Idea of the Week: #2

Another week rolls around and another brilliant idea has entered my head. Again, this one was born from a conversation on a bus with Lloydy; and again, he has failed to recognise its sheer brilliance. This is, however, a good thing, as it means that the idea is mine by default.

CANALS

We see on the news more or less every day about the impending dangers of climate change. Whether it's George Monbiot whining in The Observer about how motorsport will kill us all, or Dr. Graham Plankton of Friends of the Planet explaining on ITV4 that driving to work every morning destroys an area of rainforest the size of Norfolk, or the cardigan-wearing fruitarians picketing a moderately-sized semiconductor factory in Shanghai on the basis that "it's killing the planet, man," the issue of global warming is upon us. The polar ice caps are melting at an alarming rate, which will cause widespread animal and plant extinctions, flood every coastal area on the planet, and, most drastically, cause all those beard-wearing liberals to turn around and say "I told you so" in that irritating nasal way of theirs. In short, climate change is a problem that has to be tackled.

This is why I am proposing a solution so brilliantly simple - and simply brilliant - that only one country has to take it up before everyone else will recognise the error of their ways and quickly follow suit. I'm talking about canals.

By replacing Britain's extensive road network with a system of canals, we will kill many, many birds with just a single stone. We will cut our carbon emissions drastically, as the planet-destroying waste gases emitted from cars will no longer be a problem - everyone knows that boats (particularly those driven by wind) are far less polluting than road vehicles. We will cut congestion on the way to work, as private transport will become a thing of the past given the massive expense of buying and maintaining a boat. Instead, everyone will catch the regular "Waterbus" services which will be efficient, consistently on time and definitely not run by First (who everyone knows are a bunch of incompetent cretins).

Moreover, a system of canals will be better for everyone's health. By getting rid of roads, we also get rid of one of the principal causes of road rage. Those who usually suffer from road rage will be less stressed, and those who get in their way will find themselves rolling down an embankment after a friendly "nudge" far less often than previously. Not only that, but if the idiots who do cause so much stress and anxiety on our roads (such as the moron who decides to change lanes outside the RNIB in Worcester every morning - you know who you are) can easily be dealt with when they are assisted off the "Waterbus" and into the canal.

There is one final environmental benefit to replacing our roads with canals. By doing so, we will provide many, many channels in which our ocean water can flow. As a result, global sea levels will drop, giving us a little bit of extra leverage should global warming continue for a bit longer.

In short, the replacement of Britain's roads with canals is possibly the best idea since - well, last week's Idea of the Week. If you can think of anything even better, drop me a line.

Revolutionary and environmentally friendly regards,

Red Andy

A Bus Anecdote....

....because I haven't had one on this blog yet.

Now, those of you who have spent countless hours reading my blogs will be aware of two things, a) my detestation of buses and b) the humourlessness with which I explain said detestation. It has been a while, moreover, since I have had much to complain about in the way of buses. Even the recent increase in fares hasn't affected me much, seeing as I use a pass most of the time anyway.

This morning's event, however, had nothing to do (for once) with the incompetence of the bus company. Rather, it was to do with the weather and the sheer stupidity of a fellow commuter.

It is a well-known scientific fact that rain, once produced in the upper echelons of the troposphere, descends to the ground in a process known as "falling," as driven by that mysterious force of gravity, first popularised when a tree carelessly dropped an apple on Isaac Newton's head, forcing school children for generations to come to learn just why it is that rain, apples and everything else is attracted to the ground, when it would be quite nice to go somewhere else once in a while, rather than just down all the time.

Newton also invented the Laws of Motion, which among other things state that a moving body will keep moving until an interaction with a force changes its direction. Such interactions on, for example, a raindrop, include a collision with the ground, an umbrella or the roof of a bus shelter. The raindrop only needs to collide with one of these things before it stops moving.

This basic fact of physics seems to have escaped the notice of the young lady present at our bus stop this morning. Not only was she stood directly underneath the bus shelter, but she had decided to keep her umbrella open, thus preventing anyone else from standing under the roof of the shelter. Needless to say, there were a large group of soaked and unhappy commuters waiting for the bus this morning.

It is strange that on my travels I seem to come across idiots of the sort only matched with the fools who can't find the Get Well Soon cards in the corner of the shop, and the strangers who insist on showing you the shoes they've just bought while you're trying very hard not to die. Whether or not this girl was being deliberately inconsiderate or was just being stupid, I've yet to see.

However, if it's raining tomorrow, you can be sure I won't be standing for such idiocy again. Umbrella-carrying commuters, beware.

Revolutionary and drenched regards,

Red Andy

A Right Royal University

For those of you who were unaware of this fact, I am in actuality a college student looking to continue my education for as long as possible, by spending as much of the Worcestershire LEA's money as possible in the form of a three or four-year trip to university. Clearly the decision of where to blow so much taxpayer's money is a very important one, and it was with the hope of making this decision that I went along to an Open Day at Royal Holloway, University of London today.

Royal Holloway, according to Tom, our extremely enthusiastic and definitely not dull tour guide, was opened in the 19th century by an extremely wealthy man - who, taking a wild stab in the dark, I believe may have been called Mr. Holloway - who was looking for a quick way to spend £250 million that he had earned selling chalk-based placebos as life-changing medicines to impressionable, poor people (GlaxoSmithKline, take note). This endeared me to the university straight away - I have always admired people who have succeeded in getting through life by talking bollocks.

This may explain my admiration for the Germans - deceit is ingrained so far into their society that they even have a word for it, "quatschen," which roughly means "to talk rubbish." From this stem the exclamations "Quatsch!" (Rubbish!) and "Vollquatsch!" (Bollocks!). But I have digressed from my main subject, which was the university I visited.

Royal Holloway is so unique it is difficult to describe. Imagine a collection of buildings of varying ages - most of which are horrendously ugly - and compress it into an area approximately a third of the size you've just been imagining. Then place a grand-looking Victorian building based on a French chateau in roughly the centre, and you're somewhere near what it looks like. But not quite.

One feature of the day was an "informal interview" designed for us to have a one-on-one chat with a member of staff to learn more about the university and for them to learn why on earth we wanted to study there. Some current students asked me who was interviewing me. When I told them who he was, a "Dr. Lopez," they all rolled their eyes, sighed and said: "I hope he doesn't keep you too long."

I had no idea what to expect, except perhaps that Dr. Lopez had somehow gained something of a reputation for being a little long-winded and prone to digressions. I had this strange feeling we would get on just fine.

When I arrived in Dr. Lopez's office, he ushered me into a chair. "Don't worry," he said almost immediately. "This is just a chat: I'm not going to ask you to draw the structure of ATP, or anything!"

"Good," I said, with more than a little relief. The only thing I know about ATP is that it features in the world's funniest biochemistry joke (in fact, the world's only biochemistry joke. Which explains why it's "the world's funniest" when it's not actually very funny. At all.)

Before I had been given time to contemplate my surroundings, Dr. Lopez was on his feet, drawing the structure of ATP on the whiteboard next to his door. He then went on to explain about how this related to his current research in plant biochemistry and how he had managed to collaborate with a geologist who was working just across the road, despite the somewhat obvious difficulty in biology and geology being quite different subjects.

Eventually we got around to talking about me, and I even got the chance to ask him a couple of questions about how the university worked. But not before I had been fully acquainted with what could be the world's most batshit insane university lecturer.

Although, that said, he's up against some tough competition.

Revolutionary and academic regards,

Red Andy

Idea of the Week: #1

I received an email yesterday from one of my kind readers, which reminded me that it would be wise for me to keep this blog well updated, as he had fixed the sights of his overzealous RSS on this humble page. So, I decided I'd better think of something to blog about fairly consistently, lest I be "accidentally" bombarded with a friendly computer virus or something. The kind of people who can understand abbreviations such as "RSS" can do that sort of thing, you know.

So, what to write about on a regular basis? To be honest, the ideas weren't coming thick and fast. They were coming quite thinly, actually - and by no means fast. In fact, it was more of a sluggish crawl, which is like an ordinary crawl except that it is slower. And more slimy. Then, it struck me.

This is something that has been brewing for quite a while, usually as a consequence of conversations with Lloydy on the bus home from college on Thursday evenings. But now I can immortalise this concept electronically - in the form of a (hopefully) weekly update - allowing me not only to scan my own brilliance at leisure, but allowing the rest of you to enjoy it as well. Thus, I give you my new blogging concept: the Idea of the Week.

The essential plan is that I come up with a simple idea - that may, at first, sound like it was invented by something that may not have had opposable thumbs - and explain its sheer genius to you. Then, you can impress your friends with the idea (by passing it off as your own), or, if your conscience can't bear it, refer to this page once you've explained to your colleagues and the people you've accosted on the bus what a wonderful idea it actually is. Moreover, you can contact me with your own suggestions for Idea of the Week, and maybe even see them immortalised in a blog at some point along the line.

Now that all of that is cleared up, on with our first ever Idea of the Week:

THE EDIBLE HAT

Maybe you're stuck in a lift, with no food, no water, and only a balding, sweaty oaf with a briefcase full of decidedly non-delicious tax return forms for company. Maybe you're on the move and in need of a quick snack. Maybe you've accidentally entered the lair of a mysterious race, to whom the covering of the head is a capital offence, and forgotten to remove your hat. We've all been in situations like this, and how many times have you observed a vexing situation, sighed, shaken your head sadly and said to yourself, "I could really use an edible hat right now,"?

Well, none, of course, because then you'd have come up with the idea yourself, wouldn't you? But the rest of the opening paragraph holds true. The point is, the edible hat is not just something society wants; it is something society needs.

Consider world hunger. Many of those who are starving are those who spend hours upon end on a plantation, boiling in the sweltering heat and picking raisins in the hope that the rocks they are paid in will be exchangable somewhere for enough food to feed their family. Clearly, the heat and humidity is bad for their work ethic. Unhappy workers are unproductive workers, and unproductive workers are fired workers. And fired workers, pretty soon, are dead workers. So something that could stave off at least some of the uncomfortable climatic conditions would untwist this vicious spiral. Something like a hat.

But not just an ordinary hat: oh no. Why not kill two birds with one stone, and make that hat not only a useful shade against the blistering heat, but a well-deserved snack at the end of a long day's picking? An International Edible Hat Fund, used to supply sufficient hats to the poor of the world, could solve world hunger, and increase the productivity of Third World plantations, all in a single stroke!

There are many other benefits to the edible hat, of course, but there are far too many for me to bother with typing about here. So, in short, invest in the edible hat today for a better tomorrow.

You know you want to.

Revolutionary and, quite frankly, ingenious regards,

Red Andy

Traffic, Traffic, Traffic!

Worcester, the town which I call "home" whenever I'm talking to someone who doesn't have the faintest idea where Droitwich is, is currently suffering from a spate of traffic-related problems. It's like this every December. And January. And, to be fair, pretty much all of the months from February to November. You see, when the Romans decided to found a town on the banks of the Severn, they failed to anticipate that two thousand years later, the democratic systems they contributed to inventing would install the most incompetent bureaucrats ever to grace the planet to take up their seats on Worcester County Council.

I once emailed the council to complain about the 30 minute-long queues that were preventing everyone from travelling the 200 yards up the street necessary to leave the city centre, and politely demand that they do something about it. Shortly afterwards I received a reply:

Dear Sir:

We regret to inform you that we are unable to respond to your query at this time. Many of our councillors are stuck in traffic and unable to reach County Hall.

Yours faithfully,

N. Competence

It is a tragic situation that the dinosaurs in County Hall are unable to see the traffic problems that are causing everyone else to be late for work. It is an even more tragic situation that they have failed to see the logistical problems inherent in their plans for redevelopment in the New Year: to dig up Worcester Cathedral and move it to a more scenic location up London Road.

My own solution would be to build an extra bridge across the river, invest in a Park & Ride to the west and south of the city (we already have one in the north), and introduce congestion charging for the city centre. Unfortunately, intelligent opinions such as mine are in short supply in Worcester.

Revolutionary and congested regards,

Red Andy

Bah, Humbug

Greetings, Internet Scrooges,

Yes, it's that time of year again. I suppose some of you won't be Internet Scrooges and will actually be looking forward to the fact that the most emotionally draining and tiresome festival of the year will soon be upon us. The Advent Calendar (supplied by the lovely Sian) on my wall has already been broken into - a sure sign that Christ's Mess is upon us once again.

I have never understood why so many usually rational people get so excited at the prospect of Christmas. We all spend vast sums of money, give up hours and hours of our time to wander around crowded shopping centres, squinting at price tags, standing in queues and wondering how we're really going to afford all of this, and sit around in the living rooms of various distant relatives, drinking the cornershop piss they call "Chardonnay" and explaining for the fortieth time in the last twelve hours exactly why it is that we have decided not to pursue a career in medicine. Not only that, but we have to put up with that GOD-AWFUL song by Slade being played, twenty-four hours a day, on every television and radio station, for the two months preceding the holiday itself. And there are all those horrific decorations that the neighbours insist on putting up while the rest of us are still clearing away the detritus from last Christmas.

In fact, about the only positive side to Christmas is the vast amounts of food. And the excuse to get horribly drunk on Christmas Eve and open all of your presents the following morning with a hangover the size of a small African nation. But with that aside, we can all look forward to another few weeks of unbearable family, ridiculous hats and extremely forced photogenic smiles before the New Year. Now that's a pointless holiday.

And for those of you who are about to comment, "Lighten up, it's Christmas" ....

IT'S NOT CHRISTMAS FOR ANOTHER THREE WEEKS!

Revolutionary and increasingly frustrated regards,

Red Andy

NOTE: I am well aware of the irony of ranting about the increasingly early nature of Christmas, so long before Christmas. Just in case any of you "smarter-than-thou" types thought you would point it out to me.

Welcome to the Waste of Space

Greetings, Internet Randomers.

Whether you are a dedicated follower of Red Andy's ramblings, or have stumbled mistakenly across this page during your routine Google search for "coffee + buses + bitterness," or have heard about my blogs through the roommate of a heavily bearded man you once met on a tram in Cheadle (note: there are no actual trams or tram networks in Cheadle), I welcome you to this, the third incarnation of Red Andy's Waste of Space.

A heavily bearded man you once met on a tram in Cheadle

The first two incarnations of this blog were incorporated into MSN Live Spaces, formerly MSN Spaces, formerly the glint in Bill Gates' idealistic eye. During this period, I waxed lyrical about things of such importance as coffee, buses, drunks at bus stops, coffee, work, buses, cold callers, coffee, rising bus fares, college, work, coffee and work. For some reason, a small group of sadistic Internet users actually found these tedious tirades amusing, and urged me to continue.

For some (other) reason, which I do not know - although it doubtless involved no longer giving a s**t about blogging - I stopped in the middle of the year. However, now I have taken the decision to impose my anecdotes on the rest of the world, in the hope that someone, somewhere, will have enough pity upon me to leave me a comment - even if it is just to tell me to shut up.

This, then, stands as the first message in what will hopefully be a long-lived record of my life, the universe and - well - everything. May you return, by accident or - God forbid - on purpose, and enjoy your short stay here.

Revolutionary and welcoming regards,

Red Andy