There's no avoiding it. The interview was booked. On the one hand the company offices were only thirty minutes walk away. On the other, there was no footpath all the way there. Luckily the weather had brightened since the morning, when it threatened once or twice to rain, and I made my way in pleasant if blustery conditions along the towpaths and grass verges to the isolated business park.

Once in the area, it seemed as if the whole park was deserted. No-one else was around. Nothing stirred, apart from a few flags at a car dealership. Oh sure there were cars left here and there in the parking spaces provided, but even they were mostly empty. Finally I arrived at the premises. A woman was smoking in a designated area nearby and she hid herself as I approached. No-one else was around. Nothing stirred. Odd. No matter. I got them to open the doors and discovered the reception was empty. No-ne else was around. Nothing stirred. Even odder.

Eventually a woman passed to and fro. I asked if this was indeed the reception area. You never know, I might be hopelessly lost in some strange alternate time and space. Happens in Star Trek all the time. She confirmed that I was standing in the reception area before she scuttled off in case she made the place look lived in.

Eventually a manager emerged from the stygian gloom behind the inner doors and led me to my interrogation. I hadn't realised how long it's been since I had a proper face to face interview. Most of the time I get asked questions over the telephone. Earlier yesterday I turned up for a mandatory interview at the programme centre and was told "Fill in this form and you can go."

Jobseeking can be a lonely life. But at least I'm not rioting about it.

Down With... Whatever...

The scenes of devastation in our country's capital are astonishing. Unbelievable. But there it is, on prime time news, helicopter shots of burning buildings and street battles raging. We brits aren't used to this level of violence. Apart from the professional agitators who enjoy this sort of thing as a jolly weekend wheeze, the disaffected youths responsible are said to be moaning because they've got nothing to do.

Is that supposed to be an excuse for rioting? Okay, if they've got nothing to do, get all these hooligans to sweep away the damage and replace everything they destroyed. That should keep them busy. My guess is they wouldn't be happy in that occupation. Nor would they be happy with anything else society provides for them to do.

So how do you solve this problem? Well, I did a few weeks of a sociology course at school, so I'm probably not that much more clued up than anyone else, but it seems to me that the only productive course of action is to get rid of teenagers. I don't mean death squads roaming city streets like some countries do, but stop all this rubbish about street culture. Pull these overgrown children back into the ranks of society, because we're nurturing an alernative state within our own that seeks to rid itself of the law it despises and create an urban society with its own rules, based on the pecking order of thugs and criminals.

Now - Some might say that makes me a hypocrite, seeing as I speak for non-conformism. Wait a moment. I might be criticised, mocked, and insulted for being different, but the reason I 'get away with it' is because I don't fight society. I obey the rules as much as anyone else. I wonder if those people defying the rules are really expecting to get everything they want? I certainly hope they get what they deserve.

Do You See What I See?

Last night I watched Horizon, a science documentary series that covers all kind of subjects. This one was about whether a person sees the same way as another. Is a colour you recognise exactly the same as that perceived by the next person?

An illusionist tells us that colour isn't there. There is no intrinsic quality of light that actually is colour, it's our brain that uses 'colour' to recognise different wavelengths of light. We learn to recognise colour as infants. We also learn to categorise it. We learn what to call those categories. It's possible, as demonstrated by experiments with an african tribe, that if we learn to associate language with colour differently, so our colour perception developes differently. Our ability to see colour is linked to our ability to describe it.

Fascinating stuff. No wonder I can't convince the police my car was stolen. They just can't see it.

Hunters On The Prowl

There was I wondering where the Society of Jesus had gotten to. Spotted a couple of them in the library the other day plotting world conversion. I guess it must be the heathen hunting season. Poor lads. All they want for christmas is to be raptured. It isn't a lot to ask is it? Vanishing in an instant leaving behind all material goods like clothes and namebadges as they enter the Great Nudist Colony In The Sky. Don't worry. I got away unscathed. With all my clothes intact.