[doomsday clock] now set forward two minutes

This blog believes many things but it doesn’t believe one can predict the end of the world. Too many times doomsday devotees have made the prediction and too many times the fatal day has then passed.

It’s also written in scripture that it’s impossible to predict, so why bother? On the other hand, this particular clock is maintained by the world’s premier scientists:

The minute hand of the Doomsday Clock has been moved closer to the fatal midnight hour to reflect the growing concerns of global terrorism, the unchecked nuclear ambitions of Iran and North Korea and - in a first - the threat of climate change.

The clock was first set 60 years ago by an elite group of nuclear scientists at the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, shortly after the United States dropped its atomic bombs on Japan. The clock, which hangs in the University of Chicago, has been set at seven minutes to midnight since 2002. It was moved Wednesday to five minutes before the hour.

Seems to be something to keep at the back of the mind, not that there’s a lot we can do. Also, it seems a tadge political to me. However, there’s no doubt we’re now in perilous times.

[uk unemployment] papering up the cracks

Talk-talk has replaced make-make

UK unemployment claims fell more than expected in December to a nine-month low as expansion in service industries prompted companies to hire more workers.

It has been said that the British worker is motivated by a number of factors, of which ambition is the highest rating. It’s also been said that he lacks motivation in the first place and the blame for this is sheeted home to the employer, which is only partly fair.

The portrait of the British worker has changed. You know the old images – cap and gladstone bag and British workmanship equalled quality. Now it equals words. Also, the service industry is not production. It doesn’t actually … er … produce anything tangible except images and words.

Another aspect is that the British worker has priced himself out of a job, as our own Martin Kelly has mentioned before. The worker has overunionized himself.

All of this is characteristic of a banana republic and the road there is twisted and pockmarked but nevertheless, it is all downhill and inevitable.

[blogosphere] aristocratic pretensions cut no ice

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Venerable Lord James the Extemporaneous of Chalmondley Chumleyton Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Was it for this reason that I informed the esteemed blogroll of last evening's Blogfocus, employing the third person singular? It has been brought to my attention by more than one blogger and they were in no way being pedantic, that I seem to have been getting a little dizzy, a little light headed of late.

Please accept my apologies and normal service will be resumed henceforth.

[blogfocus tuesday] vital issues

1] Straight into it and L’Ombre is wondering about the discrepancies in Heinz Beanz on either side of the channel:

To go along with the Verizon Maths noted a couple of days ago here we present proof that the English and the French apparently measure/count things differently. In the English ingredients, Beans are 51% and Tomatoes are 33%. In the French version we have only 49% Haricots blancs (beans) and 27% Tomates. I'd be curious to see what proportions are in Heinz baked beans bought in other countries and I'd love to know what the explanation for this state of affairs is.

2] A big welcome to the Norfolk Blogger and to his shocking revelation about Mars Bars:

I always read and hear Tories going on about "the nanny state", but this is obsessive. Having a permit for fatty foods is hardly going to endear Mr Cameron to fish and chip shop owners in Glasgow who have been known to deep fry Mars bars.

3] The Flying Rodent, [and I do like the man’s style], is more concerned with the gruesomely botched executions and offers this:

I'm looking forward to the executions of Chemical Ali and Doctor Germ. With comic book nicknames like that, how can Moqtada's boys resist? I reckon they'll be blindfolded, locked in a room strewn with rakes and left to clatter about smacking themselves in the face for an hour or so, just as an appetiser.

Eleven more bloggers plus the Mystery Blogger here.

[mathematical formula] it all adds up

S + G + L + R + W = NE

Where:

S = snowflakes gently falling outside
G = little gift
L= cuddly lady
R= good red
W= warm room
NE= nice evening

[bitta kultcha like] higham’s blogonnet cxlvii

My blog is as a fever, posting still
On that which longer nurseth the disease,
From the MSM which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my blog,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I, desperate, now approve
No sleep is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic typing with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my diatribes as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;
For I had hoped thee fair, Oh Blogger bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.