I'm 77 with a bald spot and receding hairline. Although not receding fast enough to predict any ultimate baldness. In fact maybe receded rather than receding.
I quite like the idea of going completely bald although it's obviously out of my hands; genetics have to take their course. It would mean a saving on hairdresser appointments and shampoo but more than that it would look cool.
Patrick Stewart is the iconic bald guy.
Ryan Reynolds (he of Wrexham F.C. ownership fame, as previously recorded in this column) has claimed that Stewart (Professor X), even at 80, is the 'real sexiest man', although that may be an attempt to monopolise the annual award by the X-Men cast, having been a winner himself (Deadpool) as well as Hugh Jackman (Wolverine).
Someone once asked Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, why Stewart's Captain Picard character was bald, as "surely by the 24th century they will have cured baldness". Roddenberry replied "in the 24th century no-one will care".
I think the man I am closest to in the degree of hairline recedence is Vladimir Putin.
He comes from a long line of bald or balding leaders, including Lenin, Khrushchev, Andropov and Gorbachev. Interestingly the alternating leaders - Stalin, Brezhnev, Chernenko and Yeltsin - has good heads of hair. If you are interested in betting on the identity of the next Russian President, make sure he or she is hairy.
The most recent leaders of UK political parties who were bald are Conservative leaders William Hague and Ian Duncan Smith. The former lost a general election to Tony Blair; the latter resigned before he could do so. Which may explain why we currently have a Conservative Prime Minister who looks like an upside down mop.
I'll post an update in a year's time, if you remind me. And if you care.
Clarkson's Farm: I don't much like Jeremy Clarkson, or his alt-right libertarian spoutings. However, Richard Wagner was probably an unpleasant man, with anti-Semitic leanings, but I enormously enjoy his music and I approached this TV series with a similarly open mind. Not a fan of Clarkson's petrolhead stuff, I thought perhaps he couldn't murder farming and, in this eight episode 'account' of a year on his Cotswold farm, he doesn't; at least not all the time.
It's apparent that a great deal of this is staged and scripted (as is the majority of TV), so it's possible that the whole thing never happened in the way that it was portrayed but you either suspend belief and enjoy it or switch off. I chose the former. Clarkson claims that the tenant farmer of his farm decided to retire and so our Jeremy (I can't believe I wrote that, it sounds ridiculously familiar) decided to have a go himself - with, it has to be said, an Amazon film crew in tow. Fair enough, he's a TV presenter by trade so do what you do best.
Did you know that the luxury sports car manufacturer Lamborghini started as a tractor manufacturer? You can buy new Lamborghini tractors today, although they are now made by someone else, albeit still sporting the iconic name. Obviously the first thing Clarkson did was to purchase one. Only around £100,000, I think. I don't know how much tractors cost but I'm guessing that's high end. More expensive machinery follows, as he sets out his initial aim to grow crops. Not surprisingly, he doesn't have a clue how to do that. It's a bit of a soap opera really, but Clarkson shows some empathy engaging with various locals whom he recruits to help. These people form the dramatis personae of the production.
In a way it's a Del Boy epic - grand schemes (such as a rewilding project), flitting from project to project, an inability to be interested in detail (selling spring water in the farm shop before it has been tested - sounding very much as though inspired by the Only Fools And Horses episode Mother Nature's Son) and a propensity to ignore rules (the farm shop stocks pineapples when the planning permission specifies local produce only). It is brought to his attention that, in order to get a government grant available for leaving a field as grass (I'm pretty certain there's a technical term for that), the grass has to be mowed regularly; he opts instead to get a flock of sheep. Which proves to be an economic disaster but, predictably, great television, telling us everything about this show. Clarkson sets himself up as a lovable buffoon, kept in order by his cohorts - and by his Irish girlfriend Lisa who flits in and out of the show, adding colour, from time to time.
It's Laurel and Hardy to an extent but, interestingly, there is a deal of serious comment about the economics of farming today and the mountains of paperwork required. As the year progresses, Clarkson changes: he becomes more serious, engages fully in hard physical work and, with his new mates/advisers, is prepared to work through the night on occasions to get things done. Throughout, and particularly at the end of the year, when all the crops have been harvested, he reflects that these months have been some of the happiest in his life. I have no reason to doubt his sincerity. For me, a very enjoyable show.
You've heard of Frank Whittle, yes? Inventor of the jet engine. Thomas Edison? Electric light bulb. Leonardo da Vinci? Pretty much everything else. Except ...
John Voevodsky can legitimately claim to have saved hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of lives. He invented the third brake light. Voevodsky was actually a psychologist who studied the effects of driving on attention, testing a small, inexpensive gadget on 343 taxicabs in San Francisco. It turned out that fitting an extra brake light on top of the boot (trunk in some parts of the world) lid, or in the rear window significantly reduced rear end collisions occurring as a result of someone driving too close to the vehicle in front and not being able to see the regular brake lights.
Not to be confused with Vladimir Alexandrovich Voevodsky, a Russian-American mathematician whose work in developing a homotopy theory for algebraic varieties and formulating motivic cohomology led to the award of a Fields Medal in 2002. He is also known for the proof of the Milnor conjecture and motivic Bloch–Kato conjectures and for the univalent foundations of mathematics and homotopy type theory. Got it?
I added that paragraph to show that, whilst a third brake light is a simple, effective and easily comprehensible idea, there are things in our modern world which, like the Schleswig-Holstein Question, are understood by only three people and one of those is dead.
What is the centre of the universe for our latest circumnavigation? It's the Panama Canal, wonder of the modern world at 9 degrees North of the equator.
There's a lot of ocean to the west so I think we'll go east towards Africa. First we must traverse the northern part of South America: Colombia and Venezuela. The current UK Government advice is "There is a high threat from violent crime and kidnapping throughout Venezuela, which has one of the highest murder rates in the world." And "Despite improvements in security, crime rates remain high in Colombia. Illegal armed groups and other criminal groups are heavily involved in the drugs trade and serious crime including kidnapping (for ransom and political purposes), money laundering and running extortion and prostitution rackets. Street crime is a problem in major cities." So I think there's a case for avoiding those countries and getting on a ship straight away. It's over 3,000 miles to Sierra Leone, 13½ days at 10 knots, so time for a nap.
From Sierra Leone we journey across Africa to Somalia:
It's not as easy as it sounds, though. We have to traverse 13 other countries to get there. I hope it's not going to be as terrifying as Venezuela and Colombia.
Sierra Leone itself is an interesting start. Following many years of bloody strife typical of post-colonial (in this case British) rule, given independence in 1961, today it has an apparently democratic government, although it has to be said that President Kabbah was put in place by the military after a counter-coup in 1998 (having been ousted in a military coup a year earlier); I think I recall British troops were involved in that. Whatever, peace has reigned since then. Polygamy is rife in Sierra Leone but who am I to judge their customs? What I find most interesting is that, unlike many post-colonial African nations, they did not change their name.
We cross the border into Guinea. As another coastal country, like Sierra Leone, the first Europeans there were the great Portuguese explorers but the French were their colonial rulers. Guinea is a traditional name. Another peaceful, democratic country. Moving on, we enter the Côte d'Ivoire, a country of 26 million, another French-colonised, now independent nation with a post-independence history of civil war and despotic leadership. I don't pretend to understand the reasons for, and implementation of, the transitions from colonies to independent nations that these African countries underwent but common sense suggests it could have been managed better; who knows?
Ghana is next. I remember the British colonial name The Gold Coast from my youth. I guess that reflects its mining economy. Eastwards from Ghana we have to aim to hit the Indian Ocean in Somalia, although that's rated a "risky country" [my words] by the UK Foreign Office. Maybe we fly over. On the way we visit Togo. govolunteerafrica.org tells me that "Togo offers some extraordinary and interesting sites." For example:
1. Go on a hike. Nope, not for me; it's exhausting enough traversing the world.
2. Spend some time on one of their idyllic beaches. Yep, let's do that.
Benin is next; there's a lot of talk about the Benin Bronzes. Looted by British forces in 1897 and sold on to anyone and everyone. The Germans have given theirs back; the British, not so much.
Nigeria is Africa's most populous country, with 206 million inhabitants. Another country where we should not go (all the familiar stuff about murders and terrorists); we'll pass through quickly and get to Cameroon, where the advice is less stringent, just a bit of "mugging and armed banditry". We'll take precautions whilst enjoying many wildlife experiences, such as the Benoue National Park and the Mefou primate sanctuary.
The President of Chad was killed by rebels in April, which obviously makes me nervous about that country. Oil is Chad's biggest export, however the country - another French colony given independence in 1960 - is poor and struggling to accommodate refugees from conflicts with neighbouring Libya and Sudan.
Only two - of 53 - African countries rank lower than Chad on the Human Development Index (HDI). One of those two is next on our list, as we dip in and out of the Central African Republic - like Chad, given independence in 1960 and engulfed in civil war more or less ever since - either side of a tiny enclave of Sudan, on our way to South Sudan - itself only one place above Chad on the HDI.
I find myself saddened by these countries and their post-colonial histories. Nowadays there is much criticism of European expansion and colonisation of parts of the world, particularly Africa, and I am definitely not competent to judge that history or those judgements but it just seems that the handling of moves to independence may have been hasty and ill-conceived. Without knowing any facts, it sounds to me like "we have got what we needed from you and now we're washing our hands of your troublesome country". I'd like to know more.
We arrive in Ethiopia, one of only two African countries to avoid European colonisation. A monarchy for centuries, the country suffered a Life Of Brian moment in 1991 when the communist People's Democratic Republic of Ethiopia was overthrown by the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front.
Finally we arrive at the coast in Somalia, home to 727 species of birds, according to Wikipedia, which I thought pretty amazing. However the conservation website Mongabay says 570, ranking Somalia just 60th in the number of bird species (Colombia is top with 1,878). Who's counting among friends, anyway? Mongabay also tells us they have 176 species of mammals and 239 species of reptiles. So there are some positive things to be said about Somalia.
[Check out the Mongabay site; it's an interesting resource]
Crossing the Indian Ocean, we just about touch the southern tip of India - the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu - and enter Sri Lanka. I once went to a wedding in Chennai, the capital of Tamil Nadu. It lasted a week. I was invited to give a speech. Thankfully there is no record of this. I absolutely love India and hope to return one day when things are back to normal.
Sri Lanka has 239 species of reptiles, 376 of birds and an urbane, thoughtful cricket star of recent times Kumar Sangakkara, ICC Cricketer of the Year in 2012, scorer of 12,400 runs in 134 Test matches at an average of 57.40 and current President of the MCC:
Incidentally (one of my favourite words) in October 2121 former England captain Clare Connor will be the first female president in the club’s 233-year history. If you don't like football (yes,you) how about cricket?
Now a really long sea voyage, over 6,000 km to Thailand's Ko Kho Khao island. I get terribly seasick but it'll be fine, won't it? Anyway the island has some great beaches and I can take a well-earned rest. We then move on to Vietnam, whose currency is the dong and whose government is Marxist-Leninist, deriving that ideology from Ho Chi Minh. Marxism–Leninism holds that a two-stage communist revolution is needed to replace capitalism. I'm not sure where Vietnam is on that journey.
After Vietnam, we enter the South China Sea which has in recent years become a hotbed of claims and counter-claims by China, Japan and others - and US naval patrols - over the sovereignty of a number of lumps of rock, otherwise known as islands. Such as the Spratly Islands, pretty much equidistant from Vietnam, Malaysia and the Philippines and named after a British whaling captain. A recent report in the CIA World Factbook tells us "all of the Spratly Islands are claimed by China (including Taiwan) and Vietnam; parts of them are claimed by Brunei, Malaysia and the Philippines".
The Philippines has over 7,500 islands. I imagine that must be a bureaucratic nightmare. There are two big ones, in the north and south, and a jumble of smaller ones in the middle which is where our route takes us. Palawan is a very very thin straggly thing with a population of just under a million and is our next landfall.
We sail through the Sulu Sea and the Bohol Sea, passing the Philippine Island of Mindanao, the second largest of the country and home to 20 million inhabitants, making it the eighth largest of the world's islands. Filipino is the national language of the Philippines and English is also an official language but dozens of languages are spoken by the various ethnic groups in Mindanao.
Back to sea; 5,200 km to the Marshall Islands across the Pacific Ocean. An independent Micronesian country of 5 islands, 29 coral atolls and, according to worldometers.info, 59,190 inhabitants, the Marshall Islands derive their name from John Marshall, a British explorer, who visited in 1788. Climate change, leading to rising sea levels, apparently threatens this tiny island nation.
Crossing the International Date Line, more ocean travel leads us to landfall in Costa Rica and finally back home to Panama. Costa Rica is ranked 64th in the HDI. It has the 5th freest press according to the Press Freedom Index 2121 (Reporters Without Borders), it is the 36th most democratic country according to the Freedom in the World index and is the 12th happiest country in the World Happiness Report, the 2020 edition of which quotes "it is fascinating to see that the top ten in terms of optimistic outlook also includes new cities ... in fact, places two, three, and five in terms of future life evaluation are populated by San Miguelito (Panama), San Jose (Costa Rica), and Panama City (Panama)".
We did it! Ferdinand Magellan, eat your heart out.
Did our world tour leave us more or less optimistic about the future for humankind? I suppose a mixture; lots of sadness but also beauty and promise.
Be honest, dear reader. If I put an unannotated map of Africa in front of you, would you be able to accurately locate Rwanda? Try it:
Were you correct? Me neither. Here's a quiz question: what percentage of UK asylum seekers are granted asylum (including various resettlement schemes)? I didn't know and guessed at 75%. The most recent confirmed figures show that in 2019 there were 35,566 asylum applications and in 20,703 cases asylum was granted: 58.2%.
The UK has a population of 67.8 million. The 14,863 rejected asylum seekers represent 0.22% of the population.
Denmark has a population of 5.8 million. They had 1,008 asylum seekers in the last three quarters of 2020, of which 357 were granted asylum: 35.4%. The 651 rejected asylum seekers represent 0.11% of the population.
In May, Denmark signed an agreement with the government of Rwanda; the agreement refers to the UNHCR-sponsored Emergency Transit Mechanism (ETM) in Rwanda, a transit/processing resettlement centre designed primarily to deal with an influx of refugees from Libya to other African countries. You can read the full agreement here. A few weeks later, the Danish government passed a law enabling it to process asylum seekers outside Europe.
“External processing of asylum claims raises fundamental questions about both the access to asylum procedures and effective access to protection,” said Adalbert Jahnz, an EU Commission spokesperson. “It is not possible under existing EU rules or proposals under the new pact for migration and asylum.”
The UN High Commissioner for Refugees urged the Danish government to refrain from externalizing their asylum obligations. Such practices "frustrate access to international protection, are inconsistent with global solidarity and responsibility sharing, regularly undermine the rights of asylum seekers and refugees and thus violate international obligations of States."
The Guardian quotes Rasmus Stoklund, the Danish government party’s immigration spokesman, as saying “If you apply for asylum in Denmark you know that you will be sent back to a country outside Europe, and therefore we hope that people will stop seeking asylum in Denmark.”
All this to deal with a few people who together represent 0.11% of the population. It's likely that most - perhaps all - of these are not genuine asylum seekers but is that reason enough to subject legitimate asylum seekers to an arduous journey of 6,500 miles to live for days, probably weeks, maybe months, in a probably over-populated equatorial camp? Not to mention the economics of it.
By now you may well be asking why I am so interested in Denmark's immigration policies.
Reports in UK newspapers today suggest that the Home Office is keen on replicating Denmark's outsourcing of asylum seeker processing and has had discussions with the Danes about their agreement with Rwanda. Next week, the government will introduce the Nationality and Borders Bill into the House of Commons; today's Times reports that the bill will "include a provision to create an offshore immigration processing centre for asylum seekers" The chief executive of the Refugee Council charity is quoted as saying "For generations men, women and children seeking protection in the UK have been given a fair hearing on British soil. Most have rebuilt their lives as law-abiding citizens making a huge contribution to our communities. Offshore processing is an act of cruel and brutal hostility towards vulnerable people who through no fault of their own have had to flee war, oppression and terror."
What kind of country are we? Whether or not people agree on immigration policy as applied to asylum seekers, surely we should treat all of these people with compassion and decency while their applications are being assessed.
Oh, and here is the answer to the original question:
I am being surveilled. Monitored, snooped on. Sitting next to my TV in my lounge, staring defiantly at me, is a small video camera. Given to me as a present by my son. "You're getting old, Dad, and I want to make sure you're OK". What kind of son gives his dad a surveillance device as a birthday present? Whatever happened to socks, a Guns N' Roses T shirt, a copy of the Jeremy Corbyn Annual?
OK, I get it. And I voluntarily gave my son the password to access the device in cases where he hasn't heard from me for ... a week, maybe. Using the app, it just shows live pictures of my massage chair, with or without me on it. It's not exactly a foolproof system, as I might be on the loo, in bed, doing some gardening or cooking. To be sure, I would need one of the little devices in every room in the house - surveillance gone mad. However, it's something. I trust my son not to watch my every movement, although on Friday nights, when he might come home the worse for wear after an evening with mates in the pub, I give it a wave - and sometimes other signals - every now and again. And I generally make sure that, if engaged in some undesirable 'old man' activity - scratching my armpits, picking my nose, strangling the neighbour's cat or reading the Guardian - I do it in the camera's blind spot (have you found that yet, son?)
Which brings me to Matt Hancock. Does he have a son who has given him one of these devices? If the picture of our esteemed Secretary of State for Health in a meeting with one of his 'closest advisers', in his office, was taken from the office CCTV, why on earth would anyone have CCTV in their office? Is this a government thing; do they all have CCTV? Everyone knows that CCTV can be hacked so it doesn't sound like a great idea. And, if so, did Hancock know he was being watched? What a fecking eejut. First rule of being surveilled: find the blind spot.
I believe this is the system which the civil service had installed in the Prime Minster's office:
Note to Hancock's kids: you can get one of these neat little devices on Amazon for about £20; when's his birthday?
It might be too late by the time this is published.
He comes from a long line of bald or balding leaders, including Lenin, Khrushchev, Andropov and Gorbachev. Interestingly the alternating leaders - Stalin, Brezhnev, Chernenko and Yeltsin - has good heads of hair. If you are interested in betting on the identity of the next Russian President, make sure he or she is hairy.
