Just the facts.....

Fact: (n.) 1. Knowledge or information based on real occurences. 2. Something demonstrated to exist or known to have existed.

These definitions of the word fact are the definitions I personally have been familiar with since I learned the word. The exact time I became educated in the concept of "facts" is lost to me in the hazy mist of half recollection but I know for certain (or for a fact if you prefer) that I've known about what constitutes a fact for more than two decades.

I'm also aware it is a word misused and abused regularly by people trying to add weight to a flimsy argument by mindlessly and arbitrarily using it in conjunction with half baked, groundless notions frequently gleaned from tabloid newspapers. Phrases such as "The fact is, immigrants are coming over here, stealing our jobs and defrauding our benefits system." are commonplace in such arguments and are a blatant misappropriation of the term. The fact is, you read some nonsense in a tabloid and assumed it to be true before regurgitating it as your own opinion at a later junction to make people think you are informed.

Never before today, however, have I experienced such a grotesquely blatant abuse of the word fact.

If you live in the Inverness area then there is a high probability you have a copy of the 100th edition of that free publication of dubious quality, the ICA. If you do, lay it face down on a stable level surface then (including the back cover) turn four pages. This should leave you looking at a full page advert (handily this is pointed out at the top of the page for those who would mistake it for journalism) entitled "Facts are Stubborn Things".

Now, there is a good chance you don't have a copy of the 100th issue of the ICA or that you no longer have it as you have used it in lieu of toilet paper or otherwise disposed of it in a careful manner. Fear not, for I will summarise said advert for the benefit of critical analysis. Brace yourselves, we are in for a bumpy ride.

"WAR is a fact." This is the proud proclamation of paragraph one (under a photograph of a lady with her fingers in her ears). "You can doubt, disbelieve and deny there were world wars but the thousands of crosses spotting the cemeteries of the world cry out these were wars. Facts are stubborn things."

Fair enough. Almost. You can doubt, disbelieve and deny there were world wars but the thousands of first hand accounts, pages and pages of documentary evidence, photographs, film and so on proves that they took place. I would say substantially more so than the "crosses" (what about the non-christian casualties?) "spotting" cemeteries. War is a fact though. Or more accurately there were two world wars is a fact. It's a bit of a general statement otherwise. I'm tempted to let them off.

Having been forced to more or less agree with this assertion we move on to paragraph two where we are invited to ponder on the next statement.

"GOD is a fact." Uh oh. "If you were to find an expensive watch lying on the ground, you would not say it just happened. No, it is too intricate; it had to have an intelligent maker. This world is too intricate and complicated to have just happened. God is its Maker, not a "big bang". Admit this fact to yourself - for facts are stubborn things."

Now see what they did there? They read something in a tabloid (in this case The Bible) and because they believe it to be true they are running around asserting it as a fact. The fact (and it is a fact) that the world seems a bit complicated to us is clearly not evidence of any kind that there is an omnipotent universal designer. The evidence they cite? The Bible. A compiled collection of books, written by human beings over a long period of time, translated, re-translated, edited, adapted, confused and corrupted (all of these are actual facts), not to mention the fact that it is incomplete as there are volumes of scripture that are not included in the "official" canon for whatever reason, the most likely theory being they contradict the aims of organised Christianity and so are deemed heretical. See how I said theory when I was suggesting a possibility as opposed to stating a fact.

There are more paragraphs of more drivel wrongly defined as facts. My favourite is the paragraph "HELL is a fact". The evidence that proves there is actually and actual hell (and a fiery, brimstoney one at that)? "All reason and revelation says men like Hitler did not get their just punishment here. Surely these will not get the same fate after this life as the godly, holy people who accept the Saviour and live for Him."

What?! So, there must be a Hell because otherwise where did Hitler go when he died? Clearly my scepticism has been misplaced. How in the face of such concrete evidence and potent logic can I argue against the existence of Hell? Well for one thing there's the fact that according to Christians God forgives everyone their sins so Hitler wouldn't be in Hell would he, he would be in Heaven. "All reason says.." All reason says Hitler was a bad man, possibly mentally ill, definitely maladjusted and riddled with psychological issues.

I hate it when evangelical Christians appropriate the language of science and reason and apply it to concepts where it doesn't belong. There is a gargantuan gulf between believing something to be true and something actually being true. Fair enough, believe in fairies, but don't bandy around terms like fact and reason and truth when you lack the evidence to prove your so-called facts and truths.

"You can doubt, disbelieve and deny these facts, but that doesn't make them any less true." That's how the "article" ends.

I might be crazy but I'm pretty sure we have an Advertising Standards agency in this country. I feel obligated to investigate if this advert breaches their standards. I'm appalled at the fact the ICA feel it is acceptable to print an advert like this. I'm sure they saw only the amount on the cheque (they don't seem to bother proof reading or fact checking anything else they publish) and didn't stop to consider the content, but when you are producing something that is going to be stuffed through unsuspecting citizens letter boxes you have a responsibility to ensure you are sending accurate unsolicited information into their homes.

As you may have guessed I am not happy about this at all. Between this and the Pope's recent comments on his "state visit" I'm pretty riled up. I am sick to death of getting nonsensical propaganda through my front door from these sorts of groups and so I intend to pursue every avenue open to me to make it more difficult, if not impossible, for them to do so in the future. I encourage you all to do the same. I used to be of a more "live and let live" mindset but I have had enough. I'm not taking it anymore.

The organisation responsible for this is the Culloden Gospel Hall. Their website is: www.cullodengospellhall.com and their address is Culloden Gospel Hall, Keppoch Road, Culloden, Inverness.

I'm not talking hate mail, or anything illegal mind. I was thinking more complaints to the ASA and ICA, stern letters to the organisation, peaceful protests, that sort of thing. I doubt it will make any difference to the blind idiocy of these people but we owe it to ourselves, each other and them to try.

Rant over.

Are you being served?

Idiotic idea number 43: The Self Service Checkout.


It's a phenomenon that contributed to my absolute hatred of Tesco. Abolish the 10 items or less checkouts, replace them with self service ones and save a ton of money by employing less cashiers on your supermarket checkouts.


It's supposed to be convenient. It's supposed to minimise fuss and queues. That's the evil lie that they spin to propagandise us all into using them. The simple truth is it serves only two purposes - reduce the cost to the business of employing checkout operators and increase their margins on their products as this has a pre-figured element to account for the wages of the employee scanning it through the till for you. It's some scam I tell ya.


My issues with this are manifold. First off the bat, I spend my days serving other people in shops. This automatically predisposes me to resent having to put my own shopping through the till. Especially as I get paid to do it at work but am actually paying the supermarket to put my own shopping through the till. Highly offensive. In fact this is probably my biggest complaint about the whole charade. If I got a couple of percent off the cost of my shopping for doing it I would be quite happy to rattle it through myself, in fact I would go out of my way to do so, but at the back of my mind is the thought that by doing the retailer's job for them not only am I saving them money but I'm working for free.

Furthermore, it's not any quicker. Have you ever used one? I'm pretty quick on a till. I should be, I've been using the damn things for half my life (that's 15 years by the way) and take great pride in my transactions per minute. Setting modesty aside for a moment I am a till operating weapon. So you would think that putting my own shopping would be a breeze right? Right? Wrong.

The technology is a little bit hit and miss. Things don't always register properly. "Unrecognised item in the bagging area" messages became incendiary incitements to riot after the third or fourth one. It's not like a machine can deliberately accuse you of stealing but accuse you it does. Then you have to wait to get security tags removed, get your age verified for various products and before you know it you would have been better waiting in the massive queue for the proper checkouts. Happy days. Oh yeah, and don't forget this is technically costing you more money.

These are the obstacles facing the seasoned till operator. These are insignificant compared to the challenges facing the novice.

Today I observed a woman spend a whole minute and a half scanning the price label on the front of a dvd over the laser beam before she realised that she would have to scan the barcode. There is a strong argument to suggest she failed to exercise the most basic of common sense but I find it difficult to lay the blame entirely at her door. After all, she is paying for a professional to carry out this task for her, a task she clearly lacked the experience to perform efficiently. Instead she has been coerced into taking on the responsibility herself. Having worked with the public for a very long time I am extremely aware that a lot of people are intimidated by what seem on the face of it very straightforward and simple things and so for some the process of scanning their own shopping is less of a new and enticing way to shop and more of a Guantanamo style exercise in torture. I know I'd rather be waterboarded for an afternoon than stand in a queue behind six or seven untrained, inexperienced civilians fumbling with a self service checkout. At least it would be over more quickly.

It's all just so frustrating. We used to be a nation of shop keepers. We used to understand and appreciate service. Within the next ten years we will be a nation of vending machines. I suspect part of the problem is that people think they know better these days. The don't think they need expert knowledge. They have access to Google. That's all you need after all. Wikipedia holds the answers. Who needs a decade and a half of experience in a particular field. Just look it up on the internet. This is a particular issue in the frequently underestimated field of retail. Yes it is technically a very simple job. But it is made more complex by the vast array of human responses to the slightest of stimuli. There are subtleties and nuances in customer service. There are judgement calls you have to make and can only really make with a deep enough back catalogue of similar scenarios to call upon.

Machines cannot do this. They have to treat everybody the same. It's in their programming. They can't tell if you are an accomplished till operator or a total novice. They don't care. They can't work from an opening gambit of "I heard this song the other day I can't remember what it was called do you have it?" to a completed sale of the exact song the customer was looking for. Behind every till there should be a skilled operator. If there was a viable third choice of supermarket in Inverness, I would be using it right now on the condition that they didn't have self service checkouts.

It's just not right.

I love it when a plan comes together....

In 1972 a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a high security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-Team.

Few paragraphs evoke such happy childhood memories as these words. As the military drum beat kicks in and that legendary theme swells, I am instantly transported back to Sunday afternoons at my grannies house, watching the A-Team and Monkey (not "Monkey Magic" as it is irritatingly and very incorrectly called by some people). Happy, happy times.

It's one of the few tv shows from my childhood than I can actually watch now. Oddly enough Monkey is another, but when I try and watch say, Manimal, Airwolf, Knight Rider, Streethawk or any of their contemporaries I'm generally slightly appalled that I used to watch them. They are frequently tragically bad in almost every respect to the point that even nostalgia can't save them.

For some reason the A-Team has endured the ravages of time. Even as I type this I have season 4 on DVD playing in the background. It's an episode I've seen before and follows the standard formula that every episode (more or less) of the A-Team follows. It should feel boring and pointless and predictable but somehow it doesn't. But why? Can it simply be that my fond familiarity with it cushions me from all the things I should hate about it? Is it just that the warmth of my memories for it are enough to negate it's bad points?

Surely not. I am after all a cold, emotionless machine driven by logic and reason! So there must be more to it.

Firstly the formula is a good one. The setup, bad things happening to good people. No one else can help them so they seek out and retain the A-Team, followed by the first encounter between the team and the bad guys so Hannibal can formulate a convoluted and usually effective plan. The one or more of them are captured, they improvise their escape and soundly whip the baddies, deftly sidestepping the military police who always just narrowly miss the opportunity to capture them. Yeah it's a bit corny, yeah it's a bit predictable, but it's a very satisfying configuration.

At it's heart is a good versus evil conflict where the good prevail. Hannibal and Co. are considered outlaws but in the Robin Hood tradition, standing up for the weak and defenceless in the face of the corrupt powerbase in society. Hannibal particularly is driven by a moral compass that knows little equal and will eschew payment for the team's services if it means they get the opportunity to stick it to the villains. His sense of justice is not limited by man's laws but by an instinct for what is right. He shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness and likes nothing more than to see a bully get his dues.

Criticised for being too violent the makers took great pains to ensure nobody actually gets hurt. The A-Team never kill anyone. Clearly a sidestep to avoid the censors it fits nicely with the A-Team's style. They aren't criminals and aren't interested in murder. Hannibal's love of "The Jazz*" dictates that simply killing his enemy (despite numerous threats of his intention to put slime balls in the ground) is too easy and far too dull. Much more satisfying is the challenge of playing them at their own game and bringing them down for the forces of law and order to deal with. If they nearly get captured by the authorities in the process all the better. That Hannibal. He looooves The Jazz.

For what is essentially pulp tv the writing is surprisingly good. Yes, there are the spectacularly mental episodes (Cowboy George anyone?) but the consistent relationship between the team members is masterful. It's the sort of male bonding experience that Kathryn Bigelow could only ever dream of realising. You get precious little of their back story but you know they all served together in 'Nam, they all got set up together and they all have nobody else to rely on but each other. Brothers in arms in the face of adversity. It's the same dynamic that makes the like of Lethal Weapon succesful and it is no less succesful here. Loyalty is the order of the day. No matter what life throws at the A-Team, they can always rely on each other.

The other great key to the shows success is quite simple. Everybody loves a montage. Especially one in which four guys take some hay bales, a welding torch and miscellaneous scrap that they find lying around and turn it into an armoured assault vehicle. Sure, sometimes they end up with a vaguely peculiar contraption (such as a cabbage cannon, honestly) but it's always satisfying to see those barn doors fly open at the behest of an armoured agricultural machine rolling eagerly out to punish those who would prey on the weak and defenceless.

So anyway, I love the A-Team. The fifth season went a bit mental, with Robert Vaughn pulling their strings in return for a pardon and the weird little special effects come CIA agent being added to the mix, but it's still very satisfying to watch. Tongue in cheek and yet sincere where it needs to be and brimming with a timeless heroism. I recommend it to everyone and feel very, very ambivalent towards the film (casting being my main issue - George Peppard is absolutely irreplaceable as Hannibal, Tommy Lee Jones may have been able to pull it off when he was younger but not now) but will probably watch it anyway just to see. Iconic to the last - the van, the catchphrases (I love it when a plan comes together!) it's deeply satisfying formula - all of these have embedded themselves in our collective popular culture consciousness. I find it difficult to fault.

All hail the A-Team!

*"The Jazz" has nothing to do with the musical style and everything to do with the thrill of the chase. Hannibal is well documented as loving The Jazz and never takes the simple quiet course of action when he can stir up a hornet's nest of danger to keep things interesting. Usually it involves the attentions of a couple of carloads of MP's intent on sending them back to jail.

Hail To The Chiefs

Well there we have it. Mere weeks to go until our Presidential election and the candidates have gone and had their debate and everyone is talking about it.

Who do I think won? I don't know, I didn't watch it. Not because I'm not interested in politics or what the political parties have to say. No, I didn't watch it because I'm not an American and we aren't electing a President. We are (last time I checked) voting for somebody to represent our localised section of the community in our national parliament who will voice our views and concerns either as part of or in opposition to the government.

Things I'm not voting for:

The party leader I'd most like to kiss (according to a poll I've seen it's David Cameron).

The party leader who talks the best in a group on telly. (I'm assured it's Nick Clegg).

Well any party leader really. As recent history shows you aren't necessarily going to get the party leader you vote for. From Tony to Gordon without a single vote cast (in this instance not necessarily a bad thing) suggests that who's in charge today is not necessarily who will rule the roost for the next few years.

I'm not sure but I think it's the Tories that have turned this into an issue of personality over politics. Who can blame them? The X-Factor, Big Brother and Heat magazine have taught them well. Why have substance and worth when you can have fake tan and a stylist?

For the record based on the available evidence I would say Clegg talks the talk, Brown walks the walk and Cameron is a reprehensible twat. Give me hard working, driven and experienced over posh and smug any day of the week.

I must confess the thought of a Conservative government gives me the fear. I can't believe they will do anything but coddle their rich chums at the expense of the rest of us. It's what they do. Any suggestion of change is laughable at best and definitely downright suspicious.

My recent encounters with politicians have taught me a lot. You can agree with a politician without agreeing with his party politics. The value is in being represented by someone who will grind your axe in parliament, ask the difficult questions and stick to their guns. Someone who won't be swayed by how it looks to his party or the media.

Don't ask me who that is. I thought I had decided on my vote but now I'm not so sure. I need to examine closely my local candidates and try to fathom who is the best person for the job. The only things I'm really certain of are I won't be vting Tory or BNP.

The most vital thing anyone can do is not believe they are protesting or changing anything by not voting. True the events of the last couple of years have disillusioned everyone about the worth of parliament and politicians but don't let that put you off. I guarantee you the Tory and BNP supporters will vote.

If you don't vote I better not hear you complain about the government after the next election.
And we are living in a right wing utopia it will be your fault.

Fear is the mind killer.....

What are you most afraid of? It's spiders right? Or maybe clowns?

The range of things that strike fear into people's hearts is vast, as vast in fact as the range of things there are in the world. Some of these are pretty reasonable on the face of it - take Atomosophobia for example - the fear of atomic explosions. It's perfectly understandable to be afraid of atmoic explosions, they are pretty scary. The issue arises if you spend your time worrying about the possibility of an atomic explosion on a daily basis.

By far the most irritating phobia I have ever encountered is Decidophobia, the fear of making decisions.

Making a decision is a simple act. A quick assessment of the situation, a moment's thought on potential outcomes then decide what you want to do. It's easy. Honestly. Consider your day to day life. Consider the millions upon millions of tiny decisions you make moment to moment, mostly without even thinking about it. It's built into our psyche to reflexively decide on a course of action. Not necessarily always the best course of action, but a course of action nonetheless.

Why then do so many people find it so difficult to make the simplest of decisions?

I'm fairly certain it is down to a fear of having to take responsibility (Hypengyophobia, Phobia fans!) for their decisions. Nobody wants to take the blame for anything. The buck gets passed from pillar to post and nothing actually gets achieved. I have no doubt that Alexander the Great or Genghis Khan had no problem at all in making decisions and indeed were probably quite happy to answer for the consequences of their decision making. Achieved rather a lot between them methinks.

Don't get me wrong, there are some decisions you wouldn't want to make lightly. Depending on the context you could quite literally be taking a life or death decision with far reaching consequences for you or for other people. These will obviously be more difficult to make although crisis decision making frequently offers less time to ponder than you would hope for, the pressure often forcing your hand and making the process easier.

My point, quite simply, is this: make a decision. If somebody asks you a straightfoward question, give them a straightforward answer. Getting it wrong is (probably) not going to kill you. Get a spine, feel the fear and do it anyway.

Otherwise we will never get anything done.

Pulling a half G on the Andygraph!

Now, as anyone who knows me knows, I like a drink. I've had a mixed relationship with alcohol over the years but consider myself on fairly friendly terms with the stuff these days. It's only comparatively recently however that I have discovered the joys of drinking wine.

I'd always considered wine to be a bit too middle class for the likes of me, put off by the snobbery and elitism that surrounds it. I just want a drink that tastes nice, I don't really want to dissect the experience.

It's not that I have anything against people that do, that's their choice and I understand perfectly the desire to analyse and evangelise something that you love. Just try to have a conversation with me about films. It's just something I haven't the inclination to care too deeply about.

Wine snobs are insufferable. Who cares what the soil conditions were like when the grapes were growing or which region is famed for what? The only thing I worry about with wine is if it's nice to drink or not. That's why I invented the Andygraph.

The simple fact of the matter is this. All wine eventually tastes good if you drink enough of it. Regardless of how much like antifreeze it tastes, after enough of it you will not only no longer notice it's bad but will start to genuinely believe it's good. Some people might try to deny this but the fact remains that if you persevere with enough quantity of any wine of any calibre I guarantee you it will eventually seem very drinkable. This is where the Andygraph comes in.

The premise is simple. Using a 125ml glass as the basic unit (or one "G") the Andygraph measures the precise number of G's you have to consume before the wine can officially be called drinkable. The finest of fine wines should be a big fat zero on the Andygraph, tasting like the elixir of the gods from the first sip. In a real world example, the Canarian red wine I was drinking on holiday (that they kept in the fridge!) was hitting around 6 or 7 G's on the Andygraph. It is possible after the initial tasting to estimate a wine at a high G rating only to discover that it is several G's lower on the Andygraph than originally predicted but it is impossible for the reverse to be true.

It's on responsible to point out that the Andygraph is a bit like flying a fighter jet - pull too many G's and it's highly likely you will lose consciousness and suffer potentially permanent damage. Caution is recommended!

The pure joy of this system of rating wine is that it requires no specialist knowledge, no years of research into wine making and the effects of various factors on it's flavour. All you need is a bottle of wine and some tastebuds. It's other great benefit is that it is transferable to other varieties of alcoholic beverages. The next step for me is to research the effects of food on the G rating of wine and try to incorporate this into the Andygraph. It'll be hard work I'm sure, drinking a variety of wines in combination with a broad selection of fine foods, but I think I'm up to the task.

Better run through the jungle....

There you are, coiled in the shadow of a wooden barricade, breath heavy behind your facemask, enemy fire pouring in over your head. You peer through the cracks between the planks of the bunker, desperately trying to pinpoint your foes while your heart beats a frantic tattoo in your ears.

Hopelessly pinned down, you pick your moment, popping up and letting loose a rapid volley of shots before throwing yourself back to the safety of cover. You had just enough time to see the enemy take a round straight between the eyes.

The cry goes up, "Player eliminated!" But there's no time to get cocky because the rest of them are still out there and the fire is still coming in thick and fast. And let me tell you, it feels good.

It's difficult for me to pin down precisely why I find rolling around in a forest, with a gun, trying to shoot people quite so much fun.

There's a definite regression to the games of 'war' I played in my youth. Crawling through the fields behind my grannies house in Dalneigh, down by the canal, commandos on a mission and then the inevitable squabble over who shot who first. Not an issue when you have visible impacts and referees.

But there is more to it than that.

It's not just a guy thing either, an excuse for us to let off some testosterone induced steam and establish extreme alpha male-ness
over our social group. There are plenty of ladies who enjoy the experience and get just as into it as the guys. In fact I find the notion of it as the preserve of Mike-From-Spaced or the Off Roaders from the Fast Show types as grossly offensive. Admittedly some paintball venues don't do much to dispel this wannabe-TA myth.

It's strategic. You have to think about your next move, you need to plan. To achieve that you need to cooperate as a team. The satisfaction of seeing your plan unfold, Hannibal Smith style, as the game progresses is difficult to beat.

The joy of working in a squad, firing and moving to outflank an entrenched opponent, should really be experienced by everyone. A testament to how the power of a group of like minded people with a common goal will easily eclipse that of the individual.

Teamwork is essential. That doesn't mean there aren't opportunities for individual brilliance or inspiration. Desperate acts of heroism or flashes of tactical inspiration can turn the tide of games and provide plenty of fat to chew over later in the post battle buzz.

Then of course there's the competitive nature of the sport. This is possibly what puts people off it but to me is one of the attractions. It's less about winning or losing for me and a lot more about doing either with class, style and a sense of humour. I like banter and between matches, as the rivalry increases, you get plenty, even if most of mine is lifted straight out of war movies.

It's all just so much fun!

The biggest factor that puts people off is probably the idea of the pain you will inevitably suffer when you get hit. It's true it does hurt a bit when you take a hit but (depending on where you are hit) it's not that sore.

Also, because your adrenaline is up from all the running around and getting shot at, you don't feel it the same as you would normally. I have also found that how much pain you end up in is as dependent on the venue/organiser you choose as it is on how much and where you get hit. I find I'm usually in more pain from the exercise than the paintball hits!

Properly organised and controlled games should mean you don't get 'overshot' and end up black and blue and you actually have fun. Locally I've had the most fun at Wildwoodz Paintball near Tore (www.wildwoodzpaintball.co.uk).

Their emphasis is firmly on fun and fairplay and their customer service is outstanding.

Anyway my point is this: don't knock it 'til you've tried it. In fact, make the effort to try it at least once. If nothing else it's fantastic exercise and gets you out into the fresh air.

You never know, you might enjoy it.