The Hubble Ultra Deep Field in 3D

The Known Universe

The Known Universe takes viewers from the Himalayas through our atmosphere and the inky black of space to the afterglow of the Big Bang. Every star, planet, and quasar seen in the film is possible because of the world's most complete four-dimensional map of the universe, the Digital Universe Atlas that is maintained and updated by astrophysicists at the American Museum of Natural History.

Please don't label me

Sarah found this interesting article in the times which offers a critique of the British Humanist Association's current poster campaign.

Interesting stuff whether you look at from a religious or a secular perspective:

...If you believe something important to be true, then you shouldn’t pretend it is an open question. This goes for secular humanists as much as for religious believers. If, for example, you are a convinced atheist, and you think that belief in God is false at an intellectual level and damaging through its distorting effects on morality, then of course you would want to share this conviction with your children. It would be unjust to keep it from them. Similarly, if you believe in God, and you believe that this faith is not just a lifestyle choice or a cultural imperative but an objective truth with profound implications for human existence, how could you not share this conviction with your children?...

...It’s a fantasy to imagine that children can be raised in a philosophically neutral environment without some dominant world-view. Theism – as much as atheism, materialism, or secular humanism (these terms are not synonomous) – provides a particular understanding of the meaning of the world and of human life, which will help structure a child’s understanding and values. But if you try to bring your children up in an environment which is indifferent to questions of ultimate meaning, then your purported neutrality will already have been lost. If, in effect, you say to your children, “I don’t care enough about these values or convictions to share them with you”, or “they are important to me but not important in themselves”, then you are presenting them with a very particular world-view...

English Civil War - Prince Rupert at Bristol

Durdham Downs

This relatively peaceful, primarily agricultural, history was broken by disturbances in the 17th and early 18th centuries. During this period the Downs provided the assembly point for the Royalist army that captured Bristol in 1643. Two years later a Parliamentarian army gathered on the plateau to recapture the city. Parliamentarian victory was at Clifton’s expense, which was set alight by the Royalists in their defeat.

‘And lest, during the storm [i.e. the storming of Bristol], the Prince [Rupert] (in case he see the town like to be lost), should endeavour to escape with his horse; to prevent the same, Commissary-General Ireton’s Colonel Butler’s and Colonel Fleetwood’s regiments of horse were appointed to be in a moving body upon Durdam Down; that place being the most open way, and most likely for the Prince to escape by: besides part of those horse did alarm that side of the line and great fort towards Durdam Down and Clifton during the storm, as likewise to secure the foot.’ (Joshua Sprigg,1647)

The Battles for Bristol

The king's nephew, Prince Rupert, will ever be remembered as one of the bravest of cavaliers, one of the most dashing leaders of men, but one of the most unreliable and unscrupulous of generals.

In March, 1643, Prince Rupert's army of 6,000 men occupied Horfield, Westbury-on-Trym, and Durdham Down. In July, 1643, Prince Rupert uniting with the victors of Roundway Down under his brother Prince Maurice, marched upon Bristol with a force of 20,000 men. Fiennes had but 2,300 soldiers, and his defences were weak and unfinished.

At three in the morning on Wednesday, July 26th, 1643, the Cornish Cavaliers led by the Marquis of Hertford, made a fierce attack upon Redcliffe, but were repulsed with heavy loss. At five other points the royalists attacked the lines, but nowhere with success.

Colston's Fort, or Jones's Fort, as it was then called, was boldly attacked by a handful of cavaliers armed with pikes, wrapped around with tow with which to make " wild-fire." They were badly repulsed, and sought the shelter of a stone wall hard by, while they waited for scaling ladders. Just then the dashing Prince Rupert rode up, and while he was trying to rally the men, his charger was shot in the eye by one of the defenders. With the courage that made him famous, the prince remained near the spot, urging on the assailants until another steed was brought him.

When all the other attacks seemed to have failed, Colonel Washington, with a force of three hundred dragoons attempted to break the line at a point near the present Blind Asylum. This was possibly intended as little more than a feint, but it proved successful.

It was here the line was weakest, for but a shallow ditch had been dug through the millstone-grit. Frightening with their " fire-pikes" the horses of the cavalrymen who defended the point, Washington's men levelled the low wall and dashed over it. It is said that just before the great attack upon the city was commenced, a private soldier pointed out to Colonel Fiennes the very place where Washington afterwards forced his way through. The governor, with his second-in-command, was riding around to make a final inspection of the whole of the works, and the trooper ventured to advise him to place a hundred men to specially guard the unfinished defence. "What doth the saucy knave prate about? " said the commander, who was either too haughty to take advice from a common soldier, or so anxious about the weakness of the position that he tried to conceal the danger.

Two years later when Prince Rupert held the city, this difficult part of the line was still incomplete.

Fiennes declared he would defend every inch of the ground from the outer line to the castle keep, and that if need came, he would make his flag his winding-sheet. His resolution was soon to be put to the test. The troop which made its way through Washington's Breach, occupied the little unfinished Essex Fort, which was close at hand. There the shrewd leader waited for reinforcements, which soon reached him. Then the cavaliers took possession of the Cathedral, and St. Mark's and St. Augustine's Churches, while some of them under Colonel Washington captured the Great House on St. Augustine's Back. But it is not likely they would have retained these positions had Colonel Fiennes shown the spirit of a soldier at that critical hour. He ordered the defenders to leave the outer barrier and shelter within the city walls.

The assailants within the lines, greatly increased in numbers, appeared before Froom Gate and threatened the inner defence. The harassed governor was urged by the mayor and many of the citizens to hold out no longer, but a body of brave women implored him to be true to his word and fight to the death.

These heroines of Bristol were led by Mistress Dorothy Hazard, a famous member of the Baptist community, and the wife of Matthew Hazard, the Puritan vicar of St. Ewen's since 1639. Many a local writer has enjoyed his laugh at this strong-minded lady of the olden times ; she was withal a true-hearted English-woman. Mistress Hazard was a witness at the governor's trial, and part of her evidence reads as follows :

" That when the news came that some of the enemies were entered within the line, this deponent, with divers other women, did with woolsacks and earth stop up Froom Gate, and when they had so done, the said women went to the gunners, and told them that if they would stand out and fight, they would stand by them, and told them they should not want for provision."

But Fiennes looked across the Froom, and seeing that the tide was out and the besiegers were ready to wade the stream, he surrendered the city.

It is said that less than a score of roundheads fell during the siege, while the royalists lost between 1,000 and 1,400 men in the attack, which a writer on the King's side declared to be " the hottest that ever was since the war began."

In the year 1643, when the talk was of " Bristol taking, Exeter shaking, Gloucester quaking," as the old rhyme has it, the hopes of the king's party ran high.

Exeter was indeed taken by Prince Maurice, and the king himself assailed Gloucester. Had that city fallen , the king' s fortunes might have been saved. The defenders were reduced to their last barrel of gunpowder.

After the disastrous Royalist defeat at Naseby in June, 1645, 0nly the West remained to the King. In July, Sir Thomas Fairfax and Oliver Cromwell snatched Somerset from him. After taking Bridgwater, Bath and Sherborne they set about the recapture of Bristol, but not without misgivings, for it was known that the plague raged terribly within the walls, and deaths were occurring at the rate of a hundred every week, and they almost feared to approach such a place.

Prince Rupert, assisted by an able engineer, Sir Bernard de Gomme, had greatly strengthened the 'defences thrown up by Nathanael Fiennes. The Windmill Fort had become the Great or Royal Fort, a pentagonal stronghold, more reliable than the castle itself. Jones's Fort was re-named Colston's Fort, after its commander, William Colston, a relative of the great philanthropist, Edward Colston.

In August, 1645, the victorious army of Sir Thomas Fairfax, Commander-in-chief of the Parliamentarian forces, with the Lieutenant-General of Horse, Oliver Cromwell, drew near to Bristol. Prince Rupert sought to check their advance by laying waste the districts around the city. Parts of Clifton and Bedminster, and the College of Westbury-on-Trym, which Rupert had himself occupied three years before, were destroyed. The villages of Keynsham, Brislington, Hanham and Stapleton were barely saved, by a dashing advance of the roundheads.

On August 21st, Fairfax marched by way of Chew Magna and Keynsham, and slept at Hanham. Later he moved to Stoke House (Duchess's House), Stapleton, and then to Montpelier, making his headquarters at a farm which once stood at the top of Cromwell Road. Cromwell stationed himself first at Wickham Bridge, and then upon Ashley Hill.

Then the parliamentary army disposed itself about Bristol, hemming it in on every point. So tightly was the cordon drawn, that " not a pailful of milk or a basket of eggs" could be carried into the beleaguered city.

Prince Rupert expected King Charles would come to his relief, and believed he could hold the city against all comers for at least four months. There was to be no help, however. Although Rupert knew it not, the royal cause in England was utterly ruined, and thereafter, there was to be no greater battle in its behalf than that which raged about the outworks of Bristol.

The army of Fairfax and Cromwell was weak in artillery, almost the only large cannons being those placed in Montpelier. The city, with its 5,000 men, was well-manned and better gunned. Cromwell's report on the siege stated that no less than 140 pieces were captured, when the city fell. Within the walls, however, the plague and disloyalty raged. Heavy rains fell almost incessantly from August 23rd until September 4th. During this time, six dashing sorties were made by Rupert's men. In one of the first of these was slain Sir Richard Crane, who had commanded King Charles's cavalry at Marston Moor, in 1644. While the blockade was proceeding, the fleet of the parliament, commanded by Admiral Moulton, sailed into the Bristol Channel and captured the fort at Portishead. A detachment of bluejackets came up the Avon to assist the besiegers.

The parliamentary generals now decided to abandon the slow process of blockade, and to attempt to capture the city by storm.

On September 4th, the weather having cleared, the great guns upon Montpelier were directed against the Prior's Hill Fort, and their missiles flew across the valley through which Cheltenham Road now runs. On the same day Sir Thomas Fairfax sent a messenger to Prince Rupert, calling upon him to yield up the city. The prince asked permission to send to King Charles about this, but Fairfax refused.

From the 6th until the gih of September, negotiations between the commanders went on. The time of parley expired at midnight on the latter date, and at two in the morning of the loth, great bonfires on Montpelier and Ashley Hill blazed out the signal for a grand assault. All through the dark hours before dawn proceeded the combat, deadly and unnatural, between the sons of the same nation.

The defences at Stokes Croft, Lawford's Gate, and the Old Market Gate of the castle were soon taken. On the Somerset side the onslaught proved fruitless, so sound was the defence of the ancient wall of Redcliffe and Temple The Royal Fort and Colston's Fort were too strong to permit of serious attack. Prior's Hill Fort was the key of the position, and just before dawn, the men who had taken Stokes Croft entered it, by making their way along the inside of the rampart, up the steep side of Kingsdown, where Hillgrove Street now runs. Then Rainsborough's men climbed the slope of Cotham, and occupied Prior's Hill Fort, putting-nearly every defender to the sword.

The critical point of the outer defence was won. Generals Fairfax and Cromwell dashed up Ninetree Hill with their men, and established themselves within the lines. The loss of Prior's Hill was soon known to the garrison at the castle, and the great guns of the keep were brought to bear upon the captured post. One shot passed within dangerous distance of the Commander-in-Chief, and the future Lord Protector.

The city was set on fire in three places, by the desperate defenders, and then the disheartened Prince Rupert sent an offer of surrender, which the opposing general accepted. The siege had not been a long one. From first to last, it had occupied but twenty days. But when the victors entered the city, they found it in pitiable plight. Bristol was "so unlike what it had been formerly, in its flourishing condition, that it looked now more like a prison than a city, and the people more like prisoners than citizens, being brought so low with taxations, so poor in habit and so dejected in countenance, the streets so noisome and the houses so nasty, as that they were unfit to receive friends or foemen till they were cleansed."

On Thursday, September nth, the day after the capture, Prince Rupert gaily attired in scarlet and silver, and accompanied by a brilliant following' of ladies, lords and gentlemen, marched out of Royal Fort on his way to Oxford. Sir Thomas Fairfax journeyed across Durdham Downs with his fallen foe, and accompanied him two miles on his way. The soldiers had retained their swords, but had surrendered their firearms ; but Fairfax chivalrously lent them a thousand muskets, for he knew how likely it was that the retreating force would be attacked by the country-people, to whom the name of "Prince Robber" was a hateful one.

King Charles was so much grieved at his nephew's failure that he dismissed him from his service, although he afterwards forgave him.

Three days after the fall of Bristol, the Marquis of Montrose, the king's gallant champion in Scotland was crushed at Philiphaugh, and in the following May the unfortunate monarch was a prisoner in the hands of his enemies.

On September 17, Parliament ordered a national thanksgiving for the capture of Bristol, so decisive was the victory.

A BRIEF HISTORY FOR YOUNG CITIZENS. BY W. L. DOWDING, Fellow of the Royal Historical Society. 

Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2

Things Not Seen

Spotify on your phone?

Perhaps one for Howard this, but if you haven't already joined the Spotify revolution then I highly recommend it. No longer is it necessary to have endless gigabytes of memory to store favourite songs & albums. All you need is an internet connection.

People like having access while they are on the go so now Google Android has developed something where you can listen to saved spotify playlists on your phone, while on the move:

Take a look:

Introducing the BOP webpage

Not a 1950's dance move but a small time organisation. It is pretty basic but I thought it necessary to have something in place. Check it out and I would love to hear what you think - suggestions - input?

http://www.burmaorphanageproject.org.uk/

Tron - Legacy

Yeah far too many! They do look good though. This may be one to watch out for too. It is a sequel to the 1982 film Tron. Just to remind you, it may be worth comparing the Laser bike scene to the original. Also, apparently Daft Punk agreed to do the sound track.

Avatar

Woah. Lots of trailers this month. This one is for Avatar which is the first film from James Cameron since 'Titanic' in 1997.

District 9

Trailer - Surrogates

Mind Control Made Easy

Or, How to Become a Cult Leader:

Harry Potter and the Half blood Prince

As a self-confessed fan of Harry Potter, I have managed to restrain myself this year and avoided the hysteria surrounding the release of the latest film. That being the case probably because I all too eagerly got far too hysterical about following Andy Murray during the recent Wimbledon grand slam; but as one British home-grown “near” champion consumed my thoughts, now another, if not of a slightly different calibre, rapidly approaches. The main distinction and one I need to remind myself of, is one hero is of course complete fiction, and the other, real flesh and blood. But controversy may ensue when contemplating whether it was actually complete fiction that Murray could of ever of won Wimbledon in the first place..!

This will be the sixth film in the popular Harry Potter film series and directed by David Yates, the director of the fifth film, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Producers: David Heyman and David Barron are accompanied by the return of Steve Kloves, screenwriter of the first four films (but not the fifth). Thank you, Wikipedia.

I really would like to go see this HP at the IMAX 3D in Manchester if anyone fancies it? Due to the Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen 4-week commitment, the film will instead be released in IMAX 3D on 29 July 2009 – one for diaries? So far, the film has received very positive reviews from critics and I am interested to know what you think.

Star Trek

If you haven't seen the new Star Trek film then I highly recommend it! Even my housemate who has never been 'Trekkie', really enjoyed it!

Kelli Rudick live @ Joe's Pub, NYC - "If Only Either Could Solve Everything"

I thought it was pretty amazing so I thought I would share it on here..

Burma VJ

One for Lawrence and Dad methinks:

Anders Østergaardʼs award-winning documentary shows a rare inside look into the 2007 uprising in Myanmar through the cameras of the independent journalist group, Democratic Voice of Burma. While 100,000 people (including 1,000s of Buddhist monks) took to the streets to protest the countryʼs repressive regime that has held them hostage for over 40 years, foreign news crews were banned to enter and the Internet was shut down. The Democratic Voice of Burma, a collective of 30 anonymous and underground video journalists (VJs) recorded these historic and dramatic events on handycams and smuggled the footage out of the country, where it was broadcast worldwide via satellite. Risking torture and life imprisonment, the VJs vividly document the brutal clashes with the military and undercover police – even after they themselves become targets of the authorities.

View the Trailer Here.

Slap Guitar - Eppard Style

Since I've been studying Music at College I get the feeling sometimes that people associate me with classical guitar. As much as classical guitar is nice.. here is one of the styles I have adopted from Joey Eppard.

One more reason to work for google

Worth a watch from start to finish. I don't know what kind of corporate annual result bashes that Google is used to but this is cracking first class entertainment...

A Composition

http://www.myspace.com/howardbettany

Howard is far too modest to want to share this guitar composition he has put together, but it a beautiful piece and I really enjoyed it. Even tried to keep a beat with my newly purchased, second hand bongos; in the distant hope that one day, when Howard is a guitar hero, that he will let me be in his band...Needless to say I've got a long way to go. Good work Howard!

The Bettany Blog's 100th post is...

...about Burma again. However interest in the country doesn't stop at Shwekey, or a visit, an orphanage project or even a dissertation! Genuine concern for the people living there is a blessing and even today as news reaches us, Churches are being closed down by the Government. An email from a trusted friend, guide and translator reports that The Dai Church in Yangon has been closed by local officials. A church, that Dad and me visited during our trip in Feb/March(see picture).

I found this commentary by Neil Campbell, the EU Advocacy Manager of the International Crisis Group interesting in relation to the best ways to help Burma today. It is helpful in re-contextualising current international policy on Burma.

"Missing the Boat on Myanmar",
Neil Campbell in European Voice
By Neil Campbell
24 April 2009
European Voice

The EU should abandon a policy maintained by those with an eye on noble points rather than on new opportunities to promote change.

At next week's meeting of EU foreign minsters in Luxembourg, the EU will extend, for another year, policies on Myanmar that are widely recognised as ineffective.

There is no doubt that General Than Shwe and his repressive regime are the main culprits for the misery of the population. But in dealing with the country, the international community has to do more than simply rubber-stamp restrictive aid policies that are not showing results, neither promoting political change nor alleviating the impoverishment of the people.

The aftermath of Cyclone Nargis, which struck Myanmar last May, demonstrated that another option is available. The government - though initially an obstacle to relief efforts - eventually showed itself willing to address specific obstacles to aid delivery. Structures were put in place (mainly with ASEAN nations) to facilitate effective and transparent assistance.

This has not translated into improved behaviour by the regime in general, of course, but in the limited sphere of humanitarian operations, it shows that it is possible to effectively work alongside the government. The EU must recognise this precedent as an opportunity.

Driving with the rear-view mirror
While Europe has shown some flexibility in its approach - by allowing the possibility of humanitarian assistance since 2004, while making good use of targeted sanctions for naming and shaming the junta - its policy remains in the hands of those who would rather make a noble point than help improve socio-economic conditions on the ground.

EU policy is currently driven through rear-view mirrors, looking back to 1990. Yes, there have been good initiatives by the European Commission on the security of livelihoods and food supplies, education and health (such as the Three Diseases Fund to counter TB, Malaria and HIV/AIDS). But these remain negligible in scale. The indicative budget for Commission assistance to Myanmar for the period 2007-2013 was only €65 million. There is additional assistance in others projects and member-state initiatives, but assistance is barely making a dent on the extreme poverty.

An already disastrous economic crisis is being aggravated by the effects of the global economic crisis filter downwards. Poverty levels are extreme and the response inadequate: 90% of the population lives on less than $0.65 cents a day (€0.49). In neighbouring Laos the amount of external assistance per capita is around $30 (€23) a year; in Cambodia it is $50 (€38). The equivalent for Myanmar is $2.70 (€2.05) a year - a figure roughly comparable to what each European cow is worth per day in subsidies.

This is not just about getting assistance to those that need it. The EU has yet to take full advantage of the potential for de-politicising humanitarian and development assistance to the country. This presents the best opportunity to promote change in Myanmar.

The "Common Position" of the EU allows room for manoeuvre on assistance, but without a clear definition of how far that assistance can go, the Commission will be hobbled by a lurking political cloud over anything that could be deemed as "engagement".

Driving with a view of the long road ahead
Political restrictions on humanitarian and development aid should stop. The international financial institutions should be allowed to re-engage, focusing on policy dialogue, technical assistance and capacity building, since direct budgetary assistance and major project financing is not yet appropriate. Aid should be used in new ways: aiming at substantially raising income and educational levels, fostering civil society, improving economic policy and governance, promoting equality of ethnic minorities, and improving disaster preparation. The result will eventually be a loosening of the military's stranglehold on the economy, and could even result in improved governance and empowerment of non-state actors - exactly what the sanctions regime has been failing to achieve.

This may sound too good to be true, but once aid programmes gather momentum through interaction with local and international organisations on the ground, they also open the door for further efforts in wider humanitarian and development assistance. It is not a process that happens overnight, but it is the only option that will provide incremental improvements - significantly more than 20 years of failed isolation.

The aftermath of Cyclone Nargis revealed an opportunity to the international donor community. It would be a shame to squander it.

A 'hypercosmic God'

...The John Templeton Foundation announced the winner of the annual Templeton Prize of a colossal £1 million ($1.4 million), the largest annual prize in the world.

This year it goes to French physicist and philosopher of science Bernard d'Espagnat for his "studies into the concept of reality". D'Espagnat, 87, is a professor emeritus of theoretical physics at the University of Paris-Sud, and is known for his work on quantum mechanics. The award will be presented to him by the Duke of Edinburgh at Buckingham Palace on 5 May...

...

Unlike classical physics, d'Espagnat explained, quantum mechanics cannot describe the world as it really is, it can merely make predictions for the outcomes of our observations. If we want to believe, as Einstein did, that there is a reality independent of our observations, then this reality can either be knowable, unknowable or veiled. D'Espagnat subscribes to the third view. Through science, he says, we can glimpse some basic structures of the reality beneath the veil, but much of it remains an infinite, eternal mystery.

Looking back at d'Espagnat's work, I couldn't help but wonder what the Templeton Foundation – an organisation dedicated to reconciling science and religion – saw in it that they thought was worth a £1 million. Then, scanning the press release, I found it:

"There must exist, beyond mere appearances … a 'veiled reality' that science does not describe but only glimpses uncertainly. In turn, contrary to those who claim that matter is the only reality, the possibility that other means, including spirituality, may also provide a window on ultimate reality cannot be ruled out, even by cogent scientific arguments."...

More from New Scientist.

Encourage bees to make our economy buzz again

Found Boris Johnson on bee's and the economy quite amusing...

Long before the alarm clock goes, the buzzing begins, and I am afraid my irritation sometimes gets the better of me. As soon as the sunlight hits the window panes, the dunderheaded insects conceive their lust to be outdoors, sticking their noses into the sexual organs of the flowers, and bonk bonk bonk they start to bash their furry bonces against the glass and buzz buzz buzz they go in frustration until I can take it no more.

I bound naked from the bed, brandishing the 580-page biography (unread) of Marcus Aurelius; and just as I am about to give the brutes a drubbing they will not forget, I pause, and hold my hand, as an Inuit holds his club poised above the head of a baby seal when a Greenpeace activist shouts to him across the floes. I hear the voice of conscience, and Marcus Aurelius trembles in my grip.

Whoa there, says the voice of conscience. You cannot flatten the most popular insect in world history. You can't just squash a creature that was once beloved of Apollo and which mankind has associated, since the beginning, with poetry and rhetoric and the gift of speech itself. You shouldn't murder a poor defenceless critter to which we have traditionally ascribed every human virtue from patriotism to thriftiness; and above all, says the voice of conscience, you cannot slaughter a member of a species now thought to be as threatened as the panda. No, friend, says conscience, savouring a rare moment of victory as I lower Marcus Aurelius, you cannot kill a bee.

"Sorry, guv," say the pest control people when I mention the underfloor infestation. "We don't touch bees. They're protected." When I consult the Rentokil website, I find all sorts of advice about how to massacre wasps and ants, but not bees. If you are lucky enough to have bees in your house, says Rentokil, you must treat them as honoured guests. If you value the future of the planet, you will not touch a bristle of their buzzing little backs.

As all bee experts will testify, there are good grounds for such restraint. The global bee population has recently entered a catastrophic decline, in a syndrome despairingly but vaguely known as "Colony Collapse Disorder". Thriving bee farms are being turned overnight into ghost towns as workers mysteriously desert their queens; beeswax candles are in short supply; the stocks of honey are running low; and with too few bees to pollinate the plants that make up the very basis of our agriculture, everyone is quoting Albert Einstein to the effect that if the bees go, the human race will perish four years later.

In the great bee crisis, it is impossible not to see the metaphor. Since Homer compared the Greek troops to columns of bees issuing from a hollow rock, bees have stood for mankind's organisational ability. As Shakespeare puts it, they are creatures that by a rule in nature teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom. Hive of industry; busy as a bee – for centuries these have been the clichés of human economic success.

Well, look at the poor bees now, and look at the world economy. No one knows exactly what has gone wrong with the bees. Some blame the Varroa mite; some blame pesticides; some say they have been put off by all the genetically-modified crops; some say the bees are getting fed up of being carted around to fertilise the Californian fruit and nuts, and have gone on a kind of strike; and some say that their navigational technology is being jammed by humanity's increasing use of mobile phones.

No one can say why they go off to die on their own, and no one knows exactly where they go – except me, that is. I can tell you that a small but noisy minority has junked the hive and come to live in our house, at least until first light, when they like to rise early and make love to the spring flowers. I have one on my desk in front of me. I am afraid that he has knocked his little bee brains out trying to fly through the window, but you can tell by the fat yellow pollen sacs on his legs that his last day was highly enjoyable. He has been out there pollinating and fertilising in a thoroughly promiscuous way, and later this year, I expect, there will be some apple or cherry that ripens entirely thanks to his efforts.

And that is the point, my friends. The economic recovery is like the bee population, in that you never know exactly where it will turn up. Samson saw the bees swarm in the belly of the lion. Virgil described how you could restore a bee colony by beating a bullock to death and sticking it in a brick kiln. Unlikely though these may sound as places for bee generation, they are nothing like as inhospitable to nature as our house. If I were trying to breed bees myself, they would certainly go the way of our belly-up goldfish, or our hamsters, who all had shamelessly incestuous relationships before expiring of hamster Aids. Here is the most polluted, bee-hostile urban environment you could imagine, the air thick with hairspray and nit cream and the microwaves of umpteen mobiles and other electronic devices – and yet I am proud to say that it is also a refuge for some of the most vulnerable and vital animals in the ecosystem.

I don't want to make too much of this. I will not claim that I have seen a bee revival, any more than I will claim to have seen the bottom of the market. But when I read the wrist-slitters and the gloomadon-poppers in the Financial Times, and their snooty refusal to see any hope in the recent rallies in stocks or in house prices, then I cannot help thinking of the people who are buying houses, and opening shops, with a determination and confidence that will eventually lead us out of recession; and I think of the amazing animal optimism that urges the bees to try living in my bedroom, and I put Marcus Aurelius back on the shelf where he belongs.

And now for something completely different

The Burma Orphanage Project!

Introducing the aptly named, ‘Burma Orphanage Project’!

To avoid confusion, it is a project! A project I want to undertake that will help a Burmese orphanage. One in particular, as there are a countless orphanages littering Burma and it would indeed be a monumental task to assist all! However I am not adversely hostile to the idea of expanding operations in the future, if it received positive results. I believe that any help or assistance you can give to someone who is disadvantaged is better than nothing!

I could have perhaps thought of something a little bit more sparky. Something that would catch the eye but I am not in the marketing business. The truth is that the Burmese Government, would loath to be affiliated with an orphanage, or even the word ‘orphanage!’ Many are forced to rename themselves or face closure. You will find many a ‘Child Development Centre’ or the like in Burma.

Basically - I want to get involved with helping the ‘Peniel Children Home' which is situated in Kalaymyo in northern Burma. The director, Zohmingthanga has made his need clear and when Dad and I visited we were able to give a small gift which fed the children for one month. The need for a new building and for regular sponsor for basic provisions like food is still essential.

I intend to run the Potter’s alf in July with Tom to raise money for the structure but I need help with the regular sponsor. If we could pool resources then we could make a positive impact. I know this is asking a lot in this time of economic uncertainty! But resources don’t necessarily need to be financial! We are blessed to have such a diverse family with many different skills and talents. If anyone has any ideas about how I can make this project effective and have a deep impact then please don’t hesitate.

If you do decide to provide a regular monthly sponsorship then remember it is investing in some one’s future! Like we have committed to saving in Tom’s Natwest saver scheme, we in effect are investing in our own future and there is nothing wrong with that, but £10 a month in Burma, cumulatively, could make a massive difference to someone else’s future!

This is all very much still on the drawing board. Thoughts and ideas welcome.

Here are some pictures of conditions...



Just under 30 children all live in this upstairs



This is the roof that lets in the water during the raining season, and causing floods downstairs.



The pretty basic toilets they all share!



The building from the outside!



And some of the children as we handed out fruit when we left!

I wish you could see the video of them singing to us when we first arrived. Of all the places we visited it was the one that moved me most. I don't believe that Dad's involvement through Shwekey was by chance. I think us Bettanys can help here!

The Real Rain Man

D.O. Bettany (1924-1944) R.I.P.

Nitin Sawhney - Mausam

Nitin Sawhney - Mausam (Weather)

To live life in one colour For your entire life This, your heart's desire, isn't right
To live life in one colour For your entire life This, your heart's desire, isn't right

To live life in one colour For your entire life This, your heart's desire, isn't right
Sadness and happiness are two paths To walk on one path, isn't right

Season changes, happiness comes, sadness goes
Season changes, happiness comes, sadness goes

To live life in one colour For your entire life This, your heart's desire, isn't right
To live life in one colour For your entire life This, your heart's desire, isn't right

Sadness and happiness are two paths To walk on one path, isn't right
Sadness and happiness are two paths To walk on one path, isn't right

Season changes, happiness comes, sadness goes
Season changes, happiness comes, sadness goes

Happiness comes, Sadness goes Season changes
Happiness comes, Sadness goes Season changes

Banksy in Bristol Slideshow

Welcome Home Dad

Hi Dad, it's great to have you back! I hope you had a wonderful time!

I'll look forward to seeing some of those (many - I'm sure) photos from Burma up here on the Bettany Blog!

Two items of interest on a sunny March morning:

1. From the BBC: Community penalties 'laughed at'.

The credibility of community sentences is at stake because offenders who breach the orders are not dealt with firmly enough, a study says.

Experts from King's College London examined Community Orders and Suspended Sentence Orders, which were introduced in England and Wales four years ago.

They require offenders to do unpaid work or undergo rehabilitation.

But a probation officer interviewed for the study said those under the orders left court "laughing their heads off".

2. And from the World Famous inflight magazine of VLM Airlines, Velocity Magazine. A rare piece of original writing from yours truly.

WHEN, IN 2003, THE NOBEL PRIZE winning economist Myron Scholes told academic journal Quantitative Finance that “the world is our laboratory”, he was comparing the work of scientists with that of financial academics and practitioners. Like the physical world, the financial world consists of a bewilderingly complex system of interrelated parts and processes that lends itself to the tools and analysis of mathematics and science. It should come as no surprise, then, that the quantitative professionals who now dominate the financial markets with their models and products, and who have lately come under so much criticism, should associate themselves with the scientific method.

On 29 March 1900, a French student, Louis Bachelier, successfully defended his doctoral thesis, Théorie de la Spéculation, at the Sorbonne. Bachelier’s achievement was to offer a mathematical description of randomness and to introduce many of the concepts in the field that has come to be known as stochastic analysis. Crucially he applied his insights to the problem of pricing financial options and, in doing so, is considered by many as a pioneer in the early study of mathematical – or quantitative – finance...

Exchange of Letters

This is my favourite poem by Wendy Cope, who was in the news this week after saying that the post of Poet Laureate should be abolished:

Taken from "Serious Concerns", Faber

Exchange of Letters

Dear Serious Novel,

I am a terse assured lyric with impeccable rhythmic flow, some apt and original metaphors, and a music that is all my own. Some people say I am beautiful.

My vital statistics are eighteen lines, divided into three-line stanzas, with an average of four words per line.

My first husband was a cheap romance; the second was Wisden's Cricketers' Almanac. Most of the men I meet nowadays are autobiographies, but a substantial minority are books about photography or trains.

I have always hoped for a relationship with an upmarket work of fiction. Please write and tell me more about yourself.

Yours intensely,

Song of the First Snowdrop

Dear Song of the First Snowdrop,

Many thanks for your letter. You sound like just the kind of poem I am hoping to find. I've always preferred short, lyrical women to the kind who go on for page after page.

I am an important 150,000 word comment on the dreams and dilemmas of twentieth-century Man. It took six years to attain my present weight and stature but all the twenty-seven publishers I have so far approached have failed to understand me. I have my share of sex and violence and a very good joke in chapter nine, but to no avail. I am sustained by the belief that I am ahead of my time.

Let's meet as soon as possible. I am longing for you to read me from cover to cover and get to know my every word.

Yours impatiently,

Death of the Zeitgeist

Final Fantasy Versus XIII

Man-Machine

Well worth a watch from this bbc iplayer link.

As a child, James May dreamed of a world populated by humanoid robots. Robots which would tidy his room and do the washing up. In the second programme of his Big Ideas series, he sets off to discover how close his vision of a robot-world is to becoming a reality and in doing so enters an intriguing, mysterious and often rather strange world.

In Japan, James meets the closest thing to Robocop. It’s a woman who can double her strength thanks to an extraordinary electro-mechanical jumpsuit, but what will this bizarre mix of human intelligence and machine brawn be used for?

He also has a close encounter of the weird kind with the most disturbing robot he has ever seen – a robot designed to look and behave exactly like its creator.

Continuing his travels James heads to the US, to explore the possibilities of bionic implants and talks to the doctor who is making them a reality, and in doing so has created a real 2 million dollar bionic woman.

And finally, in the unlikeliest of laboratories he encounters the world’s most advanced walking robot: Asimo – it can tackle stairs and has even mastered running, however when faced with a closed door, the robot proves he isn’t all that smart. Cue Asimo’s twin brother, who has learnt to recognise everyday objects. But will he amaze James when asked to identify a Mini car? And is this all enough to restore James’s vision of a robot filled future world?

I thought the bionic eye and the learning robot was unbelievable.

George Carlin - Paradox

GEORGE CARLIN (He recently died)

Isn't it amazing that George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's – could write something so very eloquent...and so very appropriate.

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but! not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete...

Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
If you don't forward this ....Who cares? George Carlin

Quicklink - 1911 Census

According to the 1911 Census, there were 478 Bettanys in the UK at that point:

http://www.1911census.co.uk

I'm quite pleased to note that not only am I the only Jacob B in the world right now, but quite possibly the only one there ever was!

Dance from Bande à part

I particularly like the quote: "Empires Crumble, my friend, republics founder and fools survive!"

The creative side of consumerism

http://www.soundtree.co.uk/

I discovered this media company called Sound tree when I was trying to find a song from the new Ford Ka advert. They are responsible for some of the cooler adverts out there. Some are really quite impressive. The more creative side of consumerism! Take a look!
Remember this...?



and this?




maybe this?









Impressive!

A Pernicious Lodestone in 'Kevin'

1968 was drawing to a close and Kevin was fast approaching his eighteenth birthday. In July he had left his leafy boarding school in Surrey and his resettlement in Stoke-on-Trent was anything but covered in glory. He had escaped the dreary prospect of becoming articled to a chartered accountant and was ending the year kicking his heels as a handyman in a furniture shop.

Education had given Kevin no fixed compass bearing to guide his life into a worthwhile career. Egotistical pragmatism was the lodestone that influenced his next decision; on his eighteenth birthday he crossed the threshold of the Army Recruiting Office in Hanley. His father, whose own military career was drawing to a close, was very pleased to accompany him.

An oath was sworn to serve Queen and Country for nine years and the contract sealed for him to enlist with the Royal Army Medical Corps to train as a physiotherapist. Such a career profession was a complete mystery to Kevin but it sounded very grand. In reality he felt momentum was more important than direction and, although he had never read Voltaire’s “Candide,” he assumed he too lived in "the best of all possible worlds."

Four days later, armed with little more than his optimism, Kevin retreated from life in Stoke and advanced to Keogh Barracks, the RAMC training depot at Ash Vale, near Aldershot. Platoon 6901 was the first intake of recruits in 1969 and new recruit 24109201 Private Bettany and fifteen other individuals blended into a unit of square bashers, boot polishers and barrack room lawyers.

With his boarding school background, Kevin was easily accommodated to barrack room etiquette. He was well aware that peer group approval was a fickle commodity but he assumed that he had the personal equipment and attributes to warrant a more generous portion of popularity. A regular place in the depot rugby team created a helpful impression.

Basic training did throw up some interesting irregularities -a wrestling match with a very senior officer looking for a physical workout; a visit from Captain Bettany RAPC; friendship with Private Patel, an Asian refugee from General Idi Amin’s Uganda; an Oscar winning performance as a volunteer war casualty with a fake compound fracture of the femur; and finding a four leaf clover whilst on picket duty!

When Kevin paraded for the passing out ceremony he was still recovering from a bad hangover. He won no awards for his performance as a recruit but he looked forward to his first posting to the Royal Herbert Hospital in Woolwich. It was less than a mile from where he was born at the Military Maternity Hospital in 1951.

Kevin was not a young man who readily exposed himself to wise counsellors. Since his hasty retreat from Stoke it had never occurred to him that he should explore the meaning of the word `physiotherapist’. He was still relying on a flawed blend of optimism and charm to see him through. Later that year he would have to face the academic rigors waiting for him at the Army School of Physiotherapy.

He longed for the day he could don his blue track suit and Fred Perry T shirt (bought on a loan) and enjoy the kudos of being a `physio’ trainee. Meanwhile he played rugby for 12 Company RAMC, found a quiet place to read his novels, larked around and smoked with other lads waiting for training. He secretly admired pretty army nurses and liked to be seen with a soldier who drove a white Mercedes that had seen better days.

Six months after starting the Physio Freshers course Kevin was a humiliated and embarrassed man. One main reason for his failure to proceed beyond the fresher stage of his physiotherapy course was his shocking complacency in the face of anatomy, physiology, bio-chemistry and other academic subjects. His pretence and fanciful optimism was finally unmasked at the fresher’s exams.

The second main reason concerned the lifestyle choices he made which were peer-centred rather than career-centred. Kevin’s lodestone was influenced by the distraction of several complicated relationships. However sweet the temptations, the bitter consequences never could be undone or redeemed. Only by the grace of God did one of those relationships flourish.

Kevin options were now even more limited. Had a wise mentor been available to offer him sound advice he might have been persuaded to opt for a more realistic course of action; to train as an Army State Registered Nurse. His egocentric lodestone swung him away from such a pragmatic programme.

Instead, Kevin joined two other soldiers and spent twenty weeks at the Army Medical College training as an Army Medical Laboratory Technician Class Three. It conferred the rank of Lance Corporal and it was a modicum of success in an otherwise indifferent Army career.

After the course Kevin remained in Milbank at the Queen Alexandra Hospital, 18 Company RAMC. Despite some good practical progress in haematology, serology, bacteriology, and particularly histology, his main weakness remained bio-chemistry. In this respect he lived in fear of what tests he might be asked to do as the ‘on call’ lab technician.

Dr Samuel Johnson said that “He who is tired of London is tired of life.” In the 1970’s London was still the swinging capital of world culture. The NAAFI culture of 18 Company RAMC radiated no further than The Swan, The Spread Eagle and the Pimlico Tram. Samuel would not have been impressed.

Kevin could not abide the loneliness of study. He craved company more than he craved anything else. Arrivals of new trainee Queen Alexandra nurses was always a cause of great excitement at the hospital. After more complicated relationships he did not deserve to marry the gracious and sweet Angela. He was posted back to the Royal Herbert Hospital to enjoy their married life together in Catford.

Kevin continued playing rugby for both Corp and Company but, during a rugby tour of military hospitals in Germany, he went into a tackle too hard, sustained a head injury, and his rugby career met a premature end.

Kevin’s introduction to the drug culture began with a joint shared in the little park on John Islip Street just outside the hospital grounds. What followed was an obsession with the drug culture, mounting debt and a double life that blighted the next five years of his life.

Kevin was medically discharged from the Army in 1973. It would be 1976, whilst he was at a teacher training college, that the pernicious lodestone was supernaturally purged of its awful power. Only just in time to save his marriage and his family! Only just in time to save his soul!

Burning World

Saw this in the economist...and quite liked it. Especially as the hand over takes place this year.

Laminin

Thought this was pretty impressive. Maybe it's just coincidence. Maybe not.