random thoughts to oil the mind

Author: Fips Page 63 of 66

The only current author of this personal blog.

Forest of Dennis

A forest. Not Dennis’

A programme on the beeb yesterday dealing with Britain’s economy, entitled What’s Britain Worth? and hosted by Peter Snow and his son, featured a short interview with one of the nation’s wealthiest men, Felix Dennis. Aside from the rather astute observation he made about the wealthiest members of society (“They’re all shits!”), Dennis talked about the creation of his legacy, the self-named “Forest of Dennis”.

Dennis’ plan is to create a 25-30,000 acre broadleaf forest in the British Midlands. Buying up land, often under aliases, he estimates the project to cost in the region of £200-300 million of his private estate, plus an equal amount in donations over a period of years through a charitable foundation. Said to be the largest forest plantation in 500 years, as Dennis stated his reason for going ahead with this project beyond the simple ego-trip, is that in his happy financial position he is able to put capital behind an initiative like this which neither private finance nor government is prepared to do, and yet his gift to the community is something many can appreciate and all will benefit from ((If we take as gospel some basic assumptions about carbon trapping in reforestation, and the effects of CO2 on the climate. Whether the planting of forests can be seen as sustainable (it is only the outsourcing of agriculture which allows such reforestation initiatives) is yet to be seen)).

As one of those “shits” of the upper echelons then, it might well be regarded that Dennis’ project is the result of an ego-trip from a man with no offspring or family to leave his millions to. Some cynics might even suggest it is an attempt to atone for his previous excesses of drugs, alcohol and women. And both might be true. But in the end this wayward form of philanthropy can do little harm and might do a fair bit of good. As for the forest’s name, as Dennis himself says, the forest will be known by what the people who walk there call it. Or perhaps it will stick, like an early 21st century Saltaire?

Hogmanay 2006-7

That seasonal reminder that time waits for no one and you’re only growing older has been again. At least this year was a little different. The family left early to plan their various parties and nights out, leaving me to think up some bold plans for enjoying the evening, when the winds whipping in over the Irish Sea knocked out the electricity in the region just before sun down. And there’s no better time to find out that the stove in the lounge really was only installed for ornamental purposes than on a cold, blustery evening.

Still, there is something vaguely romantic about being wrapped up indoors, reading by candlelight whilst the ill-designed stove pours smoke into the room, and this by 5pm. And the power did come on by midnight, allowing us to enjoy that beautifully crafted comedy Still Game, and watch £1 million explode over London to herald Ne’erday 2007. Nothing wrong with being reminded every once in a while how utterly reliant we are on electricity for our every day existence.

Casino Royale: Back to basics?

Casino Royale

So they’re silly. So they’ve been going since the ’60s. So this is the twenty-first (official) outting of the sixth incarnation of a spy who has survived promotion, demotion and the Cold War. It’s a Bond film, and one purporting to go ‘back to basics’ with a new face and a general overhaul for the series. As one of those heretics who preferred the slightly heightened realism of the Timothy Dalton era, this film showed plenty of promise with a conspicuous absence gadgets, a somewhere near realistic plot, and nary a nuclear device in sight.

It’s been compared to the series reboot that Batman Begins provided, and for all its grittiness and mortality of the main character, has been lauded by the critics, whilst simultaneously pleasing fans for remaining true to the Bond brand. Daniel Craig proved to be a controversial choice, but from his experience behind the lines in Archangel and some technical bomb-making expertise in Munich, he came well prepared to play the UK’s most dangerous export.

Warning, possible spoilers after the break!

Ireland Avoids the Burdens of Public Transport

This weekend a radio talk show in Ireland was lamenting the state of the Irish road network, in particular focusing on the state of her road signs. Anyone that has driven through the country will understand how this seemingly trivial matter could be focus for an entire discussion. The cause of the problem was perceived to be the decentralised system of transport regulation, the result being a wide disparity between different parts of the country, and a generally poor system compared to European standards. The show received numerous SMS messages and emails highlighting more extreme examples, from road signs incorrectly directing traffic, through long stretches of road with nary a road-sign or indication of turnings, to the example of sections of road with conflicting speed limits, no doubt compounded by some complications in the changeover from miles to kilometres per hour.

Yet what was only mentioned in passing was that government initiatives to improve the transport network in the country can only be spent once, and ultimately further improvements to the road network must necessarily mean public transport receives less funding. One of the interesting statistics cited was that in Dublin, the only large urban centre, around 70% of commuters travel to work by private transport. Although unduly unfair, for the sake of comparison just consider the figures for the centre of London, which show the figure to be as low as 10%. Is Ireland’s public transport system underperforming?

Investment Opportunity

Although its development has been in no small part prompted by the awful rampancy of HIV in Africa, the product exhibited in this cheeky little advert could soon be found on sale in chemists worldwide if the makers get the right offers. If this company floats, you know where to put your boats.

And for you smart cookies out there, that’s right, Jacob is meant to represent a certain Mr Zuma.

Page 63 of 66

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