I didn't find 'them' in Muslim world
By ROBERT L. JAMIESON Jr.
P-I COLUMNIST
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
Rwandan genocide
'Under an agreement between Britain and Rwanda, revealed in court for the first time on Friday, the men would not be given the death penalty if they were convicted. '
Four men in UK court over Rwandan genocide
Friday December 29, 06:30 PM
LONDON (Reuters) - Four men appeared in a London court on Friday on extradition warrants from Rwanda where they are wanted on charges of taking part in the 1994 genocide in which more than 800,000 minority Tutsis were slaughtered.
The men, all in their 40s and 50s, were arrested at their homes in coordinated raids in various parts of Britain late on Thursday, police said.
Vincent Bajinya, Charles Munyaneza, Celestin Ugirashebuja and Emmanuel Nteziryayo all face the same charges that between January 1, 1994 and December 12, 1994 they murdered, plotted to murder and aided the murder of Tutsis intending to eradicate them all.
At a hearing at Westminster Magistrates Court, Nteziryayo was remanded in custody until January 5. Bajinya, Munyaneza and Ugirashebuja were remanded until a further court appearance on January 26, a Crown Prosecution Service spokeswoman said.
Prosecutors alleged that Munyaneza, 48, Ugirashebuja, 53 and Nteziryayo, 44, had been local mayors with sweeping powers in their areas while Bajinya, 45, was accused of having been a militia co-ordinator in the capital Kigali.
All four men deny the accusations against them.
Under an agreement between Britain and Rwanda, revealed in court for the first time on Friday, the men would not be given the death penalty if they were convicted.
The massacre took place in the spring of 1994 as gangs of machete-wielding Hutus roamed the country slaughtering not only ethnic Tutsis but also moderate members of their own race while the outside world simply stood by.
Rwanda began holding trials 10 years ago in connection with the genocide.
Earlier this month a United Nations court trying leaders of the genocide sentenced a former Catholic priest to 15 years in jail for ordering bulldozers to flatten a church in which 2,000 Tutsis were taking refuge.
Father Athanese Seromba had denied the charges.
He was the 27th person to be convicted by the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda.
The process took on a new twist last month when a French anti-terrorism judge called for Rwandan President Paul Kagame to stand trial for the shooting down of a plane carrying then President Juvenal Habyarimana that triggered the genocide.
Kigali has ridiculed the accusations, cut diplomatic ties and accused France of trying to cover what it says is its own guilt over the massacre.
Four men in UK court over Rwandan genocide
Friday December 29, 06:30 PM
LONDON (Reuters) - Four men appeared in a London court on Friday on extradition warrants from Rwanda where they are wanted on charges of taking part in the 1994 genocide in which more than 800,000 minority Tutsis were slaughtered.
The men, all in their 40s and 50s, were arrested at their homes in coordinated raids in various parts of Britain late on Thursday, police said.
Vincent Bajinya, Charles Munyaneza, Celestin Ugirashebuja and Emmanuel Nteziryayo all face the same charges that between January 1, 1994 and December 12, 1994 they murdered, plotted to murder and aided the murder of Tutsis intending to eradicate them all.
At a hearing at Westminster Magistrates Court, Nteziryayo was remanded in custody until January 5. Bajinya, Munyaneza and Ugirashebuja were remanded until a further court appearance on January 26, a Crown Prosecution Service spokeswoman said.
Prosecutors alleged that Munyaneza, 48, Ugirashebuja, 53 and Nteziryayo, 44, had been local mayors with sweeping powers in their areas while Bajinya, 45, was accused of having been a militia co-ordinator in the capital Kigali.
All four men deny the accusations against them.
Under an agreement between Britain and Rwanda, revealed in court for the first time on Friday, the men would not be given the death penalty if they were convicted.
The massacre took place in the spring of 1994 as gangs of machete-wielding Hutus roamed the country slaughtering not only ethnic Tutsis but also moderate members of their own race while the outside world simply stood by.
Rwanda began holding trials 10 years ago in connection with the genocide.
Earlier this month a United Nations court trying leaders of the genocide sentenced a former Catholic priest to 15 years in jail for ordering bulldozers to flatten a church in which 2,000 Tutsis were taking refuge.
Father Athanese Seromba had denied the charges.
He was the 27th person to be convicted by the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda.
The process took on a new twist last month when a French anti-terrorism judge called for Rwandan President Paul Kagame to stand trial for the shooting down of a plane carrying then President Juvenal Habyarimana that triggered the genocide.
Kigali has ridiculed the accusations, cut diplomatic ties and accused France of trying to cover what it says is its own guilt over the massacre.
the definition of ridiculous...
no more cups of tea for nurses
someone needs to find out which financial whizz-kid came up with this idea for saving money, because they clearly do not have a clue, and should probably find a more suitable line of work suited to their intellect.
someone needs to find out which financial whizz-kid came up with this idea for saving money, because they clearly do not have a clue, and should probably find a more suitable line of work suited to their intellect.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Daisy the Doctor, Dr Dose, Dr Grizzly, Dr Amelia Bedelia, and colleagues
The Christmas issue of the BMJ, and out come the funny articles!
Doctors: as demonstrated in kiddie literature
"Almost all absurdity of conduct arises from the imitation of those we cannot resemble." reflection on the performance of medicine.
Doctors: as demonstrated in kiddie literature
"Almost all absurdity of conduct arises from the imitation of those we cannot resemble." reflection on the performance of medicine.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
"I don't see why we need to stand by and watch a country go communist due to the irresponsibility of its own people....
The issues are much too important for the Chilean voters to be left to decide for themselves." Kissenger.
Ask Kissinger about Pinochet's regime
By AMY GOODMAN
Thursday, December 14, 2006
As the world marked International Human Rights Day, one of the century's most notorious dictators, Gen. Augusto Pinochet, died under house arrest in Chile at the age of 91. His 17-year reign left a deep scar on Chilean society. Yet Pinochet's legacy includes an ironic upside: His regime and the U.S. support for it galvanized the modern-day international human rights movement.
On Sept. 11, 2001, as the planes hit the towers of the World Trade Center, on our daily broadcast of "Democracy Now!," we were looking at the connection between terrorism and Sept. 11, 1973. It was on that day that the democratically elected government of Chilean President Salvador Allende was overthrown in a violent coup, and the forces of Pinochet rose to power. The coup was supported by the U.S. government. Henry Kissinger, national security adviser and U.S. secretary of state, summed up the policy this way:
"I don't see why we need to stand by and watch a country go communist due to the irresponsibility of its own people. The issues are much too important for the Chilean voters to be left to decide for themselves."
As Pinochet seized power, first among the dead was the president himself, Allende. Then there were the thousands rounded up. Among them was Victor Jara, the legendary Chilean folk singer. Jara was beaten, tortured, then executed. His body was dumped on a Santiago street and found by his wife in the morgue.
Charles Horman was a U.S. journalist working in Chile. He, too, disappeared in those days following the coup. His body was found buried in a cement wall. His story was immortalized in the Academy Award-winning Constantin Costa-Gavras film "Missing." His widow, Joyce Horman, sued not only Pinochet for the death of her husband but also Kissinger and others at the U.S. State Department.
Pinochet's reign of terrorism extended beyond Chile's borders. On Sept. 21, 1976, the former foreign minister of Chile, Orlando Letelier, and his American colleague, Ronni Moffit, died in a car bombing, not in Chile, but on Embassy Row in Washington, D.C.
Then there was Chile's current president, Michelle Bachelet. Her father was a general under Allende and opposed the coup. He was arrested and died of a heart attack in prison. She and her mother were detained and tortured at the notorious Villa Grimaldi, a secret torture site in Santiago. Bachelet and her mother survived and went into exile. Her return to Chile and eventual election as president on the Socialist ticket has brought Chilean politics and history full circle. In October 2006, she returned to Villa Grimaldi. In November, Pinochet was placed under house arrest and charged with the kidnap and murder of prisoners there.
This was not the first time Pinochet was arrested. In 1998, while on a medical visit in London, he was put under house arrest after Spanish judge Baltasar Garzon issued a warrant for his arrest for the torture and murder of Spanish nationals. After 18 months, Britain finally allowed Pinochet to return to Chile for health reasons, avoiding extradition to Spain.
Pinochet's death allows him to escape conviction. Kissinger, whose support for the Pinochet regime is increasingly well documented, is still alive and still of interest to those seeking justice. Kissinger has been sought for questioning by Judge Garzon and by French Judge Roger Le Loire, both investigating the death and disappearance of their citizens in Chile. While Kissinger is frequently questioned by the media in this country, he is almost never asked about his own record. Instead, he is treated like royalty.
Questions remain about the brutal regime of Pinochet. Kissinger likely holds many answers. If we are to have a uniform standard of justice, then answers need to be demanded of the genuine terrorism experts such as Henry Kissinger.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Poem: The Jumblies
THEY went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, `You'll all be drowned!'
They called aloud, `Our Sieve ain't big,
But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig!
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed away in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,
`O won't they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat,
And they fastened it down with a pin.
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said, `How wise we are!
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long,
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong,
In the shade of the mountains brown.
`O Timballo! How happy we are,
When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar,
And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees,
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart,
And a hive of silvery Bees.
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws,
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws,
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And in twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more,
And every one said, `How tall they've grown!
For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone,
And the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast;
And every one said, `If we only live,
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,---
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Edward Lear
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, `You'll all be drowned!'
They called aloud, `Our Sieve ain't big,
But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig!
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed away in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,
`O won't they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat,
And they fastened it down with a pin.
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said, `How wise we are!
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long,
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong,
In the shade of the mountains brown.
`O Timballo! How happy we are,
When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar,
And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees,
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart,
And a hive of silvery Bees.
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws,
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws,
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And in twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more,
And every one said, `How tall they've grown!
For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone,
And the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast;
And every one said, `If we only live,
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,---
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Edward Lear
Monday, December 04, 2006
MTAS...
... is back up.
wicked.
thoughtful quote of the day:
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." —George Santayana
wicked.
thoughtful quote of the day:
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." —George Santayana
Sunday, December 03, 2006
MTAS...
... seems to be down.
Emily Rigby, the Chair of BMA MedicalStudents Committee:
"I just phoned Derek Gallen (head of COPMED) to make him aware that this has happened.He hadnot been informed of it previously but is going to get on to theMTAS teamto make sure that it is rectified asap. He emphasised that they have done everything to ensure that this wasn't going to happen(didn't they say thatabout the Titanic?!), but hopefully all those backupswill ensure that this will be easily dealt with. No applicants should be disadvantaged by this and it will be sorted out. I will fill you in as and when I hear."
hopefully this will get sorted soon (considering deadline is noon tuesday).
(MTAS is the online application process for final year medical students and their first jobs. i hate computers)
Emily Rigby, the Chair of BMA MedicalStudents Committee:
"I just phoned Derek Gallen (head of COPMED) to make him aware that this has happened.He hadnot been informed of it previously but is going to get on to theMTAS teamto make sure that it is rectified asap. He emphasised that they have done everything to ensure that this wasn't going to happen(didn't they say thatabout the Titanic?!), but hopefully all those backupswill ensure that this will be easily dealt with. No applicants should be disadvantaged by this and it will be sorted out. I will fill you in as and when I hear."
hopefully this will get sorted soon (considering deadline is noon tuesday).
(MTAS is the online application process for final year medical students and their first jobs. i hate computers)
Sunday, November 26, 2006
want to get an overview on the classics, but don't have time to read the books, or even watch the films?
try book-a-minute. for sooth, it does what it says on the tin.
my personal favourite summary... animal farm
my personal favourite summary... animal farm
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
the slave trade in Britain
abolished in 1807, and most ppl don't about it. neither did i until today.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Friday, October 20, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
the freaky facebook phenomenon...
this is an interview with one of the co-founders Chris Hughes. for those who don't know: a bunch of harvard students set up this personal info database type thing - which you can log on to via your official email address from workplace/uni/high school. you then belong to your real life community, but online. you can then read up on the profiles of the ppl who go to your uni/workplace. these are the ppl you may never have spoken to, but just may randomly see in passing. i guess they hope you would then translate your online info finding to eventually talking to each other in 'real life'.
you will not find me on facebook, or bebo, or WAYN. i don't like these things.
i find it freaky when someone has been asking around about me, then talking to me as if they know me. i would find it weirder for people who i may not even notice, but would notice me, pick up a lot of personal info, and what i do, etc from these sites. and just know it. may not approach me or anything. but just know.
call me old fashioned, but i really don't think voyeurism is the way forward for human interaction. you want to know a person? say hello. then take it from there.
the sites seem to apply to several types of ppl:
1 - super shy folk, or people who aren't very good at dealing with people.
2 - stalker type folk
3 - exhibitionist type folk
4 - normal folk who have not thought through the consequences.
i shall leave you with a sesame street sketch, which for some reason is etched into my memory. bert is on a plane, and is sitting next to a guy, who has the same jumper, trousers and socks as him. you hear the thoughts of both characters as they wonder whether they should speak to each other. they then both ask the stewardess for a bowl of hot water for their instant porridge. they eventually get talking only to discover they have many things in common.
as with many sesame street sketch's, the whole plane ends up uniting together in song to the chorus:
'stick out your hand and say hello
you might meet someone that you would really love to know
so stick out your hand and say
isn't it grand today
stick out your hand
and say hello!'
so how would two ppl who 'know' each other from facebook, but never spoken to each other before, begin their conversation? would there be no hint of embarrassment at the voyeurism they had partaken in?
oh sesame street, where are you now? hrmphh.
remember ppl - just say 'hello'. and if you already know them from 'real life', just email them.
you will not find me on facebook, or bebo, or WAYN. i don't like these things.
i find it freaky when someone has been asking around about me, then talking to me as if they know me. i would find it weirder for people who i may not even notice, but would notice me, pick up a lot of personal info, and what i do, etc from these sites. and just know it. may not approach me or anything. but just know.
call me old fashioned, but i really don't think voyeurism is the way forward for human interaction. you want to know a person? say hello. then take it from there.
the sites seem to apply to several types of ppl:
1 - super shy folk, or people who aren't very good at dealing with people.
2 - stalker type folk
3 - exhibitionist type folk
4 - normal folk who have not thought through the consequences.
i shall leave you with a sesame street sketch, which for some reason is etched into my memory. bert is on a plane, and is sitting next to a guy, who has the same jumper, trousers and socks as him. you hear the thoughts of both characters as they wonder whether they should speak to each other. they then both ask the stewardess for a bowl of hot water for their instant porridge. they eventually get talking only to discover they have many things in common.
as with many sesame street sketch's, the whole plane ends up uniting together in song to the chorus:
'stick out your hand and say hello
you might meet someone that you would really love to know
so stick out your hand and say
isn't it grand today
stick out your hand
and say hello!'
so how would two ppl who 'know' each other from facebook, but never spoken to each other before, begin their conversation? would there be no hint of embarrassment at the voyeurism they had partaken in?
oh sesame street, where are you now? hrmphh.
remember ppl - just say 'hello'. and if you already know them from 'real life', just email them.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
a jovial look at the wearing of a stethoscope
(continuing with the stethoscope theme)
the article
and the responses
(and what you can do if a patient is finding it hard to hear you)
the article
and the responses
(and what you can do if a patient is finding it hard to hear you)
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Poem: The Stethoscope Song
(A lesson that whatever a stethoscope may find, is only as useful as that thing between the ears that interprets it)
The Stethoscope Song
A PROFESSSIONAL BALLAD
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1848)
THERE was a young man in Boston town,
He bought him a stethoscope nice and new,
All mounted and finished and polished down,
With an ivory cap and a stopper too.
It happened a spider within did crawl,
And spun him a web of ample size,
Wherein there chanced one day to fall
A couple of very imprudent flies.
The first was a bottle-fly, big and blue,
The second was smaller, and thin and long;
So there was a concert between the two,
Like an octave flute and a tavern gong.
Now being from Paris but recently,
This fine young man would show his skill;
And so they gave him, his hand to try,
A hospital patient extremely ill.
Some said that his liver was short of bile,
And some that his heart was over size,
While some kept arguing, all the while,
He was crammed with tubercles up to his eyes.
This fine young man then up stepped he,
And all the doctors made a pause;
Said he, The man must die, you see,
By the fifty-seventh of Louis's laws.
But since the case is a desperate one,
To explore his chest it may be well;
For if he should die and it were not done,
You know the autopsy would not tell.
Then out his stethoscope he took,
And on it placed his curious ear;
Mon Dieu! said he, with a knowing look,
Why, here is a sound that's mighty queer!
The bourdonnement is very clear,--
Amphoric buzzing, as I 'm alive!
Five doctors took their turn to hear;
Amphoric buzzing, said all the five.
There's empyema beyond a doubt
We'll plunge a trocar in his side.
The diagnosis was made out,--
They tapped the patient; so he died.
Now such as hate new-fashioned toys
Began to look extremely glum;
They said that rattles were made for boys,
And vowed that his buzzing was all a hum.
There was an old lady had long been sick,
And what was the matter none did know:
Her pulse was slow, though her tongue was quick;
To her this knowing youth must go.
So there the nice old lady sat,
With phials and boxes all in a row;
She asked the young doctor what he was at,
To thump her and tumble her ruffles so.
Now, when the stethoscope came out,
The flies began to buzz and whiz:
Oh, ho! the matter is clear, no doubt;
An aneurism there plainly is.
The bruit de râpe and the bruit de scie
And the bruit de diable are all combined;
How happy Bouillaud would be,
If he a case like this could find!
Now, when the neighboring doctors found
A case so rare had been descried,
They every day her ribs did pound
In squads of twenty; so she died.
Then six young damsels, slight and frail,
Received this kind young doctor's cares;
They all were getting slim and pale,
short of breath on mounting stairs.
They all made rhymes with "sighs" and "skies,"
And loathed their puddings and buttered rolls,
And dieted, much to their friends' surprise,
On pickles and pencils and chalk and coals.
So fast their little hearts did bound,
The frightened insects buzzed the more;
So over all their chests he found
The râle sifflant and the râle sonore.
He shook his head. There's grave disease,--
I greatly fear you all must die;
A slight post-mortem, if you please,
Surviving friends would gratify.
The six young damsels wept aloud,
Which so prevailed on six young men
That each his honest love avowed,
Whereat they all got well again.
This poor young man was all aghast;
The price of stethoscopes came down;
And so he was reduced at last
To practise in a country town.
The doctors being very sore,
A stethoscope they did devise
That had a rammer to clear the bore
With a knob at the end to kill the flies.
Now use your ears, all you that can,
But don't forget to mind your eyes,
Or you may be cheated, like this young man,
By a couple of silly, abnormal flies.
http://www.ibiblio.org/eldritch/owh/steth.html
The Stethoscope Song
A PROFESSSIONAL BALLAD
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1848)
THERE was a young man in Boston town,
He bought him a stethoscope nice and new,
All mounted and finished and polished down,
With an ivory cap and a stopper too.
It happened a spider within did crawl,
And spun him a web of ample size,
Wherein there chanced one day to fall
A couple of very imprudent flies.
The first was a bottle-fly, big and blue,
The second was smaller, and thin and long;
So there was a concert between the two,
Like an octave flute and a tavern gong.
Now being from Paris but recently,
This fine young man would show his skill;
And so they gave him, his hand to try,
A hospital patient extremely ill.
Some said that his liver was short of bile,
And some that his heart was over size,
While some kept arguing, all the while,
He was crammed with tubercles up to his eyes.
This fine young man then up stepped he,
And all the doctors made a pause;
Said he, The man must die, you see,
By the fifty-seventh of Louis's laws.
But since the case is a desperate one,
To explore his chest it may be well;
For if he should die and it were not done,
You know the autopsy would not tell.
Then out his stethoscope he took,
And on it placed his curious ear;
Mon Dieu! said he, with a knowing look,
Why, here is a sound that's mighty queer!
The bourdonnement is very clear,--
Amphoric buzzing, as I 'm alive!
Five doctors took their turn to hear;
Amphoric buzzing, said all the five.
There's empyema beyond a doubt
We'll plunge a trocar in his side.
The diagnosis was made out,--
They tapped the patient; so he died.
Now such as hate new-fashioned toys
Began to look extremely glum;
They said that rattles were made for boys,
And vowed that his buzzing was all a hum.
There was an old lady had long been sick,
And what was the matter none did know:
Her pulse was slow, though her tongue was quick;
To her this knowing youth must go.
So there the nice old lady sat,
With phials and boxes all in a row;
She asked the young doctor what he was at,
To thump her and tumble her ruffles so.
Now, when the stethoscope came out,
The flies began to buzz and whiz:
Oh, ho! the matter is clear, no doubt;
An aneurism there plainly is.
The bruit de râpe and the bruit de scie
And the bruit de diable are all combined;
How happy Bouillaud would be,
If he a case like this could find!
Now, when the neighboring doctors found
A case so rare had been descried,
They every day her ribs did pound
In squads of twenty; so she died.
Then six young damsels, slight and frail,
Received this kind young doctor's cares;
They all were getting slim and pale,
short of breath on mounting stairs.
They all made rhymes with "sighs" and "skies,"
And loathed their puddings and buttered rolls,
And dieted, much to their friends' surprise,
On pickles and pencils and chalk and coals.
So fast their little hearts did bound,
The frightened insects buzzed the more;
So over all their chests he found
The râle sifflant and the râle sonore.
He shook his head. There's grave disease,--
I greatly fear you all must die;
A slight post-mortem, if you please,
Surviving friends would gratify.
The six young damsels wept aloud,
Which so prevailed on six young men
That each his honest love avowed,
Whereat they all got well again.
This poor young man was all aghast;
The price of stethoscopes came down;
And so he was reduced at last
To practise in a country town.
The doctors being very sore,
A stethoscope they did devise
That had a rammer to clear the bore
With a knob at the end to kill the flies.
Now use your ears, all you that can,
But don't forget to mind your eyes,
Or you may be cheated, like this young man,
By a couple of silly, abnormal flies.
http://www.ibiblio.org/eldritch/owh/steth.html
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Poem: What The Doctor Said
He said it doesn't look good
he said it looks bad in fact real bad
he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before
I quit counting themI said I'm glad I wouldn't want to know
about any more being there than that
he said are you a religious man do you kneel down
in forest groves and let yourself ask for help
when you come to a waterfall
mist blowing against your face and arms
do you stop and ask for understanding at those moments
I said not yet but I intend to start today
he said I'm real sorry he said
I wish I had some other kind of news to give you
I said Amen and he said something else
I didn't catch and not knowing what else to do
and not wanting him to have to repeat it
and me to have to fully digest it
I just looked at him
for a minute and he looked back it was then
I jumped up and shook hands with this man who'd just given me
something no one else on earth had ever given me
I may have even thanked him habit being so strong
Raymond Carver
he said it looks bad in fact real bad
he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before
I quit counting themI said I'm glad I wouldn't want to know
about any more being there than that
he said are you a religious man do you kneel down
in forest groves and let yourself ask for help
when you come to a waterfall
mist blowing against your face and arms
do you stop and ask for understanding at those moments
I said not yet but I intend to start today
he said I'm real sorry he said
I wish I had some other kind of news to give you
I said Amen and he said something else
I didn't catch and not knowing what else to do
and not wanting him to have to repeat it
and me to have to fully digest it
I just looked at him
for a minute and he looked back it was then
I jumped up and shook hands with this man who'd just given me
something no one else on earth had ever given me
I may have even thanked him habit being so strong
Raymond Carver
Sunday, September 24, 2006
a satrical exam
written in the 1970's, so not the most politically correct thing i've come across (with stuff i quite frankly disapprove of), but it is an interesting take on exams.
science/knowledge related sayings.
some of my favourites:
Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before. Steven Wright
In his youth, the born poet often wavers between science and literature; and his choice is determined by the chance attraction of one or other of the alternative modes of expressing his imaginative joy in nature. It is essential to keep in mind that science and poetry have the same root in human nature.
Alfred North Whitehead
Man who says it cannot be done, should not interrupt man doing it. Chinese proverb
Chinese proverb - outside noisy, inside empty
The Parable of the Pebbles
Amoeba
science/knowledge related sayings.
some of my favourites:
Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before. Steven Wright
In his youth, the born poet often wavers between science and literature; and his choice is determined by the chance attraction of one or other of the alternative modes of expressing his imaginative joy in nature. It is essential to keep in mind that science and poetry have the same root in human nature.
Alfred North Whitehead
Man who says it cannot be done, should not interrupt man doing it. Chinese proverb
Chinese proverb - outside noisy, inside empty
The Parable of the Pebbles
Amoeba
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
shocking news.
"Pluto is dead," Mike Brown of the California Institute of Technology bluntly told reporters on a teleconference.
well there goes my way of remembering the planets (learned at the tender age of 10): many volcanoes erupt mouldy jam sandwiches, usually niffy poo.
oh dear.
well there goes my way of remembering the planets (learned at the tender age of 10): many volcanoes erupt mouldy jam sandwiches, usually niffy poo.
oh dear.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
"Even the penguins had left," he said.
A Job With Travel but No Vacation
Warren St. John, New York Times
IN March, Thomas Kohnstamm, a 30-year-old Seattle native on assignment in Caracas, Venezuela, for Lonely Planet travel guides, walked out of a bar in a neighborhood called Sabana Grande and quickly found himself in trouble. A group of young men emerged from darkened doorways and set upon him. He was pistol-whipped and knocked to the ground, and the bandits began rifling through his pockets. Angered to learn that Mr. Kohnstamm had the equivalent of just $8, the thieves demanded his belt, his shoes, and eventually his pants.
It was at that point, Mr. Kohnstamm recalled in a telephone conversation last week from the Netherlands, that the police arrived. Armed with submachine guns, they ordered the bandits against a wall and retrieved Mr. Kohnstamm's possessions — including his ATM card. They then explained that for purposes of their investigation, they would need to know Mr. Kohnstamm's PIN. In the end, Mr. Kohnstamm said, the police shook him down for just $25, but in the process, he gained a priceless bit of wisdom about the Sabana Grande neighborhood of Caracas, which he dutifully reported in the "Dangers & Annoyances" section of his Lonely Planet guide: "Caracas has some well-known issues with petty crime, robbery and armed assaults. These problems are not just hype and should be taken very seriously."
In the interview, Mr. Kohnstamm, a travel writer, described the experience as one of "the darker realities of the job." He added that he stared death in the face on an assignment when the brakes of his car failed on an icy road in the Andes. Other realities of the job, he said, were "being broke, spending massive amounts of time staying in fleabag hotels, and there are aspects of the writing that are just data entry."
It's summer now, and countless travelers are fumbling their way around the globe, heads buried in guides published by Let's Go, Lonely Planet, Rough Guides and Frommer's among others. Probably few stop to consider what goes into producing travel guides or even who wrote them. And as it turns out, many of the intrepid young writers scouring the planet doing research for next year's crop of guidebooks never stopped to consider what those jobs would entail, other than the romantic — and often overstated — prospect of being paid to travel.
While the phrase "travel writing" may invoke thoughts of steamer trunks, trains, Isak Dinesen and Graham Greene, or at the very least, well-financed junkets to spas in Rangoon for some glossy magazine or other, writing budget travel guides is most decidedly yeoman's work. Most who do it quickly learn the one hard and fast rule of the trade: travel-guide writing is no vacation.
"Many underestimate exactly how much work goes into making a guide book," said Jay Cooke, an editor for Lonely Planet. "Some potential authors think it would be fun to travel and get paid for it. But they're expected to write tens of thousands of words. It's a big, big job, and it goes far beyond journal keeping on a beach somewhere."
Indeed a day in the life of a guide writer can be wearying. Amelia Atlas, a recent Harvard graduate who is now in Berlin researching a guide to that city for Let's Go, said that last Wednesday she set out early to case a new neighborhood, Prenzlauer Berg, for her Berlin guide. She visited three hostels and three restaurants before collecting the shopping and eating options around a particular square. She visited a section of the Berlin Wall that still stands, made notes about the historical displays there, and set about walking the neighborhood block by block to see what she might find. After a quick dinner, Ms. Atlas went to her apartment to write about the day's findings. Then she planned to go out to sample the night life. "Manic is a good word," she said.
That's when things go well. A colleague of Ms. Atlas's at Let's Go, Margaux McDonald, wasn't having such luck. After a bumpy two-day journey from Ko Chang, Thailand, to Siem Reap, Cambodia, in late June, Ms. McDonald, a 27-year-old graduate student in theology and public policy at Harvard, opened her backpack to find her laptop was broken. She has since been in what Let's Go editors call "dead tree mode," taking down information about guest houses, restaurants, national parks and bus schedules, in an old-fashioned spiral notebook. Ms. McDonald gave her current location as "somewhere between the middle of nowhere and my own private hell."
Let's Go editors were planning to send a new computer to a post office in Ubon Ratchathani, Thailand, on the hope that Ms. McDonald could pick it up. If she could find the place.
"Have I gotten lost?" Ms. McDonald asked rhetorically. "I'm virtually always lost."
For Saritha Komatireddy, a Let's Go writer currently in Vietnam, the biggest challenge was getting used to the local transportation schedules.
"It's not uncommon for a train to be four hours late," she said. "You can't let it ruin your mood."
Michael Spring, the publisher of Frommer's Travel Guides, said that the tight margins of guide publishing require companies like his to employ younger, less seasoned writers. Experienced editors, he said, vet the work to ensure accuracy.
"There's no question that a younger writer needs more hand-holding, but the editors are here to help them," he said.
It's difficult to generalize about the pay scale for guide writing because it varies so widely, though most guide writers seem to agree that the wages are not enough. A writer working from scratch on a comprehensive guide to a country may get an advance of $100,000, from which a year or more of travel expenses must be deducted. Some companies offer guide writers royalties, like conventional publishers. But most guide writing is decidedly less lucrative, and expenses are almost never covered separately. MTV and Frommer's, for example, are collaborating to publish a budget travel series for Europe for which they are paying writers $1,500 for roughly 150 pages of work.
"None of them are in it for the money," Mr. Spring said. "It's a happy alternative to a 9-to-5 world."
Robert Reid, a professional guide writer who has written for Lonely Planet, said that making a living from guide writing was tough in part because of the number of young people who were willing to do the job for next to nothing.
"Just like a Stones fanatic would probably lug around Keith Richards's amp for free, with guidebooks people are a little bit in awe of the idea," Mr. Reid said.
Leif Pettersen, a struggling 36-year-old guide writer from Minneapolis who details the woes of his profession on his blog, http://www.killingbatteries.com/, said he earned no income for the first year of his career. The temptation to take freebies from publicity-seeking hotel and restaurant owners is strong, Mr. Pettersen said, adding that he resists the urge while on assignment for Lonely Planet, which forbids freebies. Let's Go writers face similar restrictions, and are urged not to identify themselves as guide writers, so as not to invite favorable treatment. Mr. Spring said Frommer's writers are allowed to accept free hotel rooms, but not free meals or tickets.
Mr. Pettersen's advice to aspiring guide writers was: "Start out with a giant wad of savings."
Another factor in determining how enjoyable — or miserable — a guide writing assignment will be is timing. To conform with the academic calendar, Let's Go, which is owned and run by Harvard Student Services and employs Harvard students exclusively, sends its researchers into the field in the summer. There are currently 80 Let's Go researchers on assignment around the globe.
But other guide publishers, like Lonely Planet and Frommer's, are on year-round publishing cycles, and consequently their researchers may find themselves traveling at less than ideal times in certain regions.
To meet his deadline for a Lonely Planet guide to Romania and Moldova, Mr. Pettersen had to do his research during winter, when roads were icy, the sun set at 4 p.m., and fun-loving tourists were nowhere to be seen. Mr. Pettersen said his excursion reached a low point on a darkened, pothole-filled highway between Drobeta-Turnu Severin and Timisoara in Romania. Mr. Pettersen's car, a 16-year-old notoriously delicate Romanian car called a Dacia, had faulty headlights. Unable to see or avoid potholes, he battered his vehicle until the muffler fell off and he lost a critical bolt that fastened the hood shut.
Mr. Pettersen said he stopped for the night at a rural boarding house, and found the place full of drunken industrial workers who seemed none too pleased to see him.
"I just sat in my bed and stared at the ceiling," he said. "I was too terrified to take off my clothes."
Asked to describe the overall experience of traveling in Romania and Moldova during winter, Mr. Pettersen thought for a moment, searching, it seemed, for the precise word.
"Terrible," he said. "There's been a lot quiet weeping into my keyboard."
Mr. Kohnstamm, the writer who was pistol-whipped in Caracas, said he'd once had an assignment to do research in Patagonia during winter.
"Even the penguins had left," he said.
"Why do it? For the lifestyle," added Mr. Kohnstamm, who teaches a seminar on guide writing titled "Travel Writing: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" for MediaBistro, a company that caters to freelance writers. "I didn't make a lot of money last year, but I got my advanced diving certification. I took a course in paragliding. I went out partying in Bogotá and met a lot of cool people. It can be kind of addictive."
Publishers of travel guides say they go out of their way to give new writers a reality check. Laura Martin, the editor in chief of Let's Go, said that researchers are given 20 hours of training in subjects like self-defense and driving and that they're asked to do a dry run in Boston before setting out for more exotic destinations. Lonely Planet writers are schooled in cartography, and encouraged to attend annual seminars on guide writing. And even editors of the on-the-cheap Frommer's and MTV guides said they hired the most well-traveled 20-somethings they could find.
"It's not just an open-eyed American descending on a new destination," said Mr. Spring, the Frommer's publisher.
He had his own advice for new guide writers. First, he said, don't complain. "Nobody is going to feel sorry for you getting six weeks of free travel in Europe," he said.
And second: "Make a list of the places you'd like to come back to when you're not travel writing."
Warren St. John, New York Times
IN March, Thomas Kohnstamm, a 30-year-old Seattle native on assignment in Caracas, Venezuela, for Lonely Planet travel guides, walked out of a bar in a neighborhood called Sabana Grande and quickly found himself in trouble. A group of young men emerged from darkened doorways and set upon him. He was pistol-whipped and knocked to the ground, and the bandits began rifling through his pockets. Angered to learn that Mr. Kohnstamm had the equivalent of just $8, the thieves demanded his belt, his shoes, and eventually his pants.
It was at that point, Mr. Kohnstamm recalled in a telephone conversation last week from the Netherlands, that the police arrived. Armed with submachine guns, they ordered the bandits against a wall and retrieved Mr. Kohnstamm's possessions — including his ATM card. They then explained that for purposes of their investigation, they would need to know Mr. Kohnstamm's PIN. In the end, Mr. Kohnstamm said, the police shook him down for just $25, but in the process, he gained a priceless bit of wisdom about the Sabana Grande neighborhood of Caracas, which he dutifully reported in the "Dangers & Annoyances" section of his Lonely Planet guide: "Caracas has some well-known issues with petty crime, robbery and armed assaults. These problems are not just hype and should be taken very seriously."
In the interview, Mr. Kohnstamm, a travel writer, described the experience as one of "the darker realities of the job." He added that he stared death in the face on an assignment when the brakes of his car failed on an icy road in the Andes. Other realities of the job, he said, were "being broke, spending massive amounts of time staying in fleabag hotels, and there are aspects of the writing that are just data entry."
It's summer now, and countless travelers are fumbling their way around the globe, heads buried in guides published by Let's Go, Lonely Planet, Rough Guides and Frommer's among others. Probably few stop to consider what goes into producing travel guides or even who wrote them. And as it turns out, many of the intrepid young writers scouring the planet doing research for next year's crop of guidebooks never stopped to consider what those jobs would entail, other than the romantic — and often overstated — prospect of being paid to travel.
While the phrase "travel writing" may invoke thoughts of steamer trunks, trains, Isak Dinesen and Graham Greene, or at the very least, well-financed junkets to spas in Rangoon for some glossy magazine or other, writing budget travel guides is most decidedly yeoman's work. Most who do it quickly learn the one hard and fast rule of the trade: travel-guide writing is no vacation.
"Many underestimate exactly how much work goes into making a guide book," said Jay Cooke, an editor for Lonely Planet. "Some potential authors think it would be fun to travel and get paid for it. But they're expected to write tens of thousands of words. It's a big, big job, and it goes far beyond journal keeping on a beach somewhere."
Indeed a day in the life of a guide writer can be wearying. Amelia Atlas, a recent Harvard graduate who is now in Berlin researching a guide to that city for Let's Go, said that last Wednesday she set out early to case a new neighborhood, Prenzlauer Berg, for her Berlin guide. She visited three hostels and three restaurants before collecting the shopping and eating options around a particular square. She visited a section of the Berlin Wall that still stands, made notes about the historical displays there, and set about walking the neighborhood block by block to see what she might find. After a quick dinner, Ms. Atlas went to her apartment to write about the day's findings. Then she planned to go out to sample the night life. "Manic is a good word," she said.
That's when things go well. A colleague of Ms. Atlas's at Let's Go, Margaux McDonald, wasn't having such luck. After a bumpy two-day journey from Ko Chang, Thailand, to Siem Reap, Cambodia, in late June, Ms. McDonald, a 27-year-old graduate student in theology and public policy at Harvard, opened her backpack to find her laptop was broken. She has since been in what Let's Go editors call "dead tree mode," taking down information about guest houses, restaurants, national parks and bus schedules, in an old-fashioned spiral notebook. Ms. McDonald gave her current location as "somewhere between the middle of nowhere and my own private hell."
Let's Go editors were planning to send a new computer to a post office in Ubon Ratchathani, Thailand, on the hope that Ms. McDonald could pick it up. If she could find the place.
"Have I gotten lost?" Ms. McDonald asked rhetorically. "I'm virtually always lost."
For Saritha Komatireddy, a Let's Go writer currently in Vietnam, the biggest challenge was getting used to the local transportation schedules.
"It's not uncommon for a train to be four hours late," she said. "You can't let it ruin your mood."
Michael Spring, the publisher of Frommer's Travel Guides, said that the tight margins of guide publishing require companies like his to employ younger, less seasoned writers. Experienced editors, he said, vet the work to ensure accuracy.
"There's no question that a younger writer needs more hand-holding, but the editors are here to help them," he said.
It's difficult to generalize about the pay scale for guide writing because it varies so widely, though most guide writers seem to agree that the wages are not enough. A writer working from scratch on a comprehensive guide to a country may get an advance of $100,000, from which a year or more of travel expenses must be deducted. Some companies offer guide writers royalties, like conventional publishers. But most guide writing is decidedly less lucrative, and expenses are almost never covered separately. MTV and Frommer's, for example, are collaborating to publish a budget travel series for Europe for which they are paying writers $1,500 for roughly 150 pages of work.
"None of them are in it for the money," Mr. Spring said. "It's a happy alternative to a 9-to-5 world."
Robert Reid, a professional guide writer who has written for Lonely Planet, said that making a living from guide writing was tough in part because of the number of young people who were willing to do the job for next to nothing.
"Just like a Stones fanatic would probably lug around Keith Richards's amp for free, with guidebooks people are a little bit in awe of the idea," Mr. Reid said.
Leif Pettersen, a struggling 36-year-old guide writer from Minneapolis who details the woes of his profession on his blog, http://www.killingbatteries.com/, said he earned no income for the first year of his career. The temptation to take freebies from publicity-seeking hotel and restaurant owners is strong, Mr. Pettersen said, adding that he resists the urge while on assignment for Lonely Planet, which forbids freebies. Let's Go writers face similar restrictions, and are urged not to identify themselves as guide writers, so as not to invite favorable treatment. Mr. Spring said Frommer's writers are allowed to accept free hotel rooms, but not free meals or tickets.
Mr. Pettersen's advice to aspiring guide writers was: "Start out with a giant wad of savings."
Another factor in determining how enjoyable — or miserable — a guide writing assignment will be is timing. To conform with the academic calendar, Let's Go, which is owned and run by Harvard Student Services and employs Harvard students exclusively, sends its researchers into the field in the summer. There are currently 80 Let's Go researchers on assignment around the globe.
But other guide publishers, like Lonely Planet and Frommer's, are on year-round publishing cycles, and consequently their researchers may find themselves traveling at less than ideal times in certain regions.
To meet his deadline for a Lonely Planet guide to Romania and Moldova, Mr. Pettersen had to do his research during winter, when roads were icy, the sun set at 4 p.m., and fun-loving tourists were nowhere to be seen. Mr. Pettersen said his excursion reached a low point on a darkened, pothole-filled highway between Drobeta-Turnu Severin and Timisoara in Romania. Mr. Pettersen's car, a 16-year-old notoriously delicate Romanian car called a Dacia, had faulty headlights. Unable to see or avoid potholes, he battered his vehicle until the muffler fell off and he lost a critical bolt that fastened the hood shut.
Mr. Pettersen said he stopped for the night at a rural boarding house, and found the place full of drunken industrial workers who seemed none too pleased to see him.
"I just sat in my bed and stared at the ceiling," he said. "I was too terrified to take off my clothes."
Asked to describe the overall experience of traveling in Romania and Moldova during winter, Mr. Pettersen thought for a moment, searching, it seemed, for the precise word.
"Terrible," he said. "There's been a lot quiet weeping into my keyboard."
Mr. Kohnstamm, the writer who was pistol-whipped in Caracas, said he'd once had an assignment to do research in Patagonia during winter.
"Even the penguins had left," he said.
"Why do it? For the lifestyle," added Mr. Kohnstamm, who teaches a seminar on guide writing titled "Travel Writing: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" for MediaBistro, a company that caters to freelance writers. "I didn't make a lot of money last year, but I got my advanced diving certification. I took a course in paragliding. I went out partying in Bogotá and met a lot of cool people. It can be kind of addictive."
Publishers of travel guides say they go out of their way to give new writers a reality check. Laura Martin, the editor in chief of Let's Go, said that researchers are given 20 hours of training in subjects like self-defense and driving and that they're asked to do a dry run in Boston before setting out for more exotic destinations. Lonely Planet writers are schooled in cartography, and encouraged to attend annual seminars on guide writing. And even editors of the on-the-cheap Frommer's and MTV guides said they hired the most well-traveled 20-somethings they could find.
"It's not just an open-eyed American descending on a new destination," said Mr. Spring, the Frommer's publisher.
He had his own advice for new guide writers. First, he said, don't complain. "Nobody is going to feel sorry for you getting six weeks of free travel in Europe," he said.
And second: "Make a list of the places you'd like to come back to when you're not travel writing."
Sunday, July 16, 2006
an interesting quote...
'It is often supposed that Ballard's exposure to the atrocities of war at an impressionable age explains the apocalyptic and violent nature of much of his fiction. [4] [5] [6] Martin Amis wrote that Empire of the Sun "gives shape to what shaped him." [7] However, Ballard's own account of the experience is more nuanced: "I don't think you can go through the experience of war without one's perceptions of the world being forever changed. The reassuring stage set that everyday reality in the suburban west presents to us is torn down; you see the ragged scaffolding, and then you see the truth beyond that, and it can be a frightening experience." (Livingstone 1996) But also: "I have—I won't say happy—not unpleasant memories of the camp. [...] I remember a lot of the casual brutality and beatings-up that went on—but at the same we children were playing a hundred and one games all the time!" (Pringle 1982)'
wikipedia
JG Ballard on the memories that formed 'empire of the sun'
I must have watched that film for the first time when I was about 10 or something. Watching it again now was wierd. It has that deeply uncomfortable feel to it. That fear of losing your parents as a child, when the world is a large, impersonal and scary place. Of dealing with stuff noone should have to deal with. How there are different levels of dealing with people, that the back-drop and dominating giant of war, doesn't stop that human interaction. That senseless violence is inflicted, and people don't think about who they're doing it to - depersonalising and dehumanising the victim makes the violence seem less unacceptable.
I babble, but the deeply uncomfortable thing, is that this story is played out, time, and time again, but with different faces, and in different places. People have not learnt.
wikipedia
JG Ballard on the memories that formed 'empire of the sun'
I must have watched that film for the first time when I was about 10 or something. Watching it again now was wierd. It has that deeply uncomfortable feel to it. That fear of losing your parents as a child, when the world is a large, impersonal and scary place. Of dealing with stuff noone should have to deal with. How there are different levels of dealing with people, that the back-drop and dominating giant of war, doesn't stop that human interaction. That senseless violence is inflicted, and people don't think about who they're doing it to - depersonalising and dehumanising the victim makes the violence seem less unacceptable.
I babble, but the deeply uncomfortable thing, is that this story is played out, time, and time again, but with different faces, and in different places. People have not learnt.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
closing your eyes doesn't make a problem go away
photography documenting the darker side of humanity.
James Nachtwey
Tom Stoddart: iWitness
Tom Stoddart: eMotion
a brief discussion on a forum on the showing of such photographs
James Nachtwey
Tom Stoddart: iWitness
Tom Stoddart: eMotion
a brief discussion on a forum on the showing of such photographs
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Things are always so much more grand and wonderful when your friends are there to share them. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
A selection of Pooh sayings:
Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Rivers know this: There is no hurry. We shall get there one day. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
When you are a bear of very little brain, and you think of things, you sometimes find that a thing which seemed very thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it! ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. ~Christopher Robin (smart kid, that one (not Pooh, i know)).
Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Rivers know this: There is no hurry. We shall get there one day. ~Winnie-the-Pooh
When you are a bear of very little brain, and you think of things, you sometimes find that a thing which seemed very thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it! ~Winnie-the-Pooh
Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. ~Christopher Robin (smart kid, that one (not Pooh, i know)).
Monday, July 10, 2006
improving the beautiful game
While I have rather enjoyed watching the world cup, I can't help but think football needs to evolve.
I suggest the addition of an extra ball.
2 balls could make the game a lot more exciting... or confusing. No matter, would be great to watch!
I suggest the addition of an extra ball.
2 balls could make the game a lot more exciting... or confusing. No matter, would be great to watch!
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Zidane
one of the greatest, if not the greatest, player to be seen these days.
Champion's creed drives Zidane along the final straight
Few players bow out at a World Cup final, but then even fewer have Zinedine Zidane's combination of talent and determination, writes Glenn Moore
Published: 08 July 2006
He is recognised as the finest player France has produced, eclipsing Michel Platini, and the world's best since Diego Maradona. But why? What makes Zinedine Zidane so special?
The answer, say the men who should know, is a rare blend of talent and attitude.
"He is is a great player for a variety of reasons, not least pride," said Johnny Giles, himself a high-class midfielder for Leeds United and the Republic of Ireland.
Giles added: "At 34, when you have won so much and earned so much, it is unusual to see a man putting himself on the line as Zidane is. Any old player will tell you that at 34 you still can produce a performance or two, but it is a hell of a lot harder than when you're 24.
"The most remarkable thing about him is that for such a tall man he has quite beautiful balance. This allows him to do the most amazing things in tight situations, always the mark of a great one.
"You can throw in most of the attributes of all-time greats: brilliant vision and tremendous technique, in both passing the ball, and going by defenders. But it is the pride that impresses me most. He wants to win, he wants to go out the right way."
That much has been clear from his demeanour and focus this tournament. Zidane himself has said: "You never get tired of winning. It doesn't matter whether I'm playing football, tennis, or any other competition."
He added: "You have to be naturally competitive at the top. The best players are self-motivated. You cannot teach people this. Titles are not everything. There's also the quality of the game, the play, the joy we can create. Yet a bad 1-0 is better than a nice 2-2."
Craig Brown, the former Scotland manager, noted: "He always seems to have time because his first touch is great. He uses his body brilliantly to screen the ball, he turns well, and he's never caught in a situation when he doesn't know what to do."
That first touch was honed in the Place Tartane amid the neglected public housing estates of Marseilles. Zidane and his friends would do tricks with the ball day after day, with Zidane the most diligent. But when he first went to Cannes - after the scout Jean Varraud told the club: "I have found a boy with hands in place of feet" - he ducked when a ball was thrown at his head. In Place Tartane there had been no heading. He later learned well enough to head two goals in a World Cup final.
Zidane moved on to Bordeaux where Gerry Francis tried to buy him for Tottenham, only to find a deal had already been struck with Juventus. Francis, who captained England from midfield, said yesterday: "Zidane always seems to have plenty of time. When the ball comes he knows exactly where everyone is, so he can play it first time, or let it run knowing no one is behind him.
"He's a bit of a stroller and he reminds me a little of Trevor Brooking. He's not the greatest tackler but he has two great feet, great vision, and in his younger days he was very mobile. He can create goals or score them, he can strike or curl the ball. If you give him the freedom of the pitch, like Brazil did, he can murder you. I'd expect Italy to man-mark him."
That, however, may create room for others, like Thierry Henry. "The whole squad benefits just from him being there," Henry said. "I see the game differently and play in another way when Zidane's in the side. The way he changes the pace of the game at will means that the rest of us are constantly finding ourselves with more space. He makes everything easier."
That said, Henry's matchwinner against Brazil was, incredibly, his first goal from a Zidane assist. This extraordinary fact has been examined for sinister implications, especially as Henry complained, in the wake of France's Euro 2004 débâcle, about the slowness of service from the midfield. One French tabloid asked then if the nation's twin stars disliked each other.
The truth is more prosaic. Henry's ego may be piqued by Zidane's status, the pair may disagree, on occasion, about the tactics France employ, but there is no bitter enmity. Henry is not a close friend, but few are. The French captain is a quiet man who wields huge influence but prefers to be on the fringe of dressing-room events. With Les Bleus he has usually had one or two close confidants, initially his old Bordeaux team-mate, Christophe Dugarry, now Willy Sagnol.
"He has an aura about him, you open the door and someone comes in, other players, you open the door and no one comes in," Brown said. "He can command without shouting the odds. The other players respect Henry's ability but they are not in awe of him the way they are with Zidane. It is great to have someone like that in a club, or team."
The final word comes from one of the new generation in the team. "Zizou is the man who shows us all how to play," said Florent Malouda. "He is our decisive player and our leader. When he plays well, the team plays well."
'He is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo'
By Glenn Moore
He adorns the wall, the menu and the staff. He even has a perch at the counter. The café Marcanne, a small corner of Berlin which has remained resolutely Gallic during this World Cup, illustrates just what Zinedine Zidane means to the French.
The house speciality is a Zizou salad. He is the main figure in many of the pictures ripped from the pages of L'Equipe and Libération and pasted on the walls. There is even a lifesize cardboard cut-out of him astride a scooter - named Zizou.
"Zidane," said the café's owner, Anne-Hadia Choukair, sporting a T-shirt with the great playmaker's visage on it, "is the man who began my love of football in 1998. I like the fact he is international. He is from an Algerian background - my own father was from Lebanon - but he is also French. Germans tend to know Germans, the French have friends from many backgrounds."
"He is a very important man but he lives a normal life, he is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo. Football needs people like Beckham, but humans need people like Zidane. Everyone would like to be his wife or brother."
This morning Anne and Marc Ortola, her husband, will host a party in which Clément d'Antibes, the fan who smuggles cockerels into football and rugby rounds, will be the star guest. After Zizou's cut-out, of course.
He is recognised as the finest player France has produced, eclipsing Michel Platini, and the world's best since Diego Maradona. But why? What makes Zinedine Zidane so special?
The answer, say the men who should know, is a rare blend of talent and attitude.
"He is is a great player for a variety of reasons, not least pride," said Johnny Giles, himself a high-class midfielder for Leeds United and the Republic of Ireland.
Giles added: "At 34, when you have won so much and earned so much, it is unusual to see a man putting himself on the line as Zidane is. Any old player will tell you that at 34 you still can produce a performance or two, but it is a hell of a lot harder than when you're 24.
"The most remarkable thing about him is that for such a tall man he has quite beautiful balance. This allows him to do the most amazing things in tight situations, always the mark of a great one.
"You can throw in most of the attributes of all-time greats: brilliant vision and tremendous technique, in both passing the ball, and going by defenders. But it is the pride that impresses me most. He wants to win, he wants to go out the right way."
That much has been clear from his demeanour and focus this tournament. Zidane himself has said: "You never get tired of winning. It doesn't matter whether I'm playing football, tennis, or any other competition."
He added: "You have to be naturally competitive at the top. The best players are self-motivated. You cannot teach people this. Titles are not everything. There's also the quality of the game, the play, the joy we can create. Yet a bad 1-0 is better than a nice 2-2."
Craig Brown, the former Scotland manager, noted: "He always seems to have time because his first touch is great. He uses his body brilliantly to screen the ball, he turns well, and he's never caught in a situation when he doesn't know what to do."
That first touch was honed in the Place Tartane amid the neglected public housing estates of Marseilles. Zidane and his friends would do tricks with the ball day after day, with Zidane the most diligent. But when he first went to Cannes - after the scout Jean Varraud told the club: "I have found a boy with hands in place of feet" - he ducked when a ball was thrown at his head. In Place Tartane there had been no heading. He later learned well enough to head two goals in a World Cup final.
Zidane moved on to Bordeaux where Gerry Francis tried to buy him for Tottenham, only to find a deal had already been struck with Juventus. Francis, who captained England from midfield, said yesterday: "Zidane always seems to have plenty of time. When the ball comes he knows exactly where everyone is, so he can play it first time, or let it run knowing no one is behind him.
"He's a bit of a stroller and he reminds me a little of Trevor Brooking. He's not the greatest tackler but he has two great feet, great vision, and in his younger days he was very mobile. He can create goals or score them, he can strike or curl the ball. If you give him the freedom of the pitch, like Brazil did, he can murder you. I'd expect Italy to man-mark him."
That, however, may create room for others, like Thierry Henry. "The whole squad benefits just from him being there," Henry said. "I see the game differently and play in another way when Zidane's in the side. The way he changes the pace of the game at will means that the rest of us are constantly finding ourselves with more space. He makes everything easier."
That said, Henry's matchwinner against Brazil was, incredibly, his first goal from a Zidane assist. This extraordinary fact has been examined for sinister implications, especially as Henry complained, in the wake of France's Euro 2004 débâcle, about the slowness of service from the midfield. One French tabloid asked then if the nation's twin stars disliked each other.
The truth is more prosaic. Henry's ego may be piqued by Zidane's status, the pair may disagree, on occasion, about the tactics France employ, but there is no bitter enmity. Henry is not a close friend, but few are. The French captain is a quiet man who wields huge influence but prefers to be on the fringe of dressing-room events. With Les Bleus he has usually had one or two close confidants, initially his old Bordeaux team-mate, Christophe Dugarry, now Willy Sagnol.
"He has an aura about him, you open the door and someone comes in, other players, you open the door and no one comes in," Brown said. "He can command without shouting the odds. The other players respect Henry's ability but they are not in awe of him the way they are with Zidane. It is great to have someone like that in a club, or team."
The final word comes from one of the new generation in the team. "Zizou is the man who shows us all how to play," said Florent Malouda. "He is our decisive player and our leader. When he plays well, the team plays well."
'He is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo'
By Glenn Moore
He adorns the wall, the menu and the staff. He even has a perch at the counter. The café Marcanne, a small corner of Berlin which has remained resolutely Gallic during this World Cup, illustrates just what Zinedine Zidane means to the French.
The house speciality is a Zizou salad. He is the main figure in many of the pictures ripped from the pages of L'Equipe and Libération and pasted on the walls. There is even a lifesize cardboard cut-out of him astride a scooter - named Zizou.
"Zidane," said the café's owner, Anne-Hadia Choukair, sporting a T-shirt with the great playmaker's visage on it, "is the man who began my love of football in 1998. I like the fact he is international. He is from an Algerian background - my own father was from Lebanon - but he is also French. Germans tend to know Germans, the French have friends from many backgrounds."
"He is a very important man but he lives a normal life, he is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo. Football needs people like Beckham, but humans need people like Zidane. Everyone would like to be his wife or brother."
This morning Anne and Marc Ortola, her husband, will host a party in which Clément d'Antibes, the fan who smuggles cockerels into football and rugby rounds, will be the star guest. After Zizou's cut-out, of course.
independant
Champion's creed drives Zidane along the final straight
Few players bow out at a World Cup final, but then even fewer have Zinedine Zidane's combination of talent and determination, writes Glenn Moore
Published: 08 July 2006
He is recognised as the finest player France has produced, eclipsing Michel Platini, and the world's best since Diego Maradona. But why? What makes Zinedine Zidane so special?
The answer, say the men who should know, is a rare blend of talent and attitude.
"He is is a great player for a variety of reasons, not least pride," said Johnny Giles, himself a high-class midfielder for Leeds United and the Republic of Ireland.
Giles added: "At 34, when you have won so much and earned so much, it is unusual to see a man putting himself on the line as Zidane is. Any old player will tell you that at 34 you still can produce a performance or two, but it is a hell of a lot harder than when you're 24.
"The most remarkable thing about him is that for such a tall man he has quite beautiful balance. This allows him to do the most amazing things in tight situations, always the mark of a great one.
"You can throw in most of the attributes of all-time greats: brilliant vision and tremendous technique, in both passing the ball, and going by defenders. But it is the pride that impresses me most. He wants to win, he wants to go out the right way."
That much has been clear from his demeanour and focus this tournament. Zidane himself has said: "You never get tired of winning. It doesn't matter whether I'm playing football, tennis, or any other competition."
He added: "You have to be naturally competitive at the top. The best players are self-motivated. You cannot teach people this. Titles are not everything. There's also the quality of the game, the play, the joy we can create. Yet a bad 1-0 is better than a nice 2-2."
Craig Brown, the former Scotland manager, noted: "He always seems to have time because his first touch is great. He uses his body brilliantly to screen the ball, he turns well, and he's never caught in a situation when he doesn't know what to do."
That first touch was honed in the Place Tartane amid the neglected public housing estates of Marseilles. Zidane and his friends would do tricks with the ball day after day, with Zidane the most diligent. But when he first went to Cannes - after the scout Jean Varraud told the club: "I have found a boy with hands in place of feet" - he ducked when a ball was thrown at his head. In Place Tartane there had been no heading. He later learned well enough to head two goals in a World Cup final.
Zidane moved on to Bordeaux where Gerry Francis tried to buy him for Tottenham, only to find a deal had already been struck with Juventus. Francis, who captained England from midfield, said yesterday: "Zidane always seems to have plenty of time. When the ball comes he knows exactly where everyone is, so he can play it first time, or let it run knowing no one is behind him.
"He's a bit of a stroller and he reminds me a little of Trevor Brooking. He's not the greatest tackler but he has two great feet, great vision, and in his younger days he was very mobile. He can create goals or score them, he can strike or curl the ball. If you give him the freedom of the pitch, like Brazil did, he can murder you. I'd expect Italy to man-mark him."
That, however, may create room for others, like Thierry Henry. "The whole squad benefits just from him being there," Henry said. "I see the game differently and play in another way when Zidane's in the side. The way he changes the pace of the game at will means that the rest of us are constantly finding ourselves with more space. He makes everything easier."
That said, Henry's matchwinner against Brazil was, incredibly, his first goal from a Zidane assist. This extraordinary fact has been examined for sinister implications, especially as Henry complained, in the wake of France's Euro 2004 débâcle, about the slowness of service from the midfield. One French tabloid asked then if the nation's twin stars disliked each other.
The truth is more prosaic. Henry's ego may be piqued by Zidane's status, the pair may disagree, on occasion, about the tactics France employ, but there is no bitter enmity. Henry is not a close friend, but few are. The French captain is a quiet man who wields huge influence but prefers to be on the fringe of dressing-room events. With Les Bleus he has usually had one or two close confidants, initially his old Bordeaux team-mate, Christophe Dugarry, now Willy Sagnol.
"He has an aura about him, you open the door and someone comes in, other players, you open the door and no one comes in," Brown said. "He can command without shouting the odds. The other players respect Henry's ability but they are not in awe of him the way they are with Zidane. It is great to have someone like that in a club, or team."
The final word comes from one of the new generation in the team. "Zizou is the man who shows us all how to play," said Florent Malouda. "He is our decisive player and our leader. When he plays well, the team plays well."
'He is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo'
By Glenn Moore
He adorns the wall, the menu and the staff. He even has a perch at the counter. The café Marcanne, a small corner of Berlin which has remained resolutely Gallic during this World Cup, illustrates just what Zinedine Zidane means to the French.
The house speciality is a Zizou salad. He is the main figure in many of the pictures ripped from the pages of L'Equipe and Libération and pasted on the walls. There is even a lifesize cardboard cut-out of him astride a scooter - named Zizou.
"Zidane," said the café's owner, Anne-Hadia Choukair, sporting a T-shirt with the great playmaker's visage on it, "is the man who began my love of football in 1998. I like the fact he is international. He is from an Algerian background - my own father was from Lebanon - but he is also French. Germans tend to know Germans, the French have friends from many backgrounds."
"He is a very important man but he lives a normal life, he is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo. Football needs people like Beckham, but humans need people like Zidane. Everyone would like to be his wife or brother."
This morning Anne and Marc Ortola, her husband, will host a party in which Clément d'Antibes, the fan who smuggles cockerels into football and rugby rounds, will be the star guest. After Zizou's cut-out, of course.
He is recognised as the finest player France has produced, eclipsing Michel Platini, and the world's best since Diego Maradona. But why? What makes Zinedine Zidane so special?
The answer, say the men who should know, is a rare blend of talent and attitude.
"He is is a great player for a variety of reasons, not least pride," said Johnny Giles, himself a high-class midfielder for Leeds United and the Republic of Ireland.
Giles added: "At 34, when you have won so much and earned so much, it is unusual to see a man putting himself on the line as Zidane is. Any old player will tell you that at 34 you still can produce a performance or two, but it is a hell of a lot harder than when you're 24.
"The most remarkable thing about him is that for such a tall man he has quite beautiful balance. This allows him to do the most amazing things in tight situations, always the mark of a great one.
"You can throw in most of the attributes of all-time greats: brilliant vision and tremendous technique, in both passing the ball, and going by defenders. But it is the pride that impresses me most. He wants to win, he wants to go out the right way."
That much has been clear from his demeanour and focus this tournament. Zidane himself has said: "You never get tired of winning. It doesn't matter whether I'm playing football, tennis, or any other competition."
He added: "You have to be naturally competitive at the top. The best players are self-motivated. You cannot teach people this. Titles are not everything. There's also the quality of the game, the play, the joy we can create. Yet a bad 1-0 is better than a nice 2-2."
Craig Brown, the former Scotland manager, noted: "He always seems to have time because his first touch is great. He uses his body brilliantly to screen the ball, he turns well, and he's never caught in a situation when he doesn't know what to do."
That first touch was honed in the Place Tartane amid the neglected public housing estates of Marseilles. Zidane and his friends would do tricks with the ball day after day, with Zidane the most diligent. But when he first went to Cannes - after the scout Jean Varraud told the club: "I have found a boy with hands in place of feet" - he ducked when a ball was thrown at his head. In Place Tartane there had been no heading. He later learned well enough to head two goals in a World Cup final.
Zidane moved on to Bordeaux where Gerry Francis tried to buy him for Tottenham, only to find a deal had already been struck with Juventus. Francis, who captained England from midfield, said yesterday: "Zidane always seems to have plenty of time. When the ball comes he knows exactly where everyone is, so he can play it first time, or let it run knowing no one is behind him.
"He's a bit of a stroller and he reminds me a little of Trevor Brooking. He's not the greatest tackler but he has two great feet, great vision, and in his younger days he was very mobile. He can create goals or score them, he can strike or curl the ball. If you give him the freedom of the pitch, like Brazil did, he can murder you. I'd expect Italy to man-mark him."
That, however, may create room for others, like Thierry Henry. "The whole squad benefits just from him being there," Henry said. "I see the game differently and play in another way when Zidane's in the side. The way he changes the pace of the game at will means that the rest of us are constantly finding ourselves with more space. He makes everything easier."
That said, Henry's matchwinner against Brazil was, incredibly, his first goal from a Zidane assist. This extraordinary fact has been examined for sinister implications, especially as Henry complained, in the wake of France's Euro 2004 débâcle, about the slowness of service from the midfield. One French tabloid asked then if the nation's twin stars disliked each other.
The truth is more prosaic. Henry's ego may be piqued by Zidane's status, the pair may disagree, on occasion, about the tactics France employ, but there is no bitter enmity. Henry is not a close friend, but few are. The French captain is a quiet man who wields huge influence but prefers to be on the fringe of dressing-room events. With Les Bleus he has usually had one or two close confidants, initially his old Bordeaux team-mate, Christophe Dugarry, now Willy Sagnol.
"He has an aura about him, you open the door and someone comes in, other players, you open the door and no one comes in," Brown said. "He can command without shouting the odds. The other players respect Henry's ability but they are not in awe of him the way they are with Zidane. It is great to have someone like that in a club, or team."
The final word comes from one of the new generation in the team. "Zizou is the man who shows us all how to play," said Florent Malouda. "He is our decisive player and our leader. When he plays well, the team plays well."
'He is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo'
By Glenn Moore
He adorns the wall, the menu and the staff. He even has a perch at the counter. The café Marcanne, a small corner of Berlin which has remained resolutely Gallic during this World Cup, illustrates just what Zinedine Zidane means to the French.
The house speciality is a Zizou salad. He is the main figure in many of the pictures ripped from the pages of L'Equipe and Libération and pasted on the walls. There is even a lifesize cardboard cut-out of him astride a scooter - named Zizou.
"Zidane," said the café's owner, Anne-Hadia Choukair, sporting a T-shirt with the great playmaker's visage on it, "is the man who began my love of football in 1998. I like the fact he is international. He is from an Algerian background - my own father was from Lebanon - but he is also French. Germans tend to know Germans, the French have friends from many backgrounds."
"He is a very important man but he lives a normal life, he is not artificial like Beckham or Ronaldo. Football needs people like Beckham, but humans need people like Zidane. Everyone would like to be his wife or brother."
This morning Anne and Marc Ortola, her husband, will host a party in which Clément d'Antibes, the fan who smuggles cockerels into football and rugby rounds, will be the star guest. After Zizou's cut-out, of course.
independant
all about the sunrise
so bright, so pretty.
in kenya
another in the Masai Mara
by the sea
sun kissed clouds
dawn of a new millenium
misty purpleyness
a view while fishing
orange skies in New Zealand
sitting by a harbour
a boat in California
dramatic, almost unnerving
those skies
i could just sit back and watch them
simple, but pleasing
mmmm
wow
early morning stillness
feels cooler
nice beach
ooh, lovely
a beautiful expanse, you can almost hear the waves.
just above the clouds
somewhere in Mexico
somewhere in Antarctica
somewhere in Namibia
orange surroundings
more orangeyness
orange skies over New York
makes you want to surf...
over the tops of trees
in kenya
another in the Masai Mara
by the sea
sun kissed clouds
dawn of a new millenium
misty purpleyness
a view while fishing
orange skies in New Zealand
sitting by a harbour
a boat in California
dramatic, almost unnerving
those skies
i could just sit back and watch them
simple, but pleasing
mmmm
wow
early morning stillness
feels cooler
nice beach
ooh, lovely
a beautiful expanse, you can almost hear the waves.
just above the clouds
somewhere in Mexico
somewhere in Antarctica
somewhere in Namibia
orange surroundings
more orangeyness
orange skies over New York
makes you want to surf...
over the tops of trees
Friday, July 07, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
what to do when you are totally freaking out over OSCE's*
... try not to panic.
ha.
*Objective Structured Clinical Examation. A terrifying exam of over 20, 7 minute stations, one straight after the other, covering all sorts of skills.
ha.
*Objective Structured Clinical Examation. A terrifying exam of over 20, 7 minute stations, one straight after the other, covering all sorts of skills.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
old school bikes
cycling old-school style
tricyle
proud
boy with his bike
they don't make 'em like they used to
indeed, they don't
nice
so many people took professional photographs of themselves and their bikes, makes you wonder what pictures we take now that will make people of the future smile.
oh, and a man with a horse.
and if you want more...
tricyle
proud
boy with his bike
they don't make 'em like they used to
indeed, they don't
nice
so many people took professional photographs of themselves and their bikes, makes you wonder what pictures we take now that will make people of the future smile.
oh, and a man with a horse.
and if you want more...
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Poem: Do not stand at my grave and weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
Mary Frye (1932)
(yes, I just watched the home and away episode of Flynn's funeral, and this is the poem his foster daughter Cassie read. and yes, i did shed a few tears. )
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
Mary Frye (1932)
(yes, I just watched the home and away episode of Flynn's funeral, and this is the poem his foster daughter Cassie read. and yes, i did shed a few tears. )
Saturday, June 10, 2006
pointless
male student nurse gets annoyed at having to have a chaperone to examine female patients, so takes the NHS to court.
obviously.
this could not be more ridiculous. the article gives the impression that he's annoyed about this because it was directed at him because he's a male student nurse. sex discrimination, and nursing being a female dominated profession and all.
he seems to be unaware that ANY male health practitionor, be they nurse, doctor, or whatever, and any male student, be they nursing or medical (yes, medical students too) have to have a chaperone when examinining a female patient.
although female health practitioners do not have to have a chaperone present, they are strongly advised to have one.
and anyway, as a student, you'll always have chaperone with you when you're doing something like an intimate examination, whether you're male or female. it's common sense. as a student, you never go solo.
this character is missing the point entirely. i just can't believe Mr Justice Patrick Elias missed it too.
obviously.
this could not be more ridiculous. the article gives the impression that he's annoyed about this because it was directed at him because he's a male student nurse. sex discrimination, and nursing being a female dominated profession and all.
he seems to be unaware that ANY male health practitionor, be they nurse, doctor, or whatever, and any male student, be they nursing or medical (yes, medical students too) have to have a chaperone when examinining a female patient.
although female health practitioners do not have to have a chaperone present, they are strongly advised to have one.
and anyway, as a student, you'll always have chaperone with you when you're doing something like an intimate examination, whether you're male or female. it's common sense. as a student, you never go solo.
this character is missing the point entirely. i just can't believe Mr Justice Patrick Elias missed it too.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Poem: An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above:
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love:
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
W.B. Yeats
an interpretation
some more interpretations
Somewhere among the clouds above:
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love:
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
W.B. Yeats
an interpretation
some more interpretations
Monday, June 05, 2006
random health news
yoga helps maintain basic physical mobility in cancer patients - i got the impression that it was the act of gentle group exercise made a difference.
need to convince someone - give 'em a cup of tea, or coke, or coffee... caffeine can leave a person 'more likely to agree with persuasive arguments'.
first beating heart transplant
3 armed boy to have limb removed in op
telling the world about AIDS
need to convince someone - give 'em a cup of tea, or coke, or coffee... caffeine can leave a person 'more likely to agree with persuasive arguments'.
first beating heart transplant
3 armed boy to have limb removed in op
telling the world about AIDS
Saturday, June 03, 2006
never forget to think
Randomly found on web, and thought was rather interesting. Reminded me of one of the consultants.
"The Best Teacher I Ever Had
Mr. Whitson taught sixth-grade science. On the first day of class, he gave us a lecture about a creature called the cattywampus, an ill-adapted nocturnal animal that was wiped out during the Ice Age. He passed around a skull as he talked. We all took notes and later had a quiz. When he returned my paper, I was shocked. There was a big red X through each of my answers. I had failed. There had to be some mistake! I had written down exactly what Mr. Whitson said. Then I realized that everyone in the class had failed. What had happened? Very simple, Mr. Whitson explained. He had made up all that stuff about the cattywampus. There had never been such an animal. The information in our notes was, therefore, incorrect. Did we expect credit for incorrect answers?Needless to say, we were outraged. What kind of test was this? And what kind of teacher? We should have figured it out, Mr. Whitson said. After all, at the very moment he was passing around the Cattywampus skull (in truth, a cat's), hadn't he been telling us that no trace of the animal remained? He had described its amazing night vision, the color of its fur and any number of other facts he couldn't have known. He had given the animal a ridiculous name, and we still hadn't been suspicious. The zeroes on our papers would be recorded in his grade book, he said. And they were. Mr. Whitson said he hoped we would learn something from this experience. Teachers and textbooks are not infallible. In fact, no one is. He told us not to let our minds go to sleep, and to speak up if we ever thought he or the textbook was wrong. Every class was an adventure with Mr. Whitson. I can still remember some science periods almost from beginning to end. One day he told us that his Volkswagen was a living organism. It took us two full days to put together a refutation he would accept. He didn't let us off the hook until we had proved not only that we knew what an organism was but also that we had the fortitude to stand up for the truth. We carried our brand-new skepticism into all our classes. This caused problems for the other teachers, who weren't used to being challenged. Our history teacher would be lecturing about something, and then there would be clearings of the throat and someone would say "Cattywampus."
If I'm ever asked to propose a solution to the crisis in our schools, it will be Mr. Whitson. I haven't made any great scientific discoveries, but Mr. Whitson's class gave me and my classmates something just as important: the courage to look people in the eye and tell them they are wrong. He also showed us that you can have fun doing it. Not everyone sees the value in this. I once told an elementary schoolteacher about Mr. Whitson. The teacher was appalled. "He shouldn't have tricked you like that," he said. I looked at the teacher right in the eye and told him he was wrong. "
(By David Owen, published in Life, October '90)
"The Best Teacher I Ever Had
Mr. Whitson taught sixth-grade science. On the first day of class, he gave us a lecture about a creature called the cattywampus, an ill-adapted nocturnal animal that was wiped out during the Ice Age. He passed around a skull as he talked. We all took notes and later had a quiz. When he returned my paper, I was shocked. There was a big red X through each of my answers. I had failed. There had to be some mistake! I had written down exactly what Mr. Whitson said. Then I realized that everyone in the class had failed. What had happened? Very simple, Mr. Whitson explained. He had made up all that stuff about the cattywampus. There had never been such an animal. The information in our notes was, therefore, incorrect. Did we expect credit for incorrect answers?Needless to say, we were outraged. What kind of test was this? And what kind of teacher? We should have figured it out, Mr. Whitson said. After all, at the very moment he was passing around the Cattywampus skull (in truth, a cat's), hadn't he been telling us that no trace of the animal remained? He had described its amazing night vision, the color of its fur and any number of other facts he couldn't have known. He had given the animal a ridiculous name, and we still hadn't been suspicious. The zeroes on our papers would be recorded in his grade book, he said. And they were. Mr. Whitson said he hoped we would learn something from this experience. Teachers and textbooks are not infallible. In fact, no one is. He told us not to let our minds go to sleep, and to speak up if we ever thought he or the textbook was wrong. Every class was an adventure with Mr. Whitson. I can still remember some science periods almost from beginning to end. One day he told us that his Volkswagen was a living organism. It took us two full days to put together a refutation he would accept. He didn't let us off the hook until we had proved not only that we knew what an organism was but also that we had the fortitude to stand up for the truth. We carried our brand-new skepticism into all our classes. This caused problems for the other teachers, who weren't used to being challenged. Our history teacher would be lecturing about something, and then there would be clearings of the throat and someone would say "Cattywampus."
If I'm ever asked to propose a solution to the crisis in our schools, it will be Mr. Whitson. I haven't made any great scientific discoveries, but Mr. Whitson's class gave me and my classmates something just as important: the courage to look people in the eye and tell them they are wrong. He also showed us that you can have fun doing it. Not everyone sees the value in this. I once told an elementary schoolteacher about Mr. Whitson. The teacher was appalled. "He shouldn't have tricked you like that," he said. I looked at the teacher right in the eye and told him he was wrong. "
(By David Owen, published in Life, October '90)
Friday, June 02, 2006
they look so pretty under the microscope...
medicines...
a mild pain killer, and another
fibrinolysis inhibitor
antibiotic - amoxicillin
anti-fungal - amphotericin
antibiotic - ampicillin
aspirin
atropine
AZT
benzoyl peroxide
caffeine
antibiotic - chloramphenicol
anti-coagulant - clopidogrel, reminds me of a peacock/phoenix
immunosuppressive - cyclosporin, like a strange rainbow
calcium channel blocker - cardizem, nifedipine
anti-fungal - miconazole
anti-arrhythmic - quinidine
protropin - human growth hormone
carafate - used to treat ulcers, almost like an abstract stained glass window
and more
a mild pain killer, and another
fibrinolysis inhibitor
antibiotic - amoxicillin
anti-fungal - amphotericin
antibiotic - ampicillin
aspirin
atropine
AZT
benzoyl peroxide
caffeine
antibiotic - chloramphenicol
anti-coagulant - clopidogrel, reminds me of a peacock/phoenix
immunosuppressive - cyclosporin, like a strange rainbow
calcium channel blocker - cardizem, nifedipine
anti-fungal - miconazole
anti-arrhythmic - quinidine
protropin - human growth hormone
carafate - used to treat ulcers, almost like an abstract stained glass window
and more
Thursday, June 01, 2006
necessity
Surgeon gave his own blood as heart boy lay dying on table.
there is much to smile about in this ol' world.
there is much to smile about in this ol' world.
just when i need some motivation...
i found this, this and this.
great.
and if you're in the mood for more tongue-in-cheek depressiveness... you have been warned.
great.
and if you're in the mood for more tongue-in-cheek depressiveness... you have been warned.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
get creating people!
from tomorrow, and for 30 days. Sounds like a rather good idea, avoiding the creative procrastination process. however, i shall unfortunately have to excuse myself from the daily fun due to upcoming exams. ah well, another time for me perhaps...
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
you thought it was all over...
... when you swallowed that bubble gum. well, it can be seen on a CT scan, sitting there, in the stomach.
you've got to hand it to the volunteer who agreed to swallow bubble gum and get a CT to confirm what was found in the kids.
Pediatr Radiol. 1992;22(4):298-9.
Bubble gum simulating abdominal calcifications.
Geller E, Smergel EM.
Department of Radiology, St. Christopher's Hospital for Children, Philadelphia, PA.
CT examination of the abdomens of two children demonstrated sites of high attenuation in the stomach, which were revealed to be bubble gum. Investigation of the CT appearance of samples of chewing gum showed that it consistently has high attenuation (178-345 HU). The attenuation of gum base, which contains calcium carbonate, was 476 HU. In addition, examination of a volunteer who had swallowed bubble gum confirmed the CT appearance.
you've got to hand it to the volunteer who agreed to swallow bubble gum and get a CT to confirm what was found in the kids.
Pediatr Radiol. 1992;22(4):298-9.
Bubble gum simulating abdominal calcifications.
Geller E, Smergel EM.
Department of Radiology, St. Christopher's Hospital for Children, Philadelphia, PA.
CT examination of the abdomens of two children demonstrated sites of high attenuation in the stomach, which were revealed to be bubble gum. Investigation of the CT appearance of samples of chewing gum showed that it consistently has high attenuation (178-345 HU). The attenuation of gum base, which contains calcium carbonate, was 476 HU. In addition, examination of a volunteer who had swallowed bubble gum confirmed the CT appearance.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
the art of self-diagnosis
medical students have been doing it for years, often inaccurately, thus providing many an anecdote to giggle about.
however, with the increasing availability of information (which in some ways is a good thing), the general public have also gotten on the self-diagnosis bandwagon.
there are good sites, there are bad sites, and there are unbelievebly awful-evil-money-grabbing sites. it can sometimes be difficult for the untrained eye to tell them apart. plus, there is always that personal bias which comes attached to self-diagnosis : 'knowing my luck, its got to be the worst possible thing that could possibly happen. oh dear...'.
take everything with a tonne of salt, have a dialogue with your doctor, and use information responsibly.
however, with the increasing availability of information (which in some ways is a good thing), the general public have also gotten on the self-diagnosis bandwagon.
there are good sites, there are bad sites, and there are unbelievebly awful-evil-money-grabbing sites. it can sometimes be difficult for the untrained eye to tell them apart. plus, there is always that personal bias which comes attached to self-diagnosis : 'knowing my luck, its got to be the worst possible thing that could possibly happen. oh dear...'.
take everything with a tonne of salt, have a dialogue with your doctor, and use information responsibly.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Sunday, May 21, 2006
'be nice to nettles week' amongst other things
as exams and deadlines approach, things get more hectic, and posts may begin to reduce in frequency... but in the mean time, a round up of randomness:
long term effects of childhood deprivation- a sobering read.
why medical dramas are not so accurate
'be nice to nettles week'
honey in wound management
proper posture
'How to Conduct a Physical Exam on an Assaultive Patient'
long term effects of childhood deprivation- a sobering read.
why medical dramas are not so accurate
'be nice to nettles week'
honey in wound management
proper posture
'How to Conduct a Physical Exam on an Assaultive Patient'
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Kiwi gets prosthetic leg
Tahi, the flightless Kiwi bird, loses leg in a trap. flightless, and now a leg down, mobility is proving to be a bit of issue. humans take pity, so get in touch with the local artificial limb board and a special effects company who usually sort out false noses for humans in films such as 'lord of the rings', to sort Tahi out a false leg. leg gets fitted and made, he then hobbles off into the sunset...
BBC
BBC
Saturday, May 13, 2006
How far cooking has come...
Some wartime recipes - note the lack of meat in 'mock goose' and 'mock sausages'. Oh, and grilled pigeon!!!
Friday, May 12, 2006
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Poem: If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
Rudyard Kipling
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
Rudyard Kipling
Friday, May 05, 2006
tainted blood...
something everyone should know - article in the observer
Left to die: the hidden victims of an NHS blunder
In 1991 The Observer revealed the scandal of patients infected by HIV as a result of the contamination of Health Service blood. Now, beset by illness and poverty, they are launching a final battle for justice. Lorna Martin reports
On a cold December morning in 1986, Gary Kelly woke with the worst hangover of his life. The previous afternoon he had practically skipped into Glasgow Royal Infirmary for a routine check-up, feeling healthier, more energetic and more indebted to the NHS than he could ever have imagined possible. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.
Back then the prognosis for people with leukaemia, which he had been diagnosed with the previous year, was not good. Bone marrow transplants were in their infancy. But chemotherapy and a transplant from his sister seemed to conquer this aggressive blood cancer.
'When I was told I had leukaemia I just assumed I was going to die,' he recalled. 'I knew of people who'd had it and they had all died. So when it looked as if the transplant had worked, I felt I'd been given a second chance. Because I'd come so close to death I realised how precious life is. I was cherishing every moment.'
Gary, then 23, had been cured of leukaemia against all the odds. But that December afternoon his consultant delivered devastating news. During his operation he had been given a contaminated blood transfusion. He had contracted HIV, a virus which destroys the body's immune system and for which there is no cure.
There was a long silence. 'If you want to cry, it's OK,' his father, sitting with him, said. Gary did, and so did his dad.
HIV and Aids were little understood in the mid-Eighties and they were surrounded by a huge stigma. Many people thought the viruses affected only gay men and drug addicts. Gary was neither.
'One minute I was feeling elated about being cured of leukaemia, thinking I had my whole life ahead of me again. The next I was told I was HIV-positive and my world came crashing down. I was too ashamed to tell anyone. I asked my dad, who'd come with me to the hospital, not to tell anyone and I went to the pub on my own and drank until I passed out,' he said.
Although he felt isolated that night, he soon discovered he was not the only victim of what has since been described as the worst treatment disaster in the history of the NHS. Thousands of people in the UK received blood contaminated with potentially deadly viruses during the late Seventies and Eighties. Much of it was imported from the United States.
Although doctors first became aware of a possible link between Aids and blood transfusions in December 1982, it took another four years before safer, heat-treated products reached Britain.
Most of those infected with HIV in that way in this country were men suffering from haemophilia, a genetically acquired disease in which the blood does not clot properly. To treat the condition they took products known as Factor VIII and Factor IX concentrates, which were made by distilling and concentrating the plasma of large groups of donors, sometimes as many as 25,000.
It was a cruel irony that for thousands of haemophiliacs across the world, the same 'miracle substance' they were being given to prolong their lives also handed them a sentence of prolonged illness and probable death. The vast majority have now succumbed to the disease.
Following a public outcry and on the recommendation of a High Court judge, the UK government announced plans in 1988 to compensate the 1,200 haemophiliacs who had been infected with the life-threatening viruses. It was a hollow victory and excluded people such as Gary.
He became one of the forgotten NHS Aids victims, one of an estimated 150 non-haemophiliacs in the UK who became HIV-positive as a result of receiving tainted blood but whom the Department of Health refused to help. Fifteen years ago The Observer launched a campaign to highlight their plight. Virginia Bottomley, then Health Secretary, initially rejected the demands for justice, despite protests from MPs of all parties.
There were 'special and tragic circumstances' surrounding the haemophiliacs' cases, she repeatedly stated, mentioning their 'double disadvantage' of hereditary illness and HIV. She said no comparison could be made between them and the scores of children, pregnant women, accident victims and cancer patients such as Gary who had been infected from blood transfusions during surgery.
'It was never explained to us why the hereditary nature of the illness made a difference,' Gary said. 'We all became HIV-positive or contracted Hepatitis C because we were given contaminated blood by the NHS. They spoke about it opening the floodgates. They hoped we would be silenced and go away. But the Observer campaign gathered so much momentum, public and political pressure intensified, and the government had to do something. The injustice was so glaring.'
As a result of the campaign, the government eventually relented and extended its compensation scheme. The Eileen Trust, which provided one-off payments, plus small monthly sums, was established in 1992. The creation of these trusts was a first for the NHS, the only time in its history that it made an exception to the principle that it does not pay compensation without legal liability first being proved.
The rationale for this exception was linked to a presumption at the time that HIV would inevitably and swiftly progress to death. In addition, while no one was prepared to accept responsibility, it was nevertheless becoming increasingly difficult for ministers not to concede that a horrendous mistake had been made. In government-speak, 'an unavoidable inadvertent systematic failure' had occurred.
Victims were subjected to significant social problems. Many were treated as lepers. They had their doors daubed with graffiti, they lost their jobs and their children were not allowed to mix with other pupils at school. They were denied the opportunity to have normal relationships. To compensate, they were awarded an average one-off payment of £45,000, plus a monthly allowance of about £300.
Faced with an impossible situation, the victims were urged, some say coerced, into accepting the money from the government. They were advised against continuing to fight through the courts, as this would have taken years. Time had become their most precious commodity, and one they were told they suddenly had very little of.
So in June 1992, six years after he received the contaminated blood, Gary accepted a cheque for £43,500. In return, all the victims signed to waive their right to pursue any future legal action against the government. At the time, people with HIV were expected to live between three and five years. Suing anyone or worrying about their future security were the last things on their minds.
Not surprisingly, Gary spent his small windfall somewhat recklessly, booking a three-week holiday in America, even though his HIV status was supposed to prevent him from entering the country, and repaying some debts. 'Like many others I decided to go out with a bang. We were told we didn't have long. I spent two weeks at a blues festival in Chicago, something I'd wanted to do all my life, and another week in New York. I tried not to get down because I thought each day might be my last. I wanted to enjoy what little time I had left.'
For successive governments, drugs companies, some doctors and the blood transfusion services, this story would ideally end here and be remembered as a tragic medical mistake in which no one acted wrongly in the light of the only facts then known. Yet for some victims the problems had only just begun.
For most of those infected with tainted blood, the predictions of an early death proved correct. Of about 1,200 haemophiliacs infected, more than 800 have now died from Aids or hepatitis-related illnesses. Around 380 are still alive, along with around 20 non-haemophiliacs. With their one-off payments long gone, their health deteriorating, crippling side-effects from the powerful drugs that keep the virus at bay and their opportunities to work virtually non-existent, many rely on state benefits and exist in acute poverty.
Gary is one of them. Twenty years on from his transplant and the transfusion that saved him from one life-threatening illness and infected him with another, he sits in his basic, one-bedroom flat in Glasgow, surrounded by his Bob Dylan albums, his guitar and mandolin.
'Living longer than we ever expected has been both a blessing and a curse,' he said. 'Initially, you try to get your head around the fact that you're going to die. Then it doesn't happen, but because you think every day might be your last it's difficult to plan any kind of future. I got very depressed, and I know many people who either killed themselves or drank themselves to death as their quality of life was poor. I have been unable to form a relationship and most of the survivors are in pretty dire financial straits.'
The virus has taken its toll. His once fit body is withering away. He has had numerous bouts of pneumonia, his pancreas was badly damaged by the drugs he was taking, and he has to wear a permanent cast on his foot to limit bone deterioration.
He hands me a recent newspaper cutting reporting the case of Alan Best, 64, from Birmingham, who contracted HIV from a contaminated transfusion during surgery for pancreatitis at the private Nuffield Hospital in his home city in February 1995. Last year, after a seven-year legal battle, he was awarded £750,000.
Gary said: 'We were persuaded to accept one-off payments ranging from £21,000 to £80,000, depending on whether we had dependants, because there was an assumption that we were facing imminent death.' Because all the victims signed the waiver preventing further legal action, they have very limited options for the future, apart from asking the government for more money.
At the end of last year a detailed case was presented to the Department of Health, requesting a rise in the annual support available to the remaining victims from £3m to £7m per year and another one-off payment. A spokeswoman said the application had been received and was being considered.
Most survivors are not overly optimistic. Haydn Lewis is one of them. As a teenager in Wales he refused to be constrained by his haemophilia. At 18, he married his childhood sweetheart, Gaynor. In 1979, at 22, he began using 'the miracle' Factor VIII concentrate, expecting it to make his disease more manageable. The blood was contaminated.
Six years later, with two young sons, he was diagnosed as HIV-positive. He discovered a short time later that his wife Gaynor had contracted HIV from him. He had also been infected with hepatitis C which, in many ways, has even more serious consequences.
About 5,000 haemophiliacs contracted the potentially fatal liver disease from contaminated blood, as did an estimated 20,000 non-haemophiliacs.
Haydn and Gaynor had to give up careers with substantial incomes to live on disability allowances. Haydn, now 49, is incensed at the government's repeated refusal to hold an independent inquiry into the affair.
'It is beyond belief that the deaths of over 1,000 members of the British public can pass with no explanation given by the public bodies responsible for their care,' he said. 'We need this not to embarrass or point the finger of blame, but simply to find out what happened and to make sure a tragedy of this scale will never be allowed to happen again.'
It was insulting to those infected to have 'to beg' for elementary justice, Haydn said. 'We are living under a death sentence for the mistake of having trusted in the cleanliness of NHS blood and blood products. We have suffered in the worst way possible, not only financially but by losing our livelihood and our ability to lead a meaningful life. We have all lost friends who did not survive this terrible medical and scientific blunder.'
In desperation, Haydn and Gaynor are among a number of UK survivors hoping to sue four major US companies in the American courts, alleging negligence and fraud over the making and distribution of blood products used by haemophiliacs. If the UK government insists it is not responsible, he said, then it should do the decent thing and take the blood companies to court on the victims' behalf.
The US lawsuit alleges that the four companies sold blood products contaminated with HIV and/or hepatitis C, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people with haemophilia worldwide.
The action claims three of the firms recruited and paid donors from high-risk groups, including prisoners, intravenous drug users and blood centres with mainly homosexual donors, to obtain plasma used in Factors VIII and IX. It alleges that between July 1982, when evidence surfaced that people with haemophilia had died from Aids, and 1985 the firms acted in concert to avoid recalling the products or warning of the risks. Haydn said the American battle was a last resort, as the UK remained the only country which had consistently refused to hold an inquiry into the affair.
In the past 17 years, he has attended more than 150 funerals for fellow haemophiliacs who received the tainted blood. His brother, a haemophiliac too, also suffers from HIV contracted through bad blood products. Worst of all is the fact that Gaynor has been infected.
'I want an explanation. I want to be able to tell my sons and my wife how this happened and why it happened and who was responsible.'
Yet in some ways Haydn and Gaynor are among the luckier ones, because they still have each other. Most haemophiliacs given tainted blood have died, leaving angry and penniless widows. And among those infected as children, most remain isolated and alone.
Andrew Evans, a fellow haemophiliac, was five when he was infected with HIV and hepatitis C. His parents told him what had happened when he was 13. At 16 he was diagnosed with Aids and spent the next four years in and out of hospital. At one point he was told he had two weeks to live.
However, new treatments became available and helped him on the road to a partial physical recovery. He is now 29 and living alone in supported accommodation in Moseley, Birmingham.
'Emotionally the toll the virus takes can be enormous,' he said. 'The social aspect starts even before the symptoms show - the relationship difficulties around how to tell people and how they react when you do, and the stigma. These are all very difficult to cope with. And when the symptoms begin to take your life apart, it is difficult to recover. There is a feeling of isolation. Many people become virtual recluses, including me.'
Andrew spends much of his time working with the Haemophilia Society and the Macfarlane Trust, and has been helping with the court case.
'We are victims of NHS errors and in addition to living with life-threatening, debilitating illnesses, most of those who have not died are living in acute poverty. The capital payments [£21,000 in his case] have long since been spent, often on the advice of medical consultants on the basis of likely imminent death. We live on benefits and a trickle of money from the fund. It is demeaning that someone who, for instance, might need a new bed has to beg for money to buy it.'
Like many of those affected, Andrew has found it difficult to form a relationship. After he told his first love about his infection, she left him. That brought home the stigma, he said, and it took years for him to recover from this rejection. He met another woman but three months before they were to marry she died from Aids. He doesn't feel strong enough to seek another relationship.
British victims point to the way other countries have helped their sufferers. Canada held a £1.24m investigation lasting five years into its tainted blood scandal. It concluded this 'national public health disaster' was caused by systematic failure, a blood service that recoiled from its responsibility and governments that showed no leadership. The victims were given an apology and 'set up for life' with average awards of £750,000.
Last February a trial alleging criminal negligence causing bodily harm and endangering the public began in Toronto against a pharmaceutical company and the Canadian Red Cross.
Margaret Unwin, head of the UK Haemophilia Society, said this was being closely watched. 'The UK is the only country that has not been open and honest about this,' she said. 'There has never been an apology. Many people say that's all they want. The government has continued to refuse any legal responsibility or grant an independent public inquiry. The financial hardship is difficult, and these people desperately need more support. But more than that, they need truth and justice and for someone to say sorry.'
No one expected, two decades on, that there would be any survivors of one of the greatest medical disasters in NHS history. Nor did its victims expect still to be waiting for the government to explain the 'inadvertent systematic failure' that caused this tragedy.
How could deadly tainted blood get into a system that was supposed to save lives? Gary Kelly, Haydn and Gaynor Lewis and Andrew Evans are not the only ones who think the wider public deserves an answer to that question.
Contamination timeline
1966 First blood clotting products for haemophiliacs are produced.
1970 Four US-based pharmaceutical companies to distribute Factor VIII and Factor IX around the world.
1975 World Health Organisation resolution states each country should be able to supply blood and blood products.
1978 A test to determine a history of viral hepatitis in blood donors is developed.
1981 The US Centre for Disease Control and Prevention organises a task force in response to a disease later called acquired immunodeficiency syndrome, shortened to Aids.
1982 Several haemophiliacs contract Aids in America. In the UK worries grow over the safety of imported commercial blood products from the US.
1983 First haemophiliac in the UK dies from Aids.
1988 UK reveals it is relying on American imports of blood products.
1988 The government agrees funding for the Macfarlane Trust charity to assist haemophiliacs who contracted HIV from contaminated blood products.
1991 The Observer campaigns to extend compensation scheme to non-haemophiliacs affected similarly.
1992 A multi-million pound compensation package for infected nonhaemophiliacs is announced.
2004 Patients infected with hepatitis C from contaminated blood to receive at least £20,000.
2006 Trustees of the Macfarlane and Eileen Trusts urge the government to increase financial support to those patients still alive.
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