly sick. First off - 15 minutes of adverts for perfume, cars and - inexplicably - the Royal Marines. Next it's "Trailers that we have specially selected for your enjoyment". Mostly for films that you have never heard of and, strangely, never actually see advertised at the cinema in the coming months. Next it's an mildly amusing advert for Orange mobile phones, culminating in the gentle reminder to switch your phone off. Finally, up comes that black certificate with the intelligible signature, certifying that the PG certificate film contains no swearing, moderate violence and no buggery. The screen darkens. Good you think, the film is about to start. The camera zooms down a CGI-rendered lava tube - an unusual start to a romantic comedy you think. BANG! A deafening fanfare of trumpets starts and you realise it is just a trailer informing you that the film is presented in digital, surround, 10.1, dolby, nicam, computerised sound. Whoopie do! The camera pans to a blue summer sky with a beautiful mountain top - then stars appear and the logo Paramount pictures, followed by a short clip of a boy fishing on the moon, a desert road with a thunderstorm, a running unicorn... need I continue? What is it with all that shit before films? Perhaps its my own fault. I like to be on time for things, and if there is one thing I hate it is getting comfortable, then having to get up again as some arsehole decides that they want to sit in the middle of the row and therefore need you to let them past. Thus, I try to get in BEFORE the lights go down, so I don't piss of somebody by doing the same thing myself. The adverts piss me off most - why is it that adverts that are shown a million time on TV, becoming part of the background, suddenly seem so annoying when projected onto a 30 metre screen? And who is that twat at the back of the cinema who laughs raucously at adverts that ceased to be funny 2 years ago when shown on telly, as if seeing them for the first time? The trailers don't bother me too much - in fact, I rather like them. I enjoy seeing teasers for films that I am looking forward to, and perhaps make a note to see ones that I hadn't previously considered. My parents, who like to be contrary, make a note of films that they definitely WON'T be seeing. For my Dad, that includes any film that has a large explosion in the trailer. It's not that he has anything against action movies - he simply believes that any film that requires a large explosion in the trailer to drum up interest is guaranteed to be shit. And he won't be told otherwise. The Orange phone adverts aren't too bad. Anything that involves taking the piss out of former Hollywood celebs desperate for a paycheck is fine by me - but they do get tiresome after a few showings. And we really need to be a little more forceful with the reminder to turn off your mobile. I suggest "Don't be an inconsiderate fucker- turn off your mobile you baseball-cap-wearing cunt", would be a reasonable wording. But what really really gets my goat are the production adverts before the film. Hands up - who gives a flying fuck if the film is shot using Dolby or SDDS or Nicam or 2 tin cans and a piece of string? Have you ever looked longingly at a billboard and said to yourself - "I WOULD go and see that critically acclaimed blockbuster from my favourite director - but wouldn't you just know, the silly sausage has gone with SDDS rather than Dolby". Ironically the reels for these self-indulgent pieces of crap have been played so many times at my local multiplex-that the sound is all scratchy anyway. Finally why do film studios feel the need to advertise their involvement (usually by means of a cheque book) in a film, with a short promotional clip and logo? The choice of director may well tempt me to see a film - but do I really care if the $50m budget came out of the pocket of Paramount or Fox? Umm... No. British films are the worst, since they are usually part funded by a consortium of charities, government agencies and US studios- before being distributed by another US studio - the credits at the beginning can last longer than the movie itself. One recent effort had more than 6 of these clips (I lost count). Everytime you thought the film was about to start another sodding production company shoved its logo up. Who gives a shit? Seriously? It's like the trailers - who gives a toss who the key grip is? I understand that casting directors may use the credits to identify the good looking extra playing 3rd passenger on the No 42 bus - but surely they can find out with a phone call? Besides, how many casting directors or movie financiers are actually sitting in on the saturday afternoon showing of Toystory 3 in the Bognor Regis UCI anyway? Still, it does have its upside - on more than one occasion I have completely forgotten what it is I'm supposed to be seeing, and had a pleasant surprise when the film actually starts. Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s) |
Monday, May 16, 2005Don't shoot the messenger!Image shamelessly pinched from SlyCraft.com Oh whoopie do! I have another "progress" meeting with SWMNBN on Wednesday morning. Those of you who read this blog regularly will know that I look forward to these meetings with the same excitement and anticipation that prisoners at Abu Graib would experience upon seeing Private Lyndsey Walker striding across the courtyard carrying a black sack, a doglead and a set of car jumper cables... This month, it will be even more fun than usual. Having rather selfishly decided to go for a job interview, I have had less working days than the 20 calender days since the last meeting would suggest. I haven't heard back from the interview yet, so I don't know if I will mention this to SWMNBN. I didn't ask her for a reference for obvious reasons, and she may not be too impressed. On top of that everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. Basic procedures that are all but infallible have not worked and problems that I thought I had solved months ago have suddently reappeared. So far, so normal then. The real kicker this month though is not a problem of my making - but one that I am almost certain to cop some (or all) of the shit for. You see I have just proven that the postdoc whose work I rather unwillingly "inherited" a few months ago and have been struggling to progress - fucked up. I mean really fucked up. As in the last 2 years may have to be binned and the entire raison d'etre of the project completely gone. Oh dear. Basically, in a nutshell, the postdoc in question (who is now no longer even in the UK) was tasked with removing a number of genes from a strain of brewer's yeast. The perennial problem with anything that involves adding or removing DNA from an organism, is how do you know when you have done it correctly? Contrary to popular belief, you can remove a remarkable number of genes from most organisms without any obvious immediate effect. The effects may take time to develop, or may only manifest themselves under obscure and unusual conditions that are difficult or time-consuming to test for, particularly when the success rate for most gene additions/removals is 1 in 100 or 1 in 1000 or less. Therefore, a common method is to use an antibiotic resistance marker - basically, you swap the gene you want to remove for another gene (known as a "marker") that makes the organism resistant to a normally poisonous antibiotic. Only cells that have successfully swapped the target gene for the antibiotic resistance marker can grow in the presence of the antibiotic. Simple, straightforward and used the worldover thousands of times a day. However, what if you want to remove 2 genes? The cell has already been made resistant to the antibiotic, so how can you tell that a second gene has been replaced with the antibiotic resistance marker? You have 2 options - first, you can use a second antibiotic resistance marker - in bacteria ampicillin is commonly used, but tetracycline or neomycin might also be used so that you can examine 3 genes simultaneously. The second option is to "recycle" the marker - that is remove it from the organism (this won't magically restore the gene that you originally removed), making the organism susceptible to the antibiotic again, then use it again on a second gene. This is the method we prefer. Well, for the past 2 months I have been trying to remove the marker that the first postdoc inserted to use it again on a second gene. Despite following the instructions left by the previous postdoc, looking up the relevant protocols on the internet and talking at length with someone who has used the system extensively - I can't remove the marker gene. The cells still grow like weeds on the antibiotic. Everyone agrees that I am doing the right thing. So today I did an experiment to check that the previous postdoc had actually inserted the marker gene correctly. Its' successful removal is critically dependent on it having been designed and correctly inserted in the first place and it took over a year to do it. According to the results of my experiment, the original insertion was fatally flawed. Instead of being removed, the marker gene is just switching its orientation - which unfortunately has no effect whatsoever on its effectiveness. Short of going back to the very beginning (it took the original postdoc 12 months - I have 2 months left on my contract), I have precious few options. The result of this is that SWMNBN is going to do her fucking nut. And with no one else to vent at, who do you think is most likely to get it in the neck? |
Friday, May 13, 2005Italy says no to limp spaghettiBBC News Despite evidence of falling birth rates and the fact that the country is nominally Catholic - it seems that frisky Italian women are "entitled" to a bit of "How's your Father?" on their wedding night. An Italian court has awarded damages to a woman whose new husband turned out to have problems standing to attention. Is that not the final humiliation? Not only has John Thomas (or Gionna Tomas) embarrased you, when you least want to be embarrassed - he's also cost you a chunk of change. Moral of the story "Try before you buy!". Mind you, the first thing that sprung to mind when reading the story was "vindictive bitch!". |
Thursday, May 12, 2005But I *WANT* to work like a dog!Lascivious has an excellent post discussing why the EU you should keep its grubby little paws off our working time directive opt-out clause, and I feel I have to chime in also.Basically, the European Working Time Directive stipulates a raft of measures designed to protect workers. And damn right to. However, one of the most contentious clauses involves the restriction of workers to a 48 hour working week. Britain successfully negotiated an opt-out clause, allowing workers to sign up to work over 48 hours if they so wish, on a strictly voluntary basis. This week, the EU has voted to remove this clause. Almost all of our politicians are against losing the clause. Predictably the trade unions are in favour of removing the opt-out, as are every other "old" EU country. They cite abuse of the system by unscrupulous employers and health and safety concerns. It has nothing to do with the UK economy pissing on their economies. Nope, not at all. This really is a thorny issue. On the one hand it is undoubtedly true that many employers do take the piss. A willingness to sign the "voluntary" opt-out clause is really only voluntary if you don't want the job. Further, there are valid H&S issues - after all who on earth wants van drivers working 16 hour shifts, even if they spent most of that shift in an office? Taking that issue further, what about people driving home from work after a long shift? That being said however, there are plenty of people who do work 48 hours or more a week for good reasons. Low paid workers often rely on overtime to put food on the table - literally. Other jobs, by their nature may require long shifts, and people entering those professions largely do so with their eyes open. The H&S issue is also a red-herring. Professional drivers are already regulated regarding their hours and many people, myself included, don't drive to work. What does it matter if I nod off on the bus? On the flipside, I am also an insomniac. Believe me, I don't need to work long hours to be tired and sleepy and unfit to drive. And of course, how can one police this? Unless they start logging my swipecard use, how will anyone know what hours I work? My job has a culture of long hours, particularly in the early years. I am salaried and receive no overtime, so could simply turn up 9 to 5, Monday to Friday for the same pay. However, like most young scientists, I am trying to make my name in the field by generating publishable work. That requires long hours. Do I wish it were otherwise? Of course. Do I wish it were easier for colleagues with family commitments? Absolutely! Do I think it is sensible or even practical to arbitrarily limit my hours? Hell no! The consequences of this law are potentially wide-ranging. Ignoring the rather nebulous concept of Britain's economic prosperity, there will be an immediate consequence for Britain's poorest workers. Unless we suddenly agree upon a livable minimum wage (fat chance), and raise the lower band tax threshold to a sensible level, we will see extreme poverty if we aren't careful. Assuming a 48 week working year, with a 48 hour working week, then the minimum wage of £4.50 (ish) will result in a maximum gross annual salary of a little over £10,000. After tax, you are looking at about £8,500 take home. That was my take home as a PhD student in 2002 - and was roundly condemned in various reports (after I had graduated, naturally) as grossly inadequate. Even as a single, childless lab-rat with no commitments, living in a relatively cheap city, I struggled to make ends meet. Forget pensions or savings or a decent home - I lived in a single bedroom student flat in a shitty part of town and spent everything I earned on the basics. What is likely to happen, is that people will simply lie. This is already happening in the NHS. A relative of mine, who is a junior doctor, attended a meeting held by a senior consultant. "These are the hours you will be working. These are the hours you will be writing down. If anyone has a problem, come and see me in my office". The rota was about 60 hours - the recorded hours were 48 hours. It is believed that nobody has complained. Of course, the cynic in me suspects that the makers of laptop computers will be rubbing their hands in glee. How many firms are going to replace their desktop PCs with laptops - in the knowledge that staff under pressure to meet deadlines will simply take their computers home? I can receive email at home, and could potentially cut short the hours spent physically at university by doing my reading at home. They also plan to count "on call time". WTF? Whilst an SHO in a busy hospital may spend most of his or her "on call" time working, and should thus count it, there are plenty of jobs where being on call rarely results in one's sleep being disturbed. In fact, having tip-toed past a snoozing security guard on more than one occasion, there are a fair few jobs where even being in work is no impediment to a good night's sleep. Sigh. Another blunt force law designed to fit all circumstances. |
Tuesday, May 10, 2005The Tuesday Twat(s)No. 16. Star Wars FansNo, not all Star Wars fans obviously. Just the ones that give the rest of us a bad name. You know, the twats that start queuing for the new film, 2 months in advance - OUTSIDE THE WRONG FUCKNG CINEMA! Y'see I like Star Wars, really I do. A pale imitation of Star Trek it may be, but all-in-all it's a jolly romp. I bought the enhanced boxset over the summer (half-price obviously, I'm not stupid) and hosted a star wars evening complete with free beer left over from my birthday. I even watched Episode II the other day again to remind myself of a few key plot points. I will be going to see the new film with a gang of workmates on the 20th (the 19th will probably be sold out) and it may well be the highlight of the week. Sure, it's little more than a cartoon, the dialogue in the previous 2 films was infantile and embarassing, it has plotholes that you could drive an imperial star destroyer through and of course Lucas is a truly shite director (American Graffiti blows chunks as well). But on the plus side it's got laser swords that make a "Whooshing" sound, robots and spaceships. That'll do me. Back to the twats though - 1) Why are they queuing 2 months in advance? My local multiplex will probably be showing it every half hour for the next 3 weeks. I will turn up on the 20th and be a bit miffed if I have to wait for an hour. What is it with these people that queue for months ahead of trivial events? Am I the only person who laughed out loud when they announced the postponement of Charles and Camilla's wedding, and thought immediately of that dickhead who camped outside Windsor castle with a novelty tea towel "To get a good seat". Was it cruel to pray for rain? 2) Do none of them have a credit card? Can they not book their ticket online? Surely, at least one of their carers could buy the tickets on their behalf. Also, wouldn't it be really, really funny, if on the day of the first showing, these weirdos weren't allowed in because normal people had booked all the seats online? Even if they had a bath first? 3) Why are they queuing outside the wrong bloody cinema? Yes, I know that the first films opened at Grauman's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, but the new one won't be. It's opening a mile away down the road. Are they stupid, stubborn or both? 4) Why doesn't society care about people with these sorts of problems more? It doesn't even keep them off the streets! And just in case you thought that they only did this every few years, when a new SW film is released - guess again! Visit their webpage Liningup.net and see what other films they have wasted their lives queuing for. May the farce be with you. Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s) |
Monday, May 09, 2005Darth Jackson...Nuff said... |
Tuesday, May 03, 2005The Tuesday Twat(s)A touch early I know, but blogger is playing up so I'm not taking chances.No. 15. David Bellamy. His profile at Speakers.co.uk OK, this one is controversial I know. I mean, its one thing to joke about dead or even live Popes, and I could probably get away with a cheap gag at Muhammed's expense, but joking about David Bellamy - that hirsute mumbler with a passion for a things botanical - that could get me lynched. It's not that I don't have a fondness for him - who doesn't? Sure, only one word in ten gets past that massive furry food trap, but like John Prescott, the world would be a duller place without him. David is the cuddly face of ecology and biology and with his catch phrase "lubbley" has charmed generations of school kids, making them think about their natural environment in ways that they would never have done otherwise. The thing is that the old boy seems to be losing his marbles lately and making a bit of a twat of himself in the letters pages of New Scientist and the national press. You see, despite every conservationist on earth being deeply concerned about the dangers of global warming, old Belly says "Bring it on!". You see his theory is that an increase in CO2 will be a good thing, on the grounds that plants like the stuff! Various rebuttals have included the fact that very few plants are growth-limited by available CO2 and the fact that the acompanying temperature rise and rising sea levels will bugger far more plants than it could possibly benefit. He doesn't help his case any by citing a notorious fraudlent petition made by a Right-Wing Christian nutjob living in the wilds of the US, whose 18,000 signatures included those of the well-known environmentalist Ginger Spice and the cast of M*A*S*H. The Guardian columnist George Monbiot, catalogues his ongoing correspondence with Bellamy on the subject. More recently, Bellamy has been refuting claims about melting glaciers. He wrote to New Scientist (Letters April 16th 2005) claiming that contrary to a recent article, glaciars are in fact growing, probably due to global temperature increases leading to more water vapour inthe atmsphere (and hence more rain/snow). However, two weeks later (Letters April 30th 2005) a correspondent contradicted every single example of Bellamy's and cited the World Glacier Monitoring Service who have catalogued serious melting and shrinking of these glaciers - not growth as Bellamy (bizarrely) claims. Normally I wouldn't give a Tuesday Twat award to another scientist, since I believe that argument and debate is the lifeblood of research. However, Bellamy is in danger of causing serious problems in a field well outside his ken. As a well known environmentalist his words carry weight with the public - however it is rarely noted that Bellamy is a BOTANIST (and a damn fine one) NOT A CLIMATOLOGIST. He has formed his opinion and refuses to engage in meaningfull debate with those who know what they are talking about. Yet already, his words are being used by motor manufacturers as evidence that global warming doesn't exist and that there is no need for the manufacturer's to reduce fuel consumption. So Professor Bellamy, it is with great reluctance I award you a Tuesday Twat award. Display it proudly, you have earned it. Labels: The Tuesday Twat(s) |
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