About Current Offence

The middle child of political, cultural and scientific commentary. Openly filled with contempt for our status as armchair dictators. New posts every Wednesday.

Lamb Chops, Diversity and National(ism) Narratives: Australia Day Advertising

National myths have an enormous effect on us. They posed a significant danger in Thailand following the military coup in 2014, they’re why Greece has such a complicated relationship with Europe, and they’re the reason Americans just will not let go of their goddamn guns. They’ve even given rise to the phenomenon of “national branding”, the deeply suspect offspring resulting from an unholy union between advertising and nationalism.


Nothing bad has ever come from the combination of those two things! [x]

There isn’t a single nation on earth that has an uncomplicated relationship with its past, however when it comes to murky, schizophrenic and incredibly divisive national narratives, Australia really takes the pavlova. Federated 116 years ago, on the 1st of January 1901, Australia prides itself on being something of an underdog, using words like “larrikin” and “mateship” and “fair shake of the sauce bottle” to drive home its scrappy, loveable persona.

[Former Prime Minister Kevin Rudd seen here deploying the vernacular to promote the visage of being #relatable.]

There’s heavy emphasis in Australian history on national mythologies that enshrine the hard yakka of colonial settlers and the sacrifices of the ANZAC soldiers in the First and Second World Wars. Much like the United States, Australia draws on the idea of being a land of opportunity – the “lucky country” – where anyone willing to put in a hard day’s work can build a life for themselves. Of course, the phrase “the lucky country” was originally coined to criticise the fact that Australia had lucked into its undeserved success on the back of other people’s innovation amidst a xenophobic and racist set of both foreign and domestic policy.

Yes, beneath the veneer of kangaroos, perfect weather and endless beaches simmers a toxic casserole of violence against both the Indigenous peoples of Australia and its newcomers, with nutritious ingredients such as massacre, kidnapping and the White Australia Policy. It’s a dish the whole country’s been chowing down on for some time, and although gains have certainly been made towards recognition and repentance, when you consider things like the Don Dale Detention scandal of 2016 or the horror that is Australia’s offshore “processing” for refugees, the whole thing still leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth. And an especially bitter note for many is Australia Day, which is celebrated on January 26th, the date that the ‘First Fleet’ of British invaders landed in Botany Bay – a fact that has led to critics referring to it as Invasion Day.  


It’s all especially nauseating considering who’s been re-elected to government recently.

Into this culinary clusterfuck wades a now firmly established Australian tradition – the annual Meat & Livestock Australia (MLA) Australia Day lamb advertisement. While the campaign is obviously focused on the commercial practice of selling meat (a moral quandary I’m not going to tackle in this article) rather than nation building, it’s a fascinating case study for which particular mythologies the organisation feels can be exploited for the most profit. Throughout the 12 years of its run, the MLA Australia Day ad campaign has made a point of drawing on a mixture of pop culture, current events and national imagery to sell lamb as the “national meat” of Australia. The first ad was aired in 2005, and espouses some interesting views on the qualifications required to be Australian:

Ah yes, there’s nothing like an angry white man denouncing un-Australianism™ in a rant laced with overt xenophobia and latent homophobia to really encapsulate the spirit of nationalism. The campaign really milked that particular niche for all it was worth, with this stunning specimen featuring three years later, in 2008:

In case you missed it, one of the real gems of a line in there referred to those who might protest the introduction of an ‘Australia Week’ by saying, “The placard-waving, police-bashing weed-worshippers may protest about it, but it’s nothing a few blasts from a water cannon can’t fix. They could do with a wash. And if they’re still too un-Australian to chomp a few chops with the rest of us, send them to Nauru. The refugee processing centre has plenty of palm trees they can hug.”


Controversy has plagued the campaign in this decade as well. Last year’s ad drew the ire of vegans and Indigenous groups alike:

Notably, this was the first ad to feature someone neither white nor a dude at the front and centre of the campaign (with original spokesman Sam Kekovich relegated to a supporting role as of 2015), and it’s hard not to be charmed by anything featuring confirmed BAMF Lee Lin Chin. However the combination of the aesthetics of military incursions combined with Australia Day gets harder to swallow the more you think about it.

But things took a turn this year. Marketing director Andrew Howie apparently received the memo on racism not really cutting the mustard any more last year, as the launch of the MLA’s glorious Spring Lamb campaign demonstrated:

While it isn’t a part of the Australia Day series, it certainly represents a sharp turn away from the aggressive rhetoric those ads had established. Instead of the rigorous promotion of a single, rigid set of values as being truly “Australian” – and of those values as being worth violently defending – it puts forward lamb as the food that brings everyone together (a nod to religious and cultural dietary restrictions that prevent the consumption of pork or beef) as something that can unite a diverse Australia. Note the final beat, in which the line “Who was here first?” is met with the response “That’d be us!” by the Aboriginal participants of this multicultural barbecue. It leads us into the latest Australia Day ad, a dramatic departure from its predecessors for several reasons but most notably the fact that not a single person says the words “Australia Day”. In 2017, a year when the City of Fremantle has already made the decision not to celebrate Australia Day on the 26th, this is important.

So, what kind of ad is this? It’s certainly not without its flaws. And it’s had its detractors, who make excellent points about the exploitation of Indigenous suffering and glossing over the small matter of genocide in order to sell meat. But I’d like to look at it for a moment through the lens of national mythology. Indeed, this is Australian mythology presented as just that – an imagined version of the country’s origin story that feeds into an idealised version of its society today.

Bearing in mind that it’s designed to appeal to as many people as possible (in order to increase lamb sales), it’s interesting how closely they’ve been listening to community feedback in order to present a story that would have broad resonance. It’s come a long way from the leaked draft of the script that caused so much consternation back in November. And while it’s full of the daft and heavy-handed stereotypes that often seem to typify Australian humour, the most interesting thing this ad does is position its Aboriginal characters as the neutral, relatable main characters of the story amidst a cast of caricatures. By centering their perspective within the narrative – fictionalised and glossy though it is – the ad frames the arrival of foreign peoples on Australian shores as a story about Indigenous Australians, in which they are empowered with the right to welcome newcomers to their beach, and in which those newcomers must confer and interact with the Aboriginals as equals. It’s a direct challenge to the national myth that says Europeans “settled” and “civilised” a wild, uninhabited territory when they landed in Australia. And drives home the point that non-Indigenous Australians are all, at one point or another, boat people.


It’s also not really a story about January 26th – the day is pointedly avoided in conversation (“What’s the occasion?” “Do we need one?”) and really only nodded to for a couple of seconds with the “First Fleet” line. Instead it’s a story spanning hundreds of years (admittedly only a fraction of the 40,000 years Indigenous Australians have lived on the continent), and builds the idea of the nation of Australia as a party that everyone’s invited to. It not only builds it, in fact – it sells it. And not even the most bitter 1930s-throwback tantrum from white dudes who are upset that they’re not the only ones on television anymore can change the fact that it does, in fact, sell.


To be honest, the ad itself is not particularly virtuous. But its value can be found in the way it reflects changing (and profitable) attitudes in Australia. The country’s struggle with its national identity and diversity is far from over, and it’s probably a very long road until full recognition and reparation is given to all the people who’ve suffered under Australian nationalism – just last week, another illustrative advertising campaign saw a billboard featuring two young girls wearing Australian flag hijabs taken down after threats were issued targeting both the billboard company and the girls. But the MLA ads are perhaps a good sign that slowly, glacially slowly, attitudes are changing.

So, Aussies, don’t buy lamb on Australia Day – or do, whatever floats your (immigrant-bearing) boat. The more important conversation is about the existence of the day itself. But amidst the soul-crushing year we’ve had these last twelve months, maybe take a little bit of joy from knowing that maybe one day soon we’ll see change in the right direction.



PS: In case you haven’t seen enough batshit crazy lamb ads to sate your appetite (and possibly turn you off eating lamb forever), here is the 2013 ad in which the entire marketing team completely lost its damn mind:


Brexit: From Dear God What Happened, to Dear God What Next

So. The unthinkable has happened. As we glumly watch the markets plummet, the hate speech blossom and the political leaders trip over themselves trying to flee the havoc, it’s difficult to resist the urge to collectively grab half of the British population and shake them while screaming that one line from Planet of the Apes:

Honestly, I’ve been trying to write this article for some time now, but every day there is some new dramatic revelation to deal with.

Shall we start from the beginning? Actually I ought to start this piece with a disclaimer – I’m not British, nor am I living in the UK. In fact I’m the only writer on this blog who isn’t, at the moment, but I believe my fellow authors are still attempting to rebuild their lives in the post-apocalyptic hellscape of #Brexit.

It’s been a week since the Brits took to the polls to vote on a question that has been contentious and divisive from pretty much the birth of the European Union: should the UK be part of the EU, or not? Back in February The Economist gave a pretty good overview of the history of Britain’s relationship with the EU, but in essence it boils down to a few major points.

The first is that the UK, although not a founding member of the EU, has played a crucial role in its development since even before it joined in 1973, with Winston Churchill named as one of the ‘Founding Fathers’ of the EU. Perhaps the most quintessential example of Britain’s early relations with the Union is Margaret Thatcher, who spent the mid to late 1970s campaigning vigorously for the UK to be part of a closer European Union, only to turn around once in office as Prime Minister in the 1980s and decry the political and economic disadvantages the UK was suffering as a result of the EU. Her resistance to EU governance precipitated the end of her leadership, and her views on Europe became progressively more critical as the decades passed. Thatcher’s legacy in Britain, while hugely divisive, is undeniable – and many are citing it as a direct influence on the outcome of this referendum. The irony, of course, is that the working class – the demographic that hated Thatcher most passionately – has ended up championing the same side of the debate.

There’s rather a lot of irony in this whole situation, to be honest.

The second major point is that the UK has been perhaps the most reluctant major player in the EU for some time. Thatcher played a huge role in the development of the single market (primarily in securing Britain rebates in said market), but the UK opted out of two of the most crucial tenets of the Union: the Schengen Agreement, which we’ve discussed before, and the common currency or ‘Eurozone’. All Member States of the EU are obliged to be part of the common currency (eventually) and the free movement agreement, although Denmark also opted out of the currency and Ireland joined the UK in rejecting Schengen in the interests of maintaining their pre-existing free movement agreements. Basically the UK is the kid who’ll come to your birthday party, but he’ll sit in the corner and refuse to play musical chairs or wear a party hat, and then will insist on deciding how the cake should be cut.


“You better not be giving my piece to those immigrants!” [x]

In the wake of the financial crisis that shook the Eurozone and sent corresponding waves through the UK (who helped bail out Portugal and Ireland, but not – contrary to popular belief – Greece), an already shaky faith in the EU was further damaged by the ascension of the UK Independence Party, or UKIP, who are part of a larger pantheon of exceptionally awful hard-right political parties on the rise across Europe.

It was in this political climate that British Prime Minister David Cameron pressed the big red button that will end the world. Struggling with divisions within his own Conservative party, Cameron took a gamble that won him the election last year: he promised the Eurosceptics of the UK that there would be a referendum on British membership of the EU if he was re-elected Prime Minister.

He was giving a decision that would normally be left to Parliament, advised by experts and lobby groups and whoever else, to the population itself. The problem, of course, is that the European Union and particularly the UK’s membership of it are extremely complex topics that a large percentage of the population don’t understand. It’s the problem that has led to so much frustration and anger about the EU in the first place, and it’s also the problem that led to so many people voting Leave without understanding what they were voting for or what the consequences would be.

To be fair, anyone who tells you they know for sure what the consequences of the referendum will be at this stage is straight up lying. There are no certainties. This is uncharted land, and we of Europe are stumbling through it with a compass made of twigs, leaves and a depressing combination of cynicism and naivety.

Here’s what did happen, though, in the immediate aftermath. Cameron jumped ship faster than a rat leaving the Titanic, if that rat had somehow also steered the ship directly into the iceberg. Nigel Farage, leader of UKIP and key campaigner for the pro-Brexit camp, backpedalled just as hard as he could on some of the key pledges that were made to the British people during the campaign, along with a number of Tory MPs. The British pound plummeted, dragging several European markets with it, and international financial markets freaked all the freaking way out, shedding 2 trillion USD worldwide. Scotland, which had based its decision NOT to leave the UK two years ago in no small part on its desire to stay part of the EU, and voted strongly for Remain, deployed Nicola Sturgeon to start kicking ass and taking names. And Jean-Claude Juncker, President of the European Commission, delivered ice-cold shade directly to Nigel Farage’s face:

So for the moment, chaos reigns. It is perhaps the biggest crisis the UK has faced for many decades, and nobody wants to take responsibility for it. Will Boris Johnson be the next Prime Minister of the United Kingdom? Will England be left alone as Scotland, Northern Ireland and even Wales decide they’d rather be part of the other Union, actually? Can the UK ever be friends with Europe again?

EU Summit in Brussels


European policymakers are now left with an unenviable choice. Britain’s exit from the EU comes only one short year after the same debate in Greece threatened to destabilise the entire bloc. They will have to act decisively in order to prevent the fallout from ripping the European Union into very small angry pieces in the coming months and years. Do they extend a hand to help mitigate the damage the referendum result is likely to do to the British economy and society, and particularly to the most vulnerable people in the country? Or do they demonstrate exactly why leaving the EU is a very bad idea, and make an example of Britain’s impending misery?

It’s an extremely dangerous situation. Geert Wilders in the Netherlands and Marine Le Pen in France are already taking as much advantage of the situation as possible in order to further the far-right Eurosceptic movement in their own countries. These movements are vehemently xenophobic, racist and Islamophobic, and they expose Europe to the dangers of division and isolationism that lead to conflict.

Meanwhile, racist and xenophobic outbursts have been reported all over the UK in the wake of the referendum as the dregs of society are emboldened by what they see as a validation of their hatred. Economic recession will hit the poorest in society hardest, and it’s a very real possibility at this stage. What’s more, the burden of repairing the longer-lasting consequences will fall to the youth, who above all other demographics overwhelmingly voted to remain in the EU.

It’s also not clear what the UK’s role on the world stage will be in the future. When the UK joined the European Union, the British Empire was still a thing. Thanks to its colonial past, England has been a hub for international exchange of goods, finance, business and culture for centuries.

Uh, thanks, colonialism?

But now it’s facing the possibility of being entirely alone, without advantage or unity. What does the future hold for an isolated UK? For an isolated England?

The future probably doesn’t hold a second referendum, despite that petition going around (which, hilariously, was actually set up by a pessimistic Leave voter before the results were announced). Perhaps Scotland will try and block the UK’s exit, but to be frank, the dangers of going against the outcome of the referendum at this stage really need to be considered. Commitments were made, and the democratic process yielded this result, even if it is an extremely terrible decision made by an under-informed public and influenced by a line-up of people who will not be treated well by the history books. If the UK government decides to renege on its commitment, there will be a lot of extremely angry extremely hard-right people across the country, fuelled by self-righteous fury. We are only five years distant from the riots in 2011 that swept through the country like a rabid feral cat – they were driven by rage against inequality, and in the end a lot of the rage behind the Leave campaign stems from a similar, though disastrously misdirected, place.

It’s also not clear how the rest of the world is going to be affected, once the rush of tweets and think-pieces (including mine) dies down. Many are looking westward in abject fear of the US election in November and the prospect of Trump riding the rising wave of right-wing populist into the White House. But I’m done prophesying doom for today, so I’ll let Samantha Bee explore that one:



[Header image source: https://pixabay.com/en/brexit-exit-united-kingdom-england-1481024/]

Great Power and Great Responsibility: Belgium’s Nuclear Energy Quandaries

I don’t know about you, but every time I start wading into a news story featuring nuclear anything, I start feeling like we, collectively, as humans, have basically been a toddler that somehow unlocked grandpa’s gun cabinet for the last 75 years or so – we’ve found this Shiny Thing that occasionally goes bang in exciting ways and now we want to see what else we can do with it. And we have absolutely no idea what it’s really capable of. Except instead of just killing like, ourselves, or a loved one, it’s capable of destroying the entire earth. So… more like a toddler that’s got into grandpa’s nuclear warhead cabinet, really.

baby mushroom cloud

I’m really good at metaphors.

Nuclear fission, the process that lies at the core of both atomic bombs and nuclear reactors, has fundamentally altered our world in so many ways that it would be a completely unrecognisable place without it. And while it’s made significant advances in science, engineering and medicine possible, when it comes to associations it’s hard to get past the image of a mushroom cloud and the names of places like Nagasaki, Hiroshima, Chernobyl and Fukushima.


On the other hand, it gave us radioactive spiders which would eventually lead to this amazing cinematic moment, so it’s not all bad. [x]

It’s probably deeply unfair to associate nuclear warfare with nuclear power station disasters, one being intentional destruction and killing with weapons and the other being the accidental result of unforeseen circumstances in otherwise useful infrastructure, but the connections seem a lot more concrete once one gets into discussions about the security issues surrounding nuclear power stations. Discussions like the ones Belgium is currently facing after the death of a guard at a Belgian nuclear facility two days after the attacks in Brussels on the 22nd of March 2016. The incident sparked fears of sabotage to a nuclear power station despite the local prosecutor ruling out any military link to the guard’s death, and further security measures heightened tensions in the weeks following the attacks. Media reports have stoked fears that nuclear plants in Belgium might be potential targets for terrorists seeking nuclear materials.

Which… is not great news, although it’s wise to consume news media in the days and weeks following a terrorist attack with a healthy grain of salt. Besides which, there’s a much larger and longer-running discussion around Belgium’s nuclear power plants that poses serious logistical and political problems for a sizeable portion of Western Europe: really friggin’ old reactors.


They no longer identify with the music played on the radio, they need sleeping pills at night and they’re starting to worry about osteoporosis. [x]

Both the Doel plant on the Dutch border and the Tihange plant near the German border have experienced maintenance and mechanical issues in the last five years. Both plants have reactors dating back to the mid-1970s. The Netherlands and especially Germany are calling for Belgium to mothball the oldest of the reactors in these plants – which were scheduled to be shut down in 2015 – due to fears they might malfunction enough to cause nuclear meltdowns, also known as the worst possible crisis your neighbours can have, narrowly beating out noisy marital disintegration and acquiring an anxious and overzealous Chihuahua.

Germany has made similar demands to France, which is closing its oldest nuclear power station, the 39-year-old Fessenheim, this year. The Energiewende, or energy transition, launched by Angela Merkel’s government in 2011 has seen plans put in place to close all of Germany’s nuclear power facilities by 2022. Largely spurred on by the disaster in Fukushima in March 2011, the Energiewende policies saw a reversal of the CDU’s plan to extend the lifespan of Germany’s nuclear reactors to 2050, and instead beat a hasty retreat to the timeline originally proposed by its left-wing predecessors in government.


“After careful consideration of recent events, we have decided that nuclear fallout is scary as shit and we out. We ouuuttt.” [x]

It’s a policy that is not without its detractors, five years on. Nuclear power still provides about 18% of Germany’s electricity production at the moment. Finding a balance between the difficulties in creating new renewable energy infrastructure and trying to limit the need for increased reliance on fossil fuels is no small task. They’re getting there – almost a third of Germany’s energy requirements were met by renewable sources last year. But the nature of the European energy landscape means that there is a not insignificant amount of import and export between Germany and its neighbours, and Germany’s neighbours are still big into that sweet, sweet, nuclear buzz. While proponents of the Energiewende policy claim this doesn’t compromise Germany’s political position on nuclear energy, the fact remains that nuclear energy will still be passing through Germany’s grid and coffers as long as its neighbours are producing it, and that nuclear disaster – of the kind it fears will happen in Belgium – doesn’t respect national borders.


Nuclear fallout doesn’t even need to show its passport any more! [x]

Is it alarmist to talk about an impending nuclear disaster in Belgium? Maybe not, when you consider that the Belgian government decided three weeks ago in late April to provide iodine pills to its entire population, in case of a nuclear accident. The pills are to prevent the build up of radioactive iodine in the thyroid gland, which is one of the most well recorded hazards of radiation exposure from nuclear accidents. The move doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the government’s decision not to shut down the reactors, but then again it’s worth noting that 60% of Belgium’s electricity comes from nuclear power, so it’s not really a decision they can make lightly.

So how worried should we be? Greenpeace certainly has grave concerns. But nuclear energy proponents point out that the dangers posed by increased fossil fuel usage are a certainty, compared with nuclear power, which only poses the possibility of a threat. There are even arguments that radiation exposure after a nuclear accident isn’t as dangerous as we’ve thought. The problem is that the argument around nuclear energy is deeply polarised, with compelling facts on both sides, but a disturbing lack of scientific certainty or consensus. It often comes down to balancing the benefits of a reduction in greenhouse gas emissions and fossil fuel consumption with the difficulty of storing and disposing of nuclear waste – both extremely long-term issues with ramifications that will need to be dealt with many generations down the line (assuming we don’t annihilate ourselves in the meantime).

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 11.45.41 PM

If only there was a solution… [x]

Ultimately Belgium is left with the choice between taking drastic action to overhaul its energy infrastructure (either in the form of new reactors, or alternative forms of energy production), or crossing its fingers and hoping for the best. But does it have a responsibility to listen to its neighbours on this matter? Given that the EU is currently seeking to strengthen investment in nuclear energy throughout its member states it might be best served by planning construction of new reactors, despite its pledge to phase out reliance on nuclear power. Who knows, maybe we’ll reached the promised land of nuclear fusion, with its increased safety and efficiency, and less hazardous by-products compared to fission. Unfortunately that technology seems to be perpetually thirty years away from commercial production, and Belgium’s problems can’t wait that long. And if it chooses to continue down the path of fission energy, it’s fairly likely that Germany won’t be too keen to let it borrow a cup of sugar or water its houseplants in the near future.



PS While researching I came across that old 1950s video on what to do in case of nuclear attack, so please enjoy this horrifying jaunt through history:

Putin on a Show

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin. Before we start can we just take a moment to see how funny it is that his first name and patronym are the same? I’ll never understand how he or Magnus Magnusson managed to inspire so much terror.


“I’ve started the presidency, so I’ll finish it.”

Putin was born and raised in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) and studied law at university. He then went on to work for the KGB, a vocation which slow news days would have you believe still causes him to walk with a “gunslinger’s gait”.

Already on the first rungs of the political ladder by the time the Soviet Union broke up, it has long been suggested that Putin took the humiliating dismantling of his country very personally and that it has informed his foreign policy since. During the Euromaidan protests in Ukraine, Putin saw his chance to annex Russian-majority Crimea and took it, later agitating for something similar in Donetsk and Luhansk. Prior to this he intervened militarily in Georgia in 2008 when the Georgian President, Mikheil Saakashvili, attempted to bring the breakaway region of South Ossetia under control. Putin even opened up a second front in Abkhazia just for good measure. Bizarrely, Saakashvili is now the Governor of Odessa in Ukraine. That someone can hold two such senior political offices in two different countries in such a short space of time probably says a lot about how an “us-versus-them” mentality has set in in the region.

If you are also an aspiring megalomaniac and don’t really think that two provinces in twelve years is a particularly good record of expansion, remember Putin’s ace in the hole. Unlike many of his Western contemporaries he has the luxury of time. Whilst other leaders could be thrown out of office at the ballot box or are subject to term limits, Putin is not. Well, technically he is, but it doesn’t quite work like that. Putin became a full-fledged president in May 2000 after a brief period as acting president caused by the unexpected resignation of Boris Yeltsin on December 31st 1999. (Yeltsin, who was well-known for enjoying his drink, was clearly planning such an epic millennium eve party that he decided to call in sick to work for the rest of his days.) After eight years as president he was required to stand down, and did a job swap with his prime minister and bad-George-Osbourne-look-alike Dmitry Medvedev. Medvedev had the great idea – entirely on his own, and with no input from Putin whatsoever – to increase the length of a presidential term from four years to six. When election time came round in 2012 it was everyone’s favourite Vladimir who won the day, paving the way for his time in power to run till at least 2024, by which time he’ll be 71 and have been president for twenty years, longer than the previous four Russian/Soviet leaders combined.

In Soviet Russia as, they say, elections lose you.

soviet leaders

Who even was Yuri Andropov? No, genuinely, who actually was he?

It’s also worth remembering that Putin didn’t begin with conquering new territory straight away; he had to keep the remains of his own country together first. Early in Putin’s presidency Chechnya posed a real threat of secession and certain individuals within the North Caucasus seemed willing to resort to any means necessary to accomplish that. The 2002 Moscow theatre siege ended in the deaths of 130 hostages, although some blame was put on the way security forces handled the operation. In 2004, just months after Chechen President Akhmat Kadyrov was assassinated, over 1200 people were taken hostage at a school in Beslan by a group of 32 terrorists, at least eight of whom had been arrested and released shortly before the attack. The siege ended after three days with the deaths of over three hundred hostages, many of them children, and most of the remaining hostages injured. The way in which the security forces acted again came under scrutiny, with foreign journalists harassed, misinformation spread on Russian state TV and the suggestion that many of the deaths were caused not by terrorist booby-traps but by rockets fired by the Russian forces.

The reason that those extended presidential terms are a dead cert to be beneficial for Putin is because the opposition politicians in Russia are routinely silenced, as are the guns used to silence them. A prominent opposition leader and former Deputy Prime Minister, Boris Nemtsov, was assassinated in 2015 just one day after called for a march against the war in Ukraine. The war was a major coup (quite literally) for Putin but also a delicate balancing act. He wanted to appear to be bringing some of “old” Russia back into the fold, a popular move back home, but without admitting to the rest of the world that Russia was actually fighting the war on sovereign Ukrainian territory, despite all the evidence to the contrary. After Nemtsov was murdered Putin personally oversaw the investigation into the killing, an investigation which came to the unusual conclusion that the assassination was carried out by Chechens angered by Nemtsov’s anti-Islam remarks, especially his solidarity with the cartoonists killed in the Charlie Hebdo attacks.

And he’s far from the first person die suspiciously under Putin’s watch. Journalist Anna Politkovskaya was shot dead as she was preparing to file a report heavily critical of the then Prime Minister and now President of Chechnya Ramzam Kadyrov. Ramzan, the son of former President Akhmat Kadyrov, was accused of endorsing the use of torture by his security services. Incidentally, Kadyrov was hand-picked by Putin who signed a decree removing his predecessor from office and nominating Kadyrov for the post shortly after he became constitutionally old enough for the office. In another coincidence, which is beginning to feel a lot less like a coincidence, Politkovaskaya attempted to help negotiate with the hostage-takers during the Beslan school siege but was twice stopped from boarding a plane. When she finally did manage to get on board, she was given a poisoned cup of tea which caused her to lose consciousness.


Politkovskaya (l) and Litvinenko (r).

Then there was the FSB defector Alexander Litvinenko who was poisoned in London by radioactive polonium in his tea, something which is fast seeming like a more dangerous Russian drink than poorly-distilled methanol-containing vodka. Whilst Andrey Lugovoy was considered the main suspect, Moscow rejected a British extradition request, presumably thinking that the traces of polonium-210 found in the hotels he stayed in, restaurants he ate at, planes he flew on and his own admission to a Moscow hospital for suspected radiation poisoning were merely coincidences. Just to bring this all round to a depressing full circle Litvinenko had commented upon the Beslan school siege, saying that it is inconceivable that the terrorists responsible were freed without being useful to the FSB and that they were either coerced or allowed to carry out the attack as a false flag operation. It is a very easy thing to use the internet to claim false flag conspiracies for everything (Pearl Harbour, 9/11) with varying qualities of evidence to back it up. As a former secret agent Litvinenko could have known many things that made him an assassination target, but it’s not implausible that his insight into Beslan was one of them.

Of course all this is denied by the Kremlin, but Putin has presided over a culture of secrecy, confusion and crushing of dissent that at best has allowed these rumours to take hold and allowed many people to find them highly plausible.

And what about those stories that after a marriage to Rupert Murdoch and her brief flirtation with Tony Blair, Wendi Deng’s penchant for evil has finally brought her to a relationship with Vladimir Putin? Maybe not everything you read about him is true.


Bonus: It’s not really got anything to do with the article, but here’s an Epic Rap Battle of History.

The Good, The Ads & The Ugly, Apr 2016 – Galaxy/Audrey Hepburn

Do you want things? Generally, yes – but which things? Adverts attempt to make that decision for you but sometimes they go the opposite way and make you hate the corporate world more than you thought imaginable. This is The Good, The Ads & The Ugly.

This month’s ad has been around a long time but it’s still being shown so it’s fair game.

The ad itself is fairly inoffensive. Unsettlingly so. What’s weird is that it doesn’t feel weird. Yes, there’s a general attempt to sell the chocolate as some sort of elegant status symbol evocative of 1950s Italy and the rather odd tagline “why have cotton when you can have silk”. I’d never really associated chocolate with putting cotton in my mouth and I’m pretty sure the slogan writers didn’t know what cotton mouth was when they came up with it, but OK. I’m just saying it doesn’t immediately feel like Galaxy is being targeted at stoners with a bad case of the munchies.

Where this advert really comes into its own is when you realise it should feel weirder. And it really should, when you consider the main actress has been dead for over twenty years. We’ve become so used to this technology so quickly that it barely registers that this is basically what would have passed for sorcery at the turn of the century. (For anyone still catching up that’s the 21st century we’re on about.)

The first time I remember this sort of thing being used in advertising was this much more in-your-face spot featuring the late comedian Bob Monkhouse.

Now that one does feel weird. Maybe it’s because the computer rendering isn’t spot-on, maybe it’s because Monkhouse actively addresses his death, probably it’s a mixture of both those things. Still, it’s difficult to get too worked up about it, because it is in aid of a very good cause.

Whilst many celebrities’ existing bodies of work experience a resurgence after their death, not all stars relish the idea of being used to create new material post mortem. Robin Williams’ will, for example, explicitly states that his likeness cannot be used for 25 years after his death. Too bad for all the celebs who kicked the bucket before this technology was invented, but surely something a few more discerning artists have tucked away in their final legal documents.

After all, there’s no public backlash against this kind of resurrection of the dead for commercial reasons. What’s weird is that it doesn’t feel weird.


Intertwined Destinies: On Böhmermann, Brussels, and German-Turkish Relations

When I started researching this article two weeks ago, the current furore around German comedian-turned-international-scandal-item Jan Böhmermann was merely a blip in the post-April Fool’s day round up. It was with mingled bewilderment and frustration that I watched the news unfold in the following days – frustration not only at Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s squashing of free expression both within his borders and internationally, but also because I was hoping to get ahead of the curve in English language news coverage of the incident. Once John Oliver’s got hold of a topic, though, you can be pretty sure everyone’s going to hear about it.

Yes, just about everybody is talking about the so-called “Schmähkritik Gedicht”, which more or less translates to “slander poem”. Böhmermann, who hosts the popular satirical comedy show Neo Magazin Royale, wrote the segment in support of his fellow entertainers at extra-3, whose own toe-tapping satirical song about Erdogan was already drawing ire from the Turkish president:

(Turn on subtitles for the English translation)

“Je suis extra-3!” declared Böhmermann, after carefully explaining (apparently to Erdogan himself) that the freedom of the press is a protected right in Germany under Article 5 of the Grundgesetz, or German Basic Law, and as such extra-3’s song constitutes legal, valid political criticism. “There are instances, however,” he continued, “in which – there’s art, there’s artistic freedom, that’s permitted, and on the other side, there’s – what’s it called? ‘Schmähkritik’.”

“When you defame people, when you insult someone,” supplied his colleague Ralf Kabelka, helpfully.

“Do you understand, Herr Erdogan? That can actually be prosecuted… Maybe it’s a bit complicated, perhaps we’ll quickly explain with a small example,” Böhmermann said, and proceeded to recite a rather grandiose verse in which the Turkish president was, among other things, accused of fucking goats, oppressing minorities, beating girls, and enjoying fellatio with a hundred sheep instead of sleeping (it is, we should note, not clear who was doing the fellating). “But these are things we’re not allowed to say, right?” interjected Böhmermann at several points.

Cue uproar, and – as Böhmermann himself predicted – legal repercussions.

This is a tricky situation for German Chancellor Angela Merkel. Or rather, as Spiegel Online is declaring with delighted morbidity, it’s a harbinger of doom for her leadership (to be fair, declaring that Merkel is doomed is Spiegel Online’s absolute favourite hobby right now).


They’re building up their Anguished Angela/Mournful Merkel picture gallery [x]

The main cause of tension is the fact that Merkel has been determinedly brokering a deal with the Turkish government that would see refugees arriving by boat in Greece returned to Turkey, in exchange for the same number of refugees being resettled in Europe through more official channels. The ‘one in, one out’ arrangement is already being carried out, with Syrian refugees arriving in Germany and Finland in early April. The plan has come under heavy criticism from human rights groups, with UNHCR declaring that it violates European and international law by returning asylum seekers to a third country (that is, neither the country they are fleeing nor the country in which they sought asylum). Merkel, however – along with other European leaders – is desperately hoping that this will abate the never-ending political nightmare that is European refugee policy.

Syria. Aid distribution in Yarmouk camp

The political nightmare has nothing on the actual nightmare playing out right now [x]

In her efforts not to alienate such a key player in this crucial plan, Merkel has allowed for Böhmermann to be prosecuted under German law – albeit an archaic and little-used law forbidding insults against foreign heads of state, which the Chancellor has subsequently vowed to get rid of by 2018. A little too late for Jan, certainly. But this episode in German-Turkish relations is part of a much larger picture, and in fact is contributing to tipping a much larger set of scales than simply Erdogan v. Böhmermann.

I mentioned earlier that I’ve been researching this article for a couple of weeks. In late March, I visited my friend Betül Gülsen in Hannover, who wanted my opinion on something.

“What do you think about the reaction to the Brussels attacks?” she asked me. “I mean, compared to the reaction to the explosions in Turkey.”

“Well,” I answered her, “I’ve heard almost nothing about Turkey, and almost nothing but Brussels in the last week.”

Betül nodded. “I don’t think they’re going to treat every terrorist attack the same, but why couldn’t the government put the Turkish flag up on the Brandenburger Tor [Brandenburg Gate] after Ankara or Istanbul? Just doing that one thing, just to recognise that we are part of this country, and that those attacks have a real effect on a lot of Germans and people who live here. Why can’t they include us, if they can include Belgium?”

Why, indeed? There have been countless arguments written about how not all terrorist attacks are equal in the eyes of Western news media, even when two incidents happen within days of each other in two European capitals. This article can’t hope to contribute to that wider conversation right now – the fact of the matter is that the case of Germany’s response to the attacks in Turkey and the attacks in Belgium occur within a very specific context, which adds another, more urgent layer to that question: why didn’t Germany stand in solidarity with Turkey the way it did with Belgium?

Betül is Turkish German – born in Turkey, and raised in Germany, she is one of approximately 2.71 million people residing in Germany who have at least one Turkish parent. Turks are the largest immigrant group in the country, and have formed an integral part of German society and culture since the Gastarbeiter (or guest worker) programme of the 1960s and 70s resulted in a wave of immigration.

This instance, in which there was such a large influx of foreign workers – and more specifically, a large number of Muslims – invites comparison with Germany’s current struggles to integrate new arrivals in the country. The persistent racism with which the Turkish population has struggled for many years is already showing its larger, more threatening face to refugees in the form of such extreme right movements as PEGIDA.


Although the only movement worth comparing to PEGIDA is a bowel movement [x]

The German government did issue a statement of solidarity with Turkey (and also Côte d’Ivoire) on March 14th. Merkel made a statement of condolence and solidarity for the families of ten victims, including eight Germans, of the bombing near Istanbul’s Sultanahmet in January of this year. But it doesn’t really compare to the explicit, deliberate and deeply felt reaction to the horrific terrorist attacks in Brussels.

“The frustration stems from the fact that not projecting the Turkish flag on the Brandenburger Tor seems symbolic for Turkish people living in Germany as: Try as hard as you can (or don’t try), you’ll never be a proper part of the German society,” Betül explained to me. “Like, you’re good enough to build up this country after World War II, but apparently not good enough to sympathise with you in terms of solidarity with your families.”

Clearly, there are political motivations behind the German government offering unconditional alliance and support to Belgium and not to Turkey. There are numerous complex relationships in play, not least the ever-looming question of Turkey’s accession to the EU, which many commentators (including German finance minister Wolfgang Schäuble) have ruled as impossible, despite Turkey’s long and influential shared history with Europe.


Erdogan’s personal politics are significant here, too. His government’s flagrant abuse of human rights would make any sane politician wary of aligning themselves too closely with the Turkish administration.

But surely there must be a middle ground here. Isn’t it possible for Germany’s government to separate its criticism of the Turkish state with its empathy for the Turkish people (who are, after all, in many cases also the German people, and also the primary victims of said human rights abuses)? Indeed, it’s in the government’s best interests to mitigate the ongoing marginalisation of Muslims and foreigners in Europe and in Germany specifically – after all, it’s increasingly clear that the primary cause of extremism is alienation, which is leading to severe rifts in societies such as France’s.

This is not at all to say that the Turkish population of Germany poses a terrorist risk. On the contrary – Germany’s extensive Turkish population presents the perfect opportunity for a Western European country to genuinely embrace cultural and religious diversity, in a clear and unambiguous manner. They’ve been part of Germany for over half a century, and are already well on the way to full inclusion in German identity and culture and the best possible outcome of Germany and Turkey’s already tightly intertwined futures. But Germany must be prepared to meet them in the middle.

This doesn’t mean sacrificing criticism of the Turkish government (and indeed, in response to the scandal, UK-based magazine The Spectator has set up a competition to insult Erdogan for a prize of £1,000, so there’s more incentive than ever). While Jan Böhmermann has received accusations of racism for his Schmähkritik, there is little doubt that his criticism was aimed squarely and exclusively at the Turkish President and not at the population in general. I really want to show you the clip (with the all-important context, although it’s all in German), but it’s being taken down at lightning speed all over the internet, so there’s no guarantee this link will still work even at the time of publishing this article:


As for Betül, she wrote a letter of support to Herr Böhmermann assuring him that not all Turks felt the same way about his poem (which received a mixed reaction in the Turkish press), although she expressed frustration that he’d made it so easy for Erdogan to come after him in the courts. Nevertheless, she’s promised to send him baklava.



PS – if you want to see some of Böhmermann’s work in English, then this video followed directly after the Schmähkritik segment:

[Header image credit: FOCUS Online]

Bangladeshi Blogger Killings

Last week a secular activist and blogger, Nazimuddin Samad, was hacked to death in Bangladesh. His death follows a trend begun last year when several atheist bloggers were murdered as a result of their writing. The incident is troubling and in the one act ties together several complex issues of religion, terrorism and free speech.

Modern Bangladesh first appeared during the partition of India after independence from Britain in 1947. Originally East Pakistan, the region fought for and won independence in 1971. Despite being a country with a large Muslim majority, Bangladesh has always been more cosmopolitan than other countries in the region. Due in part to shared cultural links with neighbouring Indian states like West Bengal and its proximity to South-East Asia, there are significant communities of Hindus, Buddhists and Christians in Bangladesh and the country is officially secular. Into this melting pot, two newer groups have been poured over the last twenty years. On one side there is the blogger, able to reach out to a wide audience with intellectual think-pieces on the nature of secularism; on the other the slow trickle of extremist al-Qaeda sympathisers who are willing to take drastic action of any perceived slight to their ideology.


You can have a province in any colour you like as long as it’s green

Nazimuddin Samad was hacked at in the street by at least four assailants, one of whom then shot him. This incident is reminiscent of a spate of seemingly targeted killings last year. Between February and August 2015 four bloggers – Avijit Roy, Washiqur Rahman Babu, Ananta Bijoy Das and Niloy Neel – were murdered in similar circumstances. The case of Neel is particularly indicative of the way these attacks play out. He reported to police that he had been followed home in the days leading up to his death, but these reports were never followed up. Whilst these bloggers are often described at secular or atheist and those descriptions are probably completely accurate, many of the comments of Neel and others feel fairly measured. This wasn’t the smug self-surety of Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, nor are we talking about cartoons of the Prophet here. The main thrust of their writing was simply a denouncement of extremism, a repudiation of radical beliefs. The same sentiments which we might expect any politician or newspaper to offer were enough to get these men killed.


L-r: Roy, Babu, Das and Neel

In Neel’s case Ansar al-Islam, a local offshoot of al-Qaeda, claimed responsibility for the attack. The police have suggested that that the other attacks, as well as the murders of a Christian pastor and two Sufi instructors or pirs, bear similar hallmarks and may have been carried out by the same group. The possibility remains that these are instead copycat attacks and indeed the police have been quick to implicate other Islamist groups such as Jamaat-ul Mujahideen and Ansarullah Bangla Team in the assaults. Whoever is behind the attacks, one thing for sure is that they bear the hallmarks of terrorism. What we think of as terrorism are the large-scale attacks with high body counts. 9/11, Bali, Mumbai in 2008 all stick in our minds but the terror caused, while widespread, is arguably short-lived. People were flying on 9/12 and Bali and Mumbai remain vibrant international hubs. These lone killings, however, are just as much an act of terror as any. Their extremely targeted nature make them much more terrifying for the small group of people being persecuted. That kind of fear would follow you every time you left the house. When you factor in the fact that radicals asked the interior ministry to punish a list of 84 writers in 2013 and that several people on that list are now dead, the situation must be incomprehensibly bad.

Despite all the finger-pointing, no-one has yet been prosecuted for any of these killings. This week, after the murder of Nazimuddin Samad brought these ugly scenes back to the streets of Dhaka, Bangladeshi students protested at what they saw as the inaction of the authorities to prevent this kind of attack. They blamed the police, not only for failing to protect bloggers such at Niloy Chatterjee whose reports of being followed went unheeded, but also for giving succour to whoever wishes to continue these attacks by not bringing anyone to justice over them, thus suggesting these people can murder with impunity. The students were also angry at their government for not doing more to prevent the attacks. Indeed, the Prime Minister, Sheikh Hasina was rather unhelpful when she used her remarks on the killings last year to blame her opposition Bangladesh National Party for the attacks. Hasina, it is worth noting, is only Prime Minister because all the opposition parties boycotted the 2014 general election and over half the seats in parliament were uncontested.



It seems somehow trite to attempt to empathise with people who literally risk their lives to speak out against injustices they see. We didn’t set out writing this blog to make friends and maybe we thought we had some wrongs to right in the world. We’ve said worse things about less deserving people. We can pretend to operate with the same sense of purpose, the same daring nature as the bloggers in Bangladesh. But we don’t have to fear the potential for reprisals, short of a sarcastic retweet. We can’t really compare ourselves to people who lay everything on the line to make their voices heard.

There’s always a line to tread between free speech and hate speech. In America, the same constitutional protections that allow Donald Trump to call Mexicans drug dealing rapists and allow state to roll back anti-discrimination laws under the guise of religious expression also allow people to burn the American flag and complain about the content of the Bible. Elsewhere in the world, the laws covering hate speech are often rolled into ones dealing with blasphemy. Whilst it may come as no surprise that countries such as Iran and Saudi Arabia take a dim view of blasphemy, it might be more surprising to find out that under these conditions countries like Germany and New Zealand have prison sentences ready for potential blasphemers.


The heavy price of free speech.

Many will continue to argue what limitations should be put on free speech and whilst I believe we should always err on the side of free speech, what we all should agree on it that no-one should ever die for saying what they think.



FEAR #7: Malaria

If you’re over the age of 10 then you may have noticed a trend in the way that infectious diseases are reported. When an outbreak occurs in a far-flung nation, TVs and computer screens across the world are lit up with close approximations of a zombie apocalypse.


While there have undoubtedly been some horrific outbreaks, most recently Zika and Ebola, by their very nature many of these diseases are unlikely to become a long-term scourge on humanity. Often an inaccurate picture of reality is conjured by vested interests to score political points or to maintain their position at the pinnacle of ignorant arseholery

We can only hope that the victims got some help during their disease’s fifteen minutes of fame because once the story has served its purpose and the disease fails to live up to the hype, we don’t hear about it again (Bird Flu? SARS? Swine Flu?). Unfortunately, some diseases won’t toe the editorial line, insisting on providing a constant flow of tragedy that numbs us to their awfulness. Malaria is one such disease.

The name “malaria” literally means “bad air” and the reality of transmission is almost as ethereal. Silent, minute creatures fly into your room while you sleep, inject you with an incurable disease and leave without waking you. It sounds like the nightmare of an anti-vax campaigner, but sadly for the 214 million annual victims the nightmare is all too real.

The Plasmodium parasites that cause malaria line the salivary glands of the Anopheles mosquito. When the mosquito takes a blood meal the parasites are injected into the bloodstream (normally around 10-100 of them) and immediately head for the liver where they enter the cells and replicate like mad. Normally, after one or two weeks the parasite leaves the liver and begins a cycle of infection, multiplication and reinfection of red blood cells.


Mobile forms of the Plasmodium parasite, known as sporozoites, are present in the salivary glands of Anopheles mosquitoes. Credit.

The parasites break out of the red blood cells and into the bloodstream in a synchronised manner. The frequency of these breakouts is dependent upon the species of Plasmodium the patient is infected with, as shown in the table below:

Species % Cases Red Blood Cell Cycle Average No. Parasites per μL of Blood
P. falciparum 50 48 hours 20,000-500,000
P. vivax 43 48 hours 20,000
P. malariae 7 72 hours 6000
P. ovale Rare 50 9000
Data from http://www.mjhid.org/article/view/333/450

This synchronisation is a key factor in malaria’s success; a sudden onslaught of parasites producing toxins is far more difficult for the immune system to fight and is the cause of the spike in fever that is most closely associated with malaria.

If the disease is allowed to develop the situation can become grave, a quick search online offers up descriptions like:

“The pain was so intense; I actually believed I was dying”

Things can get especially bad if P.falciparum is involved. This species can cross into the brain and causes hundreds of thousands of cases of cerebral malaria annually. In endemic regions it is a leading cause of childhood neuro-disability and it can strike with devastating speed. In all, malaria causes approximately 400,000 deaths annually and in the 97 nations where it is endemic (see map below), it is often the primary cause of infant mortality.

malaria map

Always interesting to see how much it follows political boundaries.

In fact, the fight against malaria has gone on for so long that it has left its imprint on human genetics. For example, sickle cell anaemia – a genetic disorder which offers resistance to malaria – is thought to have evolved on several occasions. Unfortunately, people who inherit the gene from both parents tend to suffer from chronic pain and a massively reduced life expectancy. It’s the genetic version of out of the frying pan and into the fire and it kills hundreds of thousands per year.

Less terrifyingly, some West Africans have developed immunity to P.vivax and P.malariae by losing the red blood cell receptor (Duffy Blood Group) that these two species bind to. Furthermore, new-borns can gain resistance from their mother, but it wears off if they do not build up their own by contracting many strains of malaria in childhood. The same is true for adults; if they leave the malaria zone they may lose their resistance.

Thankfully, in the modern world humans are not entirely reliant on good genes and mother’s milk. Current malaria prevention techniques fit into 3 categories: stopping the parasite in humans, stopping the mosquitoes, and prevention of contact between the two.

Stopping the parasite in humans tends to mean drugs. The oldest example of effective chemotherapy is the use of artemisinin by, you guessed it, the Chinese around 2000 years ago. Europeans had to wait another 1700 years until they got their hands on quinine, and it wasn’t until 1934 that the German company Bayer invented chloroquine. Since then several chemically synthesised drugs have been mass produced.

The problem with relying on drugs against such a prolific and deadly parasite is that it encourages overuse and the development of resistant strains. For example, resistance to chloroquine first occurred in the early sixties in South America (it was mixed into salt and flour!) and South East Asia (potentially due to overuse by troops in Vietnam).

What is really required to stop the parasite in humans is a vaccine (because they work, despite what overzealous idiots on the internet say). Potential vaccines have three strategies, anti-infection (stop the parasites before they reproduce in the liver), anti-disease (stop the infection and re-infection of the red blood cells), and transmission blocking (stop the parasite getting back into a mosquito). Previously, promising vaccines have been shown to be ineffective, but the recent development of the RTS,S vaccine, which blocks the parasite before it reaches the liver offers hope. This vaccine has been approved by European regulators and is the first licensed vaccine against parasitic infection of any kind. While this is a massive positive step, RTS,S is only intended for use against P.falciparum – emphasising the problem with combating 4 species at once – and trials showed that it is only effective in infants 27% of the time.

The slow progress with vaccine development means that efforts must be made to reduce the mosquito population. One method is to reduce mosquito breeding sites. Mosquito larvae require standing water to develop so the elimination of open sewers and litter, such as plastic bottles where water can pool, is a must. This requires a concerted effort from individuals on a local scale and does little to help those who live near lakes or swamps.

Population control using insecticides has proven to be controversial; DDT was initially successful, but it persists in food chains and resistance has developed. Regardless of the insecticide, blanket spraying is too expensive for such a large problem and selective spraying is not 100% effective.  A less invasive option is biological control, such as the introduction of fish that prey on mosquito larvae.

The final technique, prevention of contact, has also run into some issues. In tropical climates thick clothing is not a realistic option, but bed nets have been provided by governments and NGOs for night-time protection. But, as anyone who’s slept under one knows, they can be stifling and any gap means mosquitoes can be trapped inside making things much worse. Misuse is also an issue.

Obviously more education on malaria prevention is required, but all is not lost. For those of us who can’t be trusted to look after our own welfare, scientists are working on introducing genetically modified mosquitoes that are resistant to the parasite. This may be a long way from realisation, but a trial using a similar technique is under way in the Florida Keys as part of an effort to limit the spread of dengue fever.

Despite all the flaws in the battle against malaria, using a variety of control methods in concert is beginning to pay off, and it does seem that humanity is finally starting to win. The Roll Back Malaria Campaign claims that from 2000 to 2015, an estimated 6.2 million lives were saved as a result of a scale-up of malaria interventions and around 5.9 million of these were children under the age of five. Furthermore, 19 countries are on the cusp of eliminating malaria. With this in mind, the campaign has set the ambitious target of reducing mortality rates by 90% and eradicating malaria in 35 more countries by 2030. To celebrate, here’s a photobombing mosquito.


The Good, The Ads & The Ugly, Mar 2016 – Walkers/Tear ‘n’ Share

Do you want things? Generally, yes – but which things? Adverts attempt to make that decision for you but sometimes they go the opposite way and make you hate the corporate world more than you thought imaginable. This is The Good, The Ads & The Ugly.

So this is what it’s come to. Ignore anything that’s actually going on in this advert. By now Gary Lineker’s crisp-based antics have been going on so long, they’re essentially a British institution, accepted as a fixture in our lives despite their obvious tedium. Like a snack equivalent of the shipping forecast or the House of Lords.

No, this time it’s the product itself which is fundamentally at fault. A crisp packet that opens down the side to turn it into a crisp bowl. Imagine the meeting that brought that creation upon us. This, my friends, is the crisp equivalent of that time they put tongue scrapers on toothbrushes.

Maybe one of the middle-managers had seen his intern or one of his teenage children do it and brought it to show his wide-eyed colleagues. Because this idea isn’t new. The essential idea has existed in life hack form (the ultimate arbiter of ideas) since at least the beginning of the decade. And I am broadly sympathetic to anyone whose job it is to attempt to innovate crisps. These people have to go home at night and look their loved ones in the eye in full knowledge of the fact that they are responsible for such ill-conceived abominations as Doritos Roulette.

But this idea is just so obviously unnecessary. At some point when you were a kid someone probably told you, because kids are stupid, basically Illuminati conspiracy YouTube channels walking around in human form, they would have told you that opening your crisp packet upside down was bad luck. But then when you reached your teenage years and you were still learning the many and varied ways of the world, still trying to order a pint of Carling in a convincing baritone, the pub would have taught you that there is only one way to open a packet of crisps for sharing.


Behold the glory of the crinkle-cut laid bare.

Outside of the pub environment, a place I believe anecdotally to exist, you can simply open the bag as normal and offer it round for people to dip into. Whilst this new bag revolutionises that oh, no wait, Alan and Jamie still just offer the packet round as they would have done anyway. The new design has done literally nothing to change the way crisps are eaten.


Alan Hansen has never seen anything so awful and he watches the England team for a living.

And nor should it. In these health-conscious times, crisps should be helping us reject our inner lard-arse by making it harder to reach them. Pringles have pioneered this technique, an advancement necessitated by the ridiculously addictive nature of their crisps. The narrow tube makes it increasingly difficult to grab the remaining crisps as time goes on. The only ones with nimble enough fingers to grab them would be children, except Pringles have this covered too because by then children’s arms are too short to reach the bottom of the tube.

So come on Walkers, save us from ourselves. Instead of a bag that turns into a bowl, how about one that turns into a sieve? Or one that turns into a blender and takes an index finger off if you scoff the food too fast? Step up to the plate, the arteries of Britain need you, the bowls do not.


The Easter Bunny: Part-Time Time Lord

We’ve had three months to recover from Christmas and now another chocapocalypse is upon us. This weekend it’s Easter and the nonsensical frenzied hunts for chocolate eggs (laid and packaged by a magical rabbit with a seemingly infinite supply of tin foil and an odd penchant for advertising the calorific value of its offspring) will be in full swing once more. However, this year the bunny is demanding something in return. On Sunday the nation will rise to the realisation that an hour of our lives will be held hostage until October.

Advocates of the shrewdly named “Daylight Saving Time” (DST), which begins with the theft of an hour of the night, claim the system saves energy. People tend to be awake longer in the evening than in the morning, so shifting the clock forward means they use less energy for light in the evening. The fact that the first major implementations of DST occurred during the First World War and were repeated in subsequent times of need suggests that there is some substance to this argument. However, in the century since, electricity consumption patterns have diversified from basic light and heat to stuff like this:

turkey fryer

Not sure whether to salivate or cry.

Unsurprisingly, such “advances” have led to differing conclusions in contemporary studies of the energy benefits of DST e.g. here and here.

However, there is one cast iron positive that DST advocates can always fall back on, increased leisure activity due to lighter evenings. This tends to be a boon for retailers, especially sports retailers, as people drag themselves blinking into the rare British sunlight in order to get just enough exercise to stave off death for the coming winter months.

Unfortunately, there is evidence that any positive health effects may be cancelled out by an increased risk of heart attacks in the days following the clocks going forward. Furthermore, combining the start of DST with the piousness-free, gluttonous modern day Easter–where we are carpet bombed with calories over a long sedentary weekend—seems like some kind of sinister Murdoch inspired synergism designed to cull the population.

Thankfully, if you were to have a heart attack, the ambulance that took you to hospital would be less likely to crash. Data suggests that road traffic accidents are reduced due to the lighter evenings, leading to campaigns for the clocks to go even further forward into what is termed double summer time. This idea did actually reach the floor of Parliament a few years ago in the form of the Daylight Saving Bill. The bill was met with derision from MPs in more northern constituencies where the winter sun would not rise until late morning, apparently a danger to school children.

After several weak attempts at wit (“Surely midday is not called midday by accident.”) the bill was filibustered, but jacob ress mogg cuthbertnot before real life Cuthbert from the Bash Street Kids, Jacob Rees-Mogg, attempted to create a separate time zone for Somerset. Rural workers, in places like Somerset, are vocal opponents to DST as agricultural routines based on sunrise and sunset tend not to deal well with the clock shift, so maybe Rees-Mogg was onto something. Regrettably, this idea never had the backing of David Cameron who said:

“We are a United Kingdom. I want us to have a united time zone.”

A noble sentiment indeed. So on Sunday morning just remember, you may be tired and unhappy, but we are all in this time zone together.