December 2007 Archives

The True Story of Dick Whittington and his Cat

ONCE UPON A TIME in the olden days, a poor orphan boy named Dick Whittington lived in a tiny village with his only friend, a cat named Frank. Dick Whittington, with no mother and no father, had no money. He was often so cold that he had to wear a coat made of leaves, and he was often so hungry that he had to chew on some rope or an old mattress or whatever he found lying around...

Download the whole excitingish adventure... (pdf)

Like most bells, the bell inside Big Ben doesn't have a name. That would be stupid. However, for the purposes of the daily royalty cheque it receives from ITV for supplying its famous 'bongs' to News at Ten, it's known as 'Mr. Bellamy'.

Fiscal millipedes (Diplopodus voraxa)
These unusual insects live among the computery chaos of the trading floor of the Stock Exchange, feeding on the testosterone-rich sweat of the traders. While she was prime minister, Margaret Thatcher kept a fiscal millipede in the Cabinet Office as a sort of mascot.

Number of legs: Fluctuates according to the strength of the pound.

Appearance: Like a normal millipede, but pinstriped, with a greedy face.

Habitat: The Stock Exchange, Moss Bross.

Diet: Sweat, champagne.

Social grouping: There is no such thing as fiscal millipede society.

Reproduction: Fiscal millipedes lay their tiny eggs on the underside of a fifty-pound note.

Relationship with man: Because fiscal millipedes thrive on the testosterone of the traders, economists who carefully study their health and population numbers can track the buoyancy of the financial market. For example, numerous, fat millipedes mean a lot of testosterone and the frenzy of a bull market, whereas fewer, skinnier millipedes mean less testosterone and a more cautious bear market. Of course, economists can more easily track the financial market by just reading the papers, but they like to study the fiscal millipedes because when you pick them up their little legs make a pleasant tickling sensation on the fingers.

Useful byproducts: Instructive metaphors about the evils of unchecked capitalism.

Threats: Eurocrats, the BBC.

London Underground's tube trains are among the most advanced modes of transport in the world and are very difficult to control - which is why all tube train drivers are secretly recruited from the ranks of the world's very best jet fighter test pilots. When a test pilot shows exceptional daring and promise - perhaps by flying upside-down through Wookey Hole, or doing a 'cloud skid' with no hands - they receive a secret telegram from London Underground inviting them to study at the mysterious tube train driving academy situated 25 miles below the capital's crust. If they accept, their death will be faked in an air show crash and they'll begin their gruelling nine-year studies. The subterranean students don't even get to sit in a tube train cab until they've spent a full four years examining the aerodynamic properties of earthworms, mole rats and badgers.

Here is a diagram of a tube train control panel, which a tube train driver has to be able to use with his or her eyes closed, even under 30 atmospheres of pressure: