Too rational for a Restaurant

You may have noticed a bit of a dearth of blog entries lately. If you have, this suggests that you have been checking regularly enough to notice a lack of regular updates. If this is the case, it implies to me that your life has even less going on in it than my own. In which case, kudos to you for not going stark-raving mad. Assuming you haven't. If you have, that's understandable. I probably would.

The reason for my lack of updating is that, during November, I swore I'd take a break from the online activities to concentrate on:

A) Things I'm being paid to do.

B) Finding more things that people will pay me to do.

I'm looking for regular work, essentially. I have several projects on the go that keep me active, but nothing concrete and reliable as of yet. So, as much as I enjoy my cynical waffling, skeptical networking, science satirising etc., I decided to put my virtual procrastination to one side and find some real work.

This provided some interesting results.

One of the things I've found when you apply for work in the scientific/academic fields is that they take quite a while to reply to you, if at all (this may be just me, admittedly). Once an application has been sent, I often find myself in some form of employment quantum superstate, in which I must keep applying for jobs because I don't have one, and must refrain from making too many applications as I might have an interview to worry about soon. If they don't bother telling you, being rejected instantly and being considered for interview feel exactly the same.

But one piece of advice I've been given is that if you're already working you're more likely to get a job than those who have been unemployed for a long period. This seems like a weird system to me, but I'm not in charge, so don't get to do anything about it. So, as a result, I've been applying for more 'mainstream' jobs in and around my local area.

So, I give you the story of why rational thinking meant that I'll never be a marketer

I recently applied for a role in a marketing company in the city centre. I saw the vacancies notice, sent off my CV, and thought no more of it. The ad read like some standard admin role, possibly with some events organising included (which I do definitely have experience in). I didn't have long to not think about it though, as I got a reply within 10 minutes. This struck me as odd, and it said something along the lines of 'can you come for a quick 10-15 minute interview next Monday?' The words 'cattle call' were at the forefront of my mind; this was obviously one of those occasions where they just invite everyone who included enough correctly spelled words on a CV which wasn't written in yellow crayon to turn up, and see if they're suitable face-to-face. Reading just takes time, doesn't it? And as for having to assess information...

I never enjoy this sort of thing, but I had Skeptics in the Pub that evening so needed to be in town anyway, so thought 'why not?'...

Why do I never attempt to answer the question 'why not?' I don't really know anything about marketing companies apart from what my Dad tells me and what I read in Dilbert.

Anyway, I went to the interview, suited and booted, with another copy of my CV as requested (I'd emailed it to them twice already, but I guess they were low on printer ribbons). After filling in a form with all my details which I had already emailed them (printer issues again, I guess) and waiting for about 30 minutes, I was ushered into an office, introduced to a guy who's name I instantly forgot (not deliberately, I'm bizarrely crap with names) and began the interview. It was basically a monologue about the company, how it's expanded 40,000% during the recession (not an exaggeration, that's what he said, which suggests that this company covers a decent fraction of the Earth's surface), how they were desperately looking for people to train up to management level within 6-10 months, as opposed to 3-5 years. It was lucky he had a copy of my CV, as he needed something to doodle rough diagrams on while he spoke, just in case I had trouble understanding what was being said. I'd have brought him a load of scrap paper if I'd known in advance that's what they wanted to do.

[by the way, it may seem like I'm being quite condescending towards the company and people involved, as if I'm some sort of superior being with my doctorate, mocking the intellectual proles who have to make a living in the commercial sector. I assure you that is not the case, my scorn is undeniably deserved, as will become clear]

He asked how I felt about the company and position they were offering. I felt 'OK', seeing as I was still unsure what they were on about. Asked how soon I could come back for a second interview/observation day, to 'see how the company operates and were you'd fit in', I told them the following week, already having prior commitments for the rest of that week. Apparently, this was too long, they were looking to hire people right away. I conceded this and apologised for wasting their time, and left.

When I got home, there was an email waiting for me, telling me that they had been very impressed with my interview and wanted to invite me to an observation day in 2 days time. This was followed by another email saying that they had rearranged the day to the following Monday in order to suit my schedule, but would be unable to change it again. Not bad for a 20 minute walk, I thought.

I was reluctant to go spend an entire day at this weird company, but as my wife said, "what have I got to lose?"

I really need to stop assuming questions like this are rhetorical.

The email explained that the day would be spent shadowing other members of the company as they go about a typical day, so I could learn the ropes, so to speak. I'd been assured that they didn't do cold-calling (something I could never do, I genuinely balk at the thought of it), they only deal with big corporations, and they operate at a number of levels. I assumed this day would be spent travelling round the various offices, seeing what's what and who goes where etc. I was advised to wear comfortable shoes as I'd be on my feet all day, which makes sense.

So, I arrived at the office again, in my suit and shoes. I had to fill in another form (I guess they lost the last one), and was eventually introduced to the manager on duty; Mitch.

Mitch was as Mitch sounds; every cliché of the slick marketing manager you could think of. Custom made suit, highlights, false tan, overbearing bonhomie, a tendency to speak very loudly in corporate jargon. Needless to say, I did not take an instant liking to him. My friend Dave puts it best, when he says you just known Mitch is the sort of guy who uses his own name as a verb. As in "You just got Mitch-slapped!" when he beats someone in a drinking game or pissing contest, or some other meaningless display of macho prowess. Mitch introduced me to the guy who would be showing me around all day, who wasn't objectionable enough to warrant naming here, so let's call him Phil. Mitch said the following.

MITCH: "Hi Dean mate, this is Phil, he'll be showing you around today. The good news is, we're looking to employ 3 people by the end of the day. The bad news is, we already have 15 guys out in the field, so you'll have to pull all the stops out if you want to impress me today"

Unfortunately, I didn't really feel the need to impress Mitch. I'd met him 30 seconds previous, and had already thought of about a dozen ways in which he could meet his untimely demise. Arguably, this is impressive, but I doubt he'd have seen it that way.

So, Phil leads me out of Mitch's office, out of the reception area, toward a nearby bus stop where we're picked up in a car by 3 other marketers, then driven out of Cardiff for a 40 minute journey, and dropped off somewhere. Where? No idea, somewhere I've never been at any rate. Apparently, this is the territory Phil has to cover. And I have to follow him.

Remember when they said they didn't do cold calling? They don't. They do cold-knocking. My observation day was basically following a guy as he went door to door, trying to get complete strangers (in their own homes) to sign up to a different internet provider. I won't say which provider, but it rhymes with 'balk balk' (appropriately enough).

This was unpleasant for many reasons. I hate bothering people, I hate invading the privacy of others, I loathe the whole pressure sales thing, I hate the thought of having to talk about the merits of a major corporation as if I genuinely believe them, I resent wandering around unknown housing estates in winter in the freezing cold for 6 hours (I found out what we were doing and how long we'd spend there once we arrived, of course, they didn't think I needed to know beforehand so didn't have a coat). These were all negatives about the situation as I saw it.

However, this came to a head when, faced with a disabled man in his own home who claimed he hadn't heard of 'Balk balk', Phil says 'you must have, they sponsor the X Factor". Disabled man said he didn't watch that sort of thing. Phil told him he should because 'it's really good'. He then turned to me and said 'isn't it!', expecting confirmation.

As someone who has handled corpses for a living, I can say with certainty that there are many things I'm willing to do for money. Lying to the face of an innocent disabled man in his own home on behalf of Simon Cowell is not one of them. Poor disabled man jumped on this clear break in the ranks and pointed out that I didn't like it, so it must be no good. Phil responded by saying it's worth watching for the early rounds, where they show all the 'mental people' who can't sing, and it's a big laugh.

I'm not a sales expert myself, but even overlooking the major ethical concerns of that view, is bragging about how you like to mock the possibly-handicapped really a good way to win over a disabled person? Disabled person felt the same, and we were eventually ordered to leave his property. Rightly so.

At this point, Phil must have realised that my heart really wasn't in this job which I didn't have and was deceived into doing. He must have assumed it was because I felt it was beneath me (a fair assessment, I feel it's beneath anyone with a conscience). He decides to explain to me why it was a necessary task, through the medium of what he called 'the restaurant story'. Here is the genuine conversation that ensued.

PHIL: You know why everyone has to start at the bottom level, don't you?

ME: I can guess...

PHIL: It's because of the restaurant story.

ME: The restaurant story?

PHIL: OK, so, I own a restaurant.

ME: Really? OK... well done.

PHIL: No, in the story. I own a restaurant.

ME: Ah.

PHIL: I own a restaurant. It's really successful, it makes a million pounds a month.

ME: Wow. You ever think about franchising that out?

PHIL: No, it's just one restaurant, it makes millions.

ME: ...OK Heston, go on.

PHIL: SO, I make so much money, I realise I don't need to work there any more, I decide to go on holiday and hire a manager to run it for me, which is you. I give you the job of manager, how much do you think I'm paying you?

ME: Well, a first time manager, but in a high profit business, I'd guess £30,000 to start off with?

PHIL: No, £100,000!

ME: ...well, if you insist. I must be a good negotiator, yeah?

PHIL: Anyway, I go away on holiday, it's your first day. First thing, one of the kitchen staff comes in and says they can't find the washing powder. What do you do?

ME: Well, look for it I suppose. It'll probably be under the sink, or maybe in one of the stock rooms. Is it delivered in the middle of the day? I mean if it's first thing, we can't have got many dishes yet.

PHIL: ... no. See, thing is, you don't know. You haven't worked in the kitchens, so you don't know where things are.

ME: Well... if I'm managing the place I'd probably have a good look around before I start, I can't just turn up and wing it.

PHIL: Yeah, but, you don't know. And then people are coming in asking you where the washing powder is and the dishes are piling up. There's nothing you could do.

ME: Well, if I'm on £100,000 I'd send someone out to buy some. They could get two lots, I won't mind, I can afford it.

PHIL: No, you can't do that.

ME: Why not?

PHIL: Because you don't do that.

ME: Um...

PHIL: So then later on, a waiter comes in and says a customer has a complaint. What do you do?

ME: Depends, what's the complaint?

PHIL: No, it's just a complaint, it's not about anything.

ME: How can you have a complaint that isn't about something? I don't think you can logically have a generic complaint. Every complaint is about something.

PHIL: Well, this one isn't, what do you do?

ME: I have no idea, this isn't a logical problem.

PHIL: Thing is see, you can't do this job because you haven't done the job where you have to deal with complaints.

ME: Isn't that the manager's job?

PHIL: Yeah.

ME: But I am the manager, aren't I?

PHIL: Yeah.

ME: So I need to be the manager before I can be the manager?

PHIL: Exactly.

ME: Uh...

PHIL: So I come back from holiday and find you've not done the job properly. You've lost me £70,000, you're not experienced enough to be a manager.

ME: Well, I would have tried to tell you that in the interview...

PHIL: So anyway, I fire you, but you say you really need a job, so I agree to put you to work in the kitchens, and then you can work your way back up properly.

ME: So... I've gone from £100,000 manager to minimum wage pot washer in the space of a day?

PHIL: Yeah, because you didn't start at the bottom.

ME: But I have worked as kitchen staff before.

PHIL: Yeah, but not in this restaurant.

ME: So, everyone who's a manager in this restaurant used to wash dishes when they started.

PHIL: Exactly.

ME: So... how did it first start? You can't have a million pound restaurant staffed with just dishwashers.

PHIL: No, well, obviously I didn't start in the kitchens when I set it up.

ME: But you know where the washing powder is?

PHIL: Obviously, I'm the manager.

ME: ...

At this point, I decided that was enough for me, and said I wouldn't want to take the job even if it was offered to me. Phil, meaning well I think, offered to take me through the career path I could take. Turns out, if I did get the job, I would be able earn up to £150 a month! Until I hit my sales quota, at which point my monthly wage would increase by over 150%! Wooo! At one point he even used the dreaded C-word (commission)

Rather than wait until 9pm for the prearranged pick-up (prearranged without my involvement, of course), I decided to make my own way home. After walking randomly for 10 minutes, I remembered that I didn't have any idea where I was in relation to my home. So I had to take several busses, ask direction many times and make my way to the nearest train station, all while wandering in the freezing cold in my stylish but thin suit.

As I was sat on the train coming back, contemplating the wreckage of my potential career, realising that my tendency to apply rational thought and logic was not only off-putting to many people but actually made me less employable overall, and with no hint of opportunities in sight, that's when I finally came to a sudden realisation.

You don't use washing powder to wash dishes, you use washing up liquid! Who the hell uses washing powder to clean pots? This guy insists that he runs a million pound restaurant and he can tell the difference between powder and liquid? Maybe he is Heston Blumenthal?

"Here's the soup of the day, would you like a slice?"

Tit

email: humourology (at) live.co.uk

Twitter: @garwboy

My second application for a job as a Homeopath

A significantly higher than normal number of people appear to have read my previous application to be a homeopath. So thanks for that.

I was one of several scientists/skeptics who applied for the position, so competition is stiff. However, it appears that the potential employee, NHS Tayside, has tried to deal with this abundance of pseudo-applicants by effectively moving the goalposts, so to speak.

It appears that most, if not all of those who applied have been sent a hard-copy (known in the old days as 'paper', I believe) set of forms to apply for the position in response to our 'expression of interest in the position'. An understandable strategy, maybe? I don't think they can legally just throw applications in the bin, for all that they're blatantly cynical efforts to ridicule an institution for wasting ever decreasing public funds. This way, they allow all the 'applicants' to pursue their application further should they wish to do so, while (probably correctly) assuming that those just taking the piss won't have the time or inclination to go through all the forms.

And, quite tellingly, have removed the 'statement in support of application' section which provided the bulk of the mirth and scorn in the blogosphere

However, they underestimate how unemployed I am, and the fact that, unlike most skeptics, my background has given me extensive experience with pushing a joke to breaking point and beyond. So here, for your perusal, are the forms I have sent back to NHS Tayside.

(N.B. My handwriting is, undeniably, shocking. This is true of all doctors, we actually have to undergo an intense 3-month penmanship disruption course before we're even eligible to submit a thesis or sit a final exam)

They also requested 4 copies of my CV. Being a job vacancy for a homeopath, I realised that a comprehensive summary of my scientific credentials would, if anything, work against me. I have also filled in a number of job applications recently, so have received all the regular advice about CVs. The main recommendations is that they be eye-catching, concise, clear and memorable. As a result, my CV is rendered largely in cartoon form.

(N.B. As it turns out, my drawing skills are even worse than my handwriting. This may be due to the aforementioned handwriting disruption course, or my scientist's subconscious mind resisting any attempt I make to engage in a form of 'art'. You choose)

Also, they asked for a copy of my passport.

So there you go. If I hear anything back form them, I'll post it here asap

Dean

e-mail: Humourology@live.co.uk

twitter: @garwboy

Ah ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaa!

People! Hello! I've not written a blog for about 4 months, an in that time I've gained 25% more followers! It's gone up from 4 to 5!*
Been really hammering the write-up, so not felt justified about wasting time on here. And let's be honest, a waste of time is what it is. But given the weather (hot), my current state of mind (apathetic), my current career prospects (wavering between hopelessly futility and optimism borne of ignorance), my comedy career (like one of those flies trapped in Amber; potentially could be resuscitated, but for all intents and purposes, dead) and my creative output (analogous to the seepage emanating from a mouldy tomato), I thought I'd catch up on the old science digestive, starting off with a few alarming similes. So here's a few blogs for you all to enjoy, have fun (although given the way most of these are streamed or listed, you'll probably read this last, in which case I hope you enjoyed).

In Space, size isn't everything...

So they found a planet around a star that is surprisingly small. And I remember a time when finding any planet anywhere was an incredible thing. Now it looks like they've given up looking for basic planets around basic stars. Every time the discovery of a planet is reported now it has to have some extra detail, like an apparent closeness to Earth norm, or potential signs of life, or be really big (on a planetary scale of things), or really close (on a galactic scale, 20 light years will never seem close), or have rings, or be made of processed cheese, or whatever. Finding a planet isn't enough anymore, now it has to be an interesting planet. Planet searching seem to be going the way of the TV show Big Brother. At first, the concept alone was fascinating, the act of doing it was of interest in itself. Now, we need the freaks, the sensationalists, the utter barking maniacs, the attention seekers in other words, in order to keep people interested.
Still, I like the news that this tiny star (1/12th the size of our star, a.k.a The Sun) has a planet 6 times bigger than our suns biggest planet. The smaller the body, the bigger the appendage in other words. How true to life that is.
Also, if we do eventually discover life around another star, will we have to rename our sun? From 'the Sun' to 'A Sun', or 'Sol', 'Sun #1 (assuming it's older)', 'Shinyball alpha' or maybe 'Derek', give it some character.

(* = I know people might work tha out as a 20% increase, but 1 from 4, the original number, is 25%, so my math is accurate)

Unemployed at the crossroads of life (and other tortured metaphors)

Not got an article in mind, so this is just a link back to here

Not really been keeping abreast of news about Science at the moment, but a quick scan reveals that we really are melting the ice-caps, frogs in Yellowstone park aren't doing too well, India's launched a moon mission, they've found an old Hebrew book and a picture of leopard won a prize. But apparently, none of this is anywhere near as important as two 'comedians' joking about having sex with a woman. I'm not a huge Brand fan, I often thought his endless claims of sexual conquests quite boring, and people complain he doesn't respect women or something. But when he makes such claims and they turn out not to be true, there's a huge outcry, so what's he to do. I found the whole thing offensive, but only because it was a crap joke. These guys are the most highly paid comic personalities in the country, and the best they could do was an inversion on the hack 'I shagged your mum' heckle? Jesus wept.

The BBC news website, my main source of self-contained stories, recently changed their 'Science and Nature' section to 'Science and Environment', perhaps because of the ever increasing number of environment-based stories, or maybe it was just an attempt to seem more eco-aware. I don't know, but if I was cynical, seeing as all things in 'nature' occur in 'the environment', I would suggest that this renaming is a way of seeming more environmentally aware doing any bloody thing differently. Not that that's a bad thing.

I'm currently experiencing a persistent low-level anxiety which I've not encountered before, and I think it's caused by the paradoxical situation of being very busy while simultaneously unemployed. Depending on how you look at it, if I were to hand my thesis in tomorrow, it's either either a month overdue, 5 months ahead of schedule or 11 months early. Again, a lot of contradictions and variables which logically shouldn't exist simultaneously. But they do. So hey ho.

It's going slower than I planned, but it is going at all, which is better than I expected. Again, incompatible scenarios existing simultaneously. My whole life seems to be in some sort of quantum superposition in which all states exist simultaneously with each other until someone observes it, a la Schroedinger's cat. So what I'm saying is, if you ask me 'how's it going?', I might be revealed to have died several minutes ago. Which is why I seem tense when people ask about my progress. Nothing personal.

Look for work at this level is another new experience. I could feasibly accept a normal job, but having a PhD means I should be aiming for higher-up positions, such as post-doctorate positions or even lectureships. I haven't had to apply for these before, so am at a loss for how it's meant to go. I have applied for 4 different jobs already, none have replied thus far. Is that normal? I don't know. It's taken this long in the past, but for this kind of job? Would the complex nature prolong the interview process, or should the assumed intelligence level of those involved increase efficiency, which would mean I get a reply on the same day? God knows. But I haven't been offered anything yet, so maybe it's just me.

I've been feeling at a loss. I don't feel as involved with the Neuroscience squad because I have more outisde interests and probably don't dedicate myself to it as much as my peers. But then I don't feel as involved with my comedy colleagues as I'm the one who's doing a doctorate rather than getting gigs and networking. Although I recently did a gig at a Neuroscience conference. It went alarmingly well, probably the time I've been most 'in tune' with an audience, which should surprise no-one, although it does suggest I only do my best comedy in front of a crowd of Neuroscientists or similar, which does drastically lower my potential success in the wider world of comedy. Pah

I cleaned the house today, that mother of all procrastination tasks, after writing blogs that is. But it did need doing. Although I still finished with many hours put aside for a serious thesis writing session, which would have occurred if the last bit of data I need for my results section of the current chapter didn't require a brief means comparison in SPSS. For those of you unfamiliar with SPSS, it's the statistics package of choice for my department. And by 'choice', I mean it's the one we get given and that's that. SPSS is much like the NHS in a lot of ways. We're glad to have it, and it is useful, but sometimes it's so bloody chaotic or downright crap you'd rather just sneak a bottle of isofluorane and a few tools out of work and remove your own appendix. And as tortured metaphors go, that ones pretty much screaming for death and will confess to the Holocaust at this point. And there we go again, a tortured metaphor about tortured metaphors. Is that a record?

Anyway, I need to compare the means of two groups of results. I say the mean of one group is 57.68. SPSS keeps saying it's 68.71. I'm right, it's wrong, but it refuses to say otherwise. There's no reason for this ridiculous claim, apart form being pointlessly bloody minded. Is it possible to cause physical harm to software? 'I'm going to seriously corrupt your core programming' doesn't really have that much of a menacing ring to it.

Although I should refrain from saying stuff about a programme on my own PC. If it is being deliberately malicious, and I'm writing this on software right now, who knows what it could 68788 **&(£%$* - - - - - - _____________ [][]{}{[][}{[}{}{][][][][][Ld££££££££------...... . . . . . . .

Careering off course

There should be a link to a science news story here, but there isn't, it's just a clip from Rhys Darby's new DVD

Evening. Not done one of these for a while, but been busy. I'm now attempting to complete my thesis whilst simultaneously looking for a job I can do as soon as I complete my thesis but I can't really get a job yet as I haven't finished my thesis but the thesis is taking too long because I'm also looking for work.

Repeat as necessary. You see the quandary I'm in?

This is my first experience with job searching in the field of high level Science research. A lot of people have asked me which I'm going to pursue when I finish my PhD; Science or Comedy. I don't really see why I have to choose one and ignore the other, I haven't so far. But if I did, I really enjoy both, but which one pays better? I'll be honest, I've never seen a situation where desperate scientists have to drive hundreds of miles to conduct 20 minutes of research in front of a disinterested crowd of strangers in exchange for a fiver.
A lot of people I work with seem to have gravitated towards new jobs by some form of academic osmosis, and well done to them. I didn't think this would ever happen for me, for several reasons. Namely, although I enjoy and am interested in my research, I don't live and breathe it. And also I am still startlingly ignorant about how this industry works, unlike those who have a family history of higher education so know the correct procedures and conduct. My parents have always been supportive, but I'm the first person in my family to do A levels, let alone anything else. I guess I could have just asked people how things work, but then I was always worried about being exposed as the blatant fraud I am, so I kept my head down and people just assumed I knew what I was doing. But I'll show them!
Current wisdom is to do a post-doc, or post-doctoral position. Form what I can gather, this is where you do basically the same thing you did during your PhD, but you don't need to put it all in a big report after 3 years, and everyone just lets you get on with things rather than check up on you every few weeks to make sure you haven't snapped and run off to become a bricklayer, or been killed by a rat 'gone rogue' without anyone finding your partially shredded remains.
Traditional sources of career advancement aren't as useful as I remember. The Job centre used to be an option, but it focuses largely on converting the 'unemployed' to 'employed', anything beyond that is a bonus.
I did go to the careers centre for a 30 minute meeting about my options. The nice lady asked what I wanted, and I said ideally, I'd like a job that incorporates all my skills. She agreed that this was something I should definitely aim for. Then I told her all my skills., basically the Neuroscience and comedy. It's fun seeing a supposed expert genuinely at a loss for what to say. We agreed that I have created my own niche, but as I pointed out, a niche is only a niche if people know of it. What I've created is more of a blind spot, a phantom zone of career possibilities. If I'm being outrageously self-promotional, I could say I'm like the nuclear power of employees; potentially extremely useful, but if no-ones discovered it it's not worth a damn.
So I'm currently applying for post-docs in the Bristol area, with the hope of moving there some day. I've had to re-do my CV several times over, and it probably still could be improved. But if anyone knows of a neuroscience post-doc going in the South West or Wales, let me know.

And just to keep up to speed, here's a Science news round-up.

Mice Traced to Vikings: Studying the genomes of mice can be useful in studying human migration patterns. Because mice and humans so frequently travel together (unless you're in first class I assume), their genetic variation has been shaped by our movements in the past. Very interesting, although I'm suspicious of any research that involves mice, the most evil of all creatures. I honestly wouldn't put it past mice to change their DNA just to screw up our research. Horrible little bastards, all of them. Even this article had me excited, I thought it would suggest that mice ARE actually Vikings, after some evolutionary twist like the one that turned dinosaurs into birds. But no, an interesting if less exciting bit of news about species cohabitation reflecting migration patterns. Curse you, you scampery little furry balls of evil!

People don't like living next to a Nuclear plant: It turns out, that people might object to having a nuclear power plant built in their back yard. How much did they spend finding this out? I've been to a nuclear plant, it was quite cool (metaphorically, I'm sure the reactor was at temperatures normally found beneath the surface of your basic star) and a fascinating experience. i would go again. Would I live next to one? No. Nothing against nuclear power, but I don't like the thought of living next to any gigantic complex power plant, it's just ominous. And I'm well informed. But at least this story makes more sense than people objecting to sea based wind farms because 'it'll spoil the scenery'. Jesus wept, get a sense of perspective! Would these people object to life-saving brain surgery because it spoiled their hair?

Microsoft say Google is better: Microsoft says they are a 'David' to Google's 'Goliath'. As I'm currently writing this on a Microsoft PC with windows, like my laptop has, and as does every other computer I've ever used or even seen except for macs which don't count because I don't know that many pretentious people, I have to say I have limited sympathy for Microsoft. And I may have even supported them if they'd used the term 'Googliath'. I wonder if we'll see that term in some official capacity over the next few days?

CONSPIRACY! Keeping it going, here's another conspiracy theory.

McDonald's build secret global transit system!
Haven't you ever wondered why McDonald's burgers never look like the pictures over the counter? It's because all the burgers McDonald's sell (approx 45 million a day) are made at the very first McDonald's restaurant, in San Bernardino, California. The exact recipe of McDonald's burgers which makes them so addictive despite being crap is a very closely guarded secret, so the McDonald brothers decided never to let one be made off-site. Since then, every McDonald's franchise has been connected to the ever expanding kitchens underneath San Bernardino via a system of high-speed pneumatic tubes. There are no actual fryers or ovens outside of the main restaurant, just tube terminals cleverly disguised. These tubes now stretch all over the world. However, the 'fast food' commitment means burgers have to travel at supersonic speeds to get to the correct restaurant in time. This is why American McDonald's seem so much better, and British ones are squashed and crap; it's because the British ones have just crossed the Atlantic in less than 3 minutes, and the pressures incurred squash them until they look as pathetic as they do, whereas American burgers have a much shorter journey time.
The secret sauce is made from the processed remains of employees who risk giving away the great secret.

A Day in the life of... me.

Thought I'd go a bit personal for once, and tell you a bit about myself and what I'm doing at the moment. What's it like being the UK's only Stand-Up comedy Neuroscientist trying to write a thesis that summarises 3 years of his life? Well, it's hard to describe. But here's a run down of a typical day in my life at present. It's happening now, so it's technically news, and its got science in it, so the integrity of the Blog is maintained.

• 7.30 am - Alarm goes off.
  
• 7.50 am - Alarm goes off for 3rd time. I take the hint and get out of bed.
• 8.13 am- Wander round flat in mild daze. Turn on PC with important thesis documents. Remember that I've already turned on laptop for similar reason. Turn off laptop, as that allows me to write on bed or comfy chair, which doesn't count as work.
• 8.15 am - Boil Kettle. Eat fancy fruit and oat based breakfast my wife made the previous night and left in the fridge.
• 8.27 am - Try to decide whether or not to go into work or stay home, as I'll be doing the same thing either way, the only difference is staying home means I can work in my pants.
• 8.28 am - Check weather. Rain. Decide to stay home, taking advantage of the situation where this is an option, which may never occur again.
• 8.57 am - Realise that writing a thesis in my pants just feels wrong. Decide to go for shower.
• 9.04 am - Shower suddenly turns freezing cold due to problem with temperature gauge. Stand shivering for several minutes.
• 9.15 am - get dressed and boil kettle, realising I had done so an hour ago then forgot. Curse myself for wasting energy.
• 9.17 am - Sit down to start a proper session of thesis writing.
• 9.34 am - Finish solitaire game, really decide to start work.
• 9.50 am - Nothing in email inbox or any messages on Social network sites. work can begin.
• 10.04 am - Three paragraphs done. Time for a break.
• 10.15am - Re-read previous paragraphs, delete two as they are meaningless.
• 11.45am - Three paragraphs done again, pretty much the same as before but with words rearranged a bit.
  
• 12.05pm - Insert Bar graph
• 12.12pm - Realise Bar Graph is wrong, remove and start again.
• 1.23pm - Finally find relevant Excel document, re-do bar graph.
• 1.35 pm - Realise that the changes to the graph mean the results come out differently, the result is now significant rather than non-significant. This necessitates a complete reworking of the previous two sections. Cry for a bit.
• 2.00 pm - Funny gurgling sound. Stomach. Lunch.
• 2.30 pm - Realise my Blog hasn't been updated for over 24 hours. Feel guilty about not doing thesis, but convince myself writing about Science is still work. Check BBC website for interesting Science news. Main story is something about snails. Decide this is too boring, decide to write about myself instead.
• 2.36 pm - Realise that writing about myself is more boring than snails. Console myself with the fact that nobody will see it, probably.
• 2.45 pm - Back to thesis.
• 2.55 pm - Realise that the altered results demonstrate an exploratory strategy that could be based on awareness of simultaneous changes of spatial and temporal contexts rather than one integrated spatiotemporal context, which still suggests a system dependant on configural learning strategies. Do a little dance in awe of my brilliance.
• 3.05 pm - Realise that this result means my original hypothesis is actually wrong. Confidence ebbs again,
• 3.55 pm - Type " 'Jobs for PhD Neuroscientists' + Comedian " into Google: No hits. Fear creeps in.
• 4.23 pm - Check overall progress. 2 more pages in 6 hours. Oddly pleased by this.
• 4.56 pm - Change the font of the entire thesis. It is now 4 pages longer. This counts as progress.
• 5.03 pm - Guilt proves too much, change font back. Think about making dinner.
• 6.02 pm - Staring blankly at screen proves too much, headache builds. Go to kitchen. Make dinner based on usual strategy of combining ingredients found in fridge/freezer/cupboard.
  
• 6.40 pm - Wife returns home after 8 hours working and 2 hour commute on train. Guilt increases.
  
• 7.30 pm - Finish dinner. Return to thesis, newly motivated, and churn out 5 pages in less than an hour.
• 8.30 pm - Re-read previous text. All gibberish. Spend another hour re-wording it.
• 9.45 pm - Finally feel like I'm making genuine progress. Someone sends me email asking about gigs. Spend another hour in online conversation concerning this.
• 10.50 pm - Feeling productive and tired. Churn out another 5 pages of meaninglessness which will have to be fixed when I start again tomorrow.
  
• 11.10 pm - Bed.
• 12.40 am - Fall asleep after spending the last 90 minutes thinking about the significant effect of spatiotemporal manipulations on hippocampal damaged subjects and worrying about what the hell I'm doing with my life.

And that's how we write a thesis.