A Conspiracy Against the Government

An MP is secretly recorded by the security services when he speaks to a prisoner. The prisoner is the target, not the MP, but the press and the Opposition start a huge fuss about the Labour Party creating a police state.

Some idiot civil servants lose some important data discs, as they do, and the press and the Opposition rant about Labour Party incompetence, as if a Minister is standing behind every civil servant, watching their every move.

There is a nasty element in the UK twisting and distorting all sorts of events to show the Government in a bad light.

The Opposition need to start putting forward sensible arguments and the press need to report real news, not a lot of nonsense.

It is a real shame that years of democratic government have created an anti-democratic press and anti-democratic politicians.

(All this was supposed to be in the same font, but the last sentence and this one have spontaneously changed. I will get the hang of this sort of thing eventually.)

Medical Breakthrough

Four mornings in a row, I was woken by my nose bleeding. Each time, I held my nose as I dressed and made ready to go to Accident and Emergency. Each time, it stopped before I needed to go.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, I decided to see if I could use Murphy’s Law to solve the problem. I went to my local sports shop and bought a swimmer’s nose clip. If Murphy’s Law failed to operate, I would be able to get dressed using both hands.

The following morning, there was no bleeding, and there has been none for several days since. Coincidence? I feel there is a rational reason for Murphy’s Law operating in this case, but I cannot quite grasp what it is.

A Bit of Philosophy

I’m anaemic at the moment, so in no mood to put up with nonsense.

A couple of old ladies knocked on my door to tell me about the Bible, so I told them it was rubbish and I had no wish to discuss Bronze Age philosophy.

I could have added that their imaginary friend, God, did not exist, that in an indifferent Universe all we have is each other, and most of us are scum.

But that might have put a bit of a damper on their day.

Another A and E Display

I cannot seem to go to Accident and Emergency without putting on a show.

Last time, I vomited blood over the reception desk, this time I fainted on the way out.

I had gone in with a nosebleed, had it cauterised, then got up to go home rather sooner than I should have done.

Coloured spots crowded in from the edge of my vision, I heard someone say “Are you all right, mate?” and I lost the ability to operate my legs properly.

Several people were round me, and I found that I was on a trolley, angled so that the blood flowed to my head.

They took my blood pressure, which was 70 something over 40 something, which is pretty low.

They wheeled me up to the ear, nose and throat ward and kept me in for 24 hours bed rest. The full length surgical stockings they made me wear were very fetching, with an interesting marbled effect caused by my hairy legs.

My bed was near the nurses’ desk, so every change of shift I overheard the nurses telling the newcomers about Robert Muir, who had been cauterised and fainted on the way out. I don’t blame them for laughing.

Everyone involved and the hospital food were great. There was a free hour’s bedside television between 8 and 9 AM.

The biggest revelation was that they now use thermometers that they draw across the forehead and down the cheek to take a reading. How does that work? It makes me feel like I’m living in the 21^st Century.

Celtic Smiths

My surname, Muir, is Celtic, but three of my four grandparents were born with Anglo-Saxon surnames: Smith, Pearson and Marshall. I therefore assumed I was one quarter Celtic, three-quarters Anglo-Saxon.

Recently, I discovered that after the Battle of Culloden, many Scots changed their surnames to Smith to escape persecution. This is one of the reasons why Smith is the most common surname in Scotland.

So I could be half Celtic, or more if some changed their names to Pearson or Marshall for the sake of variety.

Those who kept the surname, Muir, must have been living so obscurely that nobody bothered them, fought for the winning side, or were too stubborn to change.

When DNA testing kits are sold for about £10 at Lidl, I will have to test myself to see just how Celtic I am.

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Ancestry Update

Many years ago, I fell into conversation with some Austrians in Jugoslavia, before it became Croatia. I explained that I was wearing a shirt and trousers while everyone else was in T shirts and shorts because I tanned unevenly, developing dark patches on my arms and shoulders. One of the Austrians nodded and said, "Vikinger problem".

I have discovered that he was probably right. I assumed that "Pearson" was an Anglo-Saxon name, but it turns out that the "Son" suffix is Viking. So as well as being descended from Celts, Anglo-Saxons and the unrecorded people who had rhesus negative blood, I am part Viking. Oh, well, the more the merrier. Hybrid vigour and all that sort of thing.

But most people in the British Isles can say the same, and if you go back far enough, we are all originally Africans. Some researchers believe that all us Europeans have a bit of Neanderthal in us as well. So we should regard the memory of the Neanderthals with a bit more respect, rather than thinking of them as a bunch of idiots.

Britain’s Most Agile Man

The finalists in the Britain’s Strongest Man competition ranged in height from five foot nine to six foot six, which compares to my five foot ten. I fall within their height range, an inch taller than the “Pocket Rocket”.

However, I weigh ten and a half stone, so I’m about half the weight of the strongmen. This set me wondering if any athletes shared my height and weight.

Today, I stumbled across someone who matches me exactly. She’s one of the world’s top volleyball players.

Last time I saw one of my aunts, she told me I needed to gain half a stone. Now I can riposte that I’m built like an athlete, though I probably won’t specify which one

Face Recognition

My mild narcissism prompted me to use a face recognition program to compare my face to those of a database of famous people. I look most like Raymond Chandler.

I also look like a couple of actors, Jesse McCartney and Adam Goldberg, Palestinian politician Mahmoud Abbas, Stephen Jay Gould, James Randi, Wim Wenders, Meryl Streep, Japanese cartoonist Hayao Miyazaki and Pablo Neruda.

They look like a random collection of names, although I do believe Raymond Chandler could pass for one of my relatives.

I am delighted to count Meryl Streep among my look-alikes. I never thought she was particularly attractive, but I googled some images of her and changed my mind. One, by Brigitte Lacombe, showed her smiling at the camera. Deeply beautiful. Best looking actress in the world.