23:59 Last-minute new season Creme Egg. 00:00 Weigh-in: X stone 9 pounds (where X, for today's purposes, is irrelevant). Sigh, I have never weighed this much before. 00:02 Drink 1 pint of toxin-stripping water. 00:03 Weigh-in: X stone 10 pounds (a fat lot of good that water did me) 00:30 Embark on seven hour period of fasting (otherwise known as 'sleep') 06:25 Wake up. Realise I still have another two days off work. Go back to sleep for a bit. 07:45 Wake up. Go for a wee. 07:46 Weigh-in: X stone 7 pounds (hmm, that sleep worked) 08:05 Weigh-in: X stone 6 pounds (I appear to have lost another pound by not doing anything) 08:10 Breakfast = one cup of tea (no milk, no sugar). Vow to buy skimmed milk later. Dream of bacon. 08:45 Weigh-in: X stone 7 pounds (maybe that teabag was a bit much) 09:00 Visit bathroom for daily bowel-opening. 09:03 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (I've lost five pounds in nine hours) 09:25 Run down to the paper shop. 09:32 Weigh-in: X stone 6 pounds (jogging is over-rated. Or maybe you're supposed to do it for more than a minute) 10:35 I have a nasty feeling that, after 10 years, I finally need to up the waist size on my trousers. Walk to Oxford Street to buy some new ones in the sales. 12:05 Reach Oxford Street after a strapping five mile walk through the East End and the City. Go shopping. 12:48 Stand in some changing rooms holding a pair of W waist trousers and a pair of W+2 waist trousers. Discover that the W+2 waist trousers fit better. Sigh deeply. 12:53 Buy two pairs of W+2 trousers for work. 13:35 Arrive home (I returned by train, sorry) 13:38 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (looks like the only pounds I shed were on the trousers) 13:50 Lunch = one apple + a pint of water 14:37 Attempt 100 fitness-inducing press-ups. Fail to manage one (I have weak arms, honest) 14:57 Attempt 100 fitness-inducing sit-ups. Fail to manage one (not to any convincing degree anyway) 15:12 Go shopping for tonight's meal (that's another one mile walk) 15:58 Return with low fat mince, wholewheat pasta, apples, carrots, mushroom ravioli, a tin of baked beans, next week's Radio Times and a Creme Egg. 16:01 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (my weight seems to have settled) 16:44 Go climb 10 flights of stairs 16:52 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (I shan't bother to do that again) 17:26 Cut my toenails 17:33 Weigh-in: X stone 4 pounds (I can't believe this weight loss was cuticle related) 18:00 Go on a fact-finding mission to visit all the public gyms and health centres within one mile of my house... 18:01 ...except there aren't any, which is good because I wasn't intending to waste my life in one anyway. 18:49 Dinner = two carrots + a pint of water 19:08 Weigh-in: X stone 4 pounds (and a very empty stomach) 19:15 Settle down on the sofa to slob in front of the TV for the rest of the evening. 00:00 Final weigh-in: X stone 3 pounds (I double-checked - it's true) 00:01 Celebratory new season Creme Egg.
So, I appear to have lost six pounds (nearly 3kg) in one day. I must say I'm surprised - I never thought this detox would actually work. Having said that, the two most effective ways to lose weight appear to be a) sleeping and b) sitting on the toilet, and after my 24 hour fast I doubt the second option is going to work again tomorrow morning. However, you should expect me to publish a paperback version of my hugely successful dg Detox Diet next New Year. Anyone want to preorder?
Most of the decades over the last century have had universally accepted names. There have been the Twenties, the Thirties, the Forties, the Fifties, the Sixties, the Seventies, the Eighties and the Nineties. Just reading through that list will no doubt have conjured up evocative thoughts of each decade (click on a few of those links to see if you agree with me). Each name acts as a useful label, a one-word summary of ten years, a convenient way to refer to a particular era in our past.
But we're now halfway through the first decade after the Nineties, the ten years from 2000-2009, and this decade doesn't have a name yet. Not a proper one, anyway. Sure some people have tried to call this decade the Noughties but, let's be honest, this name really hasn't been generally accepted. You just don't hear people taking about the Noughties in the same way as they do about the Nineties or all those other decades. Apparently this has something to do with the fact that Americans never use the word nought to describe zero (they just use zero) so the word Noughties doesn't stand a chance on a global scale. Calling this decade the 2000s doesn't work either because that describes a whole century, and other suggested names such as the zeroes or the nillies or the double 0s just sound either very wrong or very stupid.
But is this really a problem? We've survived a century without a proper nickname for the years from 1900-09 (even if dying monarchs have conveniently allowed us to call it the Edwardian era instead) and there's no shorthand for 1910-1919 either (unless you allow World-War-One-ish). So maybe we'll get by without a special name for 2000-2009, or for 2010-2019 too for that matter, and only revert to normal labelling conventions once the next lot of Twenties roll round. In fact it's quite liberating not being able to label the current decade because trends in society tend not to fit into nice convenient ten-year slots anyway (Thatcherism excepted). In the meantime let's just enjoy being halfway through this decade. This decade will do as a name for the time being.
2005 anniversary quiz: Here are 12 quotations linked to events celebrating an anniversary in 2005. How many can you identify?
Answers now in the comments box, or by clicking on each date.
Feb 18th 1930: "Dr. Slipher, I have found your Planet X." (75 years) Mar 2nd 1965: "I go to the hills when my heart is lonely." (40 years) Apr 15th 1755: "Every other author may aspire to praise; the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach." (250 years) May 8th 1945: "We the undersigned hereby surrender unconditionally." (60 years) Jul 13th 1985: "Don't go to the pub tonight; there are people dying now." (20 years) Jul 17th 1955: "For those of us who remember the carefree time it recreates, Main Street will bring back happy memories." (50 years) Aug 6th 1945: "The bombardier and the pilot forgot to put on their dark glasses and therefore witnessed the flash which was terrific." (60 years) Sep 22nd 1955: "It's tingling fresh. It's fresh as ice. It's Gibbs SR toothpaste." (50 years) Sep 26th 1905: "Every physical law is invariant under inertial co-ordinate transformations." (100 years) Oct 21st 1805: "England expects that every man will do his duty." (200 years) Nov 5th 1605: "i would advyse yowe as yowe tender youer lyf to devys some excuse to shift of youer attendance at this parleament" (400 years) Dec 8th 1980: "I don't remember aiming. I just pulled the trigger steady five times." (25 years)
Within the last half hour diamond geezer has received its 150000th visitor. Which is nice. 150000 isn't an especially special number, it just ends in a lot of zeroes, but it does give me a good excuse to update my semi-regular 'league table' of top linking blogs, ordered by volume of visitors clicking here from there. This time I've also included the 'highest climbers' since my last update way back in July. Thanks to the following for linking, and thanks to the rest of you for clicking. Go on, click on a few yourself, you'll enjoy them...
Test: I made my New Year observations from a 4th floor balcony in Clerkenwell, with a wristwatch on one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. That's a proper wristwatch with seconds, not one of those fashion bracelets that merely tells you the big hand is somewhere near the blob at the top. Other partygoers were present on the balcony at the same time, but none of them were involved in the experiment. I was able to make my observations during the gap between two particularly debilitating bouts of hiccups, a condition which beset me on several further occasions throughout the early hours of the morning.
From my position on the balcony I was able to see: a) the top quarter of the London Eye, poking out above the rooftops of central London b) a rather flashy widescreen (digital) television, tuned into 'New Year Live' on BBC1
As midnight approached I watched (on television) the 60 second countdown being projected onto the face of the Shell Building beside the Thames. I noted that the TV countdown appeared to be running one second behind the time on my wristwatch. Digital television was indeed running slow, as predicted. Big Ben proved to be inaudible both on the television and in real life, but the fireworks in the sky did start exploding at the precise second when the new year began. All those present on the balcony offered copious New Year greetings and raised a glass to 2005.
I watched the fireworkdisplay both live in the sky and not-quite-live on digital television. It was hard to tell precisely how long a delay there was between the live and the transmitted fireworks, partly because it was impossible to watch both displays simultaneously but mostly because it was very good champagne. It appeared to me that BBC1's pictures of the fireworks were again running approximately one second behind the actual aerial pyrotechnics. The fireworks were much prettier on the television than in real life, for which I blame the rooftops.
The firework display lasted exactly ten minutes, finishing at 00:10 precisely. The noise from the fireworks, however, continued for a further 8 seconds. With sound waves travelling roughly 1km every 3 seconds, this suggested to me that the balcony on which I was standing lay just over 2½km from the London Eye. On returning home, four hiccuping attacks later, I was pleased to discover on a map of Central London that this measurement had indeed been accurate.
Moral of the story: Don't sip your champagne too quickly or the bubbles get stuck in your throat.
Why you're going to celebrate New Year at the wrong time
It sounds simple enough. When you hear Big Ben start to chime twelve, 2005 begins. Unfortunately it's not simple at all.
1) Digital television isn't live. If you have digital TV you'll have noticed that digital TV is broadcast fractionally later than analogue TV. Use your remote to switch over from analogue BBC1 to digital BBC1, for example, and you'll probably hear the same snatch of conversation all over again. This is because the encoding and decoding of the digital signal causes a brief but noticeable delay, and so no live event can ever be broadcast live. See in the New Year digitally on Freeview or Sky (or watch a football match, for that matter) and you'll be celebrating a second or two late. Such is progress. Test: On my TV, digital BBC1 (via Freeview) runs approximately one second behind analogue BBC1. Unfortunately I can't test ITV or Channel 4 because my Freeview reception is crap, I can't test Channel 5 because my analogue reception is crap and I can't test Sky Digital because I don't subscribe to it because it's crap.
2) Digital teletext isn't live. I already hate BBCi (the BBC's digital teletext system) with a vengeance. Here's another reason to hate it. Old Ceefax features the time in hours, minutes and seconds, because Ceefax is perfectly accurate. New BBCi only includes the time in hours and minutes, because BBCi isn't (and cannot be) accurate. Not that you'd be sad enough to see out the old year on teletext, of course. Test: When I check the time on old Ceefax it's spot on. When I check the time on new 'improved' BBCi the clock runs highly irregularly with the minutes changing anywhere between 15 and 35 seconds late. BBCi has a gobsmackingly unreliable clock.
3) Digital radio isn't live. Same problem as above. Digital radio signals take longer to process than analogue so someone with a 21st century digital radio will hear everything a few swconds later than someone with a 20th century wireless. Even the Greenwich Time Signal doesn't beep at the right time on digital radio, it beeps late, so never set your watch by it. Such is progress. Test: I risked my sanity by attempting to listen to Radio 1 simultaneously on VHF radio, digital radio and Freeview. Good old VHF broadcast everything 'on time', but digital radio was one second behind and Freeview was another 1½ seconds behind that.
4) Online radio isn't live. Not that this will surprise you. What with downloading and buffering and all sorts of other bytesize mullarkey, the BBC's online Radio Player runs very late indeed. Test: Radio 1 online runs as much as 14 seconds later than Radio 1 VHF, which is as rubbish as you might expect.
5) Analogue radio isn't live. No, really. "The transmitted signal takes a finite time to travel from Broadcasting House to a transmitter, and then from the transmitter to the radio. Of course, the further a radio is from the transmitter, the greater the delay - at 200 miles from the Radio 4 LW transmitter at Droitwich the delay is roughly a thousandth of a second - and as a compromise the pips are delayed so that they are accurate at a distance of about 100 miles from the transmitter." (more here)
Test: I couldn't test this one, but I did get my atlas out to check which places are exactly 100 miles away from Droitwich and therefore get accurate pips. Answer - Cambridge, Lincoln, Blackburn, Snowdon, Taunton, Southampton and, yes, central London.
6) Big Ben isn't accurate.BigBen's not doing badly for a 150-year old clock - in fact it's a masterpiece of Victorian chronological engineering - but even with regular adjustment it can be a second or so out. Just because you can hear Big Ben chiming in the New Year doesn't mean that the New Year has begun yet. Or that it didn't start slightly earlier. Test: Big Ben was two seconds late seeing in 1990. Trust me, I checked at the time.
7) Big Ben only chimes on time if you're standing right next to it. The BBC have a microphone positioned right beside Big Ben's giant clanger, so the sound of the midnight chime hits the airwaves almost instantaneously. Stand and listen to the great bell anywhere else in London, however, and the sound travels towards you at a rather slow 330 metres per second, just as the laws of physics decree. This means you'll hear the New Year arrive one second late from 10 Downing Street, 2½ seconds late from Trafalgar Square and 7 seconds late from St Paul's Cathedral. [You may, or may not, remember that Big Ben's aural delay lay at the heart of a particularly cunning episode of CaptainScarlet. No OK, you probably don't.] Test: I was standing beside the Thames at midnight on New Year's Eve last year, about 330 metres away from St Stephen's Tower. That means I should have heard Big Ben ushering in 2004 precisely one second late. Unfortunately the sound of the cheering crowds around me drowned out any sound Big Ben might have been making, so I couldn't confirm whether or not the theory works.
Moral of the story: Before you go out this New Year's Eve, set your watch accurately using analogue Ceefax. Or stay in and watch analogue TV. Or just get drunk and you'll neither notice nor care that you're celebrating the arrival of 2005 at the wrong time. Happy New Year, whenever it begins.
Jan: The Freedom of Information Act is launched. Government grinds to a halt when Mr Cedric Evans of Skelmersdale writes in demanding to read every civil service email containing the word 'the'.
Feb: A shock headline in the Daily Mail warns that a house price crash is imminent (see also March, April, May, June, and every other month this year).
Mar: Linda Barker launches a new range of flashing blue sofas, perfect for hiding behind during the new series of Doctor Who.
Apr: An ASBO is imposed banning tearaway teenager Wayne Rooney from venturing within 500 yards of Old Trafford.
May: A General Election is called for 05/05/05, but only those with ID cards are allowed to vote. David Blunkett is returned with an increased majority.
Jun: The new Harry Potter novel is leaked when filesharers get hold of a 30GB mp3 of Stephen Fry reading the entire book.
Jul: The IOC award the 2012 Olympic Games to Paris, who then decide that maybe they don't want 20 years of crippling debt after all and pass the Games on to London instead.
Aug: The winner of All-Nude Big Brother 6 is revealed to be an undercover Sun journalist.
Sep: The Royal Mail introduce third class post, whereby letters are delivered at random by illiterate postmen. Few people notice the change.
Oct: George Bush presses the wrong button on his golf buggy and a small Middle Eastern country vanishes.
Nov: The ban on fox hunting with dogs finally comes into effect. Red-coated snobs get round the ban by inaugurating a new sport called dogs hunting with fox.
Dec: Some ghastly disaster happens. Everything else pales into insignificance.
1) To go somewhere I haven't been before.
Verdict: Not a great success. OK, so back in January I'd never been to Stanmore Broadway, the top of the Gherkin, Hounslow bus station or the new hospital in Norwich, but those really aren't the sort of places I had in mind. 2004 is therefore memorable for being something of a repeat, geography-wise, and spatially unadventurous. Must try harder.
2) To reduce my spam intake.
Verdict: The plague of email spam has been halted, thanks to my ISP who installed spam-blocking software at the end of January. I do miss getting emails, though. Alas it seems the spammers have turned their drone-like attention to my comments box instead, but at least Haloscan seem to have them under control.
3) To keep my place tidy.
Verdict: Not bad. OK, so there are Christmas cards littering the carpet and there's a string of fairy lights down the hallway, but I believe they're temporary. Other than that, if you're one of the six visitors to my house this year I do hope you'll agree the place looked reasonably presentable.
4) To go up to anyone I see wearing more than one item of Burberry clothing and call them a tosser.
Verdict: There aren't many Burberry tossers any more, are there? The hardcore scallies have moved on (Von Dutch, anyone?), and now you're more likely to see beige plaid on a granny's handbag than a chav's cap. A year is a long time in fashion.
5) To go back to the cinema again.
Verdict: After 12 months away from the big screen, I finally made it back in May. And June and July and August and September and October and November. But not December, so maybe Hollywood hasn't completely won me back yet.
6) To shed pounds.
Verdict: That's money not weight, you'll remember, given that I am one of the world's worst shoppers. Unfortunately I remain so, and I've probably got worse this year rather than better. I barely wasted any money in 2004 on the acquisition of material goods, which has been great news for my bank balance if nothing else. Maybe I'll spot some must-have item in the January sales later today, but somehow I doubt it. 1pm update: Just walked the length of Oxford Street - spent 93p
7) To search out new and exciting webpages and stuff for all my readers.
Verdict: Like this and this and this and this, for example. Sorted.
8) To drink at least one of the three bottles of complimentary champagne sitting in my kitchen.
Verdict: No such luck. I had the means, I just needed motive and opportunity. Here's hoping 2005 has a bit more fizz.
Just the one resolution for 2005, I think...
1)Carpe diem
1) Destroy Rock And Roll - Mylo (released 24 May) "It's sort of Royksopp with a smile, or an upbeat Air, or a more modern Moby, or Lemon Jelly without the quirks. Samples from acts as diverse as Prince, Kim Carnes, Scissor Sisters and Daft Punk are mixed with grooving synth beats to create one of the freshest sounds of the year. Well I reckon anyway."
2) A Grand Don't Come For Free - The Streets (released 10 May) "so there it is, a concept album for the new urban slacker, bit of a result
minor details elevated high, for there is poetry in the mundane
it's a winner, it's a soundtrack to one lost summer, nice one geezer"
3) Scissor Sisters - Scissor Sisters (released 2 Feb) "It's not an album of cover versions but every track sounds like it was recorded this year but written by somebody famous 30 years ago. I can hear the blatant influence of David Bowie, the Bee Gees, Steely Dan, Sparks, Sylvester, at least three eras of Elton John and even some Rocky Horror Picture Show. And oh boy, against all the odds it so works."
Hmm, that's the same Top 3 I brought you halfway through the year. Has nothing better been released since June? Well, no, not really. I think this was the year that the music industry and I lost interest in each other, although not deliberately. I was planning to bring you my Top 10 albums of 2004, until I counted up my purchases and found that I've only bought 9 albums this year. I've not downloaded anything either, even though I know this is the new medium of choice. And yes, I know there have been some outstanding albums released during the last 12 months (and you may even want to tell me some of those I missed out on). But I'm hoping for better in 2005.
100 years ago today, JM Barrie's classic play Peter Pan was performed for the very first time. You know the story (girl meets flying pixie, girl flies off to magical land, girl has lots of adventures with pirates and crocodiles and fairies, girl flies home, girl grows up) but what you may not know is the fascinating background to the story...
Pan timeline
1860 James Barrie is born in Kirriemuir (it's not far from Forfar). 1866 James's elder brother David dies on the eve of his 14th birthday in a freak skating accident. 1894 Barrie marries actress Mary Ansell, an actress in one of his plays. They remain childless. 1897 Barrie meets the Llewelyn Davis brothers in Kensington Garden. He plays with them and tells them stories (not that he was, erm, one of them). On New Year's Eve he meets their mother at a dinner party and subsequently befriends the family. 1901 Barrie goes on a camping holiday with the boys at Black Lake, near Farnham. On his return he writes The Boy Castaways ofBlack Lake Island, the story on which 'Never Never Land' will be based. 1902 Barrie publishes a novel called The Little White Bird, about a childless author who meets a boy called David in Kensington Gardens and tells him stories about a character called Peter Pan. 1904 The play Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up premieres at the Duke of York's Theatre in London on December 27. It is a great success. Even the critics applaud at the end when asked to clap if they believe in fairies. "an artfully artless, go-as-you-please play which has all the pretty inconsequence of an imaginative child’s improvisation, all the wild extravagance of a youngster’s dream…" (Illustrated London News) 1906 Barrie publishes the short book Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens with illustrations by Arthur Rackham. The book is dedicated "to Sylvia and Arthur Llewelyn Davies and their boys (my boys)". 1907 Arthur dies of cancer, allowing Barrie to grow even closer to his widow and her children. 1909 Feeling rather betrayed by the whole situation, Mary has an affair and divorces her husband. 1910 Sylvia dies of cancer. Barrie becomes guardian to all five Llewelyn Davies children. 1911 Barrie adapts his stage play to write the novel Peter and Wendy, now more usually known as Peter Pan. 1912"There is a surprise in store for the children who go to Kensington Gardens to feed the ducks in the Serpentine this morning. Down by the little bay, at the south-western side of the tail of the Serpentine, they will find a May Day gift from JM Barrie, a figure of PeterPan blowing his pipe on the stump of a tree, with fairies and mice and squirrels all around. (the Times, 1 May 1912) 1915 Eldest son George Llewelyn Davies is killed in the trenches during World War 1. 1921 Middle son Michael Llewelyn Davies drowns in the Thames while a student at Oxford. 1937 JM Barrie dies, having donated the copyright to Peter Pan to Great Ormond Street Hospital in 1929. 1960Peter Llewelyn Davies, tired of being labelled 'the boy who never grew up', throws himself in front of a train at Sloane Square station.
Government intelligence suggests that an attempted terrorist attack on your home is imminent.
On the evening of 24th December a white-bearded extremist, possibly with stockings over his head, plans to break into your home and leave a suspect package at the foot of your child's bed. International police have been informed. Await deliverance.
Keep alert
• Look out for suspicious vehicles, such as flying sledges.
• Block your chimney (or buy a house with central heating).
• Leave out a glass of sherry laced with rohypnol.
• Children – be vigilant! Stay awake all night if necessary.
You may have vital information to help the authorities. If you hear sleigh bells, see an old man distributing presents in a busy shopping mall or come across reindeer droppings on your lawn, please tell the police immediately. They want to see Rudolph, Donner, Blitzen and the rest of the Rednose gang behind bars as soon as possible.
Terrorists need…
A place to live: Are you suspicious about an elderly Scandinavian gentlemen who's recently moved into an igloo down your street? To plan: Have you seen anyone pay an unusual amount of attention to your rooftop, or to those of your neighbours? Equipment: If you are a retailer, has anyone come into your shop recently and asked for a faster-than light high-capacity sled?
With your help, and with continued public vigilance, this evil empire can be thwarted. Or we'll just bomb Finland and ask questions later. One day, we hope, you'll be able to tell your children that 'Father Christmas' doesn’t exist any more.
Be reassured that overnight festive break-ins like this are very rare. Don't have nightmares out there. Do sleep well over Christmas.
Knowing what to do in a turkey-cooking emergency is vitally important.
• If your turkey still hasn't defrosted by daybreak on Christmas Day, keep calm. Don't rush about in a panic screaming "Oh my God!! Oh my God!!" because this won't help.
• Assess the injured turkey carefully and act on your findings using the basic First Aid steps listed below.
• Keep an eye on the injured turkey's condition until the emergency Paxo arrives. Then nod sagely.
Take time now to familiarise yourself with some of the more common turkey disaster scenarios below.
Consciousness: If your turkey is conscious with obvious signs of life, place your fingers on the bird's throat and press really hard. Listen for that tell-tale life-sapping squawk. Then open the rear airway, shove your hand up and pull out the giblets, just to make doubly sure that this is an ex-turkey.
Burns: For all burns, cool with cranberry sauce for at least 10 minutes, then wrap the affected parts with sausage meat and silver foil.
Circulation: Check for a pulse. If you find one then sorry, you've probably cooked a nut roast by mistake.
Shock: If your game bird has cold clammy skin when laid out on the dinner table, assume the recovery position and start mouth-to-mouth.
Fractures: Remove breast-bone. Tug sharply on one end. Make a wish.
Bleeding: Control severe bleeding by applying pressure with the prongs of a fork. If blood drips out, loosen any restrictive strips of bacon and shove the bird back into the oven for two hours at gas mark 6. Beware - many families are forced to suffer bleeding turkey for many days after Christmas.
Blockages: Still eating turkey in the New Year? You must be choking.
For a bootiful Christmas dinner, consider getting proper First Aid training. The Government's Chief Medical Officer, Bernard Matthews, recommends Delia's Norfolking Christmas (£15.99). Or just pop out to McDonalds instead.
The emergency services are trained to cope with a wide range of emergency situations, but there is a lot you can do to help yourself (especially if you spot an unlocked window on Christmas Eve).
Fire prevention and safety
• Reduce fire hazards in your home. You can bin those hundreds of highly combustible Christmas cards for a start. And always make your Blue Peter Advent Crown from flameproof tinsel.
• Most fire deaths and injuries occur while people are sleeping. That's because it’s fun setting Grandpa's beard alight while he's snoring away during the Queen’s Speech.
• Fit and maintain smoke alarms, just in case one of those fifty IKEA tealights you’ve got dotted around the house should create a superheated atmosphere accidentally causing a dangling strand of tinsel to spontaneously combust.
• If trapped in smoke caused by blazing candles, rest assured that at least you'll slip into unconsciousness anaesthetised by the smell of musk and sandalwood.
Explosives
• When you walk into your lounge halfway through Christmas morning, the room may look as if a bomb has hit it. Just in case this is true, evacuate the family immediately and contact the emergency services to organise a controlled explosion.
• Always pull Christmas crackers with extreme caution. The jokes inside may cause untold damage if not handled correctly.
• If a Christmas pudding goes off in your kitchen, try to cover the brandy-fuelled flames with a damp tea towel. Order the rest of the family to stay in the dining area away from serving hatches in case there is a second pudding in the area.
Power cuts
• If the power fails, log into our website for further information about what to do next. Alternatively use your common sense and go and buy some batteries.
• Alternative entertainment is available. Victorians didn’t have Play Stations to keep them amused, did they? You could read a book, have a tinkle on the piano, play a game of Cluedo or, erm, just wait for the power to come back on again.
Biological attack
• If you spot a sprout on your dinner plate, do NOT touch it.
• Move quickly away from the immediate source of danger.
• Wait for emergency chefs to arrive and examine the scene.
• You may need to be decontaminated. This will involve gargling with gravy and covering yourself with a temporary serviette.
Chemical attack
• If your auntie has bought you an unwanted bottle of perfume or aftershave, always dispose of the contents carefully (preferably while she’s not watching).
• If your auntie is wearing an offensive perfume, construct a lean-to in the garage and quarantine her there for at least 48 hours.
Radiological attack
• If your nose starts to glow red*, don't panic. Go and stand outside in the fog where you can be used as an emergency air traffic homing beacon. *Other symptoms may include being laughed at, being called names and not being allowed to join in playing reindeer games.
Emergency planning exercises
These are held annually around the country to test our preparedness. Large groups of civilians find themselves compelled to assemble in local shopping centres. Here the crowds are addressed by civic officials who dispense good cheer and essential Christmas advice. On a pre-arranged signal the Mayor then presses a big red button. This illuminates flashing warning lights in the sky to warn shoppers against venturing too close during the festive period. See local press for details.
The UK has had to live with the threat of Christmas for many years, ever since evil terrorist St Augustine slipped the first Bible through English customs. The emergency services now have well established plans and procedures in place to deal with a wide range of festive events.
The police, fire and ambulance services are specially trained to deal with Christmas.
• The police deal with Christmas by switching from trying to catch criminals to raising revenue by breathalysing drivers instead.
• Ambulance workers deal with Christmas by holding a sweepstake to see which driver can mop up the most drunkards.
• The fire brigade deal with Christmas by dressing up in red costumes and climbing onto illuminated rooftops.
• Military assistance can be also called upon if necessary, just so long as all the servicemen aren't too busy serving in Iraq.
Previous successes in the fight against Christmas:
• You never see Noel Edmonds any more, do you?
• And we got rid of Warninks Advocaat...
• And the Innovations catalogue...
• And Meltis Berry Fruits...
• And religion.
New anti-Christmas legislation is to be introduced next year:
• From 2005, Christmas presents may only be wrapped in transparent cling film. We apologise that this may diminish your feelings of excitement and anticipation somewhat, but it's better than being blown sky-high by gift-wrapped explosives.
• Extra-large Advent calendars will be introduced with a slice of fresh fruit behind each window rather than a slab of fattening chocolate.
• The Royal Mail will be forced to introduce a new service called SuperSpecial Delivery where, for a fee of £10, they promise not to steal any of your Christmas cards and the contents therein.
• Christmas Day will be moved to February 29th. That'll show 'em.
Remember that nearly all of Christmas is preventable. You can get practical, easy to follow advice on preventing Christmas from your local mosque or synagogue.
The Government is working hard to make sure that the UK is as prepared as it can be for Christmas, and it is important that you are ready too. By being informed and prepared, you can significantly reduce the risk to life, property and waistline. We’d therefore like to take this opportunity to warn you that the country will soon be shutting down for at least two days, maybe four, maybe a week and a half, and that buying food and travelling by rail will be nigh impossible during this period.
general advice about what to do in an emergency
If you should suddenly find yourself in the middle of Christmas, your common sense and instincts will usually tell you what to do. Unfortunately hiding in the cupboard under the stairs until the whole event is over is not usually an acceptable option.
Whatever the case, it is important to:
• Make sure 999 has been called.
• Wait patiently for three wise men to arrive.
• Follow the advice of the emergency services.
• Get extremely drunk in a desperate attempt to blot out the nightmare festive situation.
If you are not involved in the incident, for example because you are of a different religion which doesn’t believe that it's possible for a supreme being to impregnate an innocent woman, then you may still be in danger. In such cases the advice is:
1) Go inside a safe building.
Unsafe buildings are clearly marked on the outside by glowing, flashing lights. Beware. The occupants are likely to have been brainwashed by commercial forces beyond their control and may try to force feed you with sherry. Keep away.
2) Stay inside until you are advised to do otherwise.
Signs that the Christmas period is finally over include lengthening daylight hours, blooming flowers, repeated holiday advertisements and being able to turn off your central heating. If in doubt, emerge and see.
3) Tune in to local radio or TV for more information.
When Christmas is first sighted on the horizon, usually in late October, radio and TV companies will interrupt their normal programming to bring you information about the incident and to dispense retail advice. All your favourite celebrities will appear, bedecked with sparkly tinsel, telling you what necessary preparations need to be made, what supplies to stock up on and who has the best 3 for 2 offers on bottled water and tinned food.
Remember: go in, stay in, tune in, block out.
In certain very unlikely situations, you may be asked to leave your home by the emergency services:
• Regret using quite so much brandy on the Christmas pudding.
• Unplug the flashing snowman on the roof.
• Leave as quickly and calmly as possible.
• No, put those presents down and leave now.
• If you are forced to travel long distances to unknown parts of the country in order to reach a place of safety, remind yourself that this is what Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus did 2000 years ago and that everything turned out alright in the end.
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2005 anniversary quiz: Here are 12 quotations linked to events celebrating an anniversary in 2005. How many can you identify?
As midnight approached I watched (on television) the 60 second countdown being projected onto the face of the Shell Building beside the Thames. I noted that the TV countdown appeared to be running one second behind the time on my wristwatch. Digital television was indeed running slow, as predicted. Big Ben proved to be inaudible both on the television and in real life, but the fireworks in the sky did start exploding at the precise second when the new year began. All those present on the balcony offered copious New Year greetings and raised a glass to 2005.
1904 The play Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up premieres at the Duke of York's Theatre in London on December 27. It is a great success. Even the critics applaud at the end when asked to clap if they believe in fairies. "an artfully artless, go-as-you-please play which has all the pretty inconsequence of an imaginative child’s improvisation, all the wild extravagance of a youngster’s dream…" (Illustrated London News)
