Gruts

They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but my parents' dog, Ellie, who is getting on a bit, recently learnt how to tell the time. It would appear that the maxim holds true, however, because Ellie wasn't taught how to tell the time, she somehow worked it out for herself.

Ever since Ellie was a puppy, my parents have fed her in the late afternoon, so she soon got into the habit of standing by her bowl with a poor-starving-dog look on her face. She would start at around 2pm, just in case my parents were feeling generous. But, about six months ago, my parents noticed that Ellie had started going to stand by her bowl at exactly the same time every day: 4:35pm. That's not 4:35pm, give or take a couple of minutes, you understand; that's 4:35pm on the dot—you could set your watch by her, apparently.

My parents have no idea how Ellie could know the time to such precision. They have a grandfather clock which chimes on the hour, but Ellie doesn't go to her bowl on the hour; she goes at twenty-five to the hour. They think it's very amusing.

I visited my parents yesterday evening and asked them how Ellie's time-keeping trick had fared last weekend, when the clocks went back. It didn't make a jot of difference, apparently: there she was, standing at her bowl at 4:35pm on Sunday afternoon, looking as hungry as ever.

I reckon Ellie must be the only dog in the world who automatically adjusts for daylight-saving hours.

Church Street, Liverpool, yesterday lunchtime:

Woman with clipboard: Sir! Sir! Sorry to bother you: I'm just condicting a quick survey. Can you tell me if you've been abroad at all in the last six months?
Me: No, I've always been a guy.
Woman with clipboard: …?

The UK government introduced British citizenship tests for would-be immigrants this week.

If would-be immigrants are anything like other people preparing for important tests (and why shouldn't they be?), they will now, no doubt, be scouring the internet for some handy hints.

Well, look no further, my friends, your search is over! Here are some sample questions and answers I have prepared to help you pass the new tests:

• Coffee?
  The correct answer is "I don't suppose I could trouble you for a cup of tea, could I, old chap? White, no sugar." [Note: When offered tea, the correct response is "Don't mind if I do".]
• Would you like a biscuit with that?
  Careful, this is a cunning, psychometric test! There is a distinct British nibbling order when it comes to biscuits. It goes as follows (in descending order): Chocolate HobNobs, Bourbons, Custard Creams, Jammy Dodgers, ordinary HobNobs, Rich Tea. You should freely stuff your face when offered a selection of biscuits, always taking the most highly rated in the nibbling order—but ON NO ACCOUNT should you take the last-remaining biscuit on the plate (an action which would immediately identify you as a Johnny Foreigner, and not the sort of chap we're looking for).
• Do you think it's going to rain?
  If you can make your answer last longer than 20 minutes, without deviating from the general theme of the awfulness of the British weather, you can stop panicking now: you're in!
• What is your religion?
  The correct True-Brit response is "Erm… C of E, I think".
• Are you a terrorist?
  This is a trick question. Even if you are a terrorist, you should answer "No"—the security services are pretty on-the-ball these days.
• What is the difference between being British and being English?
  Another trick question: the two words are freely interchangeable.
• When did you last cry?
  Yet another trick question (how very un-British!): True Brits never show any emotion, apart from at international soccer matches and Last Night at the Proms. You should state in an indignant-yet-somehow-emotionless way that you have never cried in your life, that you "always maintain a stiff upper lip", and that you "keep your pecker up". (WARNING: It is vitally important that you do not confuse these two phrases.) If pushed, however, you should admit that you "blubbed like an hysterical schoolgirl" when you heard the news about Diana.
• What is a googly?
  As everyone knows, "a googly is an off-break bowled with an apparent leg-break action". If asked to explain what this means, you should admit that you "haven't the foggiest idea".
• Who said, "xxx"?
  If the quotation is pugnacious, defiant or droll, you should answer "Winston Churchill"; if it is incomprehensible or something you thought was just a tired, old cliché, you should answer "Shakespeare".
• Who invented xxx?
  The answer they are looking for is "The British!"—even if it is (no pun intended) patently untrue. If they push you for a name, you should reply, "That Scotsman: Whatsisname?" Don't worry, they won't know either.
• Who won the Second World War?
  Again, they are looking for the answer "The British!" (or, for two extra points, "We did!"). It is then customary to give grudging recognition that we might have had "a little help from the Yanks"—provided you go on to observe that they were "two years late, as usual". On no account should you give any credit to the Russians.
• Who would you say is to blame for xxx?
  A tricky one this: there are two possible answers, and it is impossible to tell which one they are looking for. As a general rule, you should answer "Brussels". If they look surprised, you should explain, "Well, when I say Brussels, I mean the French—but it's the same thing really, let's face it".
• How many languages can you speak?
  The correct answer is "One".
• Who is your favourite actress?
  There are three equally acceptable answers: "the lovely Kate Winslet", "Kristin Scott Thomas", or "Dame Judi". Don't mention Julia Roberts, Renée Zelwegger, or Nicole Kidman unless you want a slap.
• What would you say is Britain's greatest contribution to the world?
  You're on the home straight now: they always like to finish with an easy one. The correct answer is, of course, "Civilisation".

The very best of British to you!

This evening, Great Britain and a number of her former colonies will celebrate the 400th anniversary of a failed attempt by a bunch of religious extremists to detonate a huge bomb in the centre of London. It's good to see that the world has moved on in the last four centuries.

The plotters of 1605 believed (with more than a little justification) that their religion was being oppressed by the state. The most practical solution they could come up with was to blow up the head of state by planting the mother of all bombs beneath the mother of all parliaments. The plot failed, and Catholic emancipation was put on hold for the next 200 years.

But we live in more enlightened times, and we Brits are a forgiving lot: in a recent poll, we voted the man chosen to detonate the bomb to be the 30th greatest Briton of all time (coming a whole ten places above the man who started the religious oppression in the first place).

Guy Fawkes was hanged, drawn, and quartered for his sins, but we are more enlightened than our forebears: we condemn religious fundamentalism in all its forms, and crusade against terrorism in foreign lands, while burning effigies of the man 400 years after the event.

Overheard at my friend Mary's 79th birthday party last night:

"Have you still got four pairs of glasses, Mary?"
"Six!"
"Why? Who else has died?"

BBC: Camilla samples organic delights

You will, Richard, you will.

Finally, a science pun as bad as my Einstein Joke:

Kieran Healy (Crooked Timber): Kansas

The Kansas Board of Education has approved new standards that mandate the teaching of 'Intelligent Design' (which I’ve always thought should be called Paleyontology)…

Very clever. Very clever indeed.

Unlike the Kansas Board of Education.

BBC: Blair defeated over terror laws

Tony Blair says his authority is intact despite suffering his first House of Commons defeat as prime minister.

Does anybody else find this as scary as I do?

8½ years since he was elected, and this is the first time that Tony Blair has been defeated in the Commons. I thought only dictators had that sort of voting record. I thought we were supposed to be living in a quasi-democracy!

BBC: 'Speaking Clock' Pat Simmons dies

The second voice of the Speaking Clock, Pat Simmons, has died aged 85.

Miss Simmons, whose recorded voice announced the time on the BT service from 1963 until 1985, died at the Royal London Hospital in East London.

Rumours that she died after her third stroke are, rather disappointingly, unfounded.

I have a very soft spot for Miss Simmons. As a child, I used to speak with her on the phone every Saturday afternoon. That was in the days when phones still had dials, and were still referred to as telephones. I would call her on my grandmother's phone (Eastham 1663) to check the time while I was winding up my grandmother's grandfather clock. We didn't have a phone of our own, so making that weekly call was a real treat. I thought the lady who you telephoned to find out the time must have the most boring job in the whole world. I would try to break the monotony for her by asking how she was, and what she was going to have for her tea. Not that Miss Simmons ever deviated from her script, you understand: she was far too professional for that.

At 11 o'clock precisely on my 20th birthday, British Telecom replaced Miss Simmons with a plummy man who slipped in advertisements for Accurist between the pips. I'm sure Miss Simmons of all people would appreciate that times change, but, ever since that day, I have steadfastly refused to dial those magic numbers, 1-2-3: it just wouldn't be the same.

Jen's nephew set off a year-long, round-the-world trip last week. This evening, we received our first email. He's in India, and has already landed himself a movie part: western tourist no. 3.

Next stop, Hollywood.

Mum: Sorry about the new loo paper.
Dad: Why? What's wrong with it?
Mum: It's not the usual stuff. It's rubbish. It is by Dulux, though.
Dad: Dulux?
Mum: I don't mean Dulux; I mean Andrex.

Careful, mum: you don't want to paint over the cracks.

email to Stense:

S T E N S E !

Do you ever watch Taggart? What am I talking about? With your TV connections, you're probably on Christmas-card terms with half the cast and crew.

I don't watch Taggart. Not really. Jen watches it as a no-brainer way of unwinding at the end of a busy week. So it's on in the room while I'm there, but I'm not really watching it; I'm usually playing on my computer exercising my mind a bit more constructively.

Occasionally, however, little snippets of Taggart slip through my firewall and into my consciousness. Like, last week, it turned out that the motive of the person murdering all these poor women was to prove that his convicted murderer son was innocent. The logic was, if murders with the same modus operandi continued to be committed after the son had been locked up, the police would have to accept that they had put away the wrong man. Totally bonkers or what? I'm glad I don't live in Glasgow, with psychopaths like that walking the streets. Or is it Edinburgh? Same difference.

Anyhow, the other thing I noticed about Taggart last week was a totally fantastic line, delivered in a deep, Scotch accent. It was just perfect. It went as follows:

"THAS BIN A MUHRRR-DUHRRR!"

Bloody brilliant! For a moment, I wondered if it was intended as a tribute to the recent Lord of the Rings film trilogy, where Gandalf the Gay and Co. insisted on referring to the Land of Mordor (where the Shadows lie) as "MOHRRR-DOHRRR!", but then I realised, no, that's just how they speak up in Scotland: "THAS BIN A MUHRRR-DUHRRRR!" Magic mustard! You don't get much better lines than that, do you?

So, anyway, Stense, it then occurred to me that you are a bit of a Scotch TV directrix in your spare time. Who knows, some day soon, you might find yourself directing a scene in which a murder is announced. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to make sure that whoever makes the announcement does so with the following classic line:

"THAS BIN A MUHRRR-DUHRRRR!"

…but here's the subtle twist: the person delivering the line has to be holding a banana carrot as they do so. A bottle of finest malt whisky and a vegetarian haggis to you, should you complete the challenge within five years of this date.

What do you say? Are you up for it? More to the point, do you accept the challenge?

Go for it, mate!

Ri xx

P.S. So that there is a formal record of my challenge, I am going to post a copy of this email on my website. Don't worry, though, I'll edit out the joke about your rash.

On a technical note, as of this morning, the Gruts website offers a small number of RSS feeds.

If you don't know what an RSS feed is, I wouldn't worry about it too much: they're pretty nerdy—but they're pretty cool as well.

National Geographic: Aussie Cats to be Kept Indoors, New Rules Propose

…The new law, currently being debated by the capital's Legislative Assembly, would require all house cats in the soon-to-be-built Canberra suburbs of Forde and Bonner to stay indoors or in fenced backyards.

Cat owners moving into the new suburbs would need to have their pets implanted with microchip identification tags. If the animals are found outside the fences, owners would face up to a thousand Australian dollars in fines.

That's the way to do it.

Letter to New Scientist:

Sir,

To cite the fact that humans and mice have roughly the same number of genes as evidence that "the number of genes does not correlate with an organism's complexity" [The Word, 19-Nov-05] is to cast a terrible slur on our rodent cousins. We might be more intelligent than mice, but why should intelligence be the prime measure of complexity? There are dozens of species of mouse, which have evolved all manner of complex lifestyles. By comparison, our single-species human monoculture seems decidedly primitive.

Richard Carter

Hebden Bridge Times:

Global warming has been blamed for the dramatic drop in entries at Mytholmroyd Chrysanthemum Show.

The unseasonal weather wiped out the entire maiden section and reduced entries by 50 per cent at the 73rd annual show held in St Michael's Parish Church Hall at the weekend.

Literary Review: The World's Most Famous Failure

[Scott of the Antarctic's] Message to the Public was an exemplar of national grit. "Had we lived," he wrote, "I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman." He kept it up until the famous last line: "It seems a pity but I do not think I can write any more"…

The whole script can be found in the latest edition of Scott's diary published by OUP, Journals: Captain Scott's Last Expedition. Ably introduced and edited by Max Jones, this is the full, unexpurgated thing. Scott, it seems, made a lot of rude comments about his companions that were suppressed when the diary was first published in 1913. At the same time, editors augmented his suffering by the rather transparent ploy of changing plus temperatures to minus.

Compare and contrast:

Gruts: Beauty is in the eye of the beer-holder (10-Mar-05)

BBC: 'Beer goggles' effect explained (25-Nov-05)

Scientists believe they have worked out a formula to calculate how "beer goggles" affect a drinker's vision…

Researchers at Manchester University say while beauty is in the eye of the beer-holder, the amount of alcohol consumed is not the only factor.

BBC: Austrians refuse bail for Irving

Austrian authorities have refused bail for British historian David Irving, who is facing Holocaust denial charges.

Mr Irving, 67, was arrested on 11 November in connection with two speeches he gave in Austria in 1989.

Erm, no, I think you'll find that simply isn't the case: David Irving never denied the Holocaust, he was not arrested in Austria, his non-arrest did not happen on 11th November, he is not 67, and, when he didn't deny the Holocaust, it definitely wasn't in 1989.

Reuters: Japan probe lands on asteroid

A Japanese space probe made history on Saturday when it landed on the surface of an asteroid and then collected rock samples that could give clues to the origin of the solar system…

After analyzing data transmitted from the unmanned probe, the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) said Hayabusa had touched down on the asteroid, nearly 300 million km (190 million miles) from Earth.

The probe then shot a 5-gramme (0.18 oz) metal ball toward the surface at a speed of 1,080 kph (670 mph), collecting into a capsule the debris unleashed as a result of the impact, JAXA officials said.

This is a remarkable achievement. Now there only remains the small problem of bringing the sample home.