Brave New World Pt 2

Oh, historic day! I will look back on todays date and tell my children that this was the day it all changed.
"I was perusing some online news when I was struck by not one, not two, but three items of earth shattering importance. Firstly, President Obama's plan for a nuclear-free world was outlined,where he pledged a nuclear disarmament drive greater than any previously attempted and called for a ban on nuclear testing. I thought of Tsutomu Yamaguchi, the 93 year old Japanese man who survived both Hiroshima and Nagasaki and what he would make of it all. And I could see old footage scrolling before my eyes of CND hippies waving their placards in glee.
Secondly, I read that changes to UK law coming into force today allow parents with children under the age of sixteen to request flexible working from employers who are obliged to "seriously consider" any application and only reject it if there are "good business reasons for doing so". It's woolly, and only extends the law previously applied to parents of children under the age of six, but it heralds a new era for parents in the UK, who have suffered more than their European counterparts who have more holidays, fiesta days and time off with family. We want repsonsible teenagers then we expect them to become so without their parents influence, without time to talk through their issues? Roll on four day weeks and home-working and part-time hours for realistic pay.
But thirdly, and most spangly of all, today sees the official return of the Puffin Post."
I know there are adults the world over gasping and dashing to their desks to drag out dog-eared copies of that most-beloved magazine. The Puffin Post was around from the 1960's to 1980's to trumpet the latest childrens books from the publisher but also to provide a forum for book-mad kids everywhere to discuss, review and discover books and their authors. I was gobsmacked to receive a prize when they published one of my poems (aged 11 and three-quarters) and drove my mum mad harping on about it. I still have the edition with my masterpiece in. Wonderful rhyme and alliteration of 'mangold root' and 'mouldy old boot', and some inspired raving about witches that JKRowling no doubt plaguarised. I am thrilled to see its return just as my 10 year old daughter enters her book-obsessed years ( - a subscription will sort out her next birthday present perfectly.)
So, for anyone languishing in bed this morning without reason to be bold or brave, take heart from these global changes and kick-start your own renaissance.

Think like a winner?

A writer on LinkedIn's Spanish Connections group posted the following parable about the current global condition. Fow my Spanish readers here is the original and what follows is my poor attempt at translation (apologies Jérôme!)

Albóndigas con pan

Había una vez una persona que vivía al lado de una carretera donde vendía unas ricas albóndigas con pan. Estaba muy ocupado y por lo tanto no oía radio, no leía los periódicos ni veía la televisión. Alquiló un trozo de terreno, colocó una gran valla y anunció su mercancía gritando a todo pulmón:
"Compren deliciosas albóndigas calientes".
Y la gente se las compraba. Aumentó la adquisición de pan y carne. Compró un terreno más grande para poder ocuparse de su negocio, y trabajó tanto que dispuso que su hijo dejara la Universidad donde estudiaba Ciencias Comerciales a fin de que le ayudara.
Sin embargo, ocurrió algo muy importante; su hijo le dijo: "Viejo, ¿tú no escuchas la radio, ni lees los periódicos...?. Estamos sufriendo una grave crisis!. La situación es realmente mala; peor no podría estar!!".
El padre pensó: "Mi hijo estudia en la Universidad, lee los diarios, ve televisión y escucha la radio. Debe saber mejor que yo lo que está pasando..."
Compró entonces menos pan y menos carne. Sacó la valla anunciadora, dejo el alquiler del terreno con el fin de eliminar los gastos y ya no anunció sus ricas albóndigas con pan. Y las ventas fueron disminuyendo cada día más.
"Tenías razón hijo mío", le dijo al muchacho. "Verdaderamente estamos sufriendo una gran crisis".

MORALEJA
No sigamos hablando de crisis.
Hablemos sólo de hacer buenos negocios, buenos trabajos y buenas tareas.
Si nos programamos para fracasar, fracasaremos.
Si nos mentalizamos para ganar, ganaremos.
Es una simple elección personal.

¿Qué piensa hacer para ser un GANADOR?

English version
Meatballs with bread

There was once a person that lived next to a highway where a stall sold rich meatballs with bread. The vendor was very busy and therefore not listening to radio, or reading the newspapers or watching television much. He had rented a piece of land, placed a great sign on the fence and announced his merchandise shouting at the top of his lungs: "Buy delicious hot meatballs!" and people bought them. Doing so, they enlarged his bread and meat market. Then he bought a larger piece of land to be able to develop his business, and worked so hard that his son left University where he studied Commercial Sciences in order to help him. However, something very important occurred; his son told him: "Old man, ¿you do not listen the radio, nor read the newspapers. ..? We are suffering a serious crisis!. The situation is really bad; it could not be worse!!". The father thought: "My son studies in the University, he reads the newspapers, sees television and listens to the radio. He must know better than I what is happening. ..” So he bought less bread and less meat. He removed the fence sign, abandoned the rent of the land in order to eliminate some expenses and no longer announced his rich meatballs with bread to the world from the top of his lungs. And the sales were indeed diminishing each day. "You were right my son", he told the boy. "Truly we are suffering a great crisis".

MORAL: Do not continue speaking of crisis. We must speak only of good business, good works and good tasks. If we plan for failure, we will fail. If we prepare ourselves mentally to win, we will win. This is a simple personal decision.

What do you think YOU should do to be a WINNER?

It's so true

Forgive me for repeating this quote here:
"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."
-- Lazarus Long, Time Enough For Love, Robert Heinlein

Similarly, a writer should try everything once (bar the obvious or deadly) so that he or she can write about it with conviction. So consider that I may be embarking on a new programme to fill in the gaps in my knowledge and I will return to this blog when I am worthy of Heinlein's character's quote.

Six Impossible Things

I like to believe in impossible things, and as a fan of Lewis Carroll, I aim to believe in at least six before breakfast. Uncorrupt judges, my life made into a movie starring at least one of Meryl Streep's daughters, free lunches, public demand producing a hilarious yet educational videogame, first contact, a worthy Eurovision song contest winner...my scope is boundless.

Of the first, uncorrupt judges. I cannot go into detail but a friend's future may hang in the balance based on a judges decision. This is not something I want to be flippant about. Suufice it to say that this began the thoughtstream that led me to think six impossible things.

It is easily possible that my life story will interest one of the Streep daughters. Especially if she spends any time being educated in the UK and learns some God-awful swear words which she needs to put into practise. And if Parminder Nagra hasn't used them all up on ER. So less than impossible, but no nearer to likely.

Free lunches are only reputedly impossible. I have had some. Good ones. With free Margaritas on the side. (A long while ago, but thank you Clint Mansell.)

The educational fun videogames I think are but a nanosecond away from becoming reality, especially as I commented about them on the Guardian website this morning. But I admit this was actually during, not before, breakfast. So that scrapes in by a hair's breadth.

First contact. Is it impossible if it may have already happened but due to a Government cover-up we are all sublimely unaware of it? I think this counts. And if my plot for The Answer sees the light of day as a movie, I can dispense with first contact and a whole barrel of other firsts, so believing in it is not such a stretch as it might seem.

Which leaves only the worthy Eurovision winner. Saved the best til last. This will not happen til Hell freezes over, and the Devil gets matching lilac leg warmers and fingerless gloves. So I can happily go on believing in it, impossibly, and keep Lewis Carroll chipper too.

My favourite headline

Some days you are down and dreary. The world is heavy and you feel weary.

Then you read a Guardian headline that says:

2 March 2009: Morphs made by over 200 fans of Tony Hart form a flash mob of tiny plasticine figures on the ground outside the Tate Modern

...and all's right with the world! How can your spirits fail to lift when an iconic TV series of your childhood inspires such life-affirming behaviour. In grown adults.