The winner of October's Do It Like Prescott award ...

... is Labour MP Mike Amesbury. I found out about this pugilist politician from a feature on my Samsung Galaxy Tab tablet. On the home screen of this handy device, it displays the icons of the main apps I have chosen to put there. Swiping to the right brings up additional screens that I have created. Swiping to the left, however, brings up a page curated by Google in which they display various snippets culled from newspapers, websites, YouTube etc of topics which they think might interest me. They have never actually bothered to ask me what I would like to see but it is mostly relevant so I tolerate it.

 

This is a bit from tonight's offering and my attention was immediately drawn, not to the story of the fisticuffs but those dangling dots, the ellipsis, at the end of the unfinished strapline. Google does this because it wants to jam in as much content as it can onto the screen.  As a result, the most fascinating part of the story has been cropped. 

I could, I suppose, click on the picture and read the details. Sky News would undoubtedly fill in the gaps in a moment.  I could search online for additional information. But that is not the Ramblings way. We work with what we are given. Mr Amesbury punched a man in... in what? This, gentle reader, is what we shall ponder.

This is like one of those smug Radio 4 panel games where the jovial host invites his guests to finish the sentence in the most risible fashion they can concoct, with ensuing hilarity all round. But I need no guests. Here are a few of my suggestions

Mike Amesbury punched a man in ....

• A fit of jealousy
• The saloon bar of the Dog and Duck, Runcorn (his constituency, if you didn't know)
• his dressing gown [Mr Amesbury's or that of his antagonist? Ed]
• the early hours of Saturday morning,
• spite of them having just enjoyed a man-hug and a bag of crisps on the pier at Blackpool
• lieu of accepting the rent on the allotment of which Mr Amesbury is the owner
• order to prove to some doubters that he "still had it in him"
• time to the fast movement of Elgar's Cello Concerto
• a senseless act of violence to draw attention to the lack of police on the streets

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

Readers! Can you do better in our "What did Mike Amesbury punch a man in?" competition. Send in your entries to the usual address enclosing a stamped but not addressed envelope²  The winners of the funniest comments will be given the chance to meet Stephen Fry!³   The Editor's decision, should he ever get around to making one, which, quite frankly, is a bit of a long shot given one thing and another, is about as final as it is likely to get unless anyone else wants to step in.

Terms and Conditions apply, although the only one that matters is our disclaimer for being responsible for anything.

Footnotes:

1. John Prescott won undying fame for his duel with an egg-throwing voter in the 2001 General Election.
2. Don't bother writing your address on it, we won't be sending it back , but any stamps that can be steamed off will go to the "Pay the Ramblings Editor a living wage "appeal.
3. We will notify you of the country, and if possible, the city, that Mr Fry is believed to be staying in and supply a weblink to a travel agency from which you may obtain tickets for travel. We are, sadly, not able to assist in the financing of any arrangements you may make, nor can we guarantee that Mr Fry will be there, or that he will consent to meeting you if you should happen to be in his immediate vicinity, nor that his bodyguard will not "do an Amesbury" on you if you do rush up saying "I won the Ramblings contest".

Aurora Sensation or not, as the case may be

 I had thought that the idiocy of local news stories featuring enticing headlines, followed by little more than what we serious journalists call "utter bilge", had reached its nadir with the big cat that wasn't story that featured a few weeks ago. How wrong I was! [Good strapline that, I shall save it for future use: Ed].

Today's snippet must rank amongst the most utterly pointless uses of a news medium since, I don't know, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle straplined "Monk finds Holy Grail" and followed it up with "According to a man who claims his neighbour heard about it from a passing minstrel who said his brother-in-law definitely heard a rumour about it at the Winchester Fair from a man called Ethelbert the Liar". We are used to finding garbage from the garbage websites mostly operated by Reach but this is worse. It was on the BBC website. And not the entertainment section either but the BBC News!! [Yes, two whole exclamation marks there and I utterly concur with their use on this occasion, and damn the expense: Ed]

Here it is. I've cut all bar the first sentence of the copy and that is more than enough, believe me.

source: BBC

This is the entire story, bar some stuff about how she went onto social media that is of no consequence. The BBC news department regarded "slightly disappointed" as good enough to record the incident for posterity and to take up valuable disk space on their servers.

There might have been a decent story here. Suppose the content was something like this:

The woman, aged 53, with three childen and a gerbil, became so distraught with worry after telling all her friends on social media about the wonderful aurora that she has left her family home, taken up residence in a beach hut near Sheringham and has changed her name to Boudicca the Unforgiven. She has vowed never to speak again until either seven years have elapsed or she receives an apology and a year's supply of tomatoes from the factory, and has launched a website called FakeAuroras.co.uk which has already attracted no fewer than 14 visitors, including two from Canada who have written supportive messages that they frequently mistake the lights from the local disco as being messages from space aliens.

As it happens, she was just "slightly disappointed". Come on, George King (and when you fill official forms that have the surname first, does it seem odd naming yourself after a monarch?). Not "massively" or "overwhelmingly" or the ever-popular "incredibly" but just a little bit, hardly at all really, in fact she's already forgotten the whole thing, or would have had not a journalist with absolutely nothing to do and a deadline to fill stumbled over her Facebook page and thought "This is it, Georgie-boy, this is the big one, next stop Panorama and look out Amol Rajan, I'm coming for you". Now the whole sorry episode has come back to haunt her and her name is being plastered over the media (but not in this column because we respect the identy of innocent citizens plagued and pilloried by the paparazzi) [I had one of those last night, the cheese was a bit off if you ask me: Ed].

How easy it would be for me to create a few bitingly-satiric spoof pieces such as "Red traffic light changes to green and utterly baffles pensioner" or "Local footballer misses a pass and fans regret it" or "Two teenagers went into a shop to buy something but it wasn't in stock, although it had been last week". I don't think I will. I don't think I can outdo the inanity of the original.

Implausability Corner #2 - The Merger

 This month's award for the most blatently self-serving load of PR flummery to be heard for a long time goes, by huge popular acclaim, to the spokesman for Vodafone. The mobile comms giant wishes to merge with another massive company, Three, to form a conglomerate that will have something like half of the UK mobile phone market.

Naturally there are concerns that this is an attempt to stifle the market and use economies of scale to drive others out of business, significantly reducing competition and enabling the directors to give themselves huge salary boosts plus bonuses because they will now be directing a much bigger enterprise than before. Oh, and presumably profits will have to go up to justify whatever the cost of the merger is, and in an essentially static market place there is only way for that to happen (and I'm not talking about cutting portion size in the middle-managers' canteen).

The Competition and Markets Authority has provisionally concluded the proposal would weaken competition. Good spot guys, but lose several house points for the weasel-like chickening out of "provisional" [erm, weaselly and chickening in the same phrase. I don't like it, I don't like it one little bit: Ed]

 Naturally the big boys of telecomms took their fight to the airwaves and I caught the interview on the morning broadcast on the BBC

Vodafone's CEO for European Markets, Ahmed Essam, told the Today programme, on BBC Radio 4, that he still believed the merger would make a better network for customers, and add to the competition in the market.
source: BBC

 Well he would, wouldn't he? There has never been a merger in history that has increased competition. The entire purpose of mergers is to reduce it without the economically efficient way of being better than the others. Because a merger does it quickly whereas actually being better and gradually atracting business through lower prices, better network coverage and better customer service ¹ takes time and requires taking risks. Although this is supposed to be what competitive markets are all about, the Vodafone/Three tie-up is all about cutting risks so that their future investment has a guaranteed customer base.

But the Vodafone CEO says it will add to competition, and sure he is an honourable man. 

There is one potential technical justification for the claim. If a very dominant player already controlled the market, and this merger would create a business sufficiently strong to challenge it, then there might be good reason for approval. But the mergees² already have the market in their grip. Does this in Vodafone seem like competition? But Mr Essam says it will increase competition and he is an honourable man, so all they are all, all honourable men. 

I suppose I must declare an interest. I am indirectly a customer of Three, via a reseller called Smarty who, for a very small amount of monthly cash, give me all the minutes, texts and internet data I could wish for, and throw in European roaming as well.  I am a little nervous that this happy state of affairs may not last once the merger goes a little sour, as they usually do, and costs far more than expected to make a single system of the two existing ones, as invariably happens, and the shareholders begin shifting uneasily in their seats at AGMs and things begin to be said about whether the merger was delivering all that had been promised. But by then, no doubt, Mr Essam and his chums will have taken their massive bonuses for making it happen and it really won't be their problem at all. It will be ours, the consumers.

Footnotes:

1. This was never going to happen, comments of forums such as on Reddit make it very clear how awful it is

 2. Do you like it? I may launch a Kickstealer campaign for a book called "My 100 best neologisms" if there is enough support.

Carry On Larking

 In a wonderful instance of life imitating art, this recent story in the papers seems to show that when it comes to having a rollicking good wheeze at the expense of the taxpayer, nobody competes with the Senior Service. Of course, when I say "art", I really mean the glorious British tradition of comic film, tv and radio where no institution is sacred.

source: The Independent

We've seen them dealing with a nasty leak. We've followed them into the war-torn waters of the Gulf. It looks like we need to go round again.

Scene: The choppy waters of the English Channel somewhere near, but conveniently out of sight of, Portsmouth. The bridge of a certain warship seems remarkably quiet as the officers go professionally about their duties, hunched over their instruments.

CPO Pertwee:  (to himself). Come on, come on, just a little bit more ...ease it off there ...that's got it just where I want it, lovely.
Sub-lieutenant Phillips: (to himself) I say, jolly well done, straight back over the bowler's head.
Distorted voice over loudspeaker Lookout here. Boat approaching, looks like the commander with some other geezer.
Pertwee: Oo-er, he's back early.
Phillips: I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, chief. Probably giving a friend a joy ride.
Distorted voice. Just to let you know, the Commander's friend is wearing rather a lot of pips. And carrying a clipboard
Pertwee: I'm not sure about this, Mr Philips, not sure at all, sir. Perhaps we should make ourselves scarce.
Phillips: Yes, chief, good idea and all that but, correct me if I'm wrong, aren't we supposed to be on watch?
Pertwee: Watching out for ourselves is what we should be doing right now, sir
Bosun's whistle heralds return of Commander Murray and guest
Pertwee: Whoops, too late
Murray: Through here, sir. You'll find my officers hard at work and totally in control. Gentlemen, this is Commodore Chumbleton, very high up in Naval Intelligence. Nothing gets past you, eh, Commodore?
Phillips: (sotto voce). Oh, lummee
Chumbleton: Just carry on as usual gentlemen. I'm just reviewing our state of readiness for, well, anything really, we haven't the faintest idea what might take place, anything can happen at sea, what, what, what.
Pertwee: What?
Chumbleton: That's the spirit. Now then, CPO, that screen looks jolly interesting. Seems to be some of wiring diagram - what's this say here "Plan of security lock, Atkinson's Jewellers". Well, I'm sure you have a perfectly sound reason for examining it, but isn't this supposed to be the short-wave radar screen thingy?
Murray: Yes, chief, I seem to recall we did used to have a short wave radar screen but, um, there's a  really important reason why we don't. Perhaps you could remind us.
Pertwee: Being tested, sir. In the special bay. Where the radioactivity levels are up dangerously high, so you really don't want to go anywhere near that, sir. This screen here is a medium wave radar replacement, nuffink like as risky as the other, just happens to be tuned to a frequency that matches the jeweller's computers and so of course their lock details get displayed.
Chumbleton: I see. Yes, that makes perfect sense. And the sub-lieutenant ...
Murray: Phillips, sir
Chumbleton: Phillips. I'm no expert, I leave that sort of thing to my technical people, but that looks very much like a cricket match.
Phillips: I know. It's amazing. And we managed to rig it up without having to pay a subsc...I mean, it's some of interference on the VHF band...er, isn't it, chief?
Pertwee: Yes, sir, these systems are so sophisticated they can pick up television channels, like Netflix or Sky, and display them even while doing all the rest of the normal navy stuff sort of in the background.
Chumbleton: Are you saying that is the tactical weapons status screen? Why don't you fix it?
Phillips: Well sir, to be frank, all those numbers going up and down the screen give me a bit of a headache.
Chumbleton: Must admit, I get them as well. So everything is perfectly alright here, then?
Phillips: Tickety-boo, sir.
Pertwee: Everything is just as it normally is, sir.
Murray: Shall we have a pink gin in the officers' mess now, sir? You certainly don't want Mr Phillips to change the channel and start all those little squiggly things dancing up and down, not in these rough seas.
Chumbleton: Lead on, Commander Murray.

Ketchup on your locket, madam?

 There are some key cultural moments, tectonic shifts in the zeitgeist, quantum leaps in the social consciousness (insert other portentous phrases here) that must be documented. This, future historians (that is, historians in the future looking back, not historians who study the future in some weird time-reversal universe),will say is the point at which things changed. The divide that reshaped the lives of all who, in some ways, were touched by it. 

This column has from time to time brought some of these to light - the "artist" whose work comprised burying himself under ground over the weekend and the creation of the British Toast Association to name but two. Today we can add, without hesitation, the announcement by the much-loved baker Greggs that they are to commemorate some of the nation's favourite snacks in the form of jewellery.

Source: Greggs

The "Baked in Gold" range features earrings. lockets, bracelets and rings that resemble miniature sausage rolls and pasties, in genuine fake imitation faux 22 carrot caret gold. Whether the interiors of these pieces can be heated to the 1100c of the products handed out over the counter to hungry punters, who spend the next ten minutes going "Oww" as they juggle them from hand to hand, is not yet known.  Nor is it clear if they will shed little gold-like flakes of pseudo pastry to stick to your jumper.

Greggs have announced, in what appears to be a genuine blurb rather than some belated April Fool japery, that the range is to be launched this coming Friday in time for London Fashion Week. Here at Ramblings we always investigate the claims of advertisers and our crack team of news-sleuths have already unearthed the following astonishing facts.

Fact: London Fashion Week begins on 12 September. Greggs are launching "Baked in Gold" on Friday 13th. Why the delay? Could the launch date be a clue? Is this going to be another Ratners - Prawn Sandwich event?

Fact: London Fashion Week has a number of sponsors. As is now customary with such things, some of them are the usual big companies whose products have absolutely nothing to do with the event (think World Cup / Olympics). Thus we find Coke and 1664 as sponsors, products that are neither fashionable, avant garde or new. But, and I want the jury to pay particular attention to this point, Greggs are not listed as a sponsor. We are not to see a line of haughty models swishing up and down the catwalks with little golden sausage rolls dangling from strategic places. Surely the PR department has bungled. Or are they, quite rightly, keeping a low profile instead?

It would appear that there is no connection with London Fashion Week and they might just as well have linked it to the race meeting at Sandown Park, the Worcester music festival or the welcome home party for Britain's paralympians.

However, inevitably, we must consider if this is the start of a trend. Who will follow the path so boisterously blazed by the beaconing bakers? 

Perhaps the Egg Industry Council could create an exqusite pair of pearl-style earrings in the shape of eggs, each adorned with a hand-painted lion mark in brilliant blue.

Every smartly-dressed male commuter would certainly wish to be able to flash a pair of Return Ticket cufflinks, with the words "not eligible before 9:30" visible under a microscope.

And surely any fashionista would proudly sport a sequin-studded tie pin in the shape of a prawn sandwich, by Ratners. If only they still existed.