One one things

So the other day I heard that there would be a play based on the Wizard of Oz sometime soon. This is one of the many famous kids stories that I never really read or heard. When I was a kid i didn’t read much, I’d be more at home playing street cricket, stealing the neighbour’s fish and taunting the neighbour’s daughters. Even my bedtime stories were not out of books, they mainly consisted of my grandfather’s own childhood adventures. Stories of how Simon trapped the fox who came from the mangroves to eat the chickens, the story of the rampaging Bullock cart, the one about the rabid dog who terrorized the village and so on. I’d find these far more entertaining than reading about some little girl in England who went to visit her grandmother in the forest. So I’ve missed out on a lot of the famous children’s literature, and this is a bit of a shame as well. On a hot day in Trinity term ‘03, we decided to move to the garden in christchurch for our classical econ tute. And in passing, the tutor said that it was in this garden that Carrol was inspired to write Alice in Wonderland, and that if you look over the wall, there’s still a little shop called Alice’s shop which was apparently the original shop to which Alice would go in the story. He then went on to spend 15 mins explaining the double meanings and allegories in the story and all kinds of fascinating things, none of which I can now remember. But that day I thought i really must catch up on what i missed out on as a kid, so i went to waterstones and picked up a copy of Alice in Wonderland. I still haven’t read it fully bc it never really captured my imagination, but I will give it a shot later.

So anyway, the Wizard of Oz was another one of those stories that I wanted to get to know after I learnt something pretty interesting about it, again, from economics. I remember bugger all about this story, I just remember some tin man (who i often mix up with the scarecrow, I tend to picture a scarecrow made of tin), and I remember that big lion who I mix up with the lion from the Neverending story. To finally get away from the digressions, I was reading something about inflation after I spoke to a central banker, and it transpires that the Wizard of Oz is actually based on the political economy of inflation. So here’s the story. In late 19th Century USA there was a massive deflation in prices which was associated with the monetary policy of maintaining the Gold Standard (where money is only in the form of coined gold, so that money supply can’t increase massively and therefore keeping inflation under control). Problem with this is that the amounts of gold available aren’t flexible, and therefore can’t keep pace with the rate of economic growth, hence the deflation in the late 19th C, where there was far more economic output than money in the system. (The opposite is true in SL today, with far more money in the system than goods and services, driving up the prices of goods). Anyway, this deflation was bad news for debtors and good news for creditors, and in this case the debtors were rural farmers and creditors being big bad bankers. A suggested solution to the problem was a shift to the Bimetallic standard where silver can also be used for coins, thereby allowing greater flexibility in money supply and an inflation in prices, which would be good for debtors. In the presidential election of 1896, this was the leading issue, and the republicans wanted to preserve the GS (surprise surprise) and the democrats wanted the bimetallic standard to help the farmers. Bloody softies.

The Wizard of Oz, is about this issue. Dorothy, the little girl who is lost far away from home, finds three friends. The Tin-man (industrial working class), the scarecrow (farmers), and a lion who’s bark (roar) is worse than its bite (bite), (the democratic candidate). So these four go along the yellow brick road (representing the gold standard) amidst much difficulty, to look for the wizard (the republican cadidate). They finally arrive in Oz (DC), where everyone sees the world through green glasses ($$$s). The Wizard, who tries to please everybody, turns out to be a fraud, and Dorothy finally solves her problem by discovering the powers of her silver slippers. (Though the movie showed the girl’s slippers as being made of ruby rather than silver).

So I thought to myself hmm, now’s as good a chance as any to finally see the full story. But it turns out I’ll be out of town that weekend. Damn shame. The boys are getting buggered at the SSC, so I got myself a free Saturday morning. Maybe I’ll start on Alice in Wonderland then.

I was due to start work today, but annoyingly this hasn’t transpired. I’m usually quite partial to being idle, but this seems to have changed after 1 year of bumming around in university. I now have to wait for a series of formalities to take place to start work, and this is likely to be quite a while so i need to find something fun to do. I got in touch with my former boss today and asked him if i can sell him my mind for a bit, he hasn’t replied. But then i only mailed him this morning, so my degree of angst is quite apparent. I’ve spent the last few days reading Bill Bryson’s short history of nearly everything, 500+ pages of science for dummies. It’s quite good, he makes geology readable, and geology is usually only any fun when one is stoned. But he does paint a fairly scary picture. From what i’ve read so far we could be whacked by an asteroid, similar to that which put paid to the dinosaurs, at any moment with pretty much no warning. And yellowstone park in the States is apparently one whopping volcano (a caldera to be exact) which usually blows every 600,000 years. The last time anything of a similar scale erupted it left the earth’s human population at about a 1000 ppl. There would have been some serious shagging to get us up to 6 billion, well done chaps! But worryingly yellowstone last went to town 630,000 years ago. We are due. Americans, i knew they’ll be the death of us.

But besides the doom and gloom the book is great fun. I like the way Bryson gives a lot of background about the scientists who came up with all these clever clever theories, and as he says, sometimes the wonder is not the science but the brilliance of discovering it. There’s also lots of juicy gossip about the likes of Newton, who once poked something sharp into the back of his eye just to see what will happen. Curiosity didn’t kill the Newton. Nor his retina. Unfortunately like most things i read i’ve forgotten 90% of the clever things i learnt, and will therefore fail to impress ppl with little snippets in a day or two. Poor form. But for those with a good memory, this book is an excellent way to impress ppl who won’t scratch too far beneath the surface.

In other arty farty news, I watched Checkpoint last night and was quite impressed. The first play was very very well acted. I know little about drama/acting, but i’m quite sure that one man show was very well done, it could easily have been over-acted, but it was done to perfection with lovely timing throughout. The one complaint about the first play was the slightly unrealistic and stereotypical plot. If you haven’t seen it avert your eyes for the rest of the para. The wife going to the chief minister and being held prisoner is a touch far fetched and the whole evil minister thing is a bit old. But happily enough the excellent acting more than makes ammends. The second play was one of the most innovative pieces of theatre i have ever seen. Given the short preparation it was very well done. Again from my amateur perspective, the sound and lighting was cleverly done, the broom stick thing was well dramatized and effective. The auction scene was clever i thought, it showed how numbers of deaths etc. have become just that, numbers and propaganda. I took home a similar message from the doll scene, where the deaths of the kids was wielded by both parties as the sword of propaganda, completely masking the pathetic death of 63 (or 41) kids, no matter whether they were terrorists or first aid trainees. The doll scene was quite distressing, specially how Tracy stabbed the eyes of that doll. Powerful stuff, the death of innocence, well portrayed by the actresses.

The third play drew mixed reactions. The acting was among the best of the night, and that says a lot. On comparing notes with others who had seen it the night before, it seems the plots were completely different on the two nights. In this light, the quality of what I saw deserves even more commendation. The principal completely stole the show. Portraying the role beautifully with perfect timing and poise, his only drawback was that he didn’t look like the average cane wielding school principal. But everyone was superb, I really can’t complain about the acting. The drawback from the third play was the wisdom of using forum theatre in such a setting. I felt the crowd was too big to have effective forum theatre. Yesterday, and i’m told saturday night’s performance too, was drawn out and a bit too much of a drama class for my liking. It would have been ideal for a smaller group of ppl. That said, kudos to Stages for daring to be as innovative as they were, very pleasantly surprised to see that sort of thing in Sri Lanka. Overall, very enjoyable and must be watched by anyone who enjoys and supports drama.

Ah hot off the press, old boss replied, I got a temp job, woot.

One of my bigger regrets in life is not bothering to learn any sort of music when I was a small fellow. I remember during assembly at Royal all the band kids used to come with that melodica gadgematics and I’d giggle and think what sort of deranged kapuwa set up a bagpipe with a piano. I was happy enough getting burnt in the sun playing cricket, and playing badminton in what could well have been a sauna in narahenpita. But of late I’ve been thinking damn shame, should have bitten the bullet and at least fiddled around with a melodica bc playing an instrument is a good thing, if nothing else to impress the paler sex.

So it wasn’t with much hesitation that I said “shuper let’s do it” when a friend suggested we invest in a couple of guitars and pull a few strings (and maybe in due time pull more than strings). Went up to that Yamaha place a few days later, eyes popped when the bugger said to buy one for 10grand, and then popped back in when he said he’ll put a discount. My bank balance from last year’s work is slowly being eaten away, so this better be a good investment, and I better start work, sharpish. The first class was a hoot. I thought it was going to be one on one but to see there were wholesale buggers and buggerees there, of all ages. Two little tots ran up to me and shouted “aiyay aiyay which school do you go to?” , now I love this, when ppl think i’m at school or uni or something. That sort of mistaken identity is good, but the other day I was at DHL and the bugger called me miss. Bad form I thought so i went and chopped off the excess locks. So anyway I grin and tell the buggers that I quit school a long while back. Apparently those two are in year 6 in Royal and Ananda, I said Ananda hodi, buth kannay madi, and the Royalist was thrilled. But back to the class, it was as I said, a hoot. There were about 8 buggers, all playing different tunes, of varying quality, and everything was just very haphazard, but in a chilled out and fun sort of way. Now my friend and I have literally no clue about music, so the teacher asks us a bunch of stuff and we grin like idiots and shrug shoulders in unison.

We took a stab at learning C, G minor and F. Not too tough to get the fingers in place, but the bitch is trying to shift from one to the other. But happily enough we couldn’t hear ourselves playing over the noise of the rest of the class and the two small buggers having a yelling match over who has prettier hand writing. So after a few initial struggles the teacher got us all to listen for a few seconds and everyone started to play the same song. He told us to just put on C and try to strum along and catch the rhythm. And it sounded awesome! Like one big jam session, and we really got into it and it felt like we properly belonged with the big boys. I thought to myself, this guitar business is quite the piss in the park, the only problem being fairly painful fingers.

So then I went home and thought must show off my new skills, and started to play Come back Lisa for ammi and Teqbeq, who clearly didn’t appreciate this piece of wood that makes noise. And fair enough too, I sounded awful! Playing alongside everyone else lulled me into thinking I too had caught the rhythm and sounded just as good. My friend complained of the same problem, so we thought best to get together and put a practice session of our own. And last night we played a bit and it became quite apparent that this is going to be a long long road. Apparently one problem is that you really need to hold the strings down precisely and firmly, and this is no easy task bc the fingers keep slipping with time, and specially when shifting chords my fingers have a mind of their own. The best way to test if you’re holding it right is to pull each string and see if it sounds dodge, if so you’re buggering up royally. But at the same time we did become a tad bit better in that short time, we learnt a couple of new chords and got a bit better and shifting chords too. So hopefully with lots of practice we can improve upon our current duet of Come back Lisa (where I play C and she plays g minor). To our credit we invented a bass version of Louie Louie. Rockstar (insert cool band name) here we come!

I was wondering today when I stopped listening to music. I started liking music when I was about eight or nine and even then I used to listen to it properly, but somewhere down the line I stopped, I think it was during the last 5 years. Today was a bit of a puk day, one of those days when nothing seemed to go right, everything was getting on my nerves and I kept feeling that I need to punch something. I couldn’t study after making dinner bc my powers of concentration had clearly abandoned me and that didn’t help my mood so I decided to do what I used to do when I was small. I Grabbed my Ipod and went into my room, cut the lights, put volume as high as I could, closed my eyes, and listened. It felt like I had come home after a long trip, that feeling of familiarity and comfort. I didn’t open my eyes for about an hour, I stopped thinking and I let myself drift.

I realised what I had been missing for so long. When I was younger, every evening I used to put my walkman on, get into a pair of shorts and go to the to the top of the road, sit down and listen to whatever cassette I had picked that day. I’d listen and let nothing else get in the way, no day-dreaming, just listening to the words, the way the instruments come together and blend in with the vocals, the story being told, I’d close my eyes and see the bass guitarist strumming his chords, the pianists’ fingers dancing to and fro and the drummer’s arms wave about creating a haze. Every now and then I’d hear something particularly powerful and I’d physically feel the music as a chill runs through my body leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. Later on when I was studying for my AL’s I used to kickback at the end of the day after dinner with a glass of iced tonic with lime, a nice armchair on my balcony and listen to the Late Late Request Show which I had recorded from the night before. I loved that chill in the air, the light breeze that somehow doesn’t disturb the stillness, and that solitude that is so precious.

Tonight I felt it all over again, the peace, the solitude, the goosebumps, everything. I made a promise to do that more often, just me and my music. It feels slightly criminal that music has just become background noise of late. I only seem to have some music on while working, while on the tube in an attempt to make the journey shorter and basically only while doing something else. As a result it feels like I’ve missed out on a lot, it’s sort of like reading an abridged version of a great piece of literature, you get the basic idea but miss the whole point, like 20-20 cricket. Here’s to the real thing and to the men and women that make it happen.

For all the joys London has to offer, the best is the Westend. One of the few shortcomings of Colombo is the lack of regular high quality theatrical and musical productions. You get the odd good show from time to time, but nowhere enough to do justice to the talent that I am confident is abundant in Sri Lanka. So the Westend to me was a whole new world. I got my first taste of it in July last year when I watched Phantom at her Majesty’s theater when I was here on holiday. I spent much of the time gaping like a goldfish at the splendor of the set. I was hooked. I knew that one thing I had to do over the course of this academic year was to catch as many of the Westend shows as budget and time allowed. I’ve done a fairly good job so far, the following is a taste of what I’ve seen.

Phantom of the Opera - I saw this last year with my mother before I started university. Phantom is a classic. It combines an amazing set (make that several amazing sets, starting with the breathtaking elephant scene, the falling chandelier, the sublime boat scene, the amazing costumes in the masquerade and many many others), top notch opera and a quite decent story. Everything about Phantom is larger than life, everything is so glamorous. I’m not a big fan of Opera myself, but unlike most operas i’ve been to, the story in Phantom is easy to follow. The musical score is excellent, and the musicians did it justice on the night. Songs like Angel of Music, Music of the Night and the Phantom of the Opera are brilliant. I can’t think of too many criticisms, except that it possibly ran 15 mins too long. Phantom is one of those must sees, I’m really glad it was the first of the Westends that I saw, bc it’s a great introduction.

Stomp - My westend partner in crime is my housemate, and our first target was Guys and Dolls, which she really wanted to see. Unfortunately the show was sold out so we hopped a tube from Picadilly circus to the Strand to see if Chicago had any vacant seats. Apparently not. Close by another show called Stomp was showing, and I had heard it was unique and fun so we thought what the hell. The trick with the Westend is to go an hour before the show and in most theaters they will give you the best seats available for under half the usual price, if you are a student (or particularly old). This is a good thing bc otherwise tickets are fairly pricey, the decent seats are upward of 35 quid. So Stomp, managed to get ok seats and settled down to expect the unexpected. It’s difficult to classify Stomp, it’s certainly not a musical, it’s not a play and it’s not comedy. I guess the only way to describe it is performance. There’s no story in Stomp, what they try to do is to make music out of everyday objects from brooms to pencils to dustbins to sinks, and throw in some athletic dancing and drama. There’s a group of about 8 performers who do this over several scenes from the work place. Some of them are real characters who without speech manage to create humour using mime, a bit of slapstick (not too much) and general comic timing. Timing. That’s the key to Stomp, everything is beautifully choreographed, the performers work together beautifully and all in all pull off a show out of pretty much nothing. That’s what is most impressive about Stomp, they use very limited props and create “music”, rhythm, dance and a show. The most memorable scenes were the emptying sinks and the massive drum fest at the end. The only criticism is that sometimes the noise gets slightly too loud and you might get a bit of a headache. But in general great fun, great rhythm and great entertainment. And utterly unique.

Lion King - We caught Lion King on another failed attempt to see Guys and Dolls. This time hopped the tube to Covent Garden at 7.20 to catch the 7.30 show, we got £45 tickets for £17.50, a superb deal in any book. Squeezed in at 7.30 for the opening scene, The Circle of life. I don’t think i stopped smiling from that moment. The stage and the set is massive and elaborately done, the music excellent (loved the drummers on the sides) the costumes are brilliant, the little baby elephant is probably the cutest thing you’d see at the Westend (the hyena costumes were slightly dodge though).The nice thing about Lion king is that most ppl know the music already so you can sing along to yourself (if like me your voice is best limited to the shower) and the music is really really nice. I was a bit apprehensive about it at first bc I had a feeling it might be slightly kiddish. And though much of it would appeal to kids, there’s plenty in there for the older ppl too. The one thing that was not too flash about Lion king was some of the acting, not to say that it was bad, but it wasn’t stand out as such. In summary, Lion King: Costumes, set, music and fun.

The Woman in Black - Went to watch this pretty much bc of a deal on lastminute.com. Got £30 tickets for a tenner. The web is another ok place to buy tickets, specially lastminute’s website has good stuff and some decent deals on something or the other at some point. Another way to get tickets cheap is to go to Leicester sq or Covent garden on the day of the show and buy from one of the many places selling theater tickets (it’s hard to miss, they’re well advertised). (But then I know ppl who’ve lived in London for 1.5 years but don’t know how to find China Town in Leicester sq). That said, Women in Black was a real dark horse (pardon the pun), very pleasantly surprised at the end of the show. The story is a quite basic ghost story, and one would expect a rather elaborate set and special effects in order to pull off an appropriately chilling theatrical horror. But no, Woman in Black was probably the most minimalist production of the ones I saw. It involves very basic props, just 2 actors who play all the roles, and one ghost. The story is chilling enough, but what really makes the show tick is the acting. It’s quite simply very high class suspense acting and good use of sound effects. It isn’t as scary as they make it out to be, but it’s scary enough. It would however have been even better if the final twist was a bit more subtle, most ppl guessed it half way through the show.

The Producers - An outstanding musical comedy. Again went to this based on some good reviews and recommendations without knowing what it’s all about. It’s a Mel Brookes production and originally starred Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane (found this out yesterday). A very brief synopsis is as follows. A fallen from grace Broadway producer realises that productions that flop can be used to quietly embezzle cash since the money boys don’t pay much attention to them. So he goes about trying to assemble the worst possible production, the worst play (Springtime for Hitler), the worst actors and the worst director. The story follows this production process and culminates in the actual play itself which is simply hilarious. There’s a bit of slapstick (again not too much), a bit of profanity, a lot of potentially insulting innuendos but all very classily amalgamated into a fine performance. I laughed pretty much non-stop, though the second half dragged ever so slightly (the prison scenes were out of place). My favourites were within the performace of Springtime for Hitler, including the Swastika scene, the girls in the tanks and Hitler’s brilliant emergence. The score is witty and original, the set is again impressive and plenty of humourous detail obviously went into the costumes. Overall, extremely funny, and a must see for anyone with a sense of humour.

Chicago - Chicago is all about the music. They have a quite brilliant band which takes an unusual position on the stage itself reflecting their critical role in the production. The conductor himself is quite a character, he jumps around, and really knows how to work the crowd. The story isn’t remarkable, nor are the costumes, the set isn’t elaborate but they make excellent use of the available space and props. But I can’t reiterate enough the significance of the music. I strongly recommend having a listen to the songs prior to watching it bc you can then sing-a-long and enjoy it all the more. I particularly loved the songs All that Jazz, Mr. Cellophane, Razzle Dazzle, The Cell Block Tango and We Both Reached for the Gun. The voice of the guy playing Mr. Flynn is amazing, Roxie and Velma are both impressive singers though they didn’t quite look the part. But maybe I’m expecting too much after Mrs. Zeta-Jones. For me the jazz band stole the show comprehensively, they really bring the performance to life, helped by a brilliantly written score in most places. It’s also a really good idea to buy the CD of the official London recordings, though it’s a bit pricey at £15, it’s certainly worth it. Anybody who likes jazz, big bands, swing music, or just girls in tight see through clothes, go watch Chicago at the Strand.

That’s all I’ve seen so far. I’m very keen on watching Les Miserables and Guys and Dolls, and I’m likely to end up watching Mamma Mia, Sinatra (coming Tuesday if all goes according to plan) and maybe Billy Elliot. Will post on these in due time. Until then, check out The London Theater Guide for a gateway to the Westend.

I was listening to some Ben Harper on a chill sunday night and came across this gem. It’s called Burn one down and it’s available on the Fight for your mind (1995) album. Ben Harper is fabulous if you like chilled out, melodic, folky sort of music. If you liked this also have a listen to Oppression, Fight for your mind, Excuse me mister, Mama’s got a girlfriend now and Walk away. I like this particular song bc it echoes some of my views on individual freedom. The recent ban on smoking in public areas in the UK is in my opinion an overdue act, and some have opposed it based on the grounds of it abusing individual freedom. This is not correct bc smoking affects third parties in the form of passive smoking, particularly the ppl working in the public place in question. If you want to smoke you ought to do it in private without adversely affecting the health of others. The strange thing is that smoking in public places has been allowed for an age but other substances like cannabis are looked upon in a far less favourable light under the law even when consumed in private. In Burn one down Harper makes a case for the legalization of the private consumption of ganja.

Burn One Down

Let us burn one from end to end,
And pass it over to me my friend.
Burn it long, we’ll burn it slow,
To light me up before I go.

If you don’t like my fire, then don’t come around,
‘cause I’m gonna burn one down.
Yes, I’m gonna burn one down.

My choice is what I choose to do,
And if I’m causing no harm, it shouldn’t bother you.

Your choice is who you choose to be,
And if you’re causin’ no harm, then you’re alright with me.

If you don’t like my fire, then don’t come around,
‘cause I’m gonna burn one down.
Yes, I’m gonna burn one down.

Herb the gift from the earth,
And what’s from the earth is of the greatest worth.
So before you knock it try it first,
Oh, you’ll see it’s a blessing and not a curse.

If you don’t like my fire, then don’t come around,
‘cause I’m gonna burn one down.
Yes, I’m gonna burn one, oohhh.

In September a friend of mine lent me a book called Freakonomics saying that it’s a very interesting read. I don’t normally trust her judgement in books and more often than not I end up returning them after a few weeks with no more than a chapter complete. This book however was different. I read the first chapter the day I got it and I was hooked. Unfortunately I was flying to England that night so I couldn’t continue till I got back. I finished it in a couple of sittings bc it’s extremely readable. It’s written by Steven Levitt an economist at Uni of Chicago and Stephen Dubner a writer for NY Times. The idea of the book, I think, is to show that empirical data is not what it seems to be at first glance. They question conventional wisdom by taking a closer look at empirics, and they explore some very interesting ideas by asking some very interesting questions. The best part about the book is that it’s a breath of fresh air to anyone who loves economics. I’m sure there are plenty of others who did A/L economics and loved it, but then went to university and got utterly and completely put off by the mathematics involved. Well, after reading Freakonomics I got a reminder as to why I loved econ in the first place.

The book starts by taking a look at the wonderful things we call incentives. The first question they ask is what do sumo wrestlers and school teachers have in common? and go on to discuss the incentives behind cheating. If a day care centre starts to fine parents who get late to pick up their kids, you’d expect the amount of parents getting late to reduce right. Right? Maybe not. In Israel a day care centre imposed a fine of $3 per hour of lateness and found that the incidence of parents getting late increased. There are two incentives at work here, the incentive from the fine and the guilt incentive. The fine allowed parents to “buy” away the guilt incentive and $3 per hour was not high enough a fine to override the guilt incentive.

The second question asked is how real estate agents are similar to the Ku Klux Klan. In this chapter they look at the role of information in reducing the power of “experts” and the role of the internet in this. The KKK was brought down by a guy going undercover and exposing their often child-like secret codes to the public and causing much humiliation to members. They show that there is racial and age discrimination in the Weakest Link (a show on daytime tele in England and for a while in the States). The third chapter asks why drug dealers live with their mothers despite the fact that the media portrays crack dealing as one of the most profitable jobs. They tell the story of an economist who lived with a Crack gang to discover the similarities between the Coccaine industry and McDonald’s.

One of the more controversial arguments of the book suggests that crime rates dropped in the States in the 1990s due to the legalization of abortion in the 70s. The argument is interesting, the theory is that kids who would have been aborted were the ones who are most likely to be unwanted kids. The parents were either not ready, not willing or not able to raise a child appropriately, and therefore naturally the kid wouldn’t have the most stable and solid upbringing and make him/her more likely to be a criminal. Furthermore abortion used to be very expensive resulting in only middle and upper class parents being able to afford one, and poorer ppl being less able to do so. As abortion became cheaper more poor ppl were able to afford it, reducing the number of kids born into poverty and therefore reducing the number of kids likely to engage in crime. The legalization of abortion meant that these unwanted kids did not make an appearence in this world and therefore the crime rate fell 20 years later. It seems a fairly water-tight argument, but it was challenged in The Economist last week. I haven’t as yet read that article but i’m sure it’s worth a look.

Finally the authors explore the art of parenting. Would you be happier to have your kid go to play in a house where the parents keep a gun, or in a house which has a swimming pool but no guns? The answer would naturally be the latter, but statistics show that more kids die in swimming pool accidents than as a result of gun related incidents. So why do we fear guns more than swimming pools? Bc our notion of risk is a combination of outrage and hazard, guns have a high outrage factor but low hazard factor whilst swimming pools have a higher hazard factor but minute outrage factor. Outrage trumps hazard when it comes to affecting our assesment of risk. This chapter also looks at the nature vs. nurture argument in the resultant lives of children and questions obsessive parenting.

Overall, the book provides some very interesting and compelling arguments. You don’t have to go away buying everything the writer’s say, but what you are likely to do is to go away being a bit more curious about the world and a bit more sceptical of conventional wisdom. For me the most important lesson was in differentiating causation and correlation when it comes to data. I find myself easily persuaded by statistical analysis and far too easily infer causation from correlation, a grave error as has been pointed out by Steven and Stephen. I strongly recommend Freakonomics of economists and non-economists, it’s got something in it for both parties. The book’s website can be found here. It includes a blog by the writers. Happy reading.

I just finished my 4th non-academic book for this term, and that’s a lot by my standards bc usually in term time I get enough academic reading to completely put me off reading for pleasure. But living in London means lots of tube travel, and that means finding something to do instead of reading the Metro, reading over other ppl’s shoulders or imagining life stories of ppl on the tube. So far I’ve read Namesake, Dylan’s autobiography, Flower Boy by Karen Roberts and just finished High Fidelity by Nick Hornby for the second time. I find it exasperating that soon after I finish reading something I totally forget the better part of the book. Actually this extends beyond books to movies, lectures, most conversations, trips and well most things really. This is one of the functions of this blog, to try and cling on to some things later on when I would have otherwise forgotten them, i’m a sucker for reminiscing. Anyway, I decided to buy High Fidelity recently bc I was thinking about it and realised that I don’t remember anything besides the fact that it’s about a guy who owns a record store and about his romantic liasons, and of course the fact that I loved the book. I’m glad I read it again, it’s still superb. A sketch of the plot is as follows, Rob is a middle aged chap who runs a record store in Cowley in London and has just broken up with his girl friend and realises that he’s struggling to get over her. This makes him trackback to all his previous relationships and try to find out why and where they went wrong. The book is a journey of self discovery and has incredibly honest insights into human relationships, from a male perspective. Hornby doesn’t coat things with sugar, everything is very real life and often quite bitter. There’s not much happily ever after, lovey dovey, head over heals, forever and always, till death do us part stuff. It’s more about the not so fun side of relationships, the stuff that happens after the first few months of bliss, the boredom, cheating, lying, insecurity, avoidance and pain. The great part is that he still manages to write with a tremendous sense of humour and this makes you want to keep turning the pages. I’d recommend the book to everyone, guys in particular, there’s a little bit of all of us in there somewhere.

But my favourite part of the book has to be the stuff about compilation cassettes. Rob is obsessed with them, and so am I, and we’re part of a rare breed, even rarer given the fact that Rob doesn’t exist. In my opinion the best gifts to give are music and books. At least that’s what I’d love to receive. And there is no greater gift than a personally compiled cassette. Now you’d think, hmm, wait a minute, shouldn’t he be saying CD’s? No. I like cassettes, I like the fact that they’re old fashioned, that they maybe slightly cumbersome, that they tend to die a bit earlier and that they only store about an hours worth of music. But there’s something about cassettes that makes me associate them with music, more so than CDs and MP3 players and what not. Digital music is all well and good, it can store everything you’d ever want to listen to and you can hear it with precision quality at the touch of a button, but there’s something synthetic and impersonal about them, that’s where cassettes I feel steal the show.
It’s all very psychological and silly, snobbery even, but then that’s me.

Making a compilation tape is an art. I tend to start off with something chilled out, maybe some reggae/soul/folk music to ease the listener into an hour’s worth of musical pleasure. After a couple of songs bring in something more alternative and then something marginally heavier. End side A with something that makes you nod your head and start to feel the music in you, something that makes you want to switch to side B. The start of side B needs to catch the listener where he left off and not let her/him drift away. I usually like to go back a few years, something a bit retro but with a good infectious beat to it, maybe a bit of Paul Simon, Doobie Brothers maybe. Then again go back to something with less energy but more depth, Counting Crows, Dave Matthews and finally end with a classic like Led Zep’s Kashmir or maybe some Pink Floyd. There are a few rules. I try to avoid putting the same artist twice on one cassette, and never the same artist back to back and always stick to progressive rhythm as opposed to one fast one slow, that’s just confusing.

I used to give everyone compilation tapes for their B’days and what not, but now that’s changed. Ppl seem to expect stuff with more “substance”. Compilation tapes are alrite but they need to be topped up with something else. Giving presents is hard work, I never know what to buy ppl, specially girls. I mean, buying clothes for yourself is trying at the best of times, I hardly know my waist size let alone collar, wrist, bust, crotch and what not sizes. Trying to buy clothes for girls is just impossible, it doesn’t help that there doesn’t seem to be a standard dress/shoe size. There’s a european size, american size, japanese size, pregnant size, and God knows what else. They don’t really give us boys a chance do they? And girl’s shoe sizes is another mission. Now, I wear size 10 shoes, but my housemate wear’s size 5, and her feet aren’t half my size! wtp?! The other option is jewellry, but girls can be incredibly picky creatures. They’d look at two seemingly identical things and fall in love with one and totally disregard the other. So what options are left? Perfume? Again, slightly dodgy, what if they don’t like that smell? Can just rely on some brand and hope the person doesn’t care about the odour too much. But then that hits the pocket more than I’d care to have it hit for most ppl. Soft Toys? How can soft toys have more substance than a compilation cassette?! And that’s usually the point at which I phone a friend and plead for advice. Failing which I buy a couple of original CD’s or a CD and a book, and must make sure that M Entertainment label is still on to ensure that I spent more than 400 bucks on their gift.

That said, it’s a fitting time to contradict all that I have just said and confess that I have sold my soul to consumerism. Yes, I now own a fully functioning Ipod. My saving grace is the fact that it’s a shuffle and is one of the least sophisticated of modern Ipods but it is an Ipod nonetheless. My housemate was selling her’s in order to upgrade to the new black Nano which is apparently a good deal better than my new friend. Unfortunately for cassettes, however much sentimental value they have attached to them, a walkman won’t quite fit in my coat pocket and will run out of batteries within a day’s usage. The shuffle is small, slick, has good sound and stores 10 CD’s worth of music, and for my current purposes functionality pips sentimentality. (If the latter is a word). So today I took to the tube a bit more of a Londoner than before, book in hand and earpieces firmly in place, shutting out the rest of the world one sense at a time. I do however have to get used to not singing the words of songs slightly louder than planned, today I was muttering the chorus of “Three Little Birds” and I got a few worrying looks from the dude sitting next to me. But I’m excused, I had just received the good news that I can do my dissertation from home which means I can get back to SL for summer.

I discovered a new TV program recently. I tend to enjoy cookery programs, I think it goes well with my general machoness and oozing testosterone levels. But the F word, Gordon Ramsey’s latest offering, is something else. It’s not just about cooking and what to put and what not to put in your tasty dish, it’s about the whole culture of food, and in his words you’ll enjoy the show if you “cook everyday or have never cooked in your life.” Quite right I think. So on the last show I discovered a couple of scary things. First up, in the last 50 years the average male human sperm count has fallen dramatically. And not bc more males are watching cookery programs. But bc of the food we eat, and i’m not surprised too, all those chemicals and what not. Apparently males who cook are in more danger bc their private parts are close to the stove so the little buggers get heated up a bit more than they ought to. So girls, if you thought men who cook are the way to go, go the other way. Doesn’t change the fact that males are generally the better chefs though. So thats what restaurants are there for no? Anyway, back to sperm counts. The way to bring them back upto speed is apparently to eat the following, a lot of fish (the omega oils are handy), lots of nuts (don’t giggle), vegetables and fruits. Avoid coffee/tea (oops), skipping breakfast (oops), sugary stuff (oops) and alcohol (phew). Right, so that’s me sorted then. If I were to ask you who would have the greater sperm count, men or hamsters, who do you think it would be? If you thought hamster you’d be right. Hamsters have 160 Million sperm per ml (I think) whilst us chaps (on a good day) have only 60 Million per ml. Bad form. Outgunned by hamsters, no wonder those buggers breed so fast.

Also, if you’re considering buying sausages from tesco or sainsbury’s, don’t. The economy sausage in these two supers consists of just 32% meat, the other 68% is made up of connective tissue, fat, skin etc. And this is the legal limit. One tip is that packets labeled “Pork Sausages” consist of 42% meat so is a safer bet compared to those simply labeled “Sausages”. All this from one episode of the F word, along with how to cook pigeon and venison. In other good news, Henry is working after 9 days without heating or hot water. As much as I enjoyed having baths out of a big baaldiya of kettle heated water, I’m glad to feel nice hot water from a tap. If you want British Gas to get off their arses tell them you have asthma and that you’re going to sue them unless they show up, and produce a horrible wheezy cough on the phone, that showed them. Ha.

It usually takes me a very short time to get homesick, it’s taken me almost 2 months this time. A combination of horrible weather, a broken down boiler, a few complications from the females of the species and the ever-present shadow of work, is not a good one. It just makes me want to say “nope, enough of that shit, i’m going off for a bit.” But no, I’m stuck here in front of the comp making notes on the influence of ideology on political outcomes. Right now I’d love to be in SL, a hot afternoon, at the old Commons having a coffee and a sandwich with a friend(s) and just chill. Or even at home, in my room, with my little Lab, a Bob Marley CD, a nice book, sarong, arm chair, cool thambili, ahh, c’est la vie n’est ce pas? But what’s to do, it’s just for one year and then i’ll be done at last, might as well make the most of this opportunity to live abroad.

I put on one of my two baila CDs, a welcome change. I’m often surprised by baila, the lyrics, though not profound, are so witty, melodic and clever. And at the same time they have a beat which is infectious and just makes you want to move. Dancing to baila is one of the most fun things to do, specially at parties, weddings and cricket matches with all your friends, it’s like you’re given a licence to be silly. (In fact I once went to a funeral where they had Baila. Our buggers one thing, any excuse for a party.) I particularly love the time of the evening when everyone joins a koachchiya and produces one big chain of energy and fun. The other time baila comes to the fore is on school trips. Bus journeys are never as fun without a solid baila session. Anything has the potential to become a musical instrument on these trips, empty bottles, chairs, windows, heads, anything within grab’s reach really. For some reason those sessions have the potential to go on forever, everyone contributes at least one line, specially the songs where individuals’ names are inserted into each stranza to make a different story each time. It’s funny how I know the lyrics of all the bastardised versions of Sinhalese songs and none of the proper versions, thanks to hours on school buses I guess. Unforunately baila is never quite the cup of expat teachers’ tea, they would forever complain about the “incessant beat” of Thararay thara poaduda, Baby, Thambi kadey and of course the Raptararara song and its many many extensions. They knew that profanity was being used each time we’d laugh aloud for little reason and would roll their eyes accordingly. Some of my favourite stanzas are;

There was once a man from Ceylon,
Who wished he’d never been born
He wouldn’t have been if his father had seen
that the tip of the condom was torn.

From the depth of the crypt in St. Giles,
Came a scream that resounded for miles
Said the Vicar, “Good gracious,
Has father Ignatius forgotten the Bishop has piles?”

There was once a man from Moratu
Who tried to bugger a Muththu,
The Muththu said “Thu! Umbay Ammata Hu!”
And burnt his Bush with a suruttu.

Sigh, good times. Sri Lanka, how I miss you.