The herding instinct


CNN reports:

The Celebrity Mercury cruise ship is returning to port a day early and delaying its next sailing to address an outbreak of gastrointestinal illness that sickened 350 passengers. The outbreak is the third consecutive outbreak on the ship in a month.  The latest outbreak is the ninth incidence of gastrointestinal illness reported to the VSP this year affecting more than 2 percent of passengers on a cruise ship.

The feminist dystopia


Cristina Odone, in the Telegraph, wrote:

I’m sick of the feminisation of politics. If it means having to meet Dave’s mum, Gordon’s auntie and Nick’s granny, give me macho politics any time.  Politicians once needed to prove their trustworthiness, efficiency, authority. Apparently these days they need an emotional hinterland to appeal to voters.

Don’t get me wrong, Samantha Cameron, like Sarah Brown, looks nice, bright and down-to-earth. But does she know how to plug the deficit? How to cure the NHS? How to ensure children leave primary schools knowing their ABCs and that 2 plus 2 makes four?


Comments 100My semi-betrothed who cries out her own name in climax and whose epitaph reads:

My name was writ on Diet Coke

… has finally got her butt into gear and reached 100 fine comments.  Ubermouth spends 50% of the time happy with me and 50% of the time never speaking to me again.

This girl who takes seventeen emails to make her point and then writes another two just to make sure I understood has got to be taken note of and her number one fault is her softheartedness.

Whether it’s a bird with a broken wing she takes into shelter [you should see the menagerie she’s built up over time] or a fellow blogger who is on his last legs, she comes to the rescue and then gets slapped in the face for her troubles.

Songs of depressingly fine memory

“Indifference” depresses me [though I’m drawn back to it] because it is redolent of a time and a place far away. This reminds me of Piaf in a rundown cafe, a lifestyle so far from mine and yet close. In Russia while I was living there, accordionists would sit, everyone had a glass or eight and the conversation would flow as the morsels were consumed.