Run with Eric:
Health

Some pics from one of of my favorite trails, Los Penasquitos Canyon Preserve. I'm lucky... the trailhead is about 10 minutes from my office. After the time change and as the days get longer, this is where I like to run for a post-work stress relief.

Just like every other parent, I sometimes have a hard time getting my two young daughters to make healthy food choices. But, with some experimentation, I came up with a simple, healthy preparation for broccoli that they absolutely love.

I've actually heard them tell their friends, "My dad's a good cook, he makes the best broccoli!". Needless to say, that is music to my ears. This is my go-to vegetable recipe that, so far at least, has never failed
to disappoint. Give it a try.

Ingredients

3 large broccoli crowns, chopped into large pieces
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1 tablespoon Bragg's Amino Acids, low-sodium or wheat-free soy sauce
1 tablespoon olive oil

In a large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook until it begins to soften. When it starts to turn golden, add broth and bring to boil. Add broccoli, Bragg's Aminos or soy sauce, and stir to ensure that ingredients are mixed. Reduce heat to low and simmer for approximately 10 minutes, or until broccoli is tender and bright green. Remove from heat and serve.

Serves 4

*Note: this is not a strictly Paleo recipe due to the Bragg's/soy as soy is a legume. Here is a soy-free/gluten free soy sauce substitute recipe worth trying.

A couple years ago, someone handed me a copy of the The Paleo Diet for Athletes, by Dr. Loren Cordain & Joe Friel. In the book's pages, the authors claimed that eating a diet closer to what our Paleolithic ancestors ate has amazing benefits. A diet that eliminates grains, dairy products and legumes and replaces them with an increased intake of animal proteins and healthy fats, along with plenty of vegetables and fruit results in improved body composition, more energy, superior athletic performance, reduced illness and reduction in the risk factors for the modern long-term illnesses like heart disease and diabetes.

Ever the cynic, after reading the book, I set it aside as another fad diet (Adkins, Zone, Hollywood, South Beach) that promised incredible results, yet failed to deliver. But several times over the last several months, I had conversations with friends and fellow athletes who embarked on this way of eating and reported results quite similar to what Dr. Cordain and Mr. Friel claimed. I began to do some research, discovering that Paleo and similar eating philosophies (Primal, PaNu) seems to have nearly universally positive results for those willing to embrace the change. Maybe there was something to this after all.

On March 1, I began my own Paleo journey, adhering to the following principles.

What I stopped eating (or ate a LOT less of)

Month 1:

• No grains (including breads and other baked goods, pasta, cereal, granola, oats, quinoa and rice)
• Minimal dairy (occassionally using some butter for cooking and a small amounts of cheeses like feta or in salads). No milk, no yogurt, no cream. Of course, no ice cream. Ouch.
• No legumes (including all beans, peanuts and soy products).
• Starchy carbohydrates: potatoes
• Refined sugar products: soft drinks (including things like packaged iced teas... ever read the nutrition label of an Arizona Iced Tea?), candy.

• Still no grains, except for the occasional cheat meal.
• Minimal dairy, but now have added full fat organic whole milk as an indulgence (maybe a glass a week) and whole cream in my coffee.
• Dramatically reduced legumes: I try to avoid peanuts, soy... will have some black beans on occasion.
• Starchy carbs (sweet potatoes, parsnips) only immediately before or after hard exercise sessions. I am still avoiding potatoes.

• Fundamentally, Paleo or Primal eating is about "real" food. Unprocessed, as close to the source as you can get. If it's a packaged food, the fewer ingredients the better. But ideally, this style of eating minimizes consumption of foods that come in boxes, cans or jars.
• Meat: beef, chicken, fish, pork. A quick aside about meat. It is pretty well-documented that there is wide variation in quality when it somes to the meat available at the grocery store. Most "factory" cows and chickens are fed a non-optimal diet of grains and soy. When possible, we purchase pasture-raised, organic or wild meat. In the case of beef, we acquired a 1/2 steer from a local supplier, so all our beef at home is grass-fed. We buy the best chicken available at the local groceries, but due to cost and availability this isn't always pastured or organic. Same goes with the fish; wild when possible, but sometimes we eat farm-raised.
• Eggs: Organic or pasture-raised when possible... but again, sometimes we are limited by what is on hand at the local Wal-mart or Kroger.
• Vegetables: broccoli, asparagus, various squashes, onions, mixed greens, leafy greens (kale, spinach, swiss chard), bell peppers... the list goes on. You get the idea, lots of veggies.
• Fruit: berries, mandarin oranges, apples, bananas.
• Nuts and seeds: almonds (and almond butter, milk), pecans, macadamia.

• Breakfast: scrambled eggs and fruit (apples, bananas) and on the weekend, bacon.
• Lunch: Big salad with greens, colorful veggies and chicken, tuna, beef and turkey. Basic oil and vinegar dressing or homemade vinaigrette.
• Dinner: Steak, chicken, fish, some cooked veggies and a green salad.
• Snacks: a handful of nuts, some trail mix, celery or apples with almond butter, baby carrots, sliced red bell peppers with some hummus. Will have a protein shake (with almond milk and some fruit) after a big workout.

• Daily calories: 1876
• I was somewhat surprised by how low this was. For reference, my Basal Metabolic Rate (daily calories burned at rest) is 1986.
• Carbs (g): 139 29.64% of total
• Here, Mark Sisson of MarksDailyApple.com talks about an ideal range of 50-100g per day for weight loss and 100-150g for maintenance, plus roughly 100g for each hour of training.
• Fat (g): 94.5 45.3% of total
• Nothing remarkable here... certainly more than the 44-78g range recommended by the Mayo Clinic, but not surprising considering all the nuts, avocado, healthy oils, and of course, a good amount of animal fat.
• Protein (g): 117.3 25.01% of total
• Way more than the FDA's 56g Recommended Daily Allowance (RDI), but quite close to the.7-1.0g per lb of lean body weight guideline recommended by many fitness trainers for those looking to increase lean muscle mass.
• Fiber (g): 24.69
• Depending on where you look, most experts recommend a fiber intake between 20-35g per day. I ended up well within this range... despite no grains. Amazing to think vegetables have fiber. Whooda thunk?

On April 1st, I upped the intensity of my training somewhat added in some longer cycling sessions, while continuing my strength training as well. Total volume came in just under 65 minutes avg per day (72% cycling/rowing/running, 28% strength training)

Weight change.
March 1: 209.6.
April 1: 193.6
May 1: 189.0

Very dramatic weight loss the first two weeks (about 12 lbs), since then it has slowed to about 1 lb per week.

Performance and strength gains are evident. A few data points:

One set standard pushup max:
March 1: 43, May 2: 78
TRX Low Row/Atomic Pushups (aka 40/40 challenge):
March 1: 18 pushups/26 low rows; April 29: 40 pushups/41 low rows

There was some initial impact on my endurance the first two weeks... my energy level crashed after about 20 minutes into any extended cardio workout. But this subsided and my energy levels and endurance improved and exceeded previous levels after this transition period. In fact, I set a new indoor rowing half marathon personal best on March 27 and my strength on my bike is improving every day.

Overall impressions on changing to this way of eating:

I'm not going to lie. The first couple of weeks, I was craving bread, rice and pasta... it was such a cornerstone of my meals that it seemed strange to have a meal without some starchy carb in it. But, now I am used to it and am perfectly satisfied with a plate full of veggies with some protein, whether its in the form of a big salad, or some cooked veggies and a nice portion of roasted chicken or steak.

Benefits:

• Improved body composition: I am losing body fat consistently, and thanks to a consistent exercise routine, building lean body mass and improving strength. What else can I ask for?
• Energy levels: More consistent throughout the day. No post-meal "food comas". No energy crash in the afternoon.
• Sleep: Generally improved, once I'm out, I am out until about 8-9 hours later.
• More consistant hunger patterns: I am rarely "starving". I eat three times per day... moderately sized meals, but I rarely find myself super hungry like before.

• Eating while out or traveling: paleo/low carb options can be hard to come by while eating out or on the road, particularly for breakfast. I am getting used to special ordering.
• Food preparation time: So many of the quick foods available are grain based, so it can be inconvenient to cook every meal. Grabbing a pizza on the way home from the kid's softball practice is no longer in the cards. Or if we do, I have to make my own meal while they eat pizza. Which begs the question, are my kids eating paleo? Yes and no, but that's the subject of another post.
• Cost: Protein is expensive. Carbs are cheap. Enough said.

In the blink of an eye it seems, the month of January has nearly passed and the resolutions set for 2011 are either works in progress or becoming a distant memory. Time flies when you're having fun, as the saying goes. And, despite the cold and seemingly never ending winter, I am having fun... workouts are coming together. I've started running again. I am getting stronger, fitter and even a little leaner. The last part has been pretty easy actually, after being a complete and utter glutton during the month of December, losing a few pounds has simply been a matter of all the pie being gone.
You might be wondering why I chose the title for the post and it's pretty simple actually. I've been struggling with the why. I enjoy my daily workouts, that's not the issue. And I've chosen a few events to focus on later in the year to provide some additional motivation and allow for some structure to my training. But the big why is lacking. Yes, daily exercise is healthy of the body and soul. But, come on, that's kind of boring. I need something more.

Over a decade ago, I signed up for an Ironman on a whim... and I trained my ass off, primarily driven by fear. Fear that I couldn't complete the distance and that I would fail. And that fear pushed me out of my comfort zone on a daily basis, doing things that, at the time, seemed impossible, even stupid. For example, ride 100 miles in the northern Virginia summer and then run 10 miles afterward. Now I know the game of triathlon to know that such a workout is not unusual at all for Ironman prep, but at the time (before the Internet), it seemed a little crazy... but fear is a powerful motivator and it got me out the door.

Of course, there was a happy ending, I finished in a respectable time, I lived happily ever after, even doing another Ironman and a bunch of other marathons, half ironmans (click on the 'racing' tag to the right to read some of the race reports). But the sense of accomplishment and pride at Ironman finish line #1 has yet to be equaled.

So what next? I don't know the answer right now, but I'm thinking a lot about it.

Things have been pretty crazy around Casa Flores for the last month with my family visiting from California and what, at times, seemed like endless stream of parties to cook and prepare for. So after nearly six weeks focused on celebrating with friends and family, it's time to look toward the future on how to make the new year even better than the last.

2010 was a huge year of change for me and my family. In August, we moved from the beaches of sunny San Diego to the mountains of West Virginia in order for my wife to pursue a lifelong goal of hers, which was to work at The Greenbrier. The stars aligned for her, as she is now playing a key role in the rebirth of the resort... truly exciting times. We swapped roles as she took over the responsibility of primary breadwinner as I quit my job at a telecommunications company and effectively ended my career in technology sales to take over as the primary caregiver for our two young daughters. This has a been a incredible blessing. My relationship with my kids has improved dramatically. Not that it was bad before, but we are much closer now than when I was working full-time.

The other blessing that has come out of the last few months is that the downtime has allowed me to do some thinking about how I want to focus my energies going forward.

Primary 2011 goal - To leverage my experience and passion for endurance sports and fitness by providing coaching and training services, primarily focused on beginner/novice athletes who are looking to use endurance sports as a way to open the door to a fit and healthy lifestyle. The state of West Virginia suffers from some the highest obesity rates in the country, despite the ample outdoor activities that are available here. My aim is to help stem the tide of this epidemic one individual at a time by becoming an evangelist and an educator. The first step is to educate myself more fully and I am currently in the process of obtaining my NASM Certified Personal Training Certification and later this year will pursue my USAT Triathlon Level 1 Certification. Much, much more on this to come as this plan comes to fruition. Stay tuned.

Of course, I have some personal fitness goals as well, some big picture and some more fun little challenges.

• Become a runner again. After six months off, it's healed and time to get back to it. And get back to 80 min half-marathon shape by the end of the summer.
• Row a 6:40 2K on my Concept2 indoor rower. My original time frame was by December 1. A back injury last month derailed my efforts somewhat, but I am back (pun intended) and will be posting my progress here regularly as I try to achieve this goal by February 1.
• Row 2,000,000 lifetime meters by April 31. (at 1,048,829m as of Jan 4)
• Sub 4:30 Half Ironman Triathlon. Goal race - PPD Beach to Battleship Triathlon
• Complete both TRX 40/40 challenges (upper body = low row/atomic pushups, lower body = hip press, suspended lunges)

Sometimes there is nothing better than a hot plate of starchy carbohydrates to start your morning. Particularly in the form of a tall stack of pancakes. I'm a bit of a tinkerer in the kitchen and I came up with the following recipe for multi-grain pancakes after some trial and error. I think they are pretty good and my wife and kids like them, so my bet is that you will too.

While I realize that it's not always the healthiest thing to eat (in fact, it's usually not), I'll assume that if you're reading this blog (all two of you) that you've either preceded or will follow your big breakfast with a hard workout to burn off all this excess glycogen. For the sake of balance and a more complete breakfast, I'd also recommend some protein. You can never go wrong with some thick sliced good quality bacon. If you're trying to avoid animal fat, or don't eat meat, the Morningstar brand veggie sausage patties are also excellent. And of course, some fresh fruit... strawberries, blueberries, peaches or what you can get your hands on or is in season.

Here's the recipe.

Get two large bowls out and pre-heat a griddle or skillet to 350 degrees.

In the first bowl, whisk together the following dry ingredients:

• 1/3 cup corn meal
• 1/4 cup quick cooking or old-fashioned rolled oats
• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 3/4 cup white, all purpose flour
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• pinch of ground nutmeg

In the second bowl, whisk the following wet ingredients:

• 1 3/4 cup milk (I use 1%... whatever type you normally keep on hand will work. As for almond, rice or soy, I haven't tried those in this recipe, so you're on your own)
• 4 tablespoons butter (1/2 stick), melted
• 1/4 cup honey
• 3 large eggs
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract

Pour wet ingredients into the dry and gently whisk together until combined. Don't overmix or your pancakes will come out dense and chewy.

Using a ladle, pour about 1/4 cup of batter onto hot griddle. If you like nuts, sprinkle chopped pecans, almonds or walnuts on each pancake while it cooks, before flipping.

They will be ready to flip when large bubbles appear on the top and start to pop. Serve right away or keep warm in a 200 degree oven.

Serve with pure maple syrup.

Enjoy!

Well hung, innit? I'm hanging like a parliament. Hang this. Etc. The jokes everywhere are from the news of a hung parliament, as the British public - well, 65% of it - went to the polls and voted for no one in particular.

Some of us were foolish enough to stay up all night to watch the results come in, and for a more in-depth, more drunken look I recommend trawling through my old tweets at www.twitter.com/weekspotblog. But for those of you with lives to lead (I did update so many times I broke Twitter and was told to stop posting), here's a summary of how no one bar the Greens can be happy with this result.

And fair play to the Greens. It's a fantastic outcome for the single-issue nutters.

Anyway, here goes: the Top Ten 'Oh Fucks' of the night:

1. Oh fuck. The Liberal Democrats had a shocker last night, and this is where it all started to go wrong. Clegg's collective had been making promises of a genuine challenge to Government and 110 seats. Instead, they lost five MPs, and currently stand on a paltry 54 (16 constituencies are still to be announced).

Again, it all started here. The LibDems' no1 target seat saw a 6.9% swing AWAY from the yellows and into the hands of a gleeful Tory party. No doubt for Doughty; no paradise lost for Milton.

Clegg considers his career options

2. Oh fuck. The Conservative Party actually had a pretty bad night of it as well, despite what this terrifyingly blue map of the UK might aver. Seriously, if they just counted votes in England, not Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as well, the Tories would walk it.

But they won't be at all happy with failing to reach a majority, and it was in constituencies such as this that they fell. It really looked like the Blues would take Tooting, but despite a healthy 3.6% swing against them Labour and Sadiq Khan MP held on. 'Yes we Khan' were the chants. Yes we Khan. +10% turnout too. Good work, Tooting.

Not Tooting his own horn here

3. Oh fuck. Labour had to endure a torrid night (this was a particularly painful one to lose - just 54 votes in it), and what will really hurt is losing some big names. Two former home secretaries, Charles Clarke and Jacqui Smith, were among the casualties and although Clarke is anti-Brown and anti-Balls, he's an old head they didn't want to see go.

How fucked? This fucked

4. Oh fuck. Labour weren't the only party to say goodbye to some prominent figures and again, this was the beginning of the end for the LibDems. Lembit Opik, he of Cheeky Girl fame, lost his seat in Montgomeryshire as the Tories made another gain - this time, with a massive 13.2% swing. Cheeky.

5. Oh fuck. Evan Harris also went - a massive blow for the LibDems. There were only 176 votes in it.

6. Oh fuck. The British National Party didn't win any seats, which is great news, but I wish I could be more optimistic about half a million voters putting an X by their name. I can't. It's disgusting.

Interestingly, the BNP actually lost 1.7% of the vote in the constituency where Nick Griffin plumped his fat bonk-eyed arse.

Understatement?

7. Oh fuck. Essex has a lot to answer for. Chavs, white stilettos and Jamie Oliver aside, the county has a nasty habit of being pretty right-wing in its voting habits. The constituency that best summed up its extent of fail last night was Basildon South & Thurrock East, where they successfully got rid of a Labour minister, voted in a Tory and gave more than 2,500 votes to the BNP. Well done.

8. Oh fuck. Every time I switched over ITV's coverage was absolutely God-awful, from Alistair Stewart constantly interrupting everybody like he's king of the fucking world to filming outside a pub where David Cameron was drinking. It's a pub - just go inside!

9. Oh fuck. Jeremy Vine's house of wank was the reason I kept switching over in the first place.

10. Oh fuck. Last but not least, I was very sad to see this man lose his seat. Richard Taylor is a doctor who ran as a single-issue independent in 2001 to keep Kidderminster Hospital open, and absolutely slammed Labour's junior minister David Lock into the ground. He then held on in 2005 to become the first independent MP to retain his seat since the 1970s. He's such a hero that the LibDems didn't put up any opposition against him on either occasion.

Unfortunately, the Tories did and this time round they won. Bastards.

So, what a bust that was. Here's to a hung parliament seeing some good change put through. What? It could happen.

Oh yay. OK, then, one piece of good news: bag of balls David Heathcoat-Amory, 17 years in power, lost his seat in Wells, Somerset. He literally owns this constituency. It was pretty damn satisfying seeing him lose control of it.

Oh Daily Mail, obsessive-compulsive disorder is SO last year.

Of course, it doesn't bother me that there's another article in a mainstream national newspaper on OCD - far from it. I want to see the condition get as much coverage as possible so people actually understand it, instead of thinking, "Oh come on, how hard can it be to just have to wash your hands lots?"

The problem is that this is The Mail, and therefore any suggestion of respect is immediately going down the plughole with that soapy water. And indeed, they live up to form by making a complete hash of it.

My main issue with the piece is its conclusion. Personally, I think some progress can be made without professional consultation, but anyone with any OCD knowhow, professional or otherwise, would always say: see someone first. It's not an easy battle, and you'd be a fool to dismiss it entirely as a matter of willpower. Get help, then try to defeat it.

The article concludes:

The experts might say that you can't cure it yourself, but I'm living proof that you can.

I'm casting a lot of aspersions here - look, there they go, fluttering into the sunset - but it is an absolute certainty that some OCD sufferers will, as a consequence of reading this article, try to handle the condition entirely by themselves, without any help, and that is the wrong thing to do. It's something you need to conquer personally, no doubt about it; but turning down help is just stupid.

So what else bothers me about the article? Well, it's slightly uncomfortable reading some of the supposed diary extracts, not because they're disgusting or because the truth is too horrible to bear, but because it's a woman baring all in the worst way possible - smiling to the cameras. Or in this case: weeping with a smile in her eye.

My point is that parts of the article are discomfortingly pity-seeking. The writer becomes the martyr. I'm all for a writer with OCD revealing her inner battles and just how low the condition makes her feel, and in that sense the diary format makes sense, but it repeatedly collapses into wanton melodrama.

Now I don't think this is necessarily the writer's fault; I think it's the editor's. Either the writer is exploiting her own condition for sympathy's sake or the Mail's exploiting her. I think the latter is more likely. Having been in similar positions (I turned down an offer to appear in a trashy woman's weekly because I would have been made into a sideshow freak), I can see how a brutally honest but reserved piece was mutated like Frankenstein's creature into a stumbling monster of gruesome soundbites and misunderstood intentions. I can see the e-mail now, asking the poor writer to "spice it up". I can see the subeditors battling over a headline - "'Obsessive Compulsive Disaster', brilliant". And I can see the writer in tears over its treatment.

Or - equally possible - she's fine with it, it's a decent exposé and I'm just jealous at having my spacky thunder stolen (not true, I'm afraid). But to be fair, I genuinely do want to see obsessive-compulsive disorder in the press as much as possible.

Just not like this.

Just a quick one, then, before it all kicks off and America welcomes its new President.

Here is a generator to predict Barack Obama's inauguration speech. You enter random words where it tells you to, and works out a speech for you. It's great fun, and in places, strangely accurate given you are entering words without knowing where they'll be going.

Here's mine, if you're interested. "Green and famous challenges" aside, it's eerily close to what the real thing could be and also, really quite amusing - especially the final paragraph.

My fellow Americans, today is a happy day. You have shown the world that "hope" is not just another word for "change", and that "change" is not only something we can believe in again, but something we can actually do.

Today we celebrate, but let there be no mistake – America faces green and famous challenges like never before. Our economy is large. Americans can barely afford their mortgages, let alone have enough money left over for tables. Our healthcare system is nasty. If your heart is sick and you don't have insurance, you might as well call a journalist. And America's image overseas is tarnished like a underwear magazine. But doctoring together we can right this ship, and set a course for Hawaii.

Finally, I must thank my lovely family, my black campaign volunteers, but most of all, I want to thank Hillary Clinton for making this historic occasion possible. Of course, I must also thank you, President Bush, for years of messing the American people. Without your white efforts, none of this would have been possible.

It's Friday night, the house is asleep... all except for me. This happens to me occasionally. I'm very tired, but for some reason my mind won't shut off.

It's been a solid last 2 weeks of training to kick off the year. In the last 12 days, I've managed 23 hrs of training including 235 miles on the bike, 59 miles of running and 6.5K swimming. Ok, so the swimming is an afterthought... but the bike/run totals are decent, no? After this weekend's workouts, I should end up right around 29 hours.

Anyways, for me that's pretty solid volume. Tomorrow, I going for a group ride with one of the local racing teams here in San Diego, Celo Pacific. It's billed as a low/medium intensity ride... but I have a feeling I'm going to be struggling to hang on. It should be interesting. Sunday, I have a 16 mile run on the schedule.

Tomorrow is 12 weeks out from Oceanside, so these next 6-7 weeks are very critical for laying down as much volume as I can handle. I will probably need one recovery week in there somewhere, the exact timing is still to be determined. About 4-5 weeks out, I'll start to up the intensity a bit with longer race-pace and faster-than-race pace efforts and then it's taper time. It will be here quick so I can't slack off now.

As long as I can avoid getting injured and stay healthy, things are right on track. I am racing in a hilly half marathon on Feb 9 (San Dieguito). That will be a good measure of my fitness. All my training data put me far ahead of where I was this time last year, but the race will be an even better indicator.

Recently, I've been religious about wearing my SLS3 (pronounced SLS-tri) compression socks. My friend from track, Sebastian, owns the company and sold me on them. While the looks are questionnable, they feel fantastic. I've been wearing them after nearly every long bike ride or run and my recovery between workouts has been excellent. While, I'd like to think that all of that is due to my fitness... I will give the socks a bit of the credit.

I also recently picked up a pair of Skins compression tights. After the 120 mile ride last Saturday, my legs were feeling pretty wobbly. So I decided to wear them for my long run the following day. I managed 12 miles and again, the compression seemed to help. My legs never felt sore and afterwards I had very little DOMS. Quite surprising considering what I had put my legs through in the previous 36 hours.

So, yeah, I'm a fan of the compression gear. It is working for me.

Now I'd better get some rest for that ride tomorrow.

'Til next time.

All right then, a quick one before the year is out. New Year's Eve on the South Bank can wait.

First, though, a quick word of thanks to anyone still reading this blog; to those who put up with the epic early posts; to those who bookmarked it, RSSed it or remembered to return every Sunday night; and to those stuck with it through the regime change into its current non-weekly format. It's been great to know I'm not just prattling into an empty universe, as I usually am. Thank you all.

So why am I posting now, when I'm running late for a train? Because there are a couple of things I want to make clear before 2009 begins with a swirl of fireworks and anti-climax.

i) Manchester United are not out of the running for the Premiership. I keep reading interviews, match reviews and analyses saying, "United are still in the hunt" as if it's a surprise. Of course it isn't.

For one, United are never out of the running. As much as it pains me to say it (I hate United with a red devilish passion surpassed only by a recent revulsion towards Arsene Wenger), they are a good team that never gives up - hence their tradition in grabbing points from games at literally the last minute. The same goes in the longer run, and they'll fight this tooth and nail.

Secondly, they have the depth to cope with the injuries that naturally plague any team with title aspirations. One look at the depth of talent in the United midfield - Ronaldo, Giggs, Park, Carrick, Hargreaves (admittedly out for the rest of the season), Nani, Anderson, Scholes, Fletcher, O'Shea and any I've missed - is enough to know they can survive an injury crisis far better than the likes of 13-man squad Arsenal can.

Finally, have these naysayers even seen the points difference? United are seven points adrift of leaders Liverpool with two games in hand. If they win those two games, both at home - and they will - they're only a point behind. All it takes is a few dropped points by Liverpool (very likely) and they're top. Not asking much.

My prediction for 2009: Manchester United to win the Premiership.

ii) Facebook is right to ban photos of women breastfeeding. It is. The only problem is that it's gone the wrong way about it.

Breastfeeding photos shouldn't be banned because they're supposedly disgusting, or because nipples shouldn't be on show on such a widely-used website, but because there are some very dodgy people on Facebook who go around stalking women with public profiles. Believe me - I know some of them. Pictures of women liberally breastfeeding are enough to have some sick men reaching for their Kleenex, and for that reason - to protect the people in them - the photos should be banned.

iii) Raymond Blanc, the famous chef, has been a bit irresponsible in my view.

There's not much on it here, but look past the stuff about family mealtimes to the bit about diet books. This is what The Telegraph focused on in their print report today, and quite rightly so.

Blanc has said that diet books make people fear food, rather than enjoy it. He seems to be of the 'live to eat, don't eat to live' party, claiming that British people are so worried about what they should and should not eat they don't eat nice food any more.

This is a tad dangerous in my view. Yes, diet books can be irresponsible too in giving people overly negative images of themselves, but at least they are trying to curb the obesity problem in this country. What we don't need is a leading chef telling people to stop worrying about their weight and eat whatever the hell they want.

iv) This man should resign.

And that's it for 2008! Thanks again for sticking with me. Here's to controversial stories in 2009.

So then, this is the 25th (kinda) and last Week Spot blog post as you know it. From next week, it will be updated as and when something in the news catches my eye - as, indeed, a blog should be.

Maybe I'll do a weekly round-up again, but I doubt it. So until that day does or doesn't come, here's a bumper final edition of strange stories for you.

And everything's changing, mainly to do with people being removed from the public eye. OJ Simpson's been locked up, Diana Vickers has been voted off X-Factor and Darren Anderton's retired from professional football.

I think that's good, good or bad and bad news respectively, but I'd appreciate your input on that. What do you think?

OJ loses common sense, freedom
The British public loses another Diana
Official: left-handers plagued by statistics
Andy Fordham hits the maximum in weightloss
The Discman makes a comeback
Sicknote Anderton hangs up his boots

Dear oh dear. Opinion still seems to be divided over whether OJ Simpson murdered Nicole Brown and Ronald Goldman, of whose deaths he was found innocent in 'the trial of the century' in 1995, but we can all agree on something – he's stupid.

Surely OJ should have known for more than a decade now that every move he makes would be watched like a hawk by people aggrieved with the 'not guilty' murder verdict, the authorities and conspiracy theorists. He should have been wary of picking his nose in case it turned out to be holding evidence against him.

So with this in mind, his reaction to the supposed theft of some memorabilia was, well, a bit special. For a start, it's not like he was actually robbed. Two people were trying to sell memorabilia from OJ's footballing days and he claimed it still

belonged to him. Now, what do you do in that situation? Get legal on their arses? Let them peddle the useless wares? Or kidnap them at gunpoint and force them to give the stuff back? The latter, apparently. I think he's started to confuse his life with the movies he's been in.

Yet OJ claims, "I did not know that I was doing anything illegal." Uh... really? What part of it did you think was nice and legal, OJ? Was it the kidnapping or the armed robbery? Honestly, it's like he thinks he can get away with murder or something.

And so this time he's been sent down – down for 33 years (though it'll more likely be nine, when his parole is heard). Interesting. What's yet more interesting is that he was found guilty of this charge 13 years to the day after being acquitted in the murder trial. Some will call this justice; I just think it's the most beautiful irony.

Still, he's got only himself to blame. Silly boy.

So, Diana has been voted off X-Factor just one round before the grand final. I hear Mattel are desperate to get her voice into a range of Barbie dolls (complete with claw-like hands) to capitalise on the publicity. And the reaction of the rest of us is... conflicting, to say the least.

I haven't been watching X-Factor at all – I've drying paint that needs monitoring – but like many sceptics, I've been dragged in a bit by the drama. From the couple of performances I've seen, I know that some of them can sing, some of them can't, and Diana Vickers is definitely memorable.

That is to say, I don't know if I like her or hate her. She somehow manages to sound bloody awful and absolutely amazing at the same time – something not done since Bob Dylan, albeit in a very different way. I think yesterday's show proved that faster, louder songs don't suit her, which may well be why she was voted out (well, that and she annoys people), but she can belt out a ballad in at least a distinctive way. Put it this way: I don't know if I like it or not, but I still have her version of Coldplay's Yellow in my head. And since the winner is going to sing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah and you know no one's going to do it better than Jeff Buckley, at least hers would be different from the norm.

The winners are generally dull. Leon? What's happened to him? At least he could sing, I think, which sets him apart from Ray Quinn, who is without a doubt one of the worst singers I have ever heard, and yet he came second a couple of years ago. Listen to him sometime. He doesn't sing any consonants.

Anyway, like her princess namesake, Diana's gone now – cast aside like the proverbial rag doll she physically resembles. As if it matters – she'll get a record contract and, like her 16-year-old rival and potential squeeze Eoghan, will add to the list of people more than 5 years younger than me (she's 17) and phenomenally more successful than I am.

Bastards.

More useless education statistics emerged recently. After the classic that was 'pupils born later in the year do worse in exams' (I've already written an article on that one), we're now told left-handed students don't test as well as their right-handed counterparts. Oh good, so we'll just make sure our children are right-handed, shall we? I'm sure a return to the 19th century will do us good, and make sure we all grow up in a right-handed utopia. But just to make sure, let's move back in time and culture completely and burn lefties at the stake for being witches.

This goes out to the BBC and educational researchers: STOP SPREADING ALARMISM. Non-stories of non-studies like this just lead idiots to worry, and they don't need the persuasion.

I'm not left-handed. But 7-10% of the population are, and please, just leave them alone. Five of the last seven Presidents of the USA – Ford, Reagen, Bush Snr., Clinton and Obama (and McCain as well) – have been left-handed. No one talks about that. Actually, that's probably for the best: the rednecks have enough to go on without our telling them the world is not only in the hands of a black guy, but a left-handed black guy.

I wonder if they've had to move the red button on his desk.

What the hell has happened to Andy Fordham? I am really, really glad he has decided to kick the drink (seriously, 23 bottles of lager a day?) and lose some weight but he looks emaciated. I mean, I suppose that's what losing 17 stone does to you, but I genuinely don't recognise him. I think it's an actor.

Oh well, good for him, I suppose. But he does look terrifying.

So the lesson here, kids, is if you want to avoid inevitable surgery, don't play darts.

And yet I can't find N64 controllers anywhere.

So. Farewell
Then
Darren Anderton.

You have played
Your last game. 599. You
Scored a volley in the dying minutes to grab a dramatic win for Bournemouth.

Well done.

Sicknote. That
Was your name.
People called you that
Because you were always
Injured.

Now you're
Retired.
But you're not dead.
Yet.

(With apologies to E. J. Thribb, 17½)

One (or rather two) of the most interesting and appealing things about blogging is its immediacy and its brevity. Why wait a day for a full-scale investigation into a story by a national newspaper when you can read a journalist's opinions on it straightaway, and in just five minutes?

Then I come in and cock it all up by blogging regularly once a week and at great length. I suppose one way of looking at it is that I'm stripping down the boundaries, man, and I'm not restricting myself to a blog's... restrictions. But alternatively, it might just be that I trust my readers to have good attention spans and a good enough memory to return later if they're short on time.

Why am I saying this now? Because, writing a piece on American politics as I speak – well, not literally, since I'm obviously writing this as I speak and as it happens I'm not actually speaking at all – I can tell you that it is going to be epic. There's just too much to say. Sorry.

So if you're looking for a quick opinion on the American presidential election, here it is: I am expecting and dreading a Republican victory. But if you want a bit more than that, read on. And if you don't have long to read this, as you are perfectly entitled to be, what with this being a blog and everything, you can always take a look at the other stories and bookmark the first one for later.

Hell, who am I to give you advice? This blog is for you, not me. I hope you enjoy it. Until next Sunday then.

McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet
God Save The Queen
Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes
Alex Ferguson is a tosser
Admin: a word to the wise

No blood on the carpet, but then it wasn't that dirty a fight. The first televised debate between John McCain and Barack Obama has been and gone and there was no clear winner. It was a surprisingly clean affair, with Obama's assertiveness, using the words "when I'm President", seeming a bit incongruous in a debate between two candidates striving to seek legitimacy rather than state a case for election.

Whether this will last remains to be seen. But equally fascinating were the shenanigans on McCain's side beforehand. The Republican candidate tried to postpone the debate to allow a greater concentration on the current financial crisis. He did not succeed.

It may look like weakness, but trying to delay the debate was actually a very shrewd move by McCain. Not only did it give the appearance of a candidate in touch with the common man worried where his money's going; it neutralised the blow the financial crisis has had on his campaign by showing that he acknowledged the problem and wanted to resolve it straightaway. Obama, on the other hand, was in danger of appearing a power-hungry outsider not interested in the people he wants to lead.

But he pulled it back with aggression and good old common sense. You want to help the economy, John? Don't we all? But people want to know – now – what you're planning to do and I don't see why that should happen behind closed doors. Doing two things at once is an integral part of leading the country and hey, if you're not ready to do that, I'm happy to step in.

The bail-out is interesting. It looks like a bit of a rabbit out of a hat, but it was always on the cards. Matt, the cartoonist in The Telegraph, drew a fantastic cartoon, reproduced here with thanks, that sums it up quite well.

And the debate itself? Well... it's complicated – which is why analysts are choosing to strip it down by saying that McCain won on the all-important foreign policy front, but it was essentially a draw. I'm not sure about that. Obama made the better points but McCain made the better appearance and sadly, that's what's going to count. I would say that although neither candidate emerged a clear winner, McCain probably just edged ahead in the stakes.

He drove home the experience card. I mean, he rammed it home. Everything new that Obama suggested was brought back to his alleged inexperience, and although that is his stock response, McCain was able to highlight

his own experience to bring up good decisions he made on foreign policy (apparently there are some) earlier in his career. At one point he reacted to Obama's plan to negotiate with foreign threats by saying, "So let me get this right: we sit down with Ahmadinejad and he says, 'We're going to wipe Israel off the face of the Earth' and we say, 'No, you're not'? Oh please." That was damaging. Even though McCain was parodying Obama's supposed naïveté to an extreme, it made the Democratic senator a laughing stock in the hall and suggested he's... well... just too nice to tackle terrorism.

McCain automatically has the problem of having to admit to mistakes the Republicans have made in office, but he's somehow working it to his advantage. "We Republicans came to power to change government, and government changed us." Humility, however false. If Obama points out errors made in the Bush administration – such as landing the country in $700 billion of debt – then unless McCain is personally involved he can reply, "Yes, we've made mistakes, but I can change that", or even "I regret that mistake but I've learnt from it", bringing him back to the advantage of his experience. He also wins the award for stating the obvious: "We cannot allow a second Holocaust – let's make that very clear." Thanks for that, John.

And most powerfully, he can rally the troops. He used the debate over the financial crisis to say he has a fundamental belief in the American worker, whom he claims is better than any other in the world, to pull America out of this hole through sheer hard work. Who cares that an individual's hard work can't pull a country out of a $700 billion debt? McCain realises how much sweat I put into my job. He's on our side, unlike that black commie. I'm great! We're great! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Combine this with Obama's perceived class-related elitism and you have a problem: how can he win the blue-collar worker away from 'working man' McCain? Yes, this is bollocks, but that's their respective reputations in working-class America.

Obama's wry humour on politics can not only undermine him beside McCain's serious 'I care about American people' approach, but also appear patronising. Saying things like, "We had a 20th century mindset that basically said, 'Well, you know, [Musharraf] may be a dictator, but he's our dictator'" can come across as belittling the American public, suggesting they can't understand global politics without it being dumbed down, and however true that may be, that's not an image you want. It's a shame, because Obama has a head for a great turn of phrase, but his superb rhetoric may well act against him, not for him.

He also stuttered a bit in the debate, which I wasn't expecting, and has the unfortunate verbal tic of saying "y'know" a lot. However quickly he says it and however hard he swallows it, that "y'know" makes him appear less confident and less certain about his views. McCain's catchphrase seems to be "I'll tell ya", which is a lot more grabbing. Amazingly, his is often the real oratory.

The fact is that McCain 'won' the debate, at least on foreign policy, because he connects with more Americans. If one candidate responds to a question about Russia by talking about energy resources, and the other says he looked into Putin's eyes and saw three letters: a K, a G and a B, guess which will have workers talking by the water cooler about him. Yes, it's cheesy, yes, it's glib, but it's popular and it's going to win him the election.

I'm sorry. Excuse my pessimism. But mark my words: come Christmas, John McCain is probably going to be President of the United States of America.

We're in trouble.

Not another poll saying the Tories are ahead of us. I'm not holding a bloody election. I'm Prime Minister, not Cameron. We need to do something. What do people care about? Quick, Bryant, hand me that Daily Mail. Ah, the monarchy, eh? Very well – let's do something about it. That'll show 'em who's boss.

After a constitutional review by MP Chris Bryant, the Government is planning to rejig the way succession of the throne runs in this country. The law stating that Catholics cannot be King or Queen, and indeed that anyone inheriting the throne must make before parliament a declaration rejecting Catholicism, is to be thrown out, and so too is the requirement that the crown is automatically passed to a male heir. This means that Prince William's firstborn would be monarch upon his death even she was female.

It's a sound suggestion that obviously makes a lot of sense – there's no reason why even monarchy, the least democratic concept in the country, should be party to sexism and Catholic-bashing. I'm sure it's news that thrills Catholics and women alike, not to mention Catholic women. Finally, that insurmountable barrier is gone. They too can be Queen.

Hang on one crazy little minute though – don't you still have to be part of the royal family to do that? Isn't there some sort of requirement for someone to be born to a monarch to become one? Isn't this basically a minor amendment to an undemocratic system, perpetuating an antiquated outdated practice through supposed modernisation, and probably designed to get people behind the Labour Government again even though it affects them in absolutely no way?

I do love how people are celebrating this 'widening out' of succession, as if anyone can be King or Queen of the country now. It doesn't quite work like that. And it's a bit stupid to claim the current rules prohibiting women and Catholics from taking the throne 'clashes with the Human Rights Act'. The whole bloody idea of monarchy clashes with the Human Rights Act. Stop trying to polish a tiara-shaped turd.

Still, it's just making it fairer to those who are in line to the throne, and that runs deeper than you might think. The current law banning Catholics from the throne also applies to sons and daughters of Catholics, and those who marry them (honestly, this makes Catholics sound like mutants or something). Earlier this year Princess Anne's son Peter Phillips married Autumn Kelly, who was baptised a Catholic. He would have lost his place as 11th in line for the throne (blimey, that was a close one) but Kelly recanted her Catholicism.

Things have changed a little since the days of Thomas More. Put a crown and a sceptre in front of a wavering Catholic and they might just do a quick St. Peter impression – Jesus who?

Are you CTD? An FLK? NFN? How about GROLIES? Let's hope not. But rest assured you won't be for long – these abbreviations are falling out of fashion.

In medical circles these terms used to be thrown around like confetti, but apparently, no longer. Since you ask, they are acronyms used to describe patients, and just to warn you, most of them aren't that positive. CTD means 'Circling The Drain' (as in, dying quite rapidly), FLK means 'Funny-Looking Kid', NFN stands for 'Normal For Norfolk' (nice) and the innovative GROLIES denotes the description 'Guardian Reader Of Low Intelligence in Ethnic Skirt'.

Clearly these are brilliant, and should never fall out of fashion. My favourite was once DTS, used to describe obese patients. It means 'Danger To Shipping'. Now, though, I have fallen in love with the medical phrase TEETH, an abbreviated form of 'Tried Everything Else; Try Homeopathy'. One more secret of the medical world blown apart there.

But these acronyms aren't being used much any more, and who can be surprised? We live in a compensation culture: if you can sue somebody, you sue somebody. Twice. Surgeons are in constant fear of losing thousands if they don't get an operation exactly, perfectly right; why are they going to take risks with their job, reputation and wallet by calling a patient 'GPO' (Good for Parts Only)? What if the patient finds out? The doctor's immediately trying to settle out of court.

I don't know. Modern life is just ruining medical comedy. To quote Thornton Reed in Garth Marenghi's Darkplace: "The main reason I went into [medicine] was for the laughs – that and the pussy, and the pussy dried up a long time ago if you get my drift."

Sorry. Please don't sue me.

I've never liked Alex Ferguson.

When I was a naive young Spurs fan (i.e. from toddlerhood up until a few months ago, when I tore up my figurative season ticket through protest at how the club treated Dimitar Berbatov) I became increasingly frustrated with Manchester United grabbing last-minute equalisers/winners against us in the eighth minute of questionable injury time, and for this I blamed Ferguson's obvious manipulation

of referees and referees' assistants. Add to this his supreme arrogance, his absurd excuses and above all his incessant whining about referees being biased against his team – even though United have clearly had more luck with decisions than any other club in the world, ever – and you get a man that I would immediately consign to Room 101 without a second thought for his family, his friends if he has any, or the mistreatment of a grand Orwellian concept by BBC television.

But in recent months and years my intense hatred towards this waste of human tissue has been quelled slightly by another manager of equal detestitude (yes, I made that up). Arsene Wenger. Never before has such a whining hypocritical coward walked this Earth, and frankly I find it hilarious whenever Arsenal lose just because their manager is an arse.

But Ferguson's comments after their 2-0 win over Bolton have brought it all flooding back. Manchester United got a dodgy penalty after a fantastic tackle by Jlloyd JSamuel of JBolton was adjudged to be indecent. United took the chance and took the lead after an hour of being held at 0-0. Bolton boss Gary Megson called the decision "absolute nonsense" and "an absolute howler" (someone give the man a thesaurus). Ferguson responded, "I was surprised because it looked as though their lad got a foot on the ball," then, "But Rob Styles turned us down four or five times last year so maybe it is payback time. But he still owes us another four."

SHUT THE HELL UP. There is not some great conspiracy against your team, Fergs; on the contrary, referees have spent the last 15 years losing themselves in your colon. If it's beginning to even up now (I'm told decisions have finally been going against United) then that's justice, and to be honest, not enough of it. Rob Styles has not been giving bad decisions against Manchester United, and if he has it's pathetic bringing it up now. Let. It. Go.

I've never liked Alex Ferguson.

Sorry, just a brief bit of shopkeeping. I have recently undertaken a new university course and for my studies I will need to keep a blog. It won't be in the same vein as Huw Davies' Week Spot, and it won't be updated only on Sundays. It will be on this site, or perhaps another site connected by an internal link, but I will endeavour to keep it separate from this review of the week's events. So if, in the next few weeks, you see a new section to this blog, don't be scared - it's all part of the plan.

Thanks.

I may have allowed my fervour towards an opt-out organ donation system to take over the blog this week, so please accept my apologies if it's not as diverse as you have come to expect. It's a fascinating issue, though, and I hope that you will read it and become as passionate about it as I am.

And I've included two quickies after it as well. Generous, that's me.

Hart's in the right place
Commercial breakdown
Who You Gonna Call?

Leave it to Wales to inject some hope into the state of healthcare provision in the UK. Leave it to Wales. And it seems the British Government is quite happy to do just that.

In the interest of fairness, I should say that this isn't always down to Westminster being rubbish – well, sometimes it is – but the Welsh Assembly being brilliant. Thanks to the Assembly, Wales has free prescriptions and free hospital parking. Good, innit? And now it may have an opt-out organ donation system ahead of England as well (not that it's a competition or anything), allowing every dead person's organs to be used for donation unless they specifically request they are not, instead of the current process of getting organs just from registered donors. When it comes to healthcare, the Welsh Assembly pulls out the stops the British Government seems happy to leave in.

Seeing Edwina Hart, Health Minister of the Welsh Assembly, refuse to dismiss the possibility of an opt-out donation system is more than encouraging – it's inspiring. Often, the Welsh Assembly seems braver than its bigger brother; more adaptable to new ideas and readier to make controversial decisions, especially in healthcare. This may be because any outcry in Wales is smaller than in England – the Welsh, as a rule, aren't big on political activity (look at that turnout: a quarter of the Welsh population actively wanted a devolved parliament) – and it may be because the Assembly's jurisdiction is simply smaller, but the fact is that on a political level, healthcare in Wales looks rosy.

And in this case, it has taken some balls – ironic, since Edwina Hart (presumably) doesn't have any. She has essentially overruled the Assembly health committee's decision not to apply for the right to adopt an opt-out system in Wales. Rejecting a committee's recommendation is a statement of intent and then some: the aptly-named Hart has told politicians that a change in organ donation is going to be discussed whether they like it or not.

Personally, I can't wait. Like TV licensing chiefs, I love hearing people's excuses, sad as they are. "We have a right to keep our organs when we die." "It's wrong to take from a dead person even if it might save a life." None as yet have beaten the excuse raised by John Reid, supported by many and picked up by a writer in The Telegraph a while back (sadly, I can't find a link but rest assured it was probably Simon Heffer because the man's an idiot): "I am not giving my organs to the state." No, you're not. You're giving them to a dying person who needs them to live. Listen to yourself: surely you cannot believe what you are saying. Leave 'the state' out of it, you tit, and stop dragging politics into this simple case of life and death.

Chairman of the spurned committee, Conservative health spokesman Jonathan Morgan (boo hiss) accused Hart of ignoring "the hypothetical reasons why presumed consent could prove difficult to introduce". Hmm, not overly specific. That sounds like a pretty poor excuse to me: an excuse for an excuse, even. And the conclusion to this article – "It is possible to make a case for an opt-out system that favours the living over the dead, but it is not consent and let us not pretend that it is" – is absolute nitpicking.

People may be coming around to the obvious benefits of a system that presumes consent to donate your organs after death unless you deliberately opt out. Prospects aren't as bleak as the future for thousands of patients under the current system. Gordon Brown has given the thumbs-up to an opt-out system, and a "UK Government taskforce" – whatever that may be – is due to report on the matter in a few months. If Wales can lead the way, the rest of Britain may follow. We can only hope. Maybe in just a few years, all of Britain will be able to enjoy an opt-out organ donation system, free hospital parking and prescriptions without charge.

Then again, maybe not.

Everybody's talking about it: Lloyds TSB is ready to take over Halifax Bank of Scotland (HBOS). Halifax is just the first stop on "the journey" Lloyds TSB keeps promising us, and we can all look forward to them picking up Nationwide, Bradford & Bingley and Alliance & Leicester at various stations nationwide (including Bradford and Leicester, presumably) on the way to oblivion.

And all the repercussions of the Halifax-Lloyds merger are being considered: job losses, market shares and even the name of the new merger (I propose Lloyds TSB: Bank of Scotland, Halifax, or LTSB: BOSH for short).

One thing people haven't thought about is the adverts. Merging the incredibly irritating "Hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh, hoh hoh, hoh hoh hoh hoh HAAAAAH" Lloyds TSB tune with the even more irritating Halifax song-and-dance adverts could be the most damaging symptom of the recession. It's bad enough that Thomas from Leeds singing "Something tells me I'm into something good" has taken on ironic quantities usually reserved for standing ovations at the Liberal Democrat party conference, without badly-drawn women with big noses elbowing him out the way and yodelling melodiously at the tops of their voices.

This Must Be Stopped.

Here's an interesting one: a millionaire being chased out of his 52-room mansion by ghosts.

Obviously my heart goes out to Mr Rashid and his family, but some of the supposed supernatural activity does sound a bit... well... natural. Sounds of tapping on the wall? Voices? Mysterious figures? Ghostly presences taking the forms of their children? Is there not the slightest chance this crazy activity could be less due to Casper and his mates and more attributable to their children?

Rashid doesn't sound like he's the sharpest tool in the box. "The ghosts didn't want us to be there," he said, "and we could not fight them because we couldn't see them." I have this vision of Rashid charging around with an axe swiping at thin air. That might explain the blood stains.

Actually, yes, "unexplained blood stains on bedclothes" was another puzzle. Apparently the house dates back to the Norman period; I reckon the stains date back to a normal period. It's not much fun coming of age when you're a young girl, but I'm sure Rashid's seven-year-old daughter doesn't appreciate a national story being made out of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd been the one who told her dad it was a ghost in the first place, rather than her own body. Obviously she's a bit young to be experiencing that rite of passage at the age of seven, but they did call the blood stains "unexplained" and besides, it's never easy to tell your parents about that kind of thing – I should imagine "unexplained" isn't the half of it.

Alternatively, it's a bunch of racist landowners frightening off the rich Rashid family by dressing up as ghosts Scooby Doo-style (I heard the programme's become very politically aware these days). "Paranormal experts were unable to solve the problem." Strange, that.

My money's on an insurance claim. And so is his.

British politics has been very interesting this week. Even with a Cold War possibly starting thanks to the antics of Russia and Georgia, there's plenty happening at home to get the political pulse racing, or at least beating.

You may be wondering why I am steadfastly not writing about the Russia/Georgia situation, and the simple reason is that I don't know enough about the situation to comment without revealing my ignorance (please, no "that's never stopped you before" comments). Even after analysing the situation my conclusions are along the lines of "Naughty Ruskis" and "Silly Georgians", and that's the kind of political comment that helps nobody (Simon Heffer, take note).

But what I do have on offer for you is a hat-trick of opinions on British political stories this week, with some American election-spotting on the side for good measure.

Never say I don't spoil you.

Tories vs. Fatties
Let's talk about sex, baby
History lessons go back to black
The female of the species
Every little helps

Put down the pie, fatty, and listen up. If you are overweight or obese, you have nobody to blame but yourself. Not Bernard Matthews, not Colonel Sanders – it's YOUR fault you break the scales. Yours. Now get out of my sight and make a salad, chubbles.

This, as every reporter will tell you, is the gist of the Conservative Party's caring new approach to public health, outlined by the shadow health secretary Andrew Lansley last Wednesday. His speech to the think tank Reform, entitled No Excuses, No Nannying, attacked people’s failure to take responsibility for their self-inflicted health problems, claiming, "Tell people that biology and the environment cause obesity and they are offered the one thing we have to avoid: an excuse." Basically, the Tories are telling the overweight they have only themselves to blame.

What Lansley said is actually a little more complex than that. He unveiled proposals to fight obesity that include role models promoting healthy lifestyles, a clampdown on food advertising and asking the food industry to reduce portion sizes. Blimey, hold on to your seat – them's some radical ideas.

Not so much an unveiling as a shy reminder, then. The Tories haven't suggested anything new here, and it's not hard to see why the Government's health secretary Alan Johnson condemned them, saying, "Andrew Lansley is proposing to do nothing that isn't being done already and saying nothing that hasn't been said before." Still, the LibDems probably got carried away in saying the Tories just want to blame people for their obesity because they haven't got any ideas on how to tackle it. That's silly talk. Besides, the Tories are right: people should take responsibility for their weight and stop blaming external influences.

It is true that we live in an irresponsible compensation culture where nothing is anybody's fault (except paedophiles, who don't get to defend themselves). "Don't blame me – I'm only a monster because society made me that way." "It's not my fault I had a bad upbringing." "Jesus told me to rob that bank." We are constantly led to believe that we are all guided by social or even astrological forces beyond our control, that if you were born on the wrong side of the tracks then dealing crack to abusive teenage mothers is understandable and therefore permissible, and that anyone who actually blames someone for doing something wrong is a fascist – or in this scenario, a fattist.

Fat people cannot help being fat, we are told. But here’s the thing: most of them can. If there is a genuine medical reason for an individual’s obesity (e.g. glandular problems, physical disability etc.) and they literally have no option but to pile

on the pounds, then it's entirely reasonable to say, "They can't help it." But that's not the general argument; instead, we are made to believe that obesity isn't a lifestyle choice but an unfortunate affliction targeting the weak. There's just so much advertising for junk food, you see. And it tastes so nice. Oh, these poor, poor sufferers of the overeating disease. Does lack of willpower count as a vitamin deficiency?

Forgive me for being aggressive, but obesity is not caused by availability. Just because you can buy a tasty but sickeningly unhealthy burger for a couple of quid doesn’t mean you are contractually obliged to, in the same way that you can buy gallons of cider with loose change but you don’t have to drink it all in one go and become an alcoholic. It is a question of having some self-control. You can be flabby and still have a backbone.

The Tories' plans don't recommend anything new or useful, and should be disregarded for being largely pointless. But at least they don't protect gutless gluttons, who need to take the blame for their mistakes. It may not be easy for chronic overeaters, but at the end of the day, humble pie is still pie.

MPs are appealing to the Government to provide sex education as early as the beginning of primary school, meaning pupils would learn about the birds and the bees from the age of four.

It's easy to strip a complex suggestion down into headline-hitting hysteria – look, I did it just there and I'm not even a national broadsheet newspaper – but this plan is still concerning. The sexualisation of young children is becoming ever-worrying, and teaching them about relationships before they can even spell 'relationships' is a dodgy prospect. How sexual will this sex education be at that age? We don't know. It may just be a case of "Have you noticed how you like Mary in a different way to how you like John?" (or not, as the case may be), but until that is made clear, we have reason to be suspicious. Call me old-fashioned, but a) kids should arguably learn about relationships and sex from their parents or guardians rather than their teachers and b) they should definitely be able to tie their own shoelaces by that time.

Let it be stricken from the record that at the age of 21 I am really bad at tying my shoelaces.

There is also, I feel, insufficient evidence to suggest sex education at such an early will cut down on the unwanted teenage pregnancies that are plaguing Britain and precipitating such reactionary legislation. Hitting the problem early is always a good thing, but I can't see explanations of relationships to an infant preventing him from making a mistake many years later. One fear is that girls are beginning to have periods without knowing properly what to expect, but again, it's very unusual for that bodily change to occur before the age of 9 or 10, say, which would be a reasonable time for sex education to begin.

I just don't think this legislation would solve any problems, and I do believe it might taint the innocence of millions of young children. Colour me sceptical.

But for every absurd educational reform there's a decent one (that's probably not an official statistic), and it's definitely good news that the slave trade and the British empire are to become compulsory subjects in History lessons.

Pupils between the ages of 11 and 14 – meaning pre-GCSE students, forced in nearly all schools to take History for three years – will be taught about the likes of William Wilberforce and Olaudah Equiano and their roles in the abolition of the British slave trade (and to think, they could just watch Amazing Grace or read this blog and follow the Wikipedia links). The fall of the empire will also be dissected and the progression of civil rights for African-Americans most likely thrown into the mix as well.

It's an encouraging development for three reasons. Most obviously and most importantly, it will teach children about a massive part of Britain's history hitherto ignored by school syllabus-makers. Secondly, it shows a willingness to admit and discuss the embarrassing faults of our ancestors, rather than pretending they didn't happen and focusing instead on national triumphs such as Waterloo, the Battle of Britain and the removal of Margaret Thatcher from power. Finally and most thrillingly of all, it will end the domination of Germany, the world wars and the Holocaust over History lesson timetables.

My only concern is the idea that schoolchildren will learn about the slave trade "to help them understand modern-day issues such as immigration." Given the disgusting popularity of people having right-wing leanings these days, I wouldn't be too surprised if 'helping children to understand immigration' means 'helping children to understand that immigrants are all mass-murdering rapists'.

Still, that's just my cynicism kicking into overdrive. It's about time British kids knew the truth about slavery, before they start thinking that Sepp Blatter and Cristiano Ronaldo know what they're talking about.

John McCain may be an idiot, but he knows American politics. He's covered up his own inadequacies by focusing on Obama's supposed inexperience, he's guaranteed himself favourable press coverage by allowing plenty of exposure for most of his career and he

purposefully upset the Democratic hoedown by infiltrating their Denver conference with high-profile Republican speakers. And now, amid claims he's too old and doesn't appeal to the more simple-minded female voters as much as Barack 'Nice Smile' Obama, he has chosen a woman, Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska, for his running mate and potential Vice-President. Shrewd.

It is, of course, reductive and even insulting to suggest McCain will receive more of the female vote than he would otherwise just by having a female running mate. But that's how it works. A level of 'one of us' affects every voter to an extent – black or white, rich or poor, male or female. Having a Hispanic running mate would secure McCain the Hispanic vote. Having a ginger running mate would secure the ginger vote. And having a female running mate is likely to secure him more of the female vote. Sorry.

Palin may also win McCain the Youth vote (she's 44), the Proud Mothers Unite vote (5 children, one with Down's Syndrome) and the Anti-Abortion vote (5 children, one with Down's Syndrome), although admittedly McCain already had that one sewn up. We also shouldn't underestimate the popular vote from Stupid Men Who Don't Care About Politics But Know A Pretty Face When They See One ('masturbatory voters', as they are known): Palin looks incredible for a woman who's given birth to five children and certainly generates more interest in the pants department than Hillary Clinton.

Palin was not as much of a no-brainer choice as she may seem though. McCain's most stringent and resounding criticism of Barack Obama is that he is inexperienced and not ready to govern America. Unsurprisingly given that he's 72 himself, McCain is playing the experience card very highly. Then he goes and chooses a running mate who has been in office for less than two years. Clearly the idea is to inject some youth and excitement into, well, the Republican party, and diversity and shoring up your own weaknesses is a major part of picking a running mate – hence why Obama chose Joe Biden, a famously experienced politician into his sixth term in the Senate. Picking Sarah Palin is at best a risky move and at worse blatant hypocrisy, but it is, of course, difficult for Obama to pick up on because any attack on her pedigree indirectly leads to doubts over his own.

It is always controversial to 'take the man, not the ball' and focus on a person rather than their politics. It is doubly controversial when that person is a woman, because you are accused of rampant sexism. But in American politics is hard to consider it any other way, because even when you are picking a future Vice-President you are picking personality rather than policy. The running mate is a means to an end; someone to help you to get into the hot seat, not share it with you when you're there. John McCain himself has repeatedly said the vice-presidency amounts to little more than "attending funerals and checking on the health of the President", so we probably shouldn't believe him too readily when he says he wants to work closely with her in the White House. She's his ticket there; not his bedfellow.

And it might just work. Palin will attract some of the disenchanted Hillary supporters from the Democratic camp, who don't need much persuading – many are of the 'Hillary 12' crowd, keen for Obama to lose the election so Mrs Clinton can take over after winning the next one. The idea of wanting your party to lose is, I think, inexplicable, but there you go. Palin's appointment is also helping the Republican party to provide a more united front than the Democrats are doing at the moment, thanks to Clinton & Co (though they have triggered one of the best acronyms in recent political history: Party Unity My Ass).

The sad truth is that John McCain is probably going to win this election. Seeing how he and Sarah Palin cope will be interesting. Personally, I'd have preferred Michael Palin. Now THAT would be a story.

Victory for pedants everywhere.

It's surprisingly easy to get the news in Madeira. I know I shouldn't be surprised - Funchal is a popular tourist spot on an island off the coast of Portugal, not a windswept rock in the middle of a cultural black hole - but given that all I'd be able to understand in a Portuguese paper would be 'Obrigado' and 'Cristiano Ronaldo', and considering how difficult it can be to get foreign-language papers in the UK, I find myself delerious with delight at seeing an English newspaper, even if it is The Mail.

Truth is, there's a newsagent's on practically every corner offering an impressive range of English rags. They're printed in Europe and imported as soon as they can be, generally being ready to buy around lunchtime. They're also quite expensive: a Guardian costs me €3.90 (about £3.25), which I personally think is a bit cheeky. Still, it's worth it to keep up-to-date and free hotel internet access makes a happy Huw.

And, you may be asking, why aren't I off enjoying my holiday instead of lying in the sun beside a rooftop swimming pool, admiring a spectacular view, drinking a cool beer and writing what I think about the world?

Well, I'm committed, 'tis all.

(So committed, in fact, that I got a bit carried away with these stories and they turned from blog posts into epic blog posts into full-blown articles. Sorry about that.)

The price of progress
The appealing's Mutu-al
Flogging a dead horse (then rigorously washing my hands)

So, A-Level results time once again. And once again, it's a record-breaking year, with the pass rate topping 97% for the first time and more As being awarded than ever before.

Shit! Disaster! Continuing success! A-Levels must be getting easier. If seven-year-old twins can get a D in an AS-Level Maths paper, how hard can it be? Void the results. Better still, scrap the entire system. When one in four results are As and one in ten pupils are getting three of them – and when my old school comes first in the national league tables (schwing!) – something must be wrong. Right?

Or maybe – just maybe – schools are getting better, pupils are getting cleverer and those twins are just geniii. Maybe this reaction to A-Level results is the wrong kind of euphoria. I know it's terribly British to fail and everything, but when the Government is discussing plans to reduce the number of happy, successful pupils, it makes you wonder what they want from them.

To be fair, some changes in the A-Level system may be required. 5000 pupils who went on to get three As were turned away by Oxford last year, and that number is expected to have increased this year. Pupils are doing so well that it is becoming harder to distinguish the best of the best. But that's not their fault, and I resent the automatically negative response towards them, as if they have chosen an easier ride; as if they have taken advantage of the system; as if they have cheated in some way. No, their results are not meaningless. Regardless of how easy to attain good results may or may not be, most pupils have worked bloody hard for them and we can't – or shouldn't – take that away from them.

But while hard-working, intelligent pupils are missing out on university places because others are doing just as well (again, no one's fault), Something Must Be Done – but to help them out, not set them back. There needs to be a better way of setting apart pupils with similar results, even if that does mean more work for them. It's fairer on them in the long run.

So what's to be done? Here are a few suggestions off the top of my head, and off the tops of the heads of others (i.e. I've stolen them from existing plans).

--- Drop General Studies. It's pointless, nobody takes it seriously (least of all universities) and even if you don't revise for it, it takes up lesson time and exam period time that could be spent revising for real subjects.

--- Encourage universities to demand four A-Levels from a student instead of three. More results = a greater chance of differentiation. I'm not sure about this one, because although there's room in a student's timetable for a fourth subject (seeing as most drop one after AS-Level) it would increase workload and resultant stress to potentially harmful levels. Admittedly this would separate the men from the boys – statistically, the girls would probably be fine – but three A-Levels are stressful enough (in fact, pupils' stress levels are apparently higher than ever before). Still, one to think about.

--- One Government plan is a university-style dissertation to be taken alongside A-Levels, in the form of an extended project. I think this would be good. It's more suited to Higher Education, helping students to prepare for the intellectual rigours of university and helping universities to gauge who the more promising applicants are. It would also encourage A-Level pupils to show a bit of initiative, accustomed as they are to the highly specific narrow-field approach to learning, with practice papers and mark schemes telling them exactly what to write (though plans are afoot to change this). A pilot of the dissertation scheme saw pupils discussing global warming and voting ages (danger: General Studies!) but another approach could be to incorporate the longer study into a subject. This would avoid too much added workload (see above), though the current plans are for the projects to be worth half an A-Level, not a whole one.

--- Introduce an A* grade. This is probably going to happen in 2010 and provided it's hard enough to get one, it should help significantly. Incredibly, some big universities have said they'll ignore the A* system because it will favour better-prepared, better-educated students from more affluent areas. What the hell?

--- Interview more students. Whatever happened to the university interview anyway? If you have two or more students of precisely the same academic calibre, it only makes sense to compare their performances in an interview.

--- Leave the International Baccalaureate well alone. It's crap. Just say no, kids.

--- Most importantly, leave the poor sods alone. They've done what they were told, worked hard and achieved some good grades. What benefit is there in telling them they're worthless?

Sport often welcomes greed – just look at Michael Phelps' diet, guaranteed to get kids begging their parents for the right to eat handfuls of crap all day – but Chelsea FC really rolls out the red carpet. That's the common perception, anyway, and it's hard not to agree when the club tries to fine an individual nearly £14 million for an indiscretion four years previously.

And, to the probable indifference of Roman '£12 billion' Abramovic, it has succeeded. Adrian Mutu will have to pay the London club £13.8 million in damages

(depending which paper he reads – some reckon it's actually £13.68 million). Mutu, now at Fiorentina, was a bit of a scamp in his Chelsea days and in October 2004 was caught red-handed and white-nosed chin-deep in trough full of cocaine. All right, that's a slight exaggeration: he tested positive for cocaine after Chelsea got suspicious he was up to something, having put in some lacklustre training performances (not surprising: if you're being paid five-figure sums of money a week for doing very little you should at least look like you give a shit). Mutu was sacked by the club, banned from football for seven months and had to pay a £20,000 fine. Such is the price of coke these days.

And now Chelsea want £13.8 million from him in compensation. For what, though? What did Chelsea suffer as a result of Mutu's shenanigans that justifies demanding that amount of money from him?

Reputation is the first thing to spring to mind. Employing cocaine junkies isn't exactly keeping up appearances. But when you consider they're not exactly beloved by all anyway, how much did Chelsea's reputation really suffer from the bust? Not much. Not at all, really. Mutu got the flak, and rightly so. The PFA (Professional Footballers' Association) accused Chelsea of failing in its “duty of care” towards their players in sacking Mutu; after all, he'd committed himself to rehab and was having a difficult time of it, what with his wife and kids having left him (the reason he'd fallen into drugs in the first place). But Chelsea received almost universal support for their decision, because it made professional sense – they bought Mutu to play football and he got himself banned from the game for seven months. It doesn't matter that he would have spent most of that time on the bench. Harsh as it was, Chelsea made the right decision, and people knew it. And how cares what the PFA thinks anyway?

The real issue, of course, is that Chelsea want their money back. They feel a bit short-changed from the £15.8 million they gave Parma for Mutu's services (in 2003!), and want the player to reimburse them. But, come on, guys... really? Water under the bridge, man, water under Stamford Bridge. Besides, in the world of professional football faulty purchases don't have a warranty. You can't seek compensation for a signing that went awry. If you could, you'd think Chelsea would want some money back from the £10 million they paid for Chris '28 appearances, 1 goal' Sutton in 1999.

What it comes down to is that Chelsea want Mutu to pay for showing them up. That's pretty unreasonable in my eyes – and £13.8 million? That's just plain greedy (especially when you consider it was originally £9.6 million and Chelsea appealed to make it more).

Mutu is expected to appeal. Damn right. He's got himself clean – time to wipe the slate clean as well.

Blimey.

An article I wrote on obsessive-compulsive disorder that some of you may have read recently got snapped up by that excellent purveyor of high-quality journalism The Guardian and was in G2 last Monday (the 11th). Obviously I´m very proud, and not above plugging it wherever possible. But given that this blog is me commenting on what I read in the papers, I thought I'd share my views.

On the whole, the piece was fairly well-written and not too painful to read, but I would have appreciated more information on OCD rather than one individual's relatively minor battle with it. This, I understand, was in its original publication in Cardiff University's award-winning newspaper gair rhydd, but giving the readers what they want demanded a more personal approach, I hear. Never mind - it was interesting to read about the chap's issues. He clearly needs to get out more.

Not sure about the photo, either.

Looking at all kinds of news stories over the course of the week, you can't help but feel there's a lot of hostility in the world. As a highly-opinionated budding journalist, I like to think I'm adding to that.

Sarkozy upsets the Irish
London upsets the tourists
Pattinson upsets the balance of the English cricket team

The most amusing news for me this week was the EU’s understanding and diplomatic response to Ireland’s snubbing of the Lisbon Treaty. Ireland’s general public said ‘no’ in a referendum on June 12, and this week Nicolas Sarkozy, President of France and kind-of-President-of-the-EU-until-the-end-of-the-year, basically told them to try again and get it right this time.

Strangely, the response to his response hasn’t been that positive. The Irish are very proud of their referenda – any potential change to the Irish constitution must go to a public vote – and having sent a serious message to the EU and helped Poland and other member states to throw a spanner in the works they don’t really fancy the ignominy of being treated like an unruly child. After all, the power is theirs. If they keep saying no, the Lisbon Treaty can’t go ahead. Simple as.

Sarkozy has recently tried to explain his position, arguing that the EU needs to operate and can’t wait on the Irish forever because, “We will need to know a little in advance under which legal system, Nice or Lisbon, we will be making these decisions” (the wonderful irony there, of course, being that the Irish rejected the Nice Treaty as well). But the Irish have made a decision. It wasn’t a maybe. It was a no.

The bigger question for me is whether they should have had a referendum in the first place. The basis of Western democracy is that we have the power to elect people to make decisions for us, and then complain when they do. An attractive loophole is that if a massive issue arises, we can vote directly on it (theoretically). But for a referendum to make any sense, the issue can’t just be sufficiently important, but sufficiently simple as well.

The (brilliant) comedian Marcus Brigstocke put it well in his Planet Corduroy tour: “Yes, ask us questions we couldn’t possibly know the answer to. Please ask me something, I am utterly unqualified….I can tell you what the dividing line will be between the ‘Yes’ and the ‘No’ camps: it will be whether or not you had a shitty French exchange when you were a teenager.”

And he’s completely right. My bet is that very few Irish voters know the ins and outs of the monolithic slab of paper that is the Lisbon Treaty. They’re effectively voting on whether they like the EU or not. Now that’s OK if you’re voting on whether or not to join the EU or even the Euro (even if you can’t know the in-depth economic details, it’s a sufficiently big decision for the public to have a right to vote on it), but not in this case, perhaps.

The Sunday Telegraph has revealed that London is an expensive city for a tourist. The world continues to spin on its axis.

This cannot come as a surprise to anyone who has ever tried to do the tourism thing in London. “Two tickets to the London Eye, please.” “Certainly, sir. That’ll be £390.”

Sorry, that’s a gross exaggeration. As if anyone working for the London tourist trade would be as deferential and polite as to call you ‘sir’.

Anyway, the study calculated that for a family of four to take an open-top bus tour and visit the city’s top nine tourist attractions (including the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace and Tutankhamun live in person at the O2) would cost, in total, £550. If you’re looking for a comparison, Rome would cost only £216 for an equivalent day out, New York £376 and Paris – including the Eiffel Tower, Disneyland and the Louvre – £386. Riots not included.

You could argue, reasonably, that you’re paying for better attractions. Dublin may cost less than a third of the price on the same axis, but the tourist spots include Trinity College Library and the birthplace of George Bernard Shaw. Without any disrespect to Dublin, that’s not quite on the same scale as what London has to offer.

But this is not to excuse its extortionate prices. Madame Tussaud’s costs £27 in Hong Kong and £50 in Berlin, but £85 in London. There’s no excuse for that kind of overpricing. Maybe it’s hard when they’re stopping you walking in the street to take photographs and constantly asking the way to the Houses of Parliament, but you’ve got to treat tourists with a little respect.

In my extremely biased view, London could learn a thing or two from Cardiff. Not only does it have free prescriptions and free hospital parking (hurrah for the Welsh Assembly), but free museums as well. London claims its museums are free, but only when they feel like it – one-off exhibitions cost a bomb.

Of course, not everything in London costs money, and seeing the city’s undiscovered delights is definitely the way forward. It also might persuade tourism bosses to drop their prices at little. And for me at least, while Westminster Abbey’s great and everything, few experiences can top a walk through Hyde Park with a 99 and having a healthy political debate with a complete stranger at Speaker’s Corner.

Not that I stole the ice cream, obviously. I did have to pay for that, I suppose.

In sport, Padraig Harrington defied the weather to retain the Open, Lewis Hamilton defied his own team to win in Hockenheim and South Africa beat the English cricket team into a bloody pulp.

With questions over Hawk-eye and sportsmanship just on the first day, controversy was at the forefront and no more so than in the shadowy figure of Darren Pattinson. You may well ask who. The Grimsby-born, Australia-raised 29-year-old’s selection ahead of a plethora of proven stars and promising hopefuls can only spell bad news for English cricket.

Not that it’s Pattinson’s fault, of course – he was as stunned as anyone else to be called up for the English national side. And not just because he has a broad Aussie accent. After all, Kevin Pietersen was born and raised in South Africa, not to mention former English greats such as Tony Greig, Allan Lamb, Graeme Hick and Nasser Hussain all hailing from the southern hemisphere. No, the problem with Pattinson’s selection isn’t his nationality – it’s his pedigree.

When Pattinson walked onto the pitch just weeks short of his 30th birthday, he’d played just 11 first-class matches in his career. Yes, 11. Ever. Two years ago he was a roof-tiler. You simply cannot throw such an inexperienced player into a Test Match and expect him to do well.

Much was spoken about England’s decision to go with a five-pronged bowling attack, but it was hardly a sharp one. In fact, it had as much penetration as a spork. What with Andrew Flintoff playing his first Test in 18 months and Monty Panesar extracting little spin from the typical Headingley pitch, Jimmy Anderson and Stuart Broad had a tough enough job without Pattinson chucking down harmless wobblers.

This is not to mention the adverse psychological ramifications of such a random selection. Steve Harmison expressed concern that Pattinson was selected ahead of him. Matthew Hoggard mentioned the possibility of international retirement. How it must feel for the likes of Harmison, Hoggard, Simon Jones, Chris Tremlett and Kabir Ali (6-58 for Worcestershire at the weekend), knowing they’re effectively next in line for a place only for Pattinson to come in from nowhere. It’s not even about Muggins’ Turn; to pick Pattinson on form alone (29 first-class wickets this season at an average of 20.86) is crazy, especially when Harmison has taken 40 at 23.1, and knows a bit about Test cricket.

Pattinson just isn’t good enough for Test cricket – or at least has not been given the time on the county circuit to prove he is. He’s inexperienced. He’s Australian. He can’t bat (a problem, given England’s tail). And at 29, he’s not one for the future. Why pick him?

He also dropped an easy catch. Maybe he’ll fit in after all.

[Monday’s edit: incredibly, the selectors’ idiocy has been surpassed by that of Kevin Pietersen, who, required to bat for at least a day to give England a chance of a draw, hit 4 4 1 4 before getting himself out. 13 from 5 balls. Just what England needed.]

Huw Davies is a young writer and sub-editor pursuing a career in journalism, spending his time reading articles, writing articles and watching Neighbours. He recently completed a postgraduate diploma in magazine journalism at Cardiff University, a course so rigorous he developed pneumonia.

Huw is now sub-editing at Haymarket's Medical Imprint, while also maintaining a weekly Premier League predictions blog on fourfourtwo.com. Occasionally, he gets one right.

Before this work began Huw wrote for a wide range of publications, including G2, Psychologies, The Big Issue Cymru, The South Wales Echo, One In Four magazine and The Essex Chronicle, who still owe him a phone call.

His most successful work was arguably for Cardiff University’s award-winning weekly student newspaper gair rhydd, editing the Editorial & Opinion section and writing fortnightly columns under the pseudonym Rasputin. Huw won four Cardiff Student Media Awards, including Best Interview for a one-to-one with Welsh rugby hero Shane Williams and Best Opinion Writer two years running. The judges were impressed with a selection of articles written under the guise of Rasputin on subjects ranging from education reform to links between his beard and international terrorism.

The fourth award came with a feature in gair rhydd, which more importantly won him the coveted Student Journalist of the Year award from leading mental health charity, Mind.

Huw confronted his problems with obsessive-compulsive disorder to search for the truth about the condition in a piece that judges called a "down-to-earth take on living with OCD", "imaginatively written from first-hand experience". Huw accepted the award at Kingsway Hall Hotel in London, where he met Mind President Lord Melvyn Bragg, who has giant hands. The piece also saw him shortlisted for Best Diversity Writer at the Guardian Student Media Awards.

Having graduated from Cardiff University with the postgraduate diploma in magazine journalism and a BA Hons in English Literature, somehow finishing second in the year and achieving a First despite spending most of his time playing snooker (much to the amusement of anyone who saw him try), Huw is settling into working life and wondering whether he should update his blog more often.

Shortlisted, Diversity Writer of the Year, Guardian Student Media Awards 2009
Runner-up, Best gair rhydd Section (Editorial & Opinion), Cardiff Student Media Awards 2008

You are looking for opinion writing that either a) shows versatility and good research or b) tells you something special…So Huw Davies’ ability to blend personal experience and some decent research findings just topped my bill.

Huw Davies and Chris Croissant deserve congratulations for putting together such a diverse and original set of articles.

A gripping and well-written feature which managed to be informative, non-self-pitying and witty.

Huw writes with both authenticity and rigour, balancing personal experience and thorough and creative research in his feature with a high degree of professionalism... This was a strong example of the voice of someone with personal experience breaking down the stigma surrounding the condition.

Huw Davies – ah Huw Davies again – makes the OCD spread so much fresher by approaching it from a personal point of view.

Keeping The Faith, Keeping The Facial Hair (November 2007)
Why is it excusable for the authorities to treat Muslims (and me) as potential terrorists?

Living With OCD (August 2008)
A look into obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), as featured in The Guardian's G2 supplement

Living With An Obsession (February 2008)
My original look into obsessive-compulsive disorder

Williams the Conqueror (March 2009)
An exclusive interview with Welsh rugby legend Shane Williams

Blair. Fair. (February 2007)
The Government's firmness towards Catholic adoption agencies spells good news for gay parents

Poor Old John Prescott (June 2006)
Leave the big guy alone

Bland Designs (May 2008)
The ambitious plans for Cardiff University's Students' Union building make absolutely no sense

Vocation, Vocation, Vocation (February 2008)
Underqualified graduates have overly theory-based degrees to blame

Highlight Of The Year Or A Right Summer Balls-Up? (June 2008)
Whoever organised Cardiff University's Summer Ball doesn't seem to care about the students

The Rise And Rise Of Moral TV (October 2007)
Programmes need to stop preaching

There is a scene at the beginning of the movie, 'Miracle', when Coach Herb Brooks (played by Kurt Russell) is telling the US Olympic Committee that he want to teach Team USA to compete with the dominant Soviet team. A team that had been the dominant force in world hockey for nearly 2 decades.

One of the committee members snidely remarks to Coach Brooks, "That is a pretty lofty goal."

Coach Brooks replies, "That's why I want to pursue it."

Prior to the 1980 Olympics, to talk openly of even competing with the Soviet hockey team was viewed as lunacy. Yet, one man was bold enough to dream of it. And we all know how that turned out.

We all participate in this sport for our own reasons. Maybe its to lose weight, to look better, to be healthier, to meet cool people, or to travel to cool race destinations. Maybe the goal is simply to finish your first triathlon and maybe even cross an Ironman finish line. These are the goals that we talk about in polite company. These are the aspirations we share with our friends and family when the subject of triathlon comes up.

But do you harbor secret dreams? Do you fantasize of loftier achievements in this sport than the ones we share with those around us?

What if you put those secret dreams out in the open?

Anything is possible.