Thursday, January 29, 2004

More on the Jerusalem bus bomb

Haaretz reports that the Al Aqsa Murderers' Brigade has claimed responsibility for the mass murder this morning. And one witness said this:







"It was like a pastoral scene — the sun was shining and it was serene outside — but the bus was a nightmare. Bodies were sitting in their chairs, burnt, motionless," said witness Drora Resnick.

"There were burnt children sitting together. People started rushing off the bus, but they were still there, not moving."



Bus Bomb in Jerusalem

On a morning when 400 Palestinian prisoners are being released, the men of violence, the sowers of hatred, murder 10 innocent people and maim at least 30 others.

Doubtless public condemnation will be reserved for Israel if she takes retaliatory action.

Read more on An Unsealed Room.
I discover penicillin

A week or so ago I used my blender to make a banana and strawberry smoothie (Mmmm — smoothie). Washing up the blender seemed a task too great for me at the time, and this morning when I found the courage, mould was growing inside. It has a pleasant disinfectant-y sort of smell.

Laziness? I wish it were that simple. It is the same lethargy that grips me when I can't even move myself into a more comfortable position on my chair.

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Frost

Robert, that is, 1874-1963.

This is one of his best-known poems, and appropriate for the weather we're having. Proper Arctic it is, or even Siberian [ahem]

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.



Snow

I am speaking to you from the white hell that was once the south-east of England. It's been at least an hour since the snow began, and I have to reach a painful decision — do I ration our supplies and/or eat the dog?

Here are two pics from my front door, and one of the back garden:






What did I say?

TRAVEL CHAOS AS BRITAIN TURNS ARCTIC, screams the headline on Yahoo News. The article, from Sky News, goes on to say:







Snow, ice and freezing temperatures have brought travel misery to commuters across Britain. Thirteen centimetres of snow fell on Peterborough in Cambridgeshire overnight and temperatures are expected to drop as low as -15 centigrade in parts of the North.

Conditions on the roads are particularly treacherous, while many train travellers have had to contend with delays and cancellations.

...

Although the south-east escaped the worst of the weather, London Underground chiefs appeared to be caught unprepared, even though the severe conditions were predicted up to a week ago.

Consequently, there were no services at all on sections of the Metropolitan, Jubilee, Piccadilly and Central lines.

The South Eastern, South Central and Chiltern train companies all reported delays due to "adverse weather conditions".





Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I suppose that if I were a Blogger worth my salt, I would be firing off reams about the Hutton Report. Well I'm not (going to fire off reams, that is). And that's all I'm going to say on the subject.

My headline says it all: it's cold. Worse than the weather is the siege mentality that grips everyone, egged on by the media. The hint of a snowflake and the supermarkets are crowded with people 'stocking up' as though they expect to spend the next few months completely cut off.

The authorities speak grimly of being prepared this time, of not 'having a repeat of last year' (when Britain ground to a halt), of having spent millions on grit to ensure the roads stay open.

The media waffle on about Arctic or Siberian weather. It's neither. It's perfectly normal weather for these latitudes at this time of year. Why does everyone insist on behaving as though this is somehow unexpected or out of the ordinary?


Saturday, January 24, 2004

Desperate situations ...

apparently excuse all and any violence. According to Jenny Tonge, that is. Consider these pearls of wisdom on Palestinian suicide bombers: "I think if I had to live in that situation, and I say this advisedly, I might just consider becoming one myself." Read more at The Guardian website.

Interesting. Where does Dr Tonge stand on the issue of Israeli desperation?

Because if my child/mother/father/sister/brother/husband/wife/friend and so on had been blown into tiny pieces while engaged in the deeply offensive and provocative act of taking a bus to school or work, I'd be pretty desperate. If my family or friends had been shot down in cold blood carrying out such oppressive actions as lighting their Shabbat candles, or reading a bedtime story to their kids, I'd be pretty desperate too. If most of the world said my country (and therefore I) had no right to exist, and the UN, who had voted for my country's creation did little or nothing to stem the tide of hatred, I'd be pretty desperate. Yet Israel's every act of self-defence is decried as oppression by such 'liberals' as Dr Tonge (and I vote for her party. Hooray for CK for showing her the door). Individual Israelis have resorted to violence. And Israel punishes them with the full force of the law. Israel doesn't believe that her citizens' desperation excuses violent or criminal acts.

I noticed that the 'they're-driven-to-it-by-brutal-Israeli-oppression' brigade were remarkably silent when the two British suicide bombers murdered Israelis in Mike's Place. Neither of these men was of Middle Eastern origin. What made them so 'desperate'? Could it ... could it possibly be ... [GASP], that Israel has occupied Hounslow and Derby? Or could it be that this whole desperation excuse is nothing more than smoke and mirrors?

Desperate people do commit suicide. And they may do it publicly and dramatically to draw world attention to their plight and that of their people. When their suicide takes the form of an act intended to kill and maim as many innocent people as possible, they become murderers. Let's not fudge the issue.

Blaming the Israelis for the evil deeds of an individual, or those of the men of violence that indoctrinate them does the Palestinian people no favours at all: it demeans them, belittles them, it prevents them from taking responsibility (not the same thing as claiming responsibility) for their own actions.

Of course the Palestinians live in an atmosphere of political hopelessness, because they're backed by forces that don't want them to enjoy democracy or a decent standard of living — they're far too useful as they are. And suicide bombing is sometimes not so much an individual's despairing response as a course of action forced upon them. Consider this:







Translation by IMRA


Sunday, January 18, 2004

How Hamas Turned Adulteress Into Suicide Bomber


Alex Fishman, Yediot Ahronot 18 January 2004



Military sources claim that the terrorist Reem Al-Reyashi, who blew up four
days ago at the Erez Crossing and killed four Israelis, was forced to carry
out the suicide attack — as punishment for cheating on her husband.

A few hours after the suicide attack the Hamas published the will of the 22
year old mother who became a terrorist. With a broad smile on her face and
a rifle in her hands Al-Reyashi read her shocking desire: "I always wanted
to be the first woman who sacrifices her life for Allah. My joy will be
complete when parts of my body fly in all directions."

But information that reached Israel regarding the situation that led
Al-Reyashi to carry out the attack raises a completely different picture.
According to this information this is not a cold blooded terrorist, steeped
in faith and madness, who chose out of free will to turn her two young
children into orphans — but instead a woman who was forced to carry out the
act.

According to military sources, the terrorist paid a cruel price for being
involved in an illicit love affair and was forced to sacrifice herself in
order to clear her name and the honor of her family.

IDF sources said that already at the beginning of the investigation it
turned out that Al-Reyashi's husband, an activist in the Hamas organization,
not only knew about his wife's plans in advance — but even encouraged her to
carry out the suicide attack. This even though he knew that with his wife's
death he would be left to raise their two small children alone. Another
thing turned up from the investigation: the person who was chosen to recruit
the 22 year old Al-Reyashi to carry out the suicide attack and equipped her
with the explosive belt was none other than the lover with whom she cheated
on her husband. The British Sunday Times reports in this morning's edition
that the husband even drove his wife to the Erez Crossing [read it here
hedgie].

In contrast to previous female suicide bombers, Reem Al-Reyashi had no
family member who had been hurt in the course of the Intifada. She is the
daughter of one of the established families in Gaza. Her father was the
owner of a large factory for the production of batteries in Gaza that
markets most of its production in Israel. The IDF refuses to believe
reports that the family of the suicide bomber was shocked to discover what
she had done.

This morning the entrance of workers from the Gaza Strip to Israel will be
renewed — but the security demands will be stricter. From now on workers
will not be allowed to enter Israel with bags or satchels — including bags
containing food. Workers who wear shoes with heels will be barred entrance.
They will also be barred from bringing back things from Israel when they
return.

The investigation of the attack over the weekend finds that the suicide
bomber tried to enter the Israeli side of the Erez Crossing twice. When
she passed the first time the metal detectors sounded an alarm and
Al-Reyashi was asked to leave. After a short time she joined a group of
female workers and returned, but the metal detector sounded an alarm again.
The terrorist was asked to remove her jewelry but even after she did that
the electronic detector continued to sound an alarm. The terrorist was only
allowed to enter after she burst into tears and begged to be allowed to pass.





Plus ça change ...

I'm sitting here timewasting, because if I go offline I have to face the mountain (probably a molehill to anyone else) of things that need doing and the sheer horror of my existence. In cyberspace I'm safe. Nothing to do but fiddle around with templates. No, that's not strictly true — I have a website in urgent need of updating. Others are affected by my failure to act. That comes into the category of 'things that need doing', though and is therefore off limits. I have to give myself permission to ignore all these things; then I find it easier to do them.

I sit at my desk all day with curtains drawn and use a light box to compensate. Crazy.

Forget the Golden Globes
You have until 31 January to vote for your favourites in [fanfare] The Bloggies. I couldn't be bothered to vote in all the categories, but I voted for the best Middle Eastern blog, and was glad to see that one of my favourites, Alison Kaplan Sommer's An Unsealed Room was in the running. I cast my vote for Alison's "window on life in Israel", but had she not been among the nominees, I would certainly have voted for Baghdad Burning.

Baghdad Burning is life in Iraq from the viewpoint of an intelligent, literate Iraqui woman. Her English is impeccable. What have we done to these people? I can say 'we', because although I was against the war, I didn't do anything: I didn't sign a petition, I didn't go on a march, I didn't write to the PM or the President or my MP. Yes, Saddam was a monster. So was Stalin. Did we topple him? All right, he had muscle. So does the government of China, so presumably we won't be going after them for the - what? hundreds? thousands? of Tibetans who have suffered under their rule. And what of the 'disappeared' in Argentina? Did anyone ever suggest a 'regime change' there?

I tire easily these days, and cannot sustain an argument for long, but, please, read Baghdad Burning to learn what you won't learn from the BBC, ITV, CNN, or Fox et al. The most recent posting concerns the decision to replace Family Law with Shari'a.
The White Dog revisited

I wasn't going to have another dog ever again. And here is the result of that decision:.

And if you think this blog is crap, you should have seen the state of her paws after her run this morning.
The White Dog

This was my black dog's successor . She died (i.e. the vet said it would be the kindest thing ...) last September, aged almost 17. Didn't do a great deal for my depressive state.
The Black Dog

Isn't that what Churchill called depression? My black dog was a great comfort to me.

I think I prefer to think of it (depression, that is) as running through water: a great deal of effort moves you on only a little way and the whole business is so tired and frustrating that in the end you give up. Maybe that's not such a good analogy: at least one is left with the cool water swirling round one's legs. All right then: running through water on a dark night in a thick fog.

Everything that mattered to me once seems pointless now.

Question: If I Blog regularly about my depression, does it in fact mean that I am coming out of it?

Question: Wouldn't this sort of misery be more appropriate to my Live Journal (no link — it's a secret. As if anyone cared)?

Sunday, December 07, 2003

The Winter of Enchantment or Where is Victoria Walker?

It has to be said that I don't really care where she is so much, as why she has stopped writing. In 1969, at the age of 21, she wrote a wonderful novel called The Winter of Enchantment. It is about a young boy, Sebastian, who, with the aid of a winking teapot, a magic mirror, and a cat who's swallowed a magic fish, rescues a girl from a hundred-year-long captivity and defeats the evil Enchanter.

The first I heard of this author was when I started hanging out at abebooks.com and abebooks.co.uk. There was a spirited discussion on the Booksleuth Forum about the book. That's great fun, BTW. If there's a book you loved, but the title and the author's name have escaped you, you can ask for help in the forum by giving as much info as possible. Example: "India. Repressed woman. Trip to caves. Trial". If all goes well, one or more helpful types will (virtually) jump up and down shouting, "A passage to India! A passage to India!".

Anyway, let us return to our muttons. It transpires that both The Winter of Enchantment and the sequel, A House Called Hadlows are out of print. There are only about six copies in private hands according to one poster.

I decided to try my library. Nothing in my branch, but Tunbridge Wells had a copy. I reserved it. It came. I read it. I LOVED it. A House Called Hadlows was at another library and I tried to reserve it. Alas, this library is out in the wilds of rural Kent where computers are unknown (they're still using those cardboard tickets and a stamp). The book could not be found. A copy can command about £450!!!!!!!!!! I told the librarian the good (or bad) news, and suggested that maybe they would like to take steps to make sure that The Winter of Enchantment does not do a disappearing act.

Write Neil Gaiman has taken up the trail as well. Check out the relevant entries at his site.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

WOOHOO!! A new look. It was touch and go for a few minutes, but I've got my hedgehog and my search box so I'm happy.

Monday, November 03, 2003

What's in a name? revisited

I have just changed the name of the Blog from The Narcissistic Hedgehog to The Eclectic Hedgehog. Since so many disparate items take my fancy and are thrown together willy-nilly, I felt it was a more appropriate name. See the original explanation here.



Sunday, November 02, 2003

OK, more Simpsons stuff: this time from The Guardian








Eat my lab coat

Looking for good science on TV? Try the Simpsons, suggests Michael Gross

Thursday October 30, 2003

The Guardian

When my youngest daughter became addicted to the Simpsons, I found myself slowly drawn in. For her, the initial attraction was in the yellowness of the characters — yellow being her favourite colour. For me it was the humorous yet highly sophisticated angle the series offers on science.

As far as I am concerned, it is abundantly clear that the people behind the Simpsons are proceeding with a scientific rationale. The core object of their investigation, the Simpson family, is a system trapped in a dynamic yet extremely stable equilibrium. In 14 years, and more than 300 episodes, virtually nothing has changed irreversibly.

In every episode, the writers change just one parameter in order to probe the response of the equilibrium system. The change may temporarily affect many people in the Simpsons' home town of Springfield and turn their small world upside down, but by the end of the episode, the system will have returned to its initial state.

The meandering path on which it returns allows us to observe the mechanisms of reactions between the system's components. For example: Homer breaks his jaw and has to wear a brace that doesn't allow him to speak. To break out of the isolation, he encourages others to speak to him about their problems and he learns to listen. Thus he is suddenly seen as a thoughtful and understanding person by all around him. Other initial disturbances include Bart and Lisa being transferred to different schools, Marge rediscovering high school admirers, and Grandpa Simpson falling in love. Each of these experiments triggers major reactions, but by the end of the episode, everything is back to normal.

Notable exceptions to this rule are the Halloween episodes, forming a mini-series under the title Treehouse of Horror. In total reversal of the general policy, these episodes feature "magical" and unrealistic events that snowball into ever bigger catastrophes, leading ever farther from the normal state. While the normal episodes illustrate the "negative feedback" situation, where changes result in forces that lead back to the initial state, the Halloween episodes show positive feedback, where a small change can trigger a major catastrophe, and the planet is eventually taken over by dolphins, zombies, aliens or some such.

Circumstantial evidence for the scientific thinking behind the series is found in many science-based jokes featuring the laws of thermodynamics, nuclear power and evolution (often greatly egged on by radiation leaks from the nuclear power station where Homer works). Modern technology is represented not only by the power station, but also in advances such as the town's notoriously flawed and pointless monorail. While there is no criticism of the technology as such, its failure is shown to result from the involvement of stupid operators (Homer responding to imminent meltdown at the power station by playing "eenie-meenie-minie-mo" with the control buttons, for example), greedy proprietors, and gullible customers.

Lack of scientific knowledge in the general public is a recurring theme. Homer, of course, represents the absolute zero level of scientific literacy. When the family is playing scrabble and he moans, "Nobody can make a word with these letters," we are then given a glimpse of the letters aligned in front of him: "O X I D I Z E." Even though his job at the power plant would in theory require some knowledge of physics, glimpses of understanding are extremely rare. (Although they are worth waiting for. When Bart is busy building a perpetuum mobile for a school project, for example, Homer storms around shouting: "In this house we obey the laws of thermodynamics!")

Homer's daughter Lisa is the person to turn to for competent scientific answers on everything from astronomy to zoology. On some occasions, she even gets to practise real scientific research, for example when she isolates the pheromone that makes bullies attack nerds, and when she compares Bart's intelligence with that of a hamster. Her scientific prowess does her little good, however, as most of the other characters are too dumb to appreciate herknowledge. She also lacks role models, as the only scientist to appear regularly is a "mad inventor" style nerd. Thus, while extending the scientific method of experimental analysis to the field of cartoon series, the Simpsons presents some sobering lessons to real-life scientists.

I love the fact that we have a TV format where you can mention thermodynamics without scaring people away. But as my kids and I are getting close to having seen all the episodes, and there is the danger that the Simpsons may come to an end at some point, we desperately need more TV made by people who care about scientific understanding, not about blinding their viewers with techno-babble. In other words, please give us less kryptonite and warp drive, and more power stations and three-eyed fish.

Michael Gross is a science writer in residence at the school of crystallography, Birkbeck College, University of London. His latest book, Light and Life, is available from Oxford University Press.




If Professor Frink is reading this, perhaps he would care to e-mail me his comments.

"When troubles come they come not single spies but in battalions", and that's all I want to say about this disastrous year.

On to more important things:

The Independent had a piece on Fox's lawsuit against The Simpsons D'OH!








Doh! Murdoch's Fox News in a spin over 'The Simpsons' lawsuit

By Andrew Buncombe in Washington

29 October 2003

Serious news is no laughing matter. Especially at Fox News Channel. That, at least, is the allegation of The Simpsons creator Matt Groening, who has accused Rupert Murdoch's "fair and balanced" news channel of threatening legal action after a particularly pointed episode poked fun at Fox.

The episode in question featured a "Fox News Crawl" at the bottom of the screen, which parodied some of the more unlikely items featured by the right-wing news channel.

The cartoon ticker read: "Pointless news crawls up 37 per cent ... Do Democrats cause cancer? Find out at foxnews.com ... Rupert Murdoch: Terrific dancer ... Dow down 5000 points ... Study: 92 per cent of Democrats are gay ... JFK posthumously joins Republican Party ... Oil slicks found to keep seals young, supple ..."

Mr Groening told National Public Radio that, after the cartoon was broadcast last year on Fox Entertainment Channel, he was threatened with legal action by the news channel.

He said: "We did the crawl along the bottom of the screen. Fox said they would sue the show. And we called their bluff because we didn't think Rupert Murdoch would pay for Fox to sue itself. We got away with it.

"But now Fox has a new rule that we can't do those little fake news crawls on the bottom of the screen in a cartoon because it might confuse the viewers into thinking it's real news."

Yesterday, Robert Zimmerman [any relation to Bob Dylan?], a spokesman for Fox News Channel, denied that the news channel had ever threatened a lawsuit.

"We are scratching our heads over here," he said. "We liked the cartoon. We thought it was great." Earlier this year, Fox tried to sue the comedian Al Franken over his book, Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them. The suit was thrown out of court and the publicity helped Mr Franken's book become a bestseller.

29 October 2003 10:56




Wednesday, June 25, 2003

The Achinoam Nini Page "The Web's first and largest Achinoam Nini fan site". So says its creator, (and I think it's great, and much better than the official site); he goes on to say that Noa is "Israel's greatest female singer". There I part company from him: I think that honour goes to Chava Alberstein. Ofra Haza would have been in the running too, had she lived. Forget her disco stuff — listen to Yemenite Songs. I believe that has also been released under the title Fifty Gates of Wisdom.

Nevertheless, Noa is wonderful. I'm listening to her singing Nocturno, and it's sending shivers down my spine. Here is a translation of the lyrics taken from the CD liner notes. They are by Leah Goldberg and have been translated from the Hebrew. Can't find details of the translator.



All the stars hidden away
and the moon in a pich black night
From the north
to Yemen
not a ray of light.

Morning, loyal widower
clutch your grey sack tight
From the north
to Yemen
not a ray of light.

No light, not a ray of light.

Light a small white candle
in this darkened tent,
this heart of mine
From the north
and south to Yemen
then a brilliant light will shine!

The light, the light will shine.



Friday, March 14, 2003

Ay caramba! Is it really this long.

A most heartening article in my daily e-mail from the BBC today, on the role of painkillers in preventing Alzheimer's. There is even hope that a treatment may follow. If there is an upside to my taking anti-inflammatories for all these years, it must be that.