Chairs At Home

There's an odd piece in the Sun today about high-tec deckchairs. Or, to be more precise, sun loungers. The so-called techchair is bristling with gadgetry, powered by solar panels built into the lounger's fabric.

It sports speakers in the frame, headphones, an LCD screen, a nifty sliding laptop rest, a WiFi and Bluetooth antenna, firewire, USB and network ports, docking ports for cameras, MP3 players and video players, and by the user / sitter's feet, a GPS / TXT display. In short, this PC World-devised contraption supports, or hosts, or encourages the use of just about every infuriating gizmo known to man.

Neat, I suppose, if you like that kind of thing, but I am forced to ask - WHY? Don't we spend enough time surrounded by technology? Don't we see enough blinking status lights, hear enough self-satisfied beeps as yet another must-have piece of kit confirms that it's ready and waiting to beep at us again?

I certainly do, and I have no intention of using the techchair, or anything remotely like it. The last thing I need, when I've finally made a little time to relax by the pool, is an electric - well, ok, electronic - chair bedecked with gadgets to first beguile and then badger me. Call me old-fashioned, but a nice, simple deckchair, without any sort of docking ports, or power requirements is exactly what I need.

In fact, after several weeks of increasingly less gentle "reminders" from Mrs S, I finally remembered to purchase just such a simple folding garden / picnic chair from one of those DIY / garden centre superstores yesterday. Now, I freely admit that I'm not a garden chair virgin. I've owned any number of these things over the years, and long ago mastered the art of folding, unfolding and - perish the thought - actually sitting on the things.

Apart from noticeable decreases in size, build quality and comfort over the years, I can discern no significant differences between this chair and its most ancient predecessors - except that it comes with no less than three bright red warning / danger stickers affixed to the frame, and a whole list of things you're supposed to do / not do with it slipped inside the wrapping.

The stickers suggest that you shouldn't put your fingers here, or here, or here whilst folding / unfolding the chair if you expect to keep them - not, I would have thought, something that really needed to be said, in view of their locations, and certainly not something even the most hard of thinking chair operator would need telling twice.

The helpful notice goes into a little more detail, giving clear instructions on how to safely fold and unfold your brand new chair, whilst retaining possession of all your digits. It goes on to insist that the chair should only be used on level ground, and that one should never sit on the arms of the chair, amongst other self-evident proclamations.

Is all this guff really necessary for a simple folding garden chair? Are people really so incurably stupid as to genuinely not know how to work the damn things? Or are the stores just so terrified of litigation from someone claiming to be terminally dim that they try to cover every angle?

Either way, it's a very sad sign of the times, and I dread to think what kind of warnings would need to be plastered all over the techchair before any unsuspecting member of the public could be allowed to sit down and plug themselves in.

Billy Seggars.

Holy Cow Fart, Man

"WINDY cows are having bright red tanks strapped to them to check the gases they let off — in a bid to beat global warming," according to the Sun, under the fantastic headline "This is a real wind farm."

I know, this isn't a new story - livestock farts have been getting the blame for unacceptable methane levels for months, and there have been various oddball attempts at "research" into a "solution". But the (very large) picture of some poor cow stood in an enclosure with an enormous red plastic tank strapped to its back just has to be seen to be believed.

Clearly, the cow in question is at least dimly aware of its predicament, and doesn't look at all happy to be living under the biggest ever fart-in-a-bottle. I just hope nobody tries the old fart-lighting trick, or they may end up with the world's first rocket driven cow - is the world ready for methane propelled cows roaring across the landscape, I wonder?

Hmm, come to think of it, it's probably a neat way to avoid the Government's road tax ram-raid, and save on petrol too. Not sure the cows would approve, though.

But, keeping these strange visions to myself for a moment, isn't all this a bit odd? The article claims that the top trump scientists in Argentina, where this experiment is taking place, believe animal farts to account for up to 30% of the country's methane output.

Fair enough, but surely, that means that this level of methane output is normal - or, at least, natural. I suppose there are rather more cows knocking about than perhaps there would be if humans didn't farm them so aggressively, accounting for some of the output. But, left to their own devices in a habitat that is pretty good for them, any species will quickly become very well established.

Doesn't that rather do away with the idea that humans are behind all this alleged global warming guff? Wouldn't the combined cow / other reasonable sized grazing beasts be contributing a fairly hefty amount of methane to the atmosphere with, or without human intervention? And, if that's the case, who are we to interfere with a natural process for our own advantage?

Still, in the spirit of scientific enquiry, it would be interesting to see how much methane / other greenhouse gasses are pumped out by wildlife - such as wildebeest, for example - in their natural habitat. I can't wait to see pictures of roaming herds of the buggers, complete with bright red methane tank. Nor can I wait to hear the outcry from the eco-warrior camp when someone tries it!

Also in the spirit of enquiry, it might be instructive to strap similar tanks on the scientists themselves, with a view to measuring the useless hot air they expel - probably enough to power a medium-sized town for a year.

Billy Seggars.

All Smoking Banned By 2035

I wonder how many smokers noticed this small article tucked away in the murkier depths of the Guardian's health pages the other day? Probably not all that many, if only because it's difficult to imagine many of the fiercely PC Guardianistas as smokers - or, indeed, as people.

For those of us still in the real world - or what passes for it in England today - the article, titled, "Health: Doctors urge film censors to give 'pro-smoking' films an 18 certificate" lets a particularly sinister cat out of the bag. For, according to Dr Vivienne Nathanson, the British Medical Association's head of science and ethics, the BMA is plotting - nay, campaigning - to make Britain smoke-free by 2035.

Yes, that's right, smoke-free. Smoke. Free. As in no smoke. At all. Currently, somewhere between 20% and 25% of the population enjoy a smoke, and many more - the majority, I feel - of non-smokers support a smoker's right to do so. The BMA's insane scheme means that a tiny group of meddling busybodies, with no democratic mandate to impose their views on anyone at all, is trying to do exactly that to almost 1 in 4 members of the public.

Roistering Viv and her Health Fascist colleagues over at the Barmy Moron's Association seem to have forgotten that they, as doctors, are public servants. We, the public, pay their wages, and WE tell THEM what to do. And, judging from the rest of their proposals, they are very, very badly in need of someone - ANYONE - to tell them what to do.

Amongst the proposals most in need of a reality check is the utterly pathetic demand that any movie depicting a "positive" image of smoking should automatically be rated 18. According to the Telegraph, that means that movies such as Independence Day, which shows Will Smith lighting up a cigar whenever he kills an alien invader, would be a no-no. And, where such scenes exist, it would be a legal requirement for anti-smoking ads to be shown before and after the movie. Oh, and if a screenplay just can't get along without a smoker, there most be story lines that detail the "consequences" of smoking.

As nuts as this seems, I can easily imagine the Health Fascists baying for this kind of crap, and getting it, too. But there is a problem: if images of folks enjoying a cigg on screen become an 18-only event, what about people who actually, in real life, light a cigg or cigar? Think about some of the other acts that rate a film as 18 - sex, violence etc. They're not generally things you're encouraged to do in public, and I can't help wondering how long it will be before daring to light a cigg on the street will be considered as bad as - or, probably, worse than - ripping your clothes off and banging your other half senseless there.

Of course, if the BMA has its way, we know exactly how long it will be - 2035 at the latest, before your freedom to smoke is gone, never to be seen again. And, even worse, the Department of Health is giving this tosh serious consideration, amongst its other pathetic schemes to stop people from smoking. Did you ever see such a staggeringly arrogant, overbearing example of the Nanny State in action? Come to that, did you ever imagine that such a tiny few over zealous Health Fascists would ever be allowed to exercise such massive influence over so many people in an allegedly free country like Britain?

Until fairly recently, I always thought - well, ok, hoped - that the democratic process kept dictatorship at bay in this country. It seems that I was sadly mistaken on that score. Still, all is not lost. Dr Vivienne Nathanson, of whose antics I have written before, is a doctor and is therefore subject to the ever-capricious regulation of the General Medical Council. I could easily imagine huge numbers of irate smokers venting their fury through complaints to Nathanson's regulator. For those inclined to give it a go, you can find the GMC's rules and regulations on the Legislation page of their web site.

For the rest of us, it looks like we're going to be faced with a fairly stark choice in the not-too-distant future: stand up for our rights and reverse the erosion of our freedoms, or get the hell out of this bloody awful country. Only a few months ago, the idea of simply getting on a plane and leaving was unacceptable to me; England is my home, and I don't see why a few Health Fascists should force me out. But, since then, there has been more of a nosedive than a downturn in the state of the nation.

Our economy is in free fall, the Government is clearly both bent - compare Gordon Brown-Trousers telling us not to waste food while he demolishes a banquet with Mugabe's lavish celebrations and starving people - and incompetent, and the real power seems to lie with unelected quangos and even less significant bodies like the BMA. Political correctness is rife, education is non-existent, healthcare is a lottery, crime isn't so much a risk as a promise, common sense has already emigrated and Crazy Cameron doesn't look to be all that much of an improvement on Gordon Brown-Trousers.

It's a no-brainer, really, isn't it? And but for a lingering attachment to our home, and a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, things might get a little better with a new Government, Mrs S and I would already be long gone - although, probably, not to Niue. I'm sure we can't be the only folks to have seriously considered a move - Canada looks like a promising possibility - and Gordon Brown-Trousers should be very, very worried. Does it not cross his mind that he, and his Government, must be doing something terribly wrong if so many of his citizens are eyeing up new lives just about anywhere but here?

Probably not. After all, that would be less people to vote against him at the next election, wouldn't it?

Billy Seggars.

Green Rage

According to the Sun, Britain's eco-warriors are so wound up about environmental issues that they are put off friends, partners or colleagues who are less zealous in their planet-saving palaver.

As well as being put off a "love match" as the Sun calls it, the tree-huggers are turning their fury on workmates who print out unnecessary documents, or leave their computers running over night.

Interestingly, the survey - of 2,046 adults across the UK - says nothing about the Inverse Green Rage phenomenon, despite its rapidly growing prevalence amongst Brits with even microscopic amounts of common sense. It is characterised by right-thinking individuals mocking, teasing and generally lambasting any self-confessed recycler until they promise to leave the lights on all day and all night, for ever and ever, amen.

Ok, that's not entirely true. But it is entirely true that many, many more people are put off friends, partners or colleagues who have been bitten by the environmental bug than are put off those who think Global Warming (as it used to be called until it was found to be neither Global nor Warming) is total crap. Face it, when people find out that someone's a mental enviroist, they slap in place their glassy smile, nod politely and back away FAST. We've all done it, and then gossiped about them later.

Not too long ago it would have been knowing looks over the coffee machine. Today, in this unenlightened age of no indoors lighting up, rumour flits between departments as folks gather at the side door for a quick smoke:

"Got a light? Ta!"
"Seen that new bird in Accounts?"
"Nope. What's she like."
"Blonde, big knockers, tree hugger."
"What a waste..."

And so on. Nobody, barring fellow eco-nuts, who don't really count, likes an environmental zealot, and while the zealots may get mad with the rest of us, they are very seriously outnumbered - they've been annoying us for a long, long time, and getting ratty because we all think they're deluded isn't doing their cause any good at all.

But then, what could do their cause any good? Some credible evidence might be a good place to start. So might turning their anger on those who use "green" issues a means of making a profit - ever noticed how "environmentally friendly" products are also financially unfriendly? That just makes the rest of us resentful and disinclined to be further harangued by the office crank.

No, if they want to get anywhere with this saving the planet lark, they need to make if financially and practically viable for the rest of us. I couldn't care less about the environment, and, when it comes to saving the planet, you could pave the whole surface for all I care. But, given the ever-rising price of power, I wouldn't say no to some free electricity.

Being of a slightly technical nature, I can see the obvious pitfalls in doing a Crazy Cameron and nailing a windmill to the side of your house - in and of itself it's never, ever, going to provide enough power to make it worthwhile. But I can also see that, in combination with some other methods, and with a little lateral thinking, such an approach could, for many people - not all people, unfortunately - make a noticeable dent in electricity bills.

With energy prices set to rise by another 40% by the end of this year, that has to be an attractive prospect. And, coincidentally, it's very much in line with the tree-huggers' dreams. So they should quit hassling us about leaving the PC switched on, and start thinking up ways to make this kind of thing work well, cheaply and easily enough for the average home owner to get it up and running in a weekend.

Do that, save us some brass, and, weirdo tree-huggers or not, they'll be heroes.

Billy Seggars.

Rubik's Cube Returns

Remember the Rubik's Cube, that frustrating, distracting, absorbing little puzzle that drove more than a few folks to the end of their tether in the late 1970s and early 1980s? Where, today, you find iPod wearing, cellphone chattering, laptop tapping dorks in every corner, their place used to be occupied by demented, exhausted-looking folks whose fingers just couldn't stop twisting that damned multi-coloured cube.

Like all the best puzzles, it's challenging and addictive. You either "get it" or you don't, and communities of cube solvers sprang up just as quickly as cube-related obsession caused quite a few relationships to break down. And now, according to the Telegraph, the Rubik's Cube is making a comeback - just in time for Christmas.

Of course, to the millions of puzzle addicts out there, it never went away. But the impact of Cube-related obsession on the current, high-tec generation will be interesting to see. However will the brats of today cope with a puzzle that doesn't require them to push buttons? Worse, they'll have to put down their mobiles - texting and cubing just aren't going to go together, are they, so how are they going to call their mates for help? The idea that they might actually have to TALK to someone will fill a few minds that I can think of with dread!

It's no surprise that the the Cube was popular on its first outing, and I predict a fair degree of popularity this time out, too. Although some kids of today won't like the idea of a puzzle you can touch, especially if it means they have to come off MSN to play, their parents will love it. How many people could actually put their hands on a working 1980s (or earlier) Rubik's Cube? Not many, I suspect. But but many will be overcome with nostalgia when they see one in the shops and buy it for their own amusement? LOADS.

How do I know this? Simple, really. Britain is going (or has gone) to the dogs. Economic doom and gloom stalk the land, folks fear for their jobs and lament the cost of living - especially essentials like fuel and energy - and things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Many of us remember the better times of our younger days, even if they were only better from our point of view, and the opportunity to relive even a little bit of those apparently good times is irresistible.

Hence the popularity of Indiana Jones, Dr Who, The Incredible Hulk, Star Wars etc., and now the Rubik's Cube. It may not take the world entirely by storm, as is did first time out, but then it's a different world, with different expectations. Nonetheless, it will give a good account of itself in the festive sales, and I, for one, am glad to see it return.

Billy Seggars.