50p

One of my colleagues bought a drink from the drinks machine earlier today. Unremarkable. Another guy's chance remark got me thinking about money. Literally.

(Odd units follow – 100 pence per Great British Pound throughout.)

He'd put a 50 pence coin into the coin slot. A 2011 coin with boxing gloves on the reverse. Not related to some outlandish English masturbatory competition, no; 'twas a reference to the 2012 London Olympics. London England.

Another colleague wondered if the thing might be worth 'something' – something more than face value.

It was. Probably still is.

I took a moment to look at eBay for current starting prices and bids.

Used examples of similar coins start at 99 pence – nearly twice face value – and head northwards, topping out at around 8 times face value. Add 100 to 250 pence postage and packing and we're at 4 to 13 times face value. OK there'll be eBay fees and the actual cost of postage to deduct, but sellers are still ahead.

Hmmm…

Digging a bit deeper, there's some with bids over 400 pence; and for mint, collectors items, there are some over 2000 pence, with equally outlandish postage charges.

Wow.

My youngest daughter has a money tin/can. It's cylindrical, has a slot in the top and a pretty design running around it and, and… a rather unfortunate design flaw. I can't check what's inside without a tin/can opener.

Destructive.

The thing I took away from this is simple: the guy had ANOTHER 50p in his pocket. It's a different world in our lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-famous bendy wire department!

Registration

Yesterday, and prior to midnight, was the deadline to register to vote in the upcoming UK Referendum. Unprecedented numbers of people (according to the government) attempted to register to vote on the day – over half a million.

And then, at 10:15pm, it all went titsup as the servers broke under the demand of, I think, 25 (or was it 50) thousand simultaneous users.

And that's how the day ended, tens of thousands of disappointed would-be voters.

The government has advised that anyone not registered should keep trying today; votes are important, see?

Er…

No.

No.

No.

If you're one of those unlucky enough to fail to complete registration less than 2 hours before the deadline, it's tough luck. Its been all over the news, social media – and almost inescapable too!

Unlucky?

No.

Inept?

Heck yes!

Servers break all the time; Black Friday, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, when Justin Bieber walks out with a dummy/pacifier partially obscuring his vacuous visage…

It's the way the modern world works; things we literally* need to keep us alive and sane break all the time.

Don't let the fact you didn't plan well-enough in advance, and that the Prime Minister thinks it's OK to extend the deadline thus arbitrarily imposing a bigger workload on the election apparatus get in the way of personal responsibility.

Git.

(breathes)

Ahhh… a rant's better out than in.

Or, in my case, I'm voting to remain; people need protecting from themselves.


*Figuratively.

Ramadan Mubarak

Ramadan Mubarak to anyone observing it or supporting those who are! If you're fasting, take it easy, be sensible!

A guy I know reckons he'll have a six-pack by Eid-Al-Fitr. I think not, not if what I understand about the limited time available to eat is correct.

I rashly accepted his 'challenge' though. Yeah, I know it sounds frivolous, trivialising the month. No.

Yes. I'm a clockwork idiot; my waistline is heading in ENTIRELY the wrong direction.

Boxes

A roundup of things I've done, observed, experienced, liked, loathed and tolerated during the last week. Some may be reproducible. Feel free to tick/check the vacant boxes I've helpfully left next to those events that fit into YOUR life, dear reader.

[ ] Cherry-picked the reports, surveys, etc., that conform to my view of what's likely to happen before, during and after the UK European Referendum is decided.

[ ] Figured out its pointless arguing the toss with those who would leave Europe on the promise of jam the day after the day after the vote is counted and publicised. (For the day after the referendum it's obvious; we ALL get jam, cream and scones. And tea. 3 sugars please!)

[ ] Observed the Transatlantic derp grow stronger as Trump's statements grow yet wilder. We've STILL not yet reached Peak Trump, have we.

[ ] Decided that talking Heads are indeed my favourite band after all.

[ ] Failed to persuade the girls to climb the big hill to the northwest of Rochdale.

[ ] Started transforming the back garden into a bona-fide garden. Quite how we'll manage the drainage on clay soil is anyone's guess!

[ ] Picked an NFL team to follow. The San Diego Chargers. Sorry Chiefs fans!

[ ] Made lists.

[ ] Ticked/checked boxes.

[ ] Unticked/unchecked boxes.

[ ] Argued the toss with Brexiters.

[ ] Thought about reminding people about the last day to register to vote in the Europe Referendum. June 7. Tomorrow. I think.

[ ] Been unable to find our National Trust Joint membership cards, and figured out we should have Family membership now. Tsk!

[ ] Mmmm… National Trust Apple Crumble Cookies…

Hotdogs

Dinner today will be easy: hotdogs, buns to encase them, tomato ketchup. That's me and the girls accounted for.

I read the cooking instructions on the label. Bad move. Not the act of reading, no, it's what I read of the ingredients.

Mechanically-separated chicken.

I'm hoping against hope it means something like free-range does for eggs, but that the chickens wear inflatable 'skirts' to protect them against farmyard collisions.

Trump

Not a post about 'politics', no. It's bodily functions; one in particular. And physics. Acoustics.

Earlier today I discovered one of the resonant frequencies of the gents toilets in work. I say 'discovered' as though I know what it is and can replicate the test conditions.

No.

It won't stop me from trying, though it may be some time before all the variables align as they did earlier…

Stood in cubicle 1 having a pee, and I trumped. Not a crafty squeak, not a planned silent but deadly, no. Though the room didn't shake, the sound emitted from my bottom took on a 3-dimensional 'presence' unlike anything I've ever heard before…

And no-one else was there to share the moment.

Perhaps it's for the best.

Next up, Mussorgsky's 'Night On The Bare Mountain'!

Brexitcize

I was going to post a thing I had in my head, a lyrical outline for an exercise routine of our times. At least the times upto June 23 2016 – the date of the UK's Remain-or-Exit European Referendum.

Delicious rhyming and umami-suffused references to massaging statistics, squeezing national identity into too-tight sweatpants, lifting the weights of lies, feeling the burn of misinformation and, of course, rowing machine comedy, bench-pressed pathos and repetitious ill-fitting hats?

Yeah.

No.

A kind of politically-motivated and spin-laden dancercize, aerobicize, pilatescize, er… thing? Set to music?

Maybe.

Yes, of COURSE it was crap; it translated extraordinarily badly to the page – a lyricist I am not! So I'm not going to post it, ever, using just the title. Instead I'll, hopefully without penalty, post a part of 'Psycho Killer', a song by Talking Heads, my all-time favourite band.

But first I must say I'd thought of using 'Road To Nowhere', 'Burning Down The House', the really rather good '(Nothing But) Flowers' – this last has all in its lyrics. 'Making Flippy Floppy' was so close to appearing here.

I bought nearly all their studio stuff, Talking Heads that is, at least once, on cassette tape, CD, digital downloads (iTunes); and the Stop Making Sense DVD – a tour-de-force of concert filmmaking.

Favourite song? None.

'Once In A Lifetime' comes close, especially now, especially given the likelihood we'll get another chance at shaping our country's future.

Heck, the songs (let alone the name of the band as a metaphor for all the celebrities popping up to take sides, voice opinions) could easily form the basis of a post-apocalypse documentary film soundtrack. It's worth remembering though that, within reason, any lyric can be shaped to fit any theme, should you wish it.

And so, finally, to 'Psycho Killer':

"I can't seem to face up to the facts,
I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax,
I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire,
Don't touch me I'm a real live wire.

You start a conversation, you can't even finish it.
You're talkin' a lot, but you're not sayin' anything.
When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed.
Say something once, why say it again?"

(time passes…)

Awesome.

If this resonates because you live in the USA and cannot quite believe it's still months until Super Tuesday rolls around, you may find it applies to your (coughs) Trump (coughs) epoch-making situation too!

At least here in Europe we do things on the cheap. Hundreds of millions of pounds/dollars raised from well-meaning folks and spent on ads rubbishing the opposition? Barefaced lies? Deeply entrenched views based on arguments utterly devoid of logic? No.

Er… Maybe.

Nevertheless, our politicians also share with us the promise of jam tomorrow. Oh yes.

I'm betting it'll be rhubarb.

Would you care to bet against me?

Next up, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' by Joy Division.

Chargers

I'm closer to making an American Football team decision. Yes, I'm ignoring advice, previous deliberations, random chance, all of it.

But that's today; who knows what 'tomorrow' will drop into my lap‽

So.

Who?

And why?

The San Diego Chargers!

We-eeelll…

I first visited the USA in 1992. We landed first at JFK, swapped 'planes then flew in to San Diego – our coach tour's starting point. I actually saw Jack Murphy Stadium; amongst many other attractions the city had to offer.

Now as far as my desire to pick a crap team, one with a promising future but a recently abysmal past… I might settle for mediocrity in the short term.

The Chargers are as near as dammit a lifetime 8-8 team. Not a bad feat for a team founded in 1960; and the embodiment of the League's desire for parity across the League.

Yeah.

No.

Maybe.

And rivalries, always back to rivalries. One in particular against a certain city's team, a team of which I know a small number of fans.

Chiefs fans, they are.

It'll be great!

Or car-crash.

Europe

I've read a lot of pro- and anti-Europe opinion pieces. I've read all the literature that's come through our letterbox. There's an inescapable conclusion to be made after a period of reflection. And here it is.

It's all guesswork.

No-one knows what will happen if we Brits leave the European Union. That's no-one knows.

I don't mind the scaremongering: highlighting the inevitable lack of border controls, loss of political and policy control, a likely increase in our contributions as less-well-off countries join Europe, the deals allowing foreign companies to sue to establish privately-run footholds in currently state-owned services… Scaremongering is, after all, what we pay our politicians for. What I do mind is the sunny picture being painted, of the benefits greatly outweighing the negatives were we to leave. Guesswork, all of it, based on our past.

It's utterly pointless looking backwards to a time when Britain was actually great, to a time when we ran the known world – at least the world that other European nations didn't control.

It's pointless looking back at a time Great Britain made stuff that was exported all over the world; essential items that no-one else in the world could make, or at least make well. Our very real contribution to the Industrial Revolution is indeed something of which we can be justly proud.

We gave it all away. Processes, designs, specific inventions that grease the wheels of world industry; we relinquished a very real control at a time we had sway over vast numbers of far-flung nations, an authority over those 'backward' folks. Sure it was the authority of the gun, club and bayonet, but hey, we punched way above our weight, and we can do it again right! But, as the rights of the 'indigenous' people correctly became more important than our colonialism, we lost that control. It must have been utterly humiliating for the politicians of the day.

The Twentieth Century was perhaps the era of biggest change, at least as far as benefiting the average Briton. Healthcare improved beyond recognition thus life expectancy rose, personal wealth rose, the welfare state protected those unable to look after themselves, the rights of the common man were improved immeasurably – a template for the rest of the world to build upon. We rebuilt after the deprivation of the Second World War, suffered greatly through rationing until we emerged, victorious again!

Ok, our contributions to world peace and stability were obviously misguided, a side-effect of both being on the winning side in those 2 World Wars and those prominent rose-tinted spectacles. We probably meant well.

We don't have to look backwards too far to figure out when things started to go wrong with the British economy. British politicians decided it was pointless trying to improve the lives of other British people by ensuring a stable working environment and making things the rest of the world wanted. So we simply gave up.

Making things better than the rest of the world is hard. Why bother? Far better to invite bankers to do business here, to concentrate on making things attractive for service industries, filmmakers, motor racing car designers, makers of killing machines…

Killing machines; we've a proud history of making those at least. And jet engines, hovercraft, vacuum cleaners. Er… ok, bad examples, those 3. How about textile machines, motors, ships, trains, cars, aeroplanes, computers, televisions, tyres, er… Oops!

I've seen videos 'explaining' how things will be better once we can negotiate our own trade agreements, free from the shackles of European regulation. Good luck with that, if we're trading with firms in European countries that are bound (emotive word?) by European regulations. Or ISO standards.

Good luck trying to negotiate a trade deal with next US political administration; either the mercurial (I'm being kind) or the known. The USA, rightly in my view, isn't known for its generosity towards other nations when so much is wrong at home. Major industries shuttered or mothballed as cheaper foreign competition bites. It's going to be the same here, us versus our European neighbours. And vs China. And vs the rest of the world. All of it. Back-of-the-queue-Britain.

Really, what have we to offer that can't be done cheaper elsewhere? Take a long hard look at numbers, probabilities. Ignore those who promise it will simply be 'better', that we can return to the nation of Saint George, Boudicca, King Arthur, that guy who was the nominal boss before the Normans took over, Chamberlain, Churchill, and all the others who made a difference when it comes to an understanding of what it is to be British.

English actually. That's what all this is about. Nationalism.

It's easy to invoke a pride in one's nationality, to remind the great unwashed masses that we've always been a nation capable of triumphing against insurmountable odds. Easy.

Insurmountable odds like The Charge of The Light Brigade, Dunkirk, The Battle of The Somme… Yeah, you know where this is going. The point is this; those were much, much simpler times. There was a defined objective, not many variables, the path the opposition would take could be predicted, to a degree. You'll have heard of, or know a little about both Chaos Theory and Game Theory already so I won't bother explaining here.

Ah, but the competition were still learning their trades.

Everyone's guessing what will happen if we exit Europe. Guessing; there's no other way of dressing this up. Those pro-exit are either amped up on nationalistic fervour and hope their persuasiveness will carry us through, or sufficiently well-off to be insulated from it.

Me, yeah, I know where I stand. I haven't a clue!

What I have is a cautious approach. I've 2 young daughters so I've a father's concern that my actions now will have a direct result on their futures. Its entirely silly to think like that; their future is out of my hands. Its everyone else with definite opinions, those with an unshakable belief that their exit vote will make us great again, that will guide us in a month's time.

If it goes wrong, it's probable that most already past retirement age won't see the worst of the fallout. Heck, if things play out like I'm imagining it won't be a pleasant world as the various trade blocs realign in a external market tariff-laden but 'buy local' fashion. It natural. Besides, no matter how much we don't want it to happen, the Far East is indeed emerging as the world's economic powerhouse. Er… It's emerged.

Incidentally, I read something yesterday, a rebuttal of one part of the exit camp's trade arguments. Our re-taking of our World Trade Organisation seat once we're out of Europe. We've been WTO members since 1995, have that and another swat due to our European position. If only people fact-checked before jumping to conclusions. It takes seconds, minutes at most to; yet why research, why study when faith works just as well and is quicker to boot!

Speaking of studying stuff, students (young people) – in theory the most likely to vote to remain – are up against it. Polling day is outside term time, see. The advice is to register to vote in 2 locations (family home and halls/digs) if undecided where you'll be on the day. A recent poll indicated most students don't seem to know when Polling day is though! Surely not someone's cunning plan. Surely not. No.

One final thing, ok, set of things. I keep seeing people's worst-case scenarios. You know, those where we take a few years to establish even better trade links with the world, where the British economy carries on at the same level as now then improves and we become great again, free from the shackles of oppressive regulation and crippling financial contributions. Some expert sits in front of a Parliamentary committee and says it's it's going to be great, guarantees it.

Why people still trust people who stand behind a teleprompter and pretend they can see into the future; still trust people who've spent a lifetime convincing others that their philosophy is best, better than that other party's or their own party's factions; still trust those who've presided over or been a party to scandal after scandal, and who either express mock outrage or seem immune from retribution – it saddens me.

I'm not advocating a revolution, a British Spring. Far from it. I'm simply wondering why objectivity doesn't matter any more.

I'm scared.

What are we actually good at, better than anyone else by a sufficient margin to guarantee sustainability?

I really don't KNOW.

That's why I'm scared.

“nfl team chooser”

This week, at work, I started the process of choosing an NFL team to follow. I've been here before. Not too many times in recent years, thankfully, but I have more motivation this time around.

It's 12 years since I was last serious about the sport of American Football. Lives intervened.

Besides, such is the active lifespan of a profession sportsman – especially an American Football player – I'm guessing that everyone I knew of at that time will have retired.

Messy thought processes follow immediately:

Rather than begin the search this time by grappling with rivalries between the teams of people I know, I decided to apply a bit of lateral thinking; I asked Google for advice!

"nfl team chooser" is the search criterion I employed. A sensible starting point. I'd hoped to be guided by question and answer sessions and I was not disappointed.

Now, the first 3 pages of results provided me with 15 usable sites, or at least choices.

The company's IT infrastructure firewalled the tenth hit as 'tasteless', and the 2 random selection processes picked the Giants (discounted immediately, because reasons.)

I answered a good number of questions on the sites; some general 'what's your favourite colour' through questions assuming trivial general Football knowledge, to team balance and squad selection. Some I'll freely admit I had to guess at – especially those needing current squad knowledge; I get only 1/2 hour for lunch, and the season's approaching fast!

I got a list. A list of 12 teams.

Rather than list 'em here I'll simply mention I applied a simple statistical analysis: tallying by Conference and Division. Simple. None in NFC South; one each in AFC East and North, NFC North; two each in AFC South, West, NFC East; three in the NFC West.

Interesting, that last one. I'd been mulling over choosing the all-new LA Rams – the only team in that division not picked by my scientific* approach. I was a fan of the 49ers not long after I started watching the sport. I looked forward to seeing their Super Bowl 'Threepeat'. When they failed me I needed another team.

An underdog!

The Cowboys' preceding 1-15 season made my choice easy. I watched the Jerrys' team go all the way. Satisfying, that.

I did other things too, about which I've previously blogged.

Ok, this is where things get complicated!

Here.

We had visitors at work all this week. From Topeka. Kansas. USA.

Yeah. They were united in their recommendation:

The. Kansas. City. Chiefs!

I'll be honest, I'd never really considered supporting AFC teams. The pre-champion Bills and Broncos both came closest.

Underdogs both, see.

So, a toss-up between 2 teams: The Los Angeles (recently ex-St Louis Missouri) Rams, or the Kansas City (Missouri again!) Chiefs?

The Rams are currently rubbish though their move might, in time, fix that. The Chiefs are currently quite good, thus might automatically disqualify themselves.

I need a set of playoff rules. Would a whole season be appropriate? A period of observation, hoping I can choose at the end.

September to January. 32 games, though my choice will likely be made much earlier – a performance-related bonus. Playoffs would be pleasing but hey, I'll be happy enough if I last the course.

One big thing; the Topeka guys mentioned sending me a Chiefs Jersey. A great gesture, one I definitely appreciate even if it doesn't happen. Why? They started a train of thought, and that's better than any outsize sporting garment!

As, potentially, the newest fan they know I'm already aware that chaos theory will inevitably make an unwelcome appearance. Whilst I wouldn't necessarily object being the group scapegoat (I am, after all, thousands of miles away) a 'No pressure' existence suits me better.

At least for season 1. I'll need time to acclimatise.

But indecision is easy. A tiebreaker might be needed.

So now, finally, to bitter rivalries. Which team's fans harbour the strongest, burningest, most long-standingest hatred for the Chiefs‽

A rhetorical question? Nope.