Brian Micklethwait's Blog
In which I continue to seek part time employment as the ruler of the world.Home
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- To Tottenham (1): A fine day (especially for scaffolding)
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- Somebody needs to invent electronically changeable paint
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- What indeed?
- Sunlight on sea
- Some more lighthouses for 6k
- Views from Waterlow Park
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6000 Miles from Civilisation
A Decent Muesli
Adventures in Capitalism
Alex Ross: The Rest Is Noise
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Antoine Clarke's Election Watch
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Burning Our Money
Chase me ladies, I'm in the cavalry
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Category archive: Healthcare
I’ve already shown a very similar picture of this building …:
… at this blog, in this posting. The above photo is only very slightly different, in that it includes the Spraycan on the right, but excludes the Walkie-Talkie. Also, I was able to compose it because I was on the platform of Battersea Park station, rather than in a train and just taking a chance.
I show another shot of this thing, because, well, I just like it. There’s something about the way it gets lighter at the top, and how photos of this thing end up looking like they’ve been faked up by an architect’s office before the thing has even been built. Photos of it don’t look real. They look like Photoshop.
When I started doing this posting, I had it in mind for tomorrow (which is a busy day), having already done a rather perfunctory posting about a cat, Friday being my day for cat-blogging. But it turns out that this blue building is also all about cats and other creatures. I tried googling it for that earlier posting, without success. But I just gave that another go, this time typing “"blue new building Battersea” or some such word combo into the great computer in the sky, and this time it worked. This blue building is the recently opened Battersea Dogs (and now also Cats) Home Veterinary Clinic & Centre of Excellence.
Blog and learn.
Sunday was a good photography day. After lunching with a friend in the Waterloo area, I made my way, as reported yesterday, to the Tate Modern Extension. When up at the top of this I took many photos, and some quite good photos.
But none, for me, was better than this, which I spied just before getting into the lift from Floor 10 back to the ground:
I can’t remember exactly when the change happened from plaster casts to … that, but happen it did, and I am impressed. I’m guessing that one of the many advantages of this system is that you can take it off and put it back on again, to do things like assess progress, or deal with skin discomforts.
I’m further guessing that you can dismantle one of these things, give it a good wash, and then use it again.
More from me on the subject of plastic and its newly devised applications in this at Samizdata earlier today.
Photoed in January of this year. from the top of the tower of Westminster Cathedral:
The Parliament website says that the tower above, the big one with lots of pointy bits, is called the Victoria Tower, but I’ve never heard it called that. For me, it’s the Big Parliament Tower.
Anyway, whatever you call it, there it is, with the Shard beside and behind. Very sweet alignment, I hope you will agree.
While categorising this posting, I had to check the picture to see if there are any cranes. Of course there are cranes. In shots like this, there are always cranes.
There are also two major London hospitals in the shot. On the left St Thomas’s Hospital (the building on which it says “St Thomas’s Hospital"), on the far side of the river. On the right, further away, bigger, next to the Shard, Guy’s.
I have been slightly ill for quite a while now. About three weeks. Not properly ill, just slightly ill.
One of the symptoms of being ill is that I don’t like coffee. Normally, I do like coffee. But when ill, I don’t. And for some reason the experience of being slightly ill has thrown this effect into sharp relief. Every morning for the last few weeks, I have asked myself: do I want coffee? Each morning, I have said to myself: yes, I do. Not as much as I do when healthy, but I still want it, more than I don’t want it.
This is because I am mostly well, but a bit ill. Mostly, I still want coffee, but I slightly don’t. Because I am slightly ill.
Maybe it is the constant decision making which has made me so very aware of this equation, that being healthy means I can drink coffee, but that being ill means I don’t.
What this shows is that there is a definite connection between regular coffee drinking and a healthy lifestyle. But, for me at least and probably for quite a few others, the causal arrow goes in the opposite direction to the one usually assumed.
Every so often, Instapundit does a posting about how coffee is good for your health. Drink three cups of coffee every morning and live to be ninety five, that kind of thing. The clear implication is that it is the coffee that is causing you to live so long.
My surmise is that this is wrong. Your healthiness is what is causing you to be so healthy that you live to be ninety five, and your healthiness also causes you to drink lots of coffee. You drink it because you can. You are healthy!
Sickly people, the sort who die younger, cannot stomach coffee. But it is their sickliness that kills them, not their failure to drink coffee.
I can’t be the first person to say all this. I am slightly ill, and so can’t be bothered to search out all the other people who say such things. But, I bet they are out there.
I’ve been suffering from something a lot like hay fever. Yesterday, the doctor gave me some anti-hay-fever spray to spray it with, up my nose, which I hate. My symptoms are: aches and pains that wander around all over the left side of my head. I knew you’d be excited.
But, from the same doctor who wants me to spray chemical effluent up my nose I learned that if you get something stuck in your throat, which is what set all this off, they recommend: coca cola. I did not know that. So last night, when I went out for drinks, someone offered me a drink, and I though, no I’ve had enough (what with the headaches and so forth), but then I thought: yes, get me a coca cola. Apparently it clears out stuff in your throat by dissolving it. How come it doesn’t dissolve your entire mouth? (Maybe it does.) But whatever, it felt like it worked, and I’m drinking more coke now.
Last night, at that drinks gathering, I heard something else diverting.
We were having a coolness competition. What’s the coolest thing you’ve done lately? That kind of thing. I contributed the fact that my niece is about to become the published author of a work of crime fiction, which is not bad, and which I will surely be saying more about when this book materialises. It will be published by a real publisher, with an office in London and a name you’ve heard of, which intends to make money from the book and thinks it might. More about that when I get to read it. I usually promise nothing but I do promise that, here or somewhere I’ll link to from here. It would be a lot cooler if it was me who had accomplished this myself, but it is pretty cool even from a moderately close relative.
But another friend from way back whom I hadn’t seen for years trumped this, with something which in my opinion made him the winner, not least because he did the thing in question himself.
Remember the Concorde crash in Paris, back whenever it was, just before 9/11. And remember how the other Concordes all got grounded for ever after that crash. What you may not recall quite so clearly is that the other Concordes were not grounded for ever immediately after the crash. That only happened a few weeks later. And my friend told us that he took a trip on Concorde, on the day after the Concorde crash. How cool is that? Very, I would say. There were many cancellations, apparently, but he was made of sterner stuff, which is all part of what made it so cool.
I know, a bit of a ramble. It comes of me being somewhat ill. Illnesses can be cool, I suppose. But this one, which is just uncomfortable enough to be uncomfortable, but which hasn’t actually stopped me from doing things, merely from doing them energetically and enthusiastically, definitely isn’t cool.
I must have walked past it a hundred times, from Currys PC World and on my way down Tottenham Court Road towards to Maplins, seeking blank DVDs and plastic DVD sleeves. But yesterday I actually noticed it. Above a back alley called Beaumont Place, just before it arrives at the back entrance of University College Hospital, there is a a footbridge:
A rather strange one. Hospitals often have these little footbridges, connecting the Somethingtrics Department to the Somethingology Ward, or whatever, so medics and more to the point patients, don’t have to go down to ground level and into the big outdoors.
But unlike many such bridges, which were clearly added years after the original buildings were erected, this one looks to have been part of the original design, to attach the new green building to the older dark grey and boxy building. (Form, as is usual with Modern Architecture, is following fashion as well as function.)
What is that strange lump on one side of it, on the bottom? And what’s with the big sticking-out dark grey and boxy bit that the bridge is attached to?
That strange curved pointy thing, to be seen in the left hand picture behind the bridge, sticks out high above over that back entrance. Perhaps the idea was to draw attention to the entrance, but if so, it contributes very little along those lines. Having the words “University College Hospital” and below that, in bigger letters, the word “Entrance” , does that job far better. Aside from being physically pointy, the high-up pointy thing just looks pointless. But maybe it has some other more meaningful purpose.
Today I attended the Libertarian Home Benevolent Laissez-Faire Conference. Here is the text of the opening speech by conference organiser Simon Gibbs. And here is a selection of the photos I took, of the event and of the speakers:
Conference programme here.
1.1: An attender. 1.2: The venue, very good, with a big side window looking out to a small basement level garden. 1.3: Syed Kamall. 1.4 and 2.1: Janina Lowisz and one of her slides. 2.2, 2.3 and 2.4: Julio Alejandro. 3.1: Simon Gibbs and Yaron Brook. 3.2: Brook. 3.3: Kyril and Rob helping with the books. 3.4: LH info, lit up by the afternoon sun through the window. 4.1: Anton Howes. 4.2: Howes and Brook. 4.3 and 4.4: Gibbs, Alejandro, Howes, Brook.
A Getting Old thing is that you take longer to get well, after not being well. On Sunday, I dined. I was not poisoned (this has been established), but I did catch a bug (ditto). On Monday, I ate some more, as you do. Early on Tuesday morning the bug, having been operating in a clandestine fashion from Sunday evening onwards, stirred itself into detectable action, and it became clear that everything I had eaten from Sunday evening onwards was … not needed. It was either returned from whence it had come or else fast-tracked through, if you get my drift. So, this morning, I had basically been starving for nearly two days. Today, I consequently felt weak. Had I been young, I would have been up and sparkling this morning. Today I managed to eat something, or at any rate swallow something, and let us all hope that my body is able to make some use of it, because if it doesn’t, I will have been starving for the best part of a week. Are all those noises in my stomach my stomach making use of what I have put into it, or my stomach rejecting what I have put into it? I have to believe that it is food processing that I am hearing rather than food rejection. But even if that’s right, it is taking more time to recover from this damn illness than it was to have it.
A particular result of all this starvation, aside from feeling rather starved, is that my mind/body is seems to have decided to prioritise in the warming department. The upper body is still considered by my mind/body to be worth keeping warm, but my feet are apparently superfluous to requirements and are accordingly being allowed to freeze. If I put on a fire, my upper body stews. If I turn off the fire, my feet freeze. I guess the mind/body figures I’ve not been using my feet much lately, so what’s the point in keeping them warm, given that fuel is so scarce just now?
I am starting to understand why Old People put their feet on top of hot water bottles, or in bowls of hot water.
People probably do tell you this sort of stuff when you are young, but being young, you don’t really take it in.
The good news is that although no fire has been on, my feet have now warmed up. While I was writing this. Do you suppose that my mind/body actually paid attention to what I was saying to you people? There’s a thought.
LATER: No. I cooked an omelette and that was what warmed my feet. This also, it soon became clear, had also stewed my upper body.
Sickness and sunset
How things like 3D printed blood vessels may be improving education in rich countries
Antoine Clarke on herding drunk cats
White van reflexology
It continues (well)
Cat picture on white van
Ed Smith on sporting maturity – Burns and Henriques collide – Secretariat and his jockey
Bloody Enrique Iglesias drone drama
What are those things on her hands?
Big cat scan
Scandinavia comes out on top according to the HDI …
Was Guy’s Tower a key building in the architectural history of London?
In the City with Gus
The uniqueness of our microbiome
Smaller Old Thing in front of Big New Things
Broad thrives properly on getting abuse
On the insecurity of ObamaCare - and on the unwisdom of only punishing big and later
Dezeen continues to delight
Pain in the midriff
Algernon Sidney sends for Micklethwait because Micklethwait is wise, learned, diligent, and faithful
Stuart Broad has a kitten heel
Bad times for the NHS
Doctor Theatre - here very briefly but now there
The Jobs difference
Another reason to like Colorado
BM.com quote of the day
Animals that like the smell of humans dying
Potential dental interruption
Jobs departs from Apple (again)
A laptop but not in my lap
A down and up weekend
Why does a coffee lover not want coffee when he’s ill?
Another strangely punctuated headline and a depressing television play
Shard sitings and and an agreeably honest rabies prevention sign
Green cat email mystery solved
Unusual leg extension
Getting well soon
Those angry Americans
More sign photos
France falls in love with Hugh Laurie
Philippa Micklethwait - the Eulogy
Nothing from me here today but something on Samizdata about cannabis
The shadow of Shipman – and forgetting things
Philippa Micklethwait (1914-2009)
“Dying is a fulltime business. You haven’t time to do a lap of honour.”
The impossibility of God but the possibility of Michael Flatley’s cure and of super-super-flees
Do not read this if you prefer all epigrams about getting well to be tasteful
When the carer needs to be cared for
To Guy’s with Gerald
Man regrows finger
Why it helps to be exposed to the lower classes and to dogs when you are young
Cuba before Communism
Moore versus Stossel on Cuban medical care
The robotic future
The cat genome is cool
An education link
A dreadful age
There ain’t no such thing as a free NHS
End the medical monopoly!
Adriana and Ivan in Addis
The (very) slow fade of Bolshevik Cuba
Today I ate something that disagreed with me
Irrelevant heart attack adverts
Antoine Clarke and I don’t talk about elections
Patrick Crozier talks with me about Japan