I finally achieved the impossible today. The bins were cleaned up and emptied of incorrectly placed stock.

It's a funny thing really. How do we measure the importance of achievement? In the grand scale of things, what I did today is small potato's. Okay, the boss is pleased, and that might affect my chances of getting a full time job, thus add to my properity and reputation, but in real terms the event doesn't interest anyone else and has probably been forgotten already.

What about saving a persons life? We might stress the dramatic situations, risking life and limb to help another person, but without influential witnesses who would remember (other than the person saved, who generally feels grateful for the act of courage required to keep them from harm)?

That's the trick. Any event in human culture only becomes important if the scale of its significance impinges on the media or generates enough rumour. What is the difference between stopping an old person stepping in front of a moving bus, or taking a bullet for Mr President?

Well, I've blown my own trumpet, and maybe a few dozen people around the world have even registered my version of heroic stock maintenance. I must admit, I didn't hear any bullets whizzing past, so this once I'll settle for being the stock assistant time forgot.

Bazza!

I bumped into my old mate Bazza in town this afternoon. He's quite a character. He's also getting on in years and once again I prodded him to write that book he always should have done. You see, old Bazz is something of an expert on the American Civil War - he's even given lectures in the US on the subject. There are people who can tell which unit fought at which point at Gettysburg. Bazza can tell you who the commander was, what he had for breakfast, the name of the dog he fed the scraps to, and who stepped in the pooh afterward. He's an incredible bloke.

He's had his share of ups and downs as much as anyone else in this decadus terriblis just gone, but I'm glad to see he's still kicking and in good health. Go on, Bazz. Tell the world what you know. Like you told me every time I carelessly thought to mention any fact on the subject...

Confessions of a Bomb Maker

Saw a documentary about afghanistan insurgents, with a camera crew following a team of those guys around. Strange stuff. You can't doubt their idealistic motivations, though calling Americans 'crusaders' is stretching things a bit. It does kind of illustrate the impact the medieval world made in the Middle East, if it isn't just a modern reinvention of the genre for propaganda purposes.

What amused me, if you'll forgive me, was the young afghan expert telling us how technical bombs were and that his creations were too clever for the British and American soldiers to defuse. "It goes over their heads" he said. Funnily enough, his mobile phone activated device failed to explode when a US column drove past on a highway unaware of the danger they were in.

I guess though the fun stops when these things actually work.

Researcher of the Week

This goes to the african guy I saw sat at a library table on the way in today, studying a glossy picture of an AK47 (with wide angle telescopic sights attached) and nodding thoughtfully. I used to think it was just white teenagers who got off on stuff like that. I wonder where this bloke will end up? Dead in some foreign country with NATO munitions embedded in him? Or locked up in some jail somewhere? Or maybe just reading the same old book over and over?