The Masai Talking Stick

I read that the Masai talking stick is used by that African tribe to determine who can speak in a tribal gathering. If you have the stick, you may speak. If not, not.

I believe other indigenous peoples use (or used) talking sticks. Those in the northwest of North America, for example.

This sounds like an incredible family tool. Imagine the chaos of family celebrations, everyone shouting at once, replaced by the calm, authoritative approach of the talking stick. The next time I am in Australia for Christmas, I will see if any Aboriginal tribes have them (apparently they do but call them message-sticks) and, if so, purchase one for Christmas lunch. How will my three rumbustious Australian grandsons respond? You get one guess.

In these video conferencing times, it seems like there should be a digital talking stick system. I starting watching the first of the latest series of Have I Got News For You at the beginning of lockdown, but turned it off after 10 minutes because the video conferencing was chaotic. I guess the comedy culture of constant interruption isn't well suited. For serious discussions, I guess the TV producer/director is the talking stick: "You have the stick, Boris". In the House Of Commons the Speaker is the talking stick.

I read on the Indigenous Corporate Training Inc. website that "A great many schools have adopted the Talking Stick principles in their classrooms as a way to teach children patience, self-discipline and to respect the speaker and his/her words. The added bonus is the children additionally are learning about First Nation culture in a tangible way." That's cool. Also on that site are references to alternatives to talking sticks such as an eagle feather, wampum belt, peace pipe or sacred shell.

Writing a blog is a great learning tool; now I know these things. This might be useful once pub quizzes restart.

To Infinity and Beyond

No, this story is not about Buzz Lightyear. But Buzz's catchphrase is actually a neat description of The Three Body Problem, an epic saga of Earth's contact with alien races written by the Chinese author Liu Cixin.

Oh no, not another Star Trek tale! I hear you say. I promise you that it is not. This is so-called hard science fiction, meaning that it is characterized by concern for scientific accuracy and logic. No phasers, no "beam me up, Scotty".

This is actually a trilogy. The first book has The Three Body Problem as its title; the second is The Dark Forest and the third is Death's End. Spoilers ahead.

The tale starts in the era of Mao's Cultural Revolution, where scientists, as well as many others, suffered purges and arrests. Ye Wenjie, an astrophysics graduate from Tsinghua University, witnesses her father beaten to death. She turns out to be one of the few fixtures throughout the three books. At the end of the trilogy, many centuries have passed in Earth's history.

Ye Wenjie later, as an astropysicist, sends a message into space to see if there are any extraterrestrial civilisations. The message is received by the planet Trisolaris, the only remaining of the original twelve planets of the three star Alpha Centauri system, 4.37 light years away from earth. Scientifically, the three bodies - in this case the three stars of thew system - rotate around each other chaotically. This causes Trisolaris to go through many eras of alternating prosperity and disaster but now the planet is nearing its end as it is drawn inexorably towards collision with one of the suns. Trisolarians have been looking for a planet in another, more stable, system in order to spread their civilisation there. Hence the message from Earth is a potential blessing and, realising they are much more advanced technologically than Earth, they make plans to colonise it.

On Earth, scientists realise that the Trisolarians have built an invasion fleet which will arrive in just over four centuries' time. Thereafter, the trilogy deals with the ways in which Earth responds to this - technologically, culturally, sociologically and individually.

Each of the three books has a main protagonist and, as the saga develops over the centuries, it grows in scale from a planet-focused tale to a galactic epic.

The science includes known astrophysical concepts such as the three body problem itself, dark matter, dark forest theory, suspended animation and multidimensional space. As the story goes far into the future, new theoretical concepts are explored.

But this is not by any means a scientific treatise, or even a story of a battle between alien races but more about the development, innovation and ebb and flow of civilisations. I wish I was an experienced literary reviewer, so that I could give you a better description and impression of these amazing books. It's like asking someone to describe The Lord of the Rings in a few paragraphs. I hope this brief description, coupled with my enthusiasm for the books, will persuade some of you to give them a try. They are complex works; the first book particularly requires patience as the background to the tale evolves, but the pace grows, and the direction becomes clearer, as the centuries pass.

Why are Arsenal so toothless? A football fan's history

It's well known that I am an Ipswich Town fan. Even their recent ignominious slide down the leagues has not dimmed that. But I like to have a team to support whilst bingeing on TV football - which mainly means Premier League. Theoretically I could choose a Turkish League side but I have no affinity with any of them. So my support has gone to Arsenal for the last few years. In choosing a non-Ipswich side to support, I tend to go for glamour, so Chelsea were a choice for a while; they had glamour - and money to buy glamour.

Where's the glamour in Arsenal? I hear you say. Until quite recently, they had world class, glamour players - Bergkamp, Henry, Viera, to mention just a few - and a world class manager who, although not strictly glamorous, was a man whose views on life, as well as football, were worth listening to. Perhaps an intellectual, one might say, but with a fighter's instincts too - remember his head to head touchline spat with Jose Mourinho?

And I have an affinity with Arsenal, going back to the 1960s when my father used to take me to Highbury to watch players such as Frank McLintock, George Eastham and Joe Baker. In the days when you could turn up on the spur of the moment and get in. Train round the North London Line from Willesden Junction to Highbury & Islington, 20 minutes walk to the ground.

On 3 May 1971 I was at White Hart Lane (home of the hated Tottenham Hotspur) to see Arsenal win 1-0 and win the League title, for the first time in 18 years. Oh joy!

Skip forward to the late 1970s, where I taught at Ipswich School for three happy years, during which our first son was born. More important (just joking Simon) was the opportunity to get to Portman Road, home of the mighty Ipswich Town every other Saturday to watch their then First Division match.

Technically, as a member of the school's teaching staff, all of us were required to take games on Saturday  afternoons - a barbarous practice which I should have sussed out before applying for the job. Each autumn, the whole staff would gather just before the start of term to be addressed by the head of PE, who told us the latest changes to rugby's offside laws (even to this day rugby's laws continue to be changed with bewildering frequency). As a soccer enthusiast, I had no interest in rugby nor aptitude for teaching or refereeing it. I was therefore - sensibly - allocated a group of boys who also had no interest in the game. We - boys and master - shared a wish to get the whole thing over as quickly as possible and - heretically - to play soccer, whose rules we understood, rather than rugby. So we agreed to get our lunch eaten super quickly, make our way to the playing field - out of sight of the authorities, i.e. the PE staff - and get a soccer game done and dusted in time for us all to get down to Portman Road to see the Tractor Boys in all their glory.

And glory it was in those days. Bobby (later Sir Bobby) Robson was the manager and we were a force to be reckoned with in the First Division, regularly in the top six - 3rd in 1975 and 1977. In May 1978 - I was on my way to a new job in Manchester - we won the FA Cup! Go little guys.

I could write more about Ipswich (and, sadly, their subsequent decline) but this is supposed to be about Arsenal, not Ipswich.

So why are Arsenal so awful? They are thought of as a "top six" club, although now only by virtue of financial clout and a magnificent stadium. As I write this, Arsenal are 10th in the Premier League table and seemingly could slide even further. They have a squad of international players including German World Cup winners, yet they are a soft touch defensively and disjointed offensively. They have an midfield which goes AWOL. They do not have one player who would find his way into a (genuinely) top 6 side, so these players are badly underperforming. They have lots of talented young players coming through, but so do many of their competitors. 

They have no fight, no tactical  discipline and are - on the occasions such as yesterday when they take the lead with not many minutes to go - unable to hold on to a lead. They just can't keep clean sheets. Do the players not care? Are they not playing for their (new) manager? Do they not get coached to defend corners and free kicks?

Mostly, they lack pace, effort and desire. Build up is slow, ultra cautious. Taking the easy sideways pass rather than running at, and beating, a player. Where is the risk taking, the courage to make things happen? Are they scared of losing? Maybe a defeatist culture has taken hold. Time for a sports psychologist, maybe.

Those of you checking out this blog and this post, hoping for answers will be disappointed. I have no answers. In fact, I write this hoping that someone will come up with some. I am losing what is left of my hair by tearing it out weekly.

I'd rather talk about Ipswich.

There is one chink of light: Arsenal are only two points behind Tottenham, with 8 games to go!

Footballers run government

So Marcus Rashford, a young lad who plays centre forward for Manchester United - which is an English soccer team - has been co-opted into No. 10 Downing Street's Policy Implementation Unit. The Prime Minister, one Boris Johnson, is ultimately accountable to this unit so, when Rashford decides that school children who qualify for free meal vouchers should receive them during the summer holidays - i.e. when they are not at school- the PM immediately says "yes sir, Mr. Rashford, whatever you say, it shall be done".

A Mr. Troy Deeney, another member of the Unit, tells our visibly-cowed Prime Minister that he must utter the phrase "Black Lives Matter" in his next speech. So Boris dutifully mutters "stay alert; black lives matter".

A peripheral player in the Unit, a Mr. Mesut Özil, tells the PM that Turkish president Erdogan must be exempt from quarantine rules, as he is arriving shortly to lend support to Özil's struggling Arsenal team. "Ah"says Johnson "that's easy; you'll have to talk to Priti". "Er, please no!" quivers Özil. "Dinna wurry" growls a voice from the other side of the room. It's the Unit's security chief, Professor Lord Sir Alex Ferguson. "Let me talk to her....I'll give her a Glasgae kiss..."

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea....Dom, Dom help me out here"cowers Johnson.

But Dom has been cornered by Ferguson's sidekick (and erstwhile sworn enemy, but we must do the Right Thing for the country [although it's not his country]) Mr. Roy Keane: "Tell me about this little trip you took..." he threatens.

His Holiness Mr. Gary Lineker, never one to be left out when there are brownie points to be had, says to everyone that the 1986 World Cup quarter final must be replayed, because an Argentine hero "scored" a goal with his hand. "Shut up Gary" says Deeney. And Rashford. And Unit sporting ethics expert Diego Maradona. Not Keane (Irish). Not Ferguson (fiery Scot). Definitely not Özil (wimp).

"This is getting silly" tweets Johnson. "You're not meant to have any power; I am!" He stiffens his sinews: "Cry God for Boris, England and Saint George! No more Argies: Brexit is Brexit! They will not have our fish!"

"Let's do a free trade deal, guys. You get football back on the telly and I get to disband you".

And that's (really) how it happened.

All things Cornish

Cornish pasties are overrated and unhealthy, in my humble opinion. If you want a tiny portion of meat mixed with soggy potatoes and wrapped in thick tough pastry, OK you're not a foodie. If you want fast food, get a cheese sandwich. less of a grind eating it.Years ago when Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osborne slapped 20% VAT on hot takeaway food, the pasty lobby geared up to oppose it, egged on by Greggs the bakers. the Sun ("Who VAT all the pies?") and the Cornish Pasty Association (what? are you making that up, Nigel?). Prime Minister David Cameron falsely claimed he had eaten a pasty (surely not, how plebby) in Leeds railway station. The shop had closed two years previously. When will Prime Ministers learn? On a par with Tony Blair claiming to be a Newcastle United supporter.

But I digress. The hooha caused Osborne to drop the proposal. Cornwall 1, Government 0.

Now the story gets ridiculous. The Cornish Pasty Association runs the World Pasty Championships, held at the Eden Centre. A hundred competitors from countries all over the white, English speaking world compete to eat the most pasties over a seven day period. Bakers compete to have their pasty recognised as the best. I'm sorry to say I couldn't find a list of recent winners for you.

Q. Where in Cornwall is the International Pasty Festival held?

A. Real del Monte in Mexico.

[Seriously? with all that delicious food, they eat pasties? Are they crazy? Ed: actually Mexicans have a reputation for being crazy]

Enough about that dreadful food.

Now Cornish cream teas are a different kettle of fish (I looked up the origin of that phrase but it is really uninteresting, on a level with a pasty, so I won't bore you with it). Freshly baked scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream on top. Also unhealthy but deliciously so. One of those a week is something I have missed in lockdown.

The local cheese here is Cornish Yarg. Made from the milk of Friesian cows (aren't they Danish?). I'm not a great fan of cheese and my knowledge of the comparative virtues of different cheeses is as minimal as my knowledge of red wines. All I know is, if  you want a decent, tasty cheese, there are lots much better than Yarg. It's one of those indigestible, rubbery cheeses like Edam, and is covered in nettles. Yep, really.

However, it doesn't make traveleering.com's list of the six worst cheeses in the world. Now those are definitely to be avoided.

Hevva buns (or "Heavy cake"), which originated in Cornwall, can also be delicious. I used to get them from Tesco with crystallised sugar on top, before I decided to watch the carbs.

Finally to the Cornish language. which was revived in the early 20th century after dying out in the 18th. Why? English not good enough? Do Cornish people share secrets that they don't want the rest of us to hear? I have lived in Cornwall for 16 years and have never heard anyone speak any Cornish. Maybe they all switch to English when they see me coming and back to Cornish behind my back. I only know one Cornish word (which begs the question: how do I know I haven't heard anyone speak Cornish?): Kernow. Which means Cornwall. There is a Cornish nationalist party (of course, where would be without the firebrands?) called Mebyon Kernow. Apparently Daphne di Maurier was a member. They campaign for devolved government - a Cornish Assembly - on a par with Wales.

I love Cornwall and it's great living here. I know I'm not a local, and will never be, but I can enjoy cream teas, hevva buns and ales from the St Austell brewery.

The red button

Broadcasters obviously think we might need to hear the obscene chants of football crowds while we watch a match. Both Sky Sports and BT Sport are offering the option of using the red button during spectator-free live football.

As I write this post, I am watching a German league match for which the host broadcaster Sky Deutschland provides a "crowd noise" soundtrack. It's been created from real spectator sounds from the earlier (pre-lockdown) match between these two teams and is to an extent contextual - an engineer (German word for TV producer, Vorsprung durch Technik and all that) selects specific sounds for goals, penalties and so on. Whilst it may sound OK for those specific situations, for most of the match when nothing other than normal play (player kicks ball, passes to another player who kicks ball, etc.) happens it is extremely irritating. There is no red button option to watch without crowd noise.

There are pictures of people (presumably real people) on one side of the stadium, facing the main camera. Do these people get royalties? Apparently Borussia Dortmund fans can pay to have their picture on the "fan board" (some premier League clubs are now doing the same); no news though on audio clips of individual insults to be hurled at referees.

BT Sport say that they will offer "pre-recorded dynamic crowd noise". So real crowds from previous matches but not clear what "dynamic" means. Presumably the same as the  Bundesliga, an engineer (is this really what students study engineering at uni for?) selecting context-specific stuff. Sky will have "team specific crowd noise and chants". "Come on you Bluuues". Etc. Scarily, Sky has an app where "fans can vote for what chants they want played". Plenty of opportunity there for Russian and Chinese state hackers. What could possibly go wrong?

I gave up taking my sons to football matches when the obnoxious chanting and shouting of crowds became intelligible to 8yos. Today, going to football is not a pleasant experience for those of us with sensitive personalities (i.e. brains).

I often watch football with the sound off, although that is largely to avoid the inanities of commentators. I will definitely not be watching with piped crowd sound. Keep the people away for ever!