It’s the 30th November 2011. The day of the biggest strike in recent years. Somewhere in the region of 2.7m people on strike today.
And all to inconvenience the hard working people of this country who don’t have the luxury of working for the state.
Well if you read the Mail that is. So what’s going on?
As far as I can tell people are complaining about yet another devaluation of current pension schemes (last devalued 3 years ago) and a salary freeze. Add to that the general dissatisfaction inherent in any system when lunatics at the top screw up the whole system in order to flog off the things to the highest bidders who not at all incidentally fund the bosses political party. Reference here: the boss of Care UK funds the health minister.
The main arguments against seem to be:
1 – How can health staff leave patients to suffer? Well we’re not really. If anything we’re protecting the services for people into the future. The RCN never strike and the doctors are still at work (for now). Physios and many nurses are off (amongst others). I don’t think any of my colleagues want to do this but they’re angrier than I’ve ever seen. It’s difficult to stand by watching your own future degrade as well as the dismantling of the services that cater so well for so much of the population. If these changes go unchallenged then the NHS that so many fought for will be gone, probably for ever. All to line the pockets of private health care companies; there is no other good nor valid reason for the current changes to the NHS.
2 – The pensions are better than private pensions. If so then why the hell are people not fighting for better private pensions? The bankers ripped off millions with dodgy pension management and they’re continuing to do very well with massive salaries and bonuses for their abject failure. But it’s the public pensions that are seen as too generous. Typical rhetoric to insist all are brought down; just when did people get so cowed that they’d rather that than fight for their own benefit?
3 – The pensions are unsustainable. That’s simply not true. The pension scheme is currently getting more in than it’s paying out and this is predicted to continue this way for a goodly number of years into the future. So why mess with it? A pessimist would say so that it’ll annoy the unions, cause strife (along with reducing real funding to services) and then they can stop the NHS providing services and flog a “failing” service to the private sector.
There was a lovely letter in The Times on Monday that referred to the strikes. The author stated that “2.7m people are to strike” and also that “we hear that 2.72m people are now unemployed and would be glad of the work” so the conclusion is “The solution to this problem seems obvious!”
If I follow correctly then he’s suggesting that the 2.72m unemployed be brought in to do the jobs that the strikers are not doing today. Not sure how well the hordes of uneducated and feckless included in that number would be as teachers, physios, nurses, court staff and more. Maybe people actually think that qualifications are simply pointless exams rather than a pre-requisite to demonstrate that you know enough to do the job. Bizarre letter.
If I were working today then I wouldn’t be working.
Saw “Attack the Block” innit. It was well ….. erm I can’t do the youth speak nonsense that these tedious neets witter on with all through the thing.
I love my Adam and Joe whenever they’re on radio or telly and this fillum was written and directed by Joe so I was looking forward to it. I listen to Radio 5′s fillum reviews with Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo and heard reviews and discussion about the thing when it came out. As far as I remember it was very much “not as funny or scary as it should be”.
I don’t recall much at all in the way of comedy from it if I’m honest. Not much laughter from me. I did enjoy the fillum but only as a bit of popcorn fodder.
There were some startlingly obvious scene setting points. At one stage a kid wants to do some parkour style move where he jumps from a bridge to a stairwell but it’s too far and the other kids laugh at him so he doesn’t try. DING! He’ll manage that jump at some later point in the fillum then possibly whilst running away from the aliens. DING! Correct one point to me.
The main kid will realise through the peril he’s brought to himself and his block that he has to grow up a bit and take reponsibility for the effects of his actions. DING! Second point to me.
This second point was rammed home unrelentingly towards the end of the thing. First the girls in the fillum more or less tell him this. Then you’ve got the nurse who they mugged at the beginning more or less telling him this. And finally you’ve got scenes of him wrestling with it himself. All a bit linear and obvious really.
He may well save the planet at the end but he’s a horrible character. Drug running, mugging, violent piece of dirt. There may be a fillum out there that tells the story of why these kids turn out like this but this wasn’t it. One scene had one kid complaining that the cops just nick them “for nothing”. Oh “nothing” seems to include having the proceeds of muggings on them, knife carrying, drug carrying, carrying fireworks as offensive weapons etc etc… Not sure I want to root for such a lowlife.
And the sheer lack of ambition of these kids was very disheartening. R’s worked with neets and she said that the fillum depicted them very well, so point to Joe there. Makes me quite depressed thinking how we can dig these folk out of the holes they, to a large extent, dig for themselves. Talk about screwing yourself up. Ah but then it’s everyone else’s fault innit?
I’ve been saying for years that stretching before exercise is a pointless waste of time at best (for most people) and detrimental for some. There are occsaions where stretching is useful and my working day is spent picking out those who would benefit from specific stretches as opposed to the general splurge of stretches that people seem to do.
Anyway there’s been a meta-study of pre-exercise stretching: here.
It’s only looking at soreness after exercise but rather unsurprisingly comes down on the side of “no effect”. Hurrah!
The NY Times article has some interesting wotsits tho.
The amount of received wisdom in the comments is unsurprising. How many times have I heard “Don’t stretch cold muscles they’ll tear”? I don’t know how often but I’m still not sure where that comes from. I give stretches to people every day and I can’t remember ever telling them to wait until they’ve jogged around a bit.
And then there’s the “Ah yes but stretching stops injury”. Well no it doesn’t. At least random stretching that everyone seems to do. But yet again those who advocate injury preventing stretches never quote sources or studies but are oddly insistent on their correctness.
And finally “stretching improves performance”. Now there’s a tiny bit of truth here. If you use end of range movements in your sport then stretches help. However if you do a power sport then stretches will reduce your performance. Stretching is a relaxation exercise. How does anyone think that stretching muscles improves power? No clue. But it seems to be a clingy notion.
I saw a study recently that says that runners with stiffer muscles are more efficient than stretchy runners (sorry don’t have the reference handy). But people don’t want to hear it.
Work is chaotic as the NHS changes (“There won’t be any more top-down re-organisations of the NHS” – D.Cameron) start to take effect. We have no idea what’s coming down the track in a few years or even months. After our forced removal from one PCT to another (for no valid reason) we now have the utterly arbitrary “Any Qualified Provider” stuff coming our way.
AQP for those fortunate enough not to know is where they randomly picked a few areas of medicine to be put out to tender. One such is “Back and neck pain”. What this means in practice is that GPs must offer patients services wherever anyone qualified to provide can offer it. The money follows the patients. Sounds fair enough but then no-one has any idea of how many patients will go where so investing is pointless as it could all be for nothing.
Any just what happens with people who have sciatica? What if it comes from piriformis spasm rather than the lumbar spine? Or those pesky tennis elbow patients? Most are neck related but we know that GPs haven’t a clue about this.
It doesn’t help that commisioning staff have no clue either. As an example they wanted us to do outcome measures. Again that’s reasonably fair. But then they wanted to impose the “FRAT”. Oops. This is the “Falls Risk Assessment Tool”. Would be useful for an elderly population with limited mobility but our customers are all mobile and can be as young as 16. Nice to know that those with financial clout over us have so little idea what actually happens in their services.
Private work is still on-going. Pilates classes going well too.
Would be nice to have a bit more certainty though.
Interesting! Just sent this to the Kermode and Mayo fillum review show on 5Live since they’re always discussing what to do about potential spoilers in their reviews.
We were bored last night. Recent Monday have been BINTM nights but it finished last week. So after food we were channel hopping and came across Doc Martin on that ITV starring Martin Clunes. R commented that I’d like it as her from The IT Crowd is in it.
Turns out she isn’t any more.
Well wow it was a dull show. No drama, no comedy. Just not good enough for a comedy drama. The plot such as it was, was flimsy mother in law type stuff. It was very odd to watch what is effectively a prime-time show for a change and to see very little of any substance whatsoever. The actors were all doing alright, no worries with their skills but the dross they had to work with.
Wonder if anyone can get a boring script made for ITV? Still if you like spending time with amiable people then this would be your bag.
We watched “Of Gods and Men” the other night. Well what a lovelily made fillum. It’s a slow paced one though so if Transformers is your sort of thing then I wouldn’t bother.
It’s a case in what happens when the outside world intrudes into a cloistered life. We have a bunch of monks (I think that’s the correct collective noun) living in Algeria doing their helping the community stuff and living in complete harmony with the locals. The difference in religions mean little to either party and they all mingle happily. At one point the monks are invited to someone’s son’s party (sort of a religious coming of age thing) and are welcomed warmly and they, in turn, are happy to be there. In other words the monks are locals just like anyone else.
But then the civil war kicks off and foreigners are being killed and girls without veils are stabbed on buses etc. All very unpleasant.
The monks themselves are a mixed bunch and very well drawn characters. Some are old and fatalistic but happy with whatever happens, the youngest monk is terrified more than any. The trials of the group form the second half of the fillum. Tis lovely.
A wonderfully warm and poignant study of faith, brotherhood, neighbourliness and duty. I shan’t divulge the ending though.
Yesterday we went to a monkey place. We were expecting a bunch of different monkeys but instead there were lots of 1 particular type. In fact they were from North Africa, indeed the same place as the fillum was set. Barbary Macaques they were.
J wasn’t too impressed but everyone else was. Nice place.
There’s always the argument that people shouldn’t necessarily know the same stuff as each other and I subscribe to this. However I think we can agree that there are certain things that people should just be expected to know.
For instance that the Earth circles the sun and not vice versa. Things like knowing what vice versa means etc… And knowing what etc mean….
Two incidents have shaken this belief in me recently.
First was watching an episode of Millionaire. There was a bloke on it who was an English teacher. OK? An ENGLISH teacher. I emphasise for good reason.
One question: “What is the latin for cast list?” OK I might not have answered straight away but on Millionaire they have multi-choice. I can’t actually remember the options but they were as obvious as these:
A: Vice versa, B: Cave canum, C: Modus operandi, D: Dramatis personae
He had to use a life-line! Unbelievable. And this was at only £1000, hardly high up the ladder.
This bloke knew nothing at all. Had only one question that required no life-line and that was question number 1. He eventually gave up on the 5th question which was about a Dickens character and which novel was he in. Now I actually didn’t know the answer as I’ve not particularly read any Dickens but I return you to the fact that he was an ENGLISH teacher. Surely some Dickens would have been on some syllabus somewhere in his past if not his own reading for pleasure. Honestly.
The second incident was at work the other day. It was a team meeting on a morning after I’d had a rotten night of no sleep so I was drowsy and narky to say to the least. I can’t really remember quite how we got there but I needed to know the name of the 1st president of the US (some obscure point about honesty I think) and my sleep-deprived mind couldn’t bring it forward so I asked the team.
“Oh you know the 1st American president, oh what’s his name oh you know…” etc.
And they didn’t answer. They couldn’t answer. Well one could, one who’d also done O-levels may I say. But the others looked at me and I couldn’t tell why. Nobody said anything. I became mildly agitated as I assumed they were just being pains and annoying me. Surely they knew such a simple piece of info as this. So I asked again.
“No come on what’s his name? You know chopped down the tree, can’t tell a lie father etc…”
At which point one of the brightest and most able team-members turned to me and asked:
“Alby. Why would we know American history?”
Gobsmacked I was. Reminded me of a time long ago when I used the word “posthumous” in the office and not a single person in this office (a large dept in a major bank) knew what it meant. I think it’s people’s lack of interest in knowing stuff that genuinely upsets me. Very disappointed.
I have very recently (about 2 hours ago) finally finished my final essay for the first year of an OU Masters degree. Never thought I’d do a Masters.
And I’m now wondering why I bothered.
No time to do the work needed for the assignments. No time to even do the assignments adequately. Thinking about leaving the job that the course would be useful for anyway. Well worth the money and effort then.
The idea was to learn more about research and changing practice at work. Well this year has all been about “leadership”. Rarely have I had to suffer such tedious long-winded nonsense that frankly should be pretty obvious.
Long studies and articles that basically boil down to “if lots of change all happens at once then people get unnerved”. Really? That takes years of scholarly pursuits in order to get something along those lines published? Do people need to be told this?
Likewise – discussion apparently smooths progress within a team. I’d never have known it. Nor would I have known that if someone introduces a new policy then there’s probably an agenda behind it.
Good heavens it was tedious writing essays about this nonsense. Having to find references to support an argument like “a leader should know how his team think” was not my idea of advanced study.
So I’m rather disappointed. And I’m not sure that this final essay has what they’re looking for and if I fail this one then that’s a wasted module for me and I come out of the year with nothing but some very tedious .doc files about topics that should frankly be obvious to anyone with half a brain who’s ever worked with a team of people who may not necessarily think the same way about stuff.
I’m not doing next year’s module yet, even should I pass. I think a year off is a definite good idea. The following module should be more up my street as it’s all about research and methods etc. That’s actually what I was after from the course but this year has really knocked back my enthusiasm to continue. Plus, of course, other things have taken my mind elsewhere what with everything and that.
They said it couldn’t be done. Some said it shouldn’t be done. Hah! We went and showed them.
Camping on Skye at the fag end of summer was always going to be a bit of a rough trip but the rewards of the place seemed to compensate handsomely.
We took 2 days to get here after a brief diversion to Rebecca and Matt’s wedding in London (most inconsiderately 100-odd miles in the wrong direction I might add). We split the drive so we didn’t have to do 10 hours plus of driving and then have to pitch a large tent.
Our chosen overnight spot was Fort William where we kipped over at a lovely B&B run by a mad old bat who never so much asked for a deposit. Nicer and cheaper than a Travelodge type place (not that they’re particularly abundant once you get north of the M8 anyhoo). The next day was a dash to Mallaig to get the ferry and then further to the campsite at Glen Brittle.
I’d never been to Skye before but ooh what a lovely place!
The campsite is situated at the end of a 7 mile single track road, between the black and grey beach and the Cuillan mountains. Tame birds flit around the tents picking up scraps and local rabbits hoppity around too. Didn’t see any eagles though. Most of the tents there were of the 2 man variety. Our 6 man job was amongst the bigger ones there. No matter, on arrival the weather was benign and calm. Set-up was easy and then the holiday can begin. After signing in at the campsite shop (“You can’t get refunds on camping but you can pay night by night if you want to” said the about 12 year old boy who seemed to be in charge) I needed the loo. We’d been given the code when we paid but it didn’t seem to work on the men’s loos. This was a problemfor a couple of days. At first it was a pain but eventually the air of cameraderie it engendered was excellent. Standing with a bunch of men outside the door figuring something out, commonly ways to block the door closing, became a regular event for me. After about 4 days the campsite buckled and took the lock away to be mended.
Our first full day was one of walking. We’d decided to head along the peninsula walk. Again the weather held but on the way back the clouds gathered over the Cuillans and it looked like there’d be some storms heading our way.
Well it rained that night but not for long. We spent the next day driving around and finding nice places to eat and do the tourist thing at. Top most was The Old Inn at Carbost. Very welcoming place with excellent food and local beer. Not only that but a high chair and a children’s menu too. Highly recommended.
That evening we did have to break out some of my anti-midge arsenal as I got bitten quite a lot (as per usual wherever there are bitey flying things) but it wasn’t too bad.
Next day was another walk day. This time up the hills to a natural bowl nestling between a couple of Cuillans. I couldn’t get J up (and more to the point, down) safely at the top end of the walk so I sat and waited in what was gloriously hot and sunny weather. I was wondering whether I should have packed the suncream at this point. As it happened the midges came out and I was bitten quite badly having rather stupidly left my weaponry back at the tent. I managed to keep J reasonably clear of bites though. By the time the girls had come back my legs had taken on the appearance of a smallpox sufferer’s. Once back at the tent the full arsenal came out and we suffered little more hassle from the bitey wotsits that night.
It should be pointed out that the campsite folk had told us that this day was going to be rough weather. There was hardly any wind, and no rain, and it was quite warm. Hmm hardly rough unless you were particularly sun-averse.
The next day started with higher winds but hardly anything to write home about. We spent it out and about in Portree, the only town of note on the island, eating in nice restaurants and poking around shops and that. We did try and get N some new school shoes only to discover that there’s no shoe shop on the island. Madness! Schools are back up here and we were at the bus station area when there were pupils waiting for buses back to wherever they lived on the island (Portree has the only secondary school here). Risking being put on some sort of a register I asked a group of schoolgirls where they got their school shoes. The answer was “On the internet or in Inverness”. Madness again!
Apparently there hasn’t been a shoe shop here for ages. Business op for someone? Oh yes there’s no private physio here neither. Hmmm…
Back to the camp to find that the wind was picking up somewhat. Still normal levels but at the higher end. One family from Manchester arrived at that point and struggled to pitch their tunnel tent for a while before sorting themselves out.
Later that night our tent started bending somewhat with us in it. And the wind really picked up. Blimey it was noisy inside the tent. We didn’t sleep at all for that night. Well me nor R did. The kids slept on, oblivious. I was up a couple of times making sure that guyropes and pegs were holding. One peg bent quite a lot and we heard one rope slacken suddenly as its peg gave up the ghost. Oh well it’ll be over by morning.
It wasn’t. The next day was just as bad. I bought more pegs from the camp shop and doubled up on pegs to the windward side. We decided not to bother cooking breakfast and headed to the Old Inn for brekkie. They stopped serving breakfast at 9.30. We got there at 9.33 and they wouldn’t even serve us toast and a slice of bacon. Major blot on our positive view of the place that was.
That night the wind was as bad at times as the night before. We were happy that our tent could cope now so actually got some sleep. The Manc family told us later that they’d given up and gone to sleep in their car instead worried that the tent would collapse.
They were a lovely family and they had a couple of young daughters one of whom is now officially N’s pen pal. They got on famously for a couple of days before they gave up and shipped out elsewhere.
We still stayed. The wind slackened and it looked brighter. Yay! Got up to make breakfast only to be confronted with what could only be described as a cloud of midges. As I battled to dose myself with whichever anti-midge stuff came to hand, whilst flailing pathetically, I managed to spray 50% DEET straight into my left eye. Bad day.
Not long after this we decided to de-camp whenever the weather was good enough. Then we’d move around via B&B’s. We had dinner at the local (local=15 miles round trip) pub again and got chatting with a pair of outdoorsy types. They gave us kudos for camping (IE they expressed astonishment) as they were in lodges. Then when we told them which site we were on they said “Oh are you in the green tent?” Yes, yes we are. Wow, our tent was noted by other walkers and remembered as a point of interest. Slightly startling.
Once decamped we moved further round the island. We’d had a good evening at a place called The Edinbane Inn. Excellent local pub with musicians playing. Very good guitarist and singer, very good percussionist (despite clear inebriation) and a superb fiddle player. Guy looked like an extra from Trainspotting but good heavens can that man play a mean fiddle! I’m almost certain he’ll have serious shoulder problems at some point (if he hasn’t already) but frankly I wouldn’t want to change how he plays at all.
We went back a couple of nights later and there were more musicians including a total of 4 other fiddlers. One was nearly up with him but the others were clearly not in his league and they knew it. I felt a bit sorry for a flautist there as her instrument wasn’t audible over the fiddles. And there was a woman with a guitar which just seemed out of place. Oh yes and a man turned up with a set of pipes with which he performed a couple of numbers unaccompanied by the others (mainly as his sound totally drowned out the others). He was good but it was a bit out of kilter with the rest of the evening’s bring and share (or in super-fiddle bloke’s mind – come and beat the skills of everyone else).
Our first B&B was a bit out of the way near Edinbane, nice enough but we were happy enough to move on the following day. After a day’s scenic driving we ended up at Seabound B&B in Flodigarry. This was excellent, particularly clean for any hardcore OCD types around. We ended up staying for 3 nights.