<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
    <title>Stupid London</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/" />
    <link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/atom.xml" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007-10-13://2</id>
    <updated>2007-12-16T22:34:24Z</updated>
    
    <generator uri="http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/">Movable Type Publishing Platform 4.0</generator>

<entry>
    <title>A Stupid London Christmas Special</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/12/a-stupid-london-christmas-spec.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.78</id>

    <published>2007-12-16T22:38:28Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-16T22:34:24Z</updated>

    <summary>The True Story of Dick Whittington and his CatONCE 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...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="whittington" label="whittington" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<b><font style="font-size: 1.25em;">The True Story of Dick Whittington and his Cat<br /></font></b><br /><i>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...</i><b><br /><a href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/idairy/stupiddick.pdf"><br />Download the whole excitingish adventure... (pdf)</a></b><br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="257.JPG" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/257.JPG" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="217" width="320" /></span>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Did you know? #6</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/12/did-you-know-6.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.75</id>

    <published>2007-12-11T23:40:49Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-11T23:39:47Z</updated>

    <summary>Like most bells, the bell inside Big Ben doesn&apos;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 &apos;bongs&apos; to News at Ten, it&apos;s known...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="did you know" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="bigben" label="big ben" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="bong" label="bong" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<b>Like most bells, </b>the bell inside Big Ben <b>doesn't have</b> a name. That would be stupid. However, for the purposes of <b>the daily royalty cheque</b> it receives from ITV for supplying its famous 'bongs' to <i>News at Ten</i>, it's known as 'Mr. Bellamy'.<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="bellamy.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/bellamy.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="198" width="415" /></span><br /> <div><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London&apos;s Fauna #3</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/12/londons-fauna-3.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.71</id>

    <published>2007-12-06T22:45:07Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-06T22:44:26Z</updated>

    <summary>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...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="fauna" label="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<font style="font-size: 1.25em;"><b>Fiscal millipedes</b><i> (Diplopodus voraxa)</i></font><br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="fiscalmilli.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/fiscalmilli.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="160" width="264" /></span>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.<br /><br /><b>Number of legs:</b> Fluctuates according to the strength of the pound.<br /><br /><b>Appearance:</b> Like a normal millipede, but pinstriped, with a greedy face.<br /><br /><b>Habitat:</b> The Stock Exchange, Moss Bross.<br /><br /><b>Diet:</b> Sweat, champagne.<br /><br /><b>Social grouping:</b> There is no such thing as fiscal millipede society.<br /><br /><b>Reproduction:</b> Fiscal millipedes lay their tiny eggs on the underside of a fifty-pound note.<br /><br /><b>Relationship with man:</b> 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.<br /><br /><b>Useful byproducts:</b> Instructive metaphors about the evils of unchecked capitalism.<br /><br /><b>Threats: </b>Eurocrats, the BBC.<br /> <div><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>How to drive a tube train</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/12/how-to-drive-a-tube-train.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.72</id>

    <published>2007-12-04T22:55:11Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-04T22:52:04Z</updated>

    <summary>London Underground&apos;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&apos;s very best...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="tube" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="cockpit" label="cockpit" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="tube" label="tube" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[London Underground's tube trains are among <b>the most advanced </b>modes of transport in the world and are very difficult to control - which is why all tube train drivers are <b>secretly recruited</b> 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 <b>through Wookey Hole</b>, or doing a 'cloud skid' with no hands - they receive <b>a secret telegram</b> from London Underground inviting them to study at the mysterious tube train driving academy situated <b>25 miles below</b> the capital's crust. If they accept, their death will be faked in <b>an air show crash</b> and they'll begin their gruelling nine-year studies. The subterranean students <b>don't even</b> get to sit in a tube train cab until they've spent <b>a full four years</b> examining the aerodynamic properties of earthworms, mole rats and badgers.<br /><br />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 <b>30 atmospheres of pressure</b>:<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="tubepit.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/tubepit.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="260" width="363" /></span><br /> <div><font style="font-size: 0.8em;"><b>Key</b><br />a. Driver's chair (stuffed with real horse hair)<br />b. Co-driver's chair (stuffed with fake horse guts)<br />c. Control wand (operates in nine dimensions)<br />d. Co-driver's back-up control wand (operates in emergency dimension only)<br />e. Anchor release<br />f. Displays soothing, meaningless numbers<br />g. Displays dreams of sleeping passengers<br />h. Ashtray (no teabags allowed)<br />i. Quarrantine switches (deploy emergency inter-carriage decoupling charges)<br />j. Rubidium crystal stasis monitor<br />k. Tic-Tac-Toe display<br />l. ATM (anti-tube-mice) missile controls<br />m. Roof electrification controls (to dislodge ninjas)<br />n. Windscreen (ultra-clear iced cellophane)<br />o. Money spider alert indicator (running over a money spider is dishonourable)<br />p. Horn (subsonic use only)<br />q. Anti-troll spray<br />r. Fuzzbox<br />s. Bakerloo hooter<br />t. Drill deploy (for shortcuts)<br />u. Reading lamp<br />v. Lucky button<br />w. Tissue dispenser<br />x. Cyanide pills<br />y. Anti-avalanche umbrella<br />z. Holographic sextant</font><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The ten least popular creatures of the Tower of London Menagerie</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/the-ten-least-popular-creature.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.67</id>

    <published>2007-11-29T19:50:43Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-29T19:50:17Z</updated>

    <summary>The Tower of London has held a menagerie since the thirteenth century. It was a place where magnificent tigers, elephants and even polar bears cavorted for the pleasure of kings and queens. However, 800 years is a long time and...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="fauna" label="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="menagerie" label="menagerie" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="royal" label="royal" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="toweroflondon" label="tower of london" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[The Tower of London has held a menagerie since the thirteenth century. It was a place where magnificent tigers, elephants and <b>even polar bears</b> cavorted for the pleasure of kings and queens. However, 800 years is <b>a long time</b> and the Beefeaters have not always managed to keep up such an impressive roster of animals. Here are the beasts that most disappointed the Royal crowds:<br /><br /><b>1. </b>A parrot shouting 'Vive la France!'<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="tower.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/tower.jpg" class="mt-image-right" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 20px 20px; float: right;" height="214" width="299" /></span><b>2.</b> A spider with six legs*<br /><b>3.</b> A moody little monkey<br /><b>4.</b> A fried egg in a nest<br /><b>5.</b> A pig's head on a pole**<br /><b>6.</b> A fairly hungry caterpillar<br /><b>7.</b> Richard Nixon<br /><b>8.</b> A goat chewing a Beefeater's sock<br /><b>9.</b> A shepherd's pie<br /><b>10. </b>Fred Bassett<br /><br /><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">*Historians now think this was probably just an ant<br />** After five years of bad reviews, the Beefeaters augmented this menagerie inmate by making it 'wink' every so often, via a simple contraption made out of fishing line. The new winking pig's head on a pole became one of the Tower of London's greatest attractions, drawing hundreds of thousands of visitors each year. Even Queen Victoria came to see it in 1859, although sadly she took offence at the pig's head 'getting fresh' and slapped it. The winking mechanism was irreprably destroyed.</font><br /><br /><div align="right"><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">(Photo: Tony Goulding, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)</font><br /></div><br /> <div><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London in statistics #4</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/london-in-statistics-4.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.66</id>

    <published>2007-11-27T20:50:56Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-27T20:49:48Z</updated>

    <summary>If they were laid out end to end, all the dildos from all the sex shops in Soho would form a vibrating plastic line stretching along The Mall from Admiralty Arch to the gates of Buckingham Palace - a distance...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="statistics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="dildo" label="dildo" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="mall" label="mall" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="royal" label="royal" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="sextoy" label="sex toy" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="wedding" label="wedding" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[If they were laid out end to end, all the dildos from all the sex shops in Soho would form a vibrating plastic line stretching along The Mall from Admiralty Arch to the gates of Buckingham Palace - a distance of <b>1094 yards</b>.<br /><br />Laying dildos end to end along The Mall is technically treason, as Roy Castle found to his cost whilst filming a <i>Record Breakers </i>Christmas special in 1985.<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="malltoys.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/malltoys.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="373" width="387" /></span><br /> <div><font style="font-size: 0.8em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><b>Ceremonial Royal sex toys on parade at Princess Anne's wedding in 1973 - three years before the incident that led to their banishment from the realm.</b><br /><br />(Source images: Michael Wilson, Alan Connor, Prometeo Rodríguez Lucero, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)<br /></font></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Did you know? #5</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/did-you-know.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.64</id>

    <published>2007-11-22T22:50:57Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-09T22:52:29Z</updated>

    <summary>The &apos;fancy restaurant&apos; to which Prince refers in &apos;Nothing Compares 2 U&apos;, the hit he wrote for Sinead O&apos;Connor, is this Angus Steakhouse on Shaftesbury Avenue.&apos;I can eat whatever I choose.&apos;...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="did you know" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="fancyrestaurant" label="fancy restaurant" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="prince" label="prince" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="steak" label="steak" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="nothingcompares2steak.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/nothingcompares2steak.jpg" class="mt-image-right" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 20px 20px; float: right;" height="99" width="284" /></span>The 'fancy restaurant' <b>to which Prince refers</b> in 'Nothing Compares 2 U', the hit he wrote for Sinead O'Connor, is this Angus Steakhouse on Shaftesbury Avenue.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="right"><b><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">'I can eat whatever I choose.'</font></b><br /></div> ]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The London Whale</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/the-london-whale.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.63</id>

    <published>2007-11-19T20:20:29Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-19T20:18:40Z</updated>

    <summary>Early in the morning of 20 January 2006, a commuter made an unusual call to the emergency services. Hesitantly, he said he wasn&apos;t sure if he was hallucinating, but he thought he&apos;d seen a whale in the Thames, just by...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="history" label="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="whale" label="whale" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[Early in the morning of 20 January 2006, a commuter made <b>an unusual
call </b>to the emergency services. Hesitantly, he said he <b>wasn't sure</b> if
he was hallucinating, but he thought he'd seen a whale <b>in the Thames</b>,
just by Canary Wharf. He wasn't hallucinating. At 8:17 am, the
authorities confirmed there <b>was indeed </b>a whale in the river - the first
cetacean in the capital since Dalston Whale Pond was <b>drained</b> in 1973.<br />
<br />
Sightings followed throughout the day. By nine o'clock, the whale <b>was
approaching</b> the Millennium Bridge. By ten, it had come ashore and was
seen <b>flopping down the escalators</b> at Charing Cross tube station. An
hour later, it was spotted enjoying elevenses at <b>a smart café</b> on the
King's Road, and by noon it had <b>joined the queue</b> for Madame Tussauds.<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="wolfenstein.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/wolfenstein.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="430" width="463" /></span><br />
 <div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><font style="font-size: 0.8em;"><b>The London whale breaches outside Selfridges on Oxford Street</b></font><br /><br />The whale caused a sensation. Londonders abandoned their desks to <b>get a glimpse</b> of the vast marine mammal, checking rolling news reports and using mobile phones to find out where it had last been spotted. There was something of a scramble<b> in the media</b> to name the whale. ITN and Sky both came up with 'Whalo', the BBC went for 'Mr Whale', but it was the <i>Evening Standard</i>'s headline, '<b>WOLFENSTEIN THE WHALE</b>', that stuck in the public imagination.<br /><br />Whale experts were concerned that the whale might become stressed in London, what with <b>the crowds</b> and dry conditions. Volunteers bravely approached Wolfenstein - an adult male more than forty feet in length - in an attempt to shoo him back <b>toward deep water</b>, or indeed any water at all. But the whale, now <b>sporting a novelty policeman's helmet</b>, seemed determined to continue sightseeting, and went on to visit the National Gallery and the British Museum, before becoming <b>wedged</b> in the turnstile of the London Dungeon. <br /><br />Marine biologists tried to keep the beast alive, ladling water over <b>his scaly skin</b> and feeding him plankton flakes while a big crane was fetched, but to no avail. Late that afternoon, Wolfenstein slipped away, his <b>last poignant moments</b> captured by a Sky newscopter, his giant tongue still <b>reflexively lapping</b> at the Cornetto he had bought on the South Bank. By dusk, the Royal Navy were <b>on the scene</b> with an impromptu body bag made from a submarine cosy. A city mourned. <br /><br />But never fear, the London Whale <b>lives on</b>: Wolfenstein's laminated skeleton now serves as a charming children's climbing frame in Regent's Park.<br /><br /><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">(Source images: Julian Robinson, Edgley César, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)</font><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London&apos;s Best-Kept Secrets: The National Cereal Mascot Portrait Gallery, Gloucester Road</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/londons-bestkept-secrets-the-n.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.57</id>

    <published>2007-11-15T22:00:07Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-15T22:06:18Z</updated>

    <summary>Housed in the vitamin-enriched majesty of a former Victorian oat-puffing plant, this gallery holds the largest collection of paintings, sculptures and photographs of cereal mascots in the world - including the controversial Lucian Freud portrait of a neckerchief-less Tony the...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="secrets" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="cereal" label="cereal" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="emin" label="emin" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="kensington" label="kensington" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="knickers" label="knickers" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[Housed in <b>the vitamin-enriched majesty</b> of a former Victorian oat-puffing plant, this gallery holds <b>the largest</b> collection of paintings, sculptures and photographs of cereal mascots in the world - <b>including</b> the controversial Lucian Freud portrait of a neckerchief-less Tony the Tiger.<br /><br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="emin.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/emin.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="383" width="424" /></span><br /> <div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><b><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">Tracey Emin's sexually charged <i>Snap, Crackle and Pop</i>, from the National Cereal Mascot Portrait Gallery's permanent collection</font></b><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Oyster cards</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/oyster-cards.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.58</id>

    <published>2007-11-12T21:17:39Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-12T21:07:42Z</updated>

    <summary>In 2003, Mayor Ken Livingstone invented the Oyster card - a credit-card sized piece of plastic that harnesses the power of clockwork and wafer-thin magnets to allow commuters to pre-pay for their travel on London&apos;s Tube, bus and zeppelin network.Oyster...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="death" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
        <category term="tube" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="oyster" label="oyster" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="tube" label="tube" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[In 2003, Mayor Ken Livingstone invented the Oyster card - a credit-card sized <b>piece of plastic</b> that harnesses the power of clockwork and wafer-thin magnets to <b>allow commuters</b> to pre-pay for their travel on London's Tube, bus and zeppelin network.<br /><br />Oyster card users simply <b>press</b> their cards against the 'no fuss' magnetic readers at the beginning and end of their journey, allowing them to pass swiftly through the ticket barriers with the ease of <b>a top forensic detective</b> slipping through the police line at the scene of a murder.<br /><br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="oyster.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/oyster.jpg" class="mt-image-right" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 20px 20px; float: right;" height="425" width="283" /></span>However, such convenience comes with a terrible responsibility - you <b>must </b>'touch in' at the start and 'touch out' at the end of every journey. If you do not, Transport for London will summon <b>one of nine</b> St. James's Ticket Wraiths <font style="font-size: 0.8em;">(SKILL 12, STAMINA 24) </font>and dispatch it to your house. Probably <b>the most eldritch</b> of all London Underground staff, these fell, robed creatures materialise in commuters' bedrooms in <b>the dead of night</b>, looming over their victims and breathing out evil vapours from <b>the very lungs</b> of the Northern Line. The terrified Londoner must press their Oyster card against the apparition's face - which is a fully-functional magnetic reader with a wireless link to the main Transport for London database - or pay a £20 on-the-spot fine.<br /><b><br />If you have you been affected by a visit from one of Transport for London's St. James's Ticket Wraiths or are having trouble paying your fine, call the Mayor of London's office on 020 7983 4100.</b><br /> <div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="right"><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">(Source image: Tom Page, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)</font><br /></div></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Evacuation</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/evacuation.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.55</id>

    <published>2007-11-08T22:36:59Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-08T22:24:58Z</updated>

    <summary>As the Second World War began with fears that German bombers would menace the capital, Churchill&apos;s government drew up plans for mass evacuation. The huge logistical exercise began in November 1939 - almost 1.5 million adults were taken by train...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="evacuation" label="evacuation" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="history" label="history" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="ww2" label="ww2" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[As the Second World War began <b>with fears</b> that German bombers would menace the capital, Churchill's government <b>drew up</b> plans for mass evacuation. The huge logistical exercise began in November 1939 - almost 1.5 million adults were taken <b>by train and bus</b> to live with families in the safety of the countryside. Children remained behind - small and nimble, <b>Churchill reasoned</b>, they would be harder targets for German bombs to hit.<br /><br />The youngsters were trained to keep London running all by themselves, filling every role <b>except for</b> the few jobs that only adults could do, such as reviewing the theatre or fetching things down from high shelves. Office workers, train drivers, <b>zoo keepers</b> - all these jobs were done by the under-fifteens.<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="evac.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/evac.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="300" width="400" /></span><br /> <div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><font style="font-size: 0.8em;"><br /><b>Henry Heath, eight, photographed outside one of his 23 London factories<br /><br /></b><font style="font-size: 1.25em;">This strategy was not without its problems. Work in one accountancy firm <b>ground </b>to a halt when its wartime boss - six-year-old Neil Follett - sent a memo to all staff warning of "a tiperiter monster" loose on the second floor. By 1941, for the first time, Britain was <b>a net importer </b>of rusks, and to this day, bathtime is technically illegal in Bethnal Green.<br /><br />However, all in all things went very smoothly, and indeed London's wartime economy was at its healthiest since 1929. But the situation was very different in the countryside, clogged <b>as it was</b> with bored, shiftless adults, forever getting under the feet of their unwilling hosts. The displaced grown-ups became such a nuisance to the important activities of farming and food production that Churchill was forced to evacuate them again - this time to the Isle of Wight where they were <b>put to work</b> "making sandwiches for the Front".<br /><br />The adults were finally allowed back in London in June 1944, gladly taking back their old jobs; although for most, proper work didn't resume <b>until September </b>that year, by which time all the jam had been hosed off their desks.</font><br /><br />(Source images: Frankie Roberto, Owen Blacker, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)<br /></font></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London&apos;s Best-Kept Secrets: Willesden Junction Rainforest</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/11/londons-bestkept-secrets-wille.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.54</id>

    <published>2007-11-06T09:50:19Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-08T23:46:14Z</updated>

    <summary>This 7-hectare patch of lush tropical jungle owes its existence to Willesden&apos;s unique microclimate.(Source images: Neil T, d g, robstephaustralia, majamom, licensed under Creative Commons 2.0)...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="secrets" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="rainforest" label="rainforest" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="willesdenjunction" label="willesden junction" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="wjrain.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/wjrain.jpg" class="mt-image-right" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 20px 20px; float: right;" height="252" width="350" /></span><br /><div>This 7-hectare patch of lush tropical jungle owes<b> its existence </b>to Willesden's unique microclimate.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="right"><font style="font-size: 0.8em;">(Source images: Neil T, d g, robstephaustralia,<br /> majamom, licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/deed.en_GB">Creative Commons 2.0</a>)</font><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London in statistics #3</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/10/london-in-statistics-3.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.52</id>

    <published>2007-10-31T23:12:36Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-31T23:17:04Z</updated>

    <summary>Safely stowed within its inhabitants, London contains 73, 680, 537 pints of human blood - that&apos;s enough human blood to power the Hoover Dam for 3.5 seconds. Londoners&apos; blood could - briefly - be used to power the Hoover Dam....</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="statistics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="blood" label="blood" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="statistics" label="statistics" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[Safely stowed within its inhabitants, London contains <b>73, 680, 537 pints</b> of human blood - that's enough human blood to power the Hoover Dam for <b>3.5 seconds</b>.<br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="bloodyhoover.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/bloodyhoover.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="143" width="180" /></span><br /> <div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><font style="font-size: 1em;"><b><br /><small>Londoners' blood could - briefly - be used to power the
Hoover Dam. Luckily, US energy-usage forecasts predict that such
measures will not be necessary until 2045.</small><img src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/countpixel.gif" /></b></font></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>London&apos;s Fauna #2</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/10/londons-fauna-2.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.50</id>

    <published>2007-10-30T22:33:10Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-30T22:59:20Z</updated>

    <summary>Chimney snakes (chimchimini chimchimini) These dangerous rooftop animals are not true snakes, but actually mammals - one theory is that they are weasels that became adapted to living in chimneys and other artificial tube-like structures, losing their legs over evolutionary...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="chimneysnake" label="chimney snake" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="fauna" label="fauna" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<font style="font-size: 1.25em;"><b>Chimney snakes</b> <i>(chimchimini chimchimini)</i></font><br /><span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="chim2.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/chim2.jpg" class="mt-image-left" style="margin: 0pt 20px 20px 0pt; float: left;" height="285" width="241" /></span><br /> <div>These dangerous rooftop animals are not true snakes, but actually mammals - one theory is that they are weasels that became adapted to living in chimneys and other artificial tube-like structures, losing their legs over evolutionary time as a 'squirming' method of getting about proved more advantageous. In Victorian days, they were the bane of chimney sweeps - some of the bigger specimens could easily eat a sweep whole and still have room for a roof monkey. The creature was immortalised in Edgar Allan Poe's chilling tale, <i>"Cough," Quoth The Chimn'y Snake</i>.<br /><br /><b>Number of legs:</b> Just four vestigial stumps.<br /><br /><b>Appearance:</b> A sort of living draught excluder.<br /><br /><b>Habitat:</b> Chimneys, ventilation ducts, church organs.<br /><br /><b>Diet:</b> Soot, children.<br /><br /><b>Social grouping:</b> Chimney snake society is basically like a pan of giant evil noodles.<br /><br /><b>Reproduction:</b> When in heat, a female chimney snake suspends herself in her 'nest' chimney, takes soot into her lungs and puffs it out of the top of the chimney in a sexy pattern. Male chimney snakes, seeing these saucy smoke signals, race to her chimney. The first one to slither there will dislocate his jaw and engulf the whole chimney pot with his mouth, breathing in the female's smoke puffs which now come at an urgent, pulsing rate. These vigorous puffs of smoke cause the male chimney snake to hack up a sticky parcel of reproductive phlegm from his lungs, which double as gonads. The fertile mucus splatters on the inside walls of the chimney where the female chimney snake gathers it up at her leisure, using a bony appendage shaped like a teaspoon. Precisely what she does next with the gamete solution is unknown, and probably disgusting, but at any rate: six weeks later, a shower of hundreds of shoelace-sized newborn chimney snakes will pop out of her chimney at 180mph, then rain gently down on delicate parachutes made of placenta, falling into chimney pots all over London, ready to start the whole majestic cycle of chimney snake life again.<br /><br /><b>Relationship with man:</b> Bad. Victorians always resented the fact that hundreds of young chimney sweeps and children playing hide-and-seek were taken by chimney snakes each year. They hunted the creatures down vociferously. Unfortunately, the only effective way of hunting a chimney snake known to Victorians involved lowering a small child down a chimney on a fishing line in an attempt to lure the serpent up to the rooftop, where it could be safely doused in acid. The hazards involved in this technique were many and, on average, five children were killed for every chimney snake dissolved.<br /><br /><b>Useful byproducts:</b> The long, flexible spine of the chimney snake is much prized by Goths as a sort of scary belt.<br /><br /><b>Threats: </b>Santa.<br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Did you know? #4</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.stupidlondon.com/2007/10/did-you-know-4.html" />
    <id>tag:www.stupidlondon.com,2007://2.48</id>

    <published>2007-10-28T22:31:12Z</published>
    <updated>2007-10-28T22:40:06Z</updated>

    <summary>The Central Line is the only &apos;wraparound&apos; line on the London Underground. Intrepid commuters who stay on the train passed Epping in the east will suddenly find themselves at Ealing Broadway - some 27 miles to the west - in...</summary>
    <author>
        <name>Rob</name>
        
    </author>
    
        <category term="did you know" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" />
    
    <category term="fruit" label="fruit" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="oyster" label="oyster" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="tube" label="tube" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    <category term="underground" label="underground" scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag" />
    
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en-us" xml:base="http://www.stupidlondon.com/">
        <![CDATA[<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="cherries.jpg" src="http://www.stupidlondon.com/images/cherries.jpg" class="mt-image-right" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 20px 20px; float: right;" height="89" width="100" /></span>The Central Line is the only 'wraparound' line on the London Underground. Intrepid commuters who <b>stay on the train</b> passed Epping in the east will suddenly find themselves at Ealing Broadway - some 27 miles<b> to the west</b> - in the blink of <b>an eye</b>. They will also find that <b>two cherries</b> have been added to their Oyster card. They are worth 50 points. <div><br /></div>]]>
        
    </content>
</entry>

</feed>
