I saw a news report that whilst digging the new foundations at Ground Zero in New York, a 17th or 18th century scrapyard has been found. The remains of a scrapped sailing vessel was lying under the World Trade Centre all that time. What a wonderful twist to the tragedy of 9/11. Still, it does call into question the wisdom of all those rubbish recyclement policies we Brits are wrestling with right now. Our historical record is being reduced along with landfill sites. Combine that with the transitory nature of the internet as a container of information, it means that at some future time, archaeologists will dig down and find the early twenty first century is missing from the record. We're living in a new Dark Age.

So everyone, throw your rubbish on the tip where archaeologists will find it in three hundred years time. And not next door to me, please.

Lions And Tigers

Big cats are fascinating animals. We admire them for all sorts of reasons, not least their very real danger. I recall that video footage of a tiger attacking the riders of an elephant, or the policeman suspended outside a New York apartment block trying to tranquilise an angry tiger , or the close but harmless encounter I had with a bored lionness at Windsor Safari Park one time, or even as a child, transfixed by the latent aggression in a female black panther staring back at me as she tended to her cubs. All those anecdotes I've covered already.

I was watching a program about a wildlife park in New Zealand, dealing primarily with big xats. The measure of control they have over them is suprising. I can't honestly claim the cats are docile - nature will out - but the keepers certainly do have some skill at keeping them in order. But the funniest moment was when they took some of tese cats for an exercise session down on the beach. They looked suspiciously at the surf flowing up the sand and backed off in alarm at something they didn't understand. Cute.

It seems odd at first that a big cat would be fearful. You have to wonder what little they have to be fightened of. Then again, for all their power and ferocity, big cats aren't usually the biggest animals in the park. I have been told that lions in the know will always run off when a Masai warrior whistles - because that's the call they make for help. I recall Steve Irwin creeping through the tall grass toward a lionness resting under the shade of a tree. She realised something was stalking her, becoming nervous, hesitating as to whether she should stand her ground or run - and run away she did, bolting into the grass behind her to keep a safe distance from some australian nutcase intent on filming a close encounter. You have to admire the late Mr Irwin. Getting close to a lion you don't know is going to be friendly is, as I can attest to personally, a somewhat unnerving experience.

Title of the Week

What is the point of having a policy of supporting cultural diversity and respect for customers if the employees don't have any intention of observing it? My long running struggle with the Job Centre to have them recognise my lordshipness reached what I thought was a breakthrough this last week. The claims advisor politely and without bother filled in a change of circumstance form and had me sign it. Sigh of relief. At last! Except it didn't quite work out the way I hoped. The Job Centre aren't the most intellectually blessed people in Britain - they still haven't cottoned on that as a social minority of one, any employer who dismisses my applications because of my title is running the risk of charges of discrimination in the workplace - but do you know what my title is now listed as by Swindon Job Centre? Mister Lord Caldrail.