Knitting Friday – 28/2/14

Even though it’s not officially the silly season, the couple of weeks after half term and before Easter tend to be a bit of a news wilderness. Pity the poor news journalist who wakes up to find the semi-silly season upon him, and finds himself reduced to writing about how politicians wear their headphones when listening to interpretations of speeches. Oh yes people, it was right there on the BBC. And if they’re getting desperate, well there’s no knowing what’s not going to happen next.

Yes, check those bad boys out – not only are they Spock-shaped, they’re also in a neat cable pattern. Loving that regional knitting right there.

In other news, while we’ve been concentrating overmuch on Mr Nobama, look at what the UK has been up to! Yes! Rather than doing the whole American big brother thing, it’s been doing a dodgy neighbour with binoculars thing – recording the weird stuff people get up to with their webcams. No, people. Just no. Don’t ever do anything you don’t mind the queen seeing. Cos one day she probably will.

Do everyone a favour and keep it to yourself.

In other news we have the reassurance that those clever people who make those decisions are designing ‘guidelines’ for what has been called three-person babies. From such a benign name you might think it’s the traditional mummy-daddy-milkman combo, but no. This is a baby that’s genetically let’s say ‘adapted’ to have three parents. Now this is not the place for an educated monologue, it’s just where I poke fun at stuff and then duck, but it’s a bit – you know… What is this really? Chimera? Hybrid? Nephilim? Committee movement? American Potluck Supper? Anagram? Dunno. Just going to stop right there. Not quite OK with engineering babies.

Anyway, let’s get back to the more reliable world of really pointless research. Next up for a drubbing by the People Who Know are stethoscopes. Heavens, you think; has someone been accidentally strangled by one? Fortunately not, no. They’re covered in germs. Germs I tell you.

Apparently the germs on a stethoscope diaphragm are outnumbered only by the germs on a doctor’s hands. In my mind, the stethoscope doesn’t seem quite so bad now I know that. The Mayo Clinic Proceedings suggests that doctors decontaminate after each use. I kind of hoped they were doing that. That’s the last time I borrow one. However, it does beg certain questions – let’s play a little game. It’s called ‘Would you rather…?’

Would you rather…?

  • Clean stethoscope or clean hands?
  • Clean hands or clean tie (yes – I don’t know the average number of ties a doctor owns, but I know I’ve got more pairs of tights than that) – and think of all that dangling…
  • Clean tie or clean doorknob

The point is, I think the stethoscope is the least of our worries when faced with the bacterial minefield that is being in a public place. How about communal pens at the bank? Buttons on the ATM? Telephones? Handshakes? See, it’s all just getting a bit weird.

What’s that you say? Germs on your stethoscope? Here’s a knitted cover. That makes it all OK.

In other news, Spanish bailed-out bank, inventively named ‘Bankia’ is being privatised. You may remember (or you may not, depending on how much you search for modern flamenco on YouTube), that Bankia was subjected to a flamenco invasion at the height of the Spanish crisis. Unlike English morris-dancing, Flamenco is a social commentary; here are the lyrics to an improvised flamenco flashmob in a Bankia branch:

“The attitude and the will, my friend, has changed

The attitude and the will,

The attitude and the will.

Oh, since you have money,

It makes you unbearable,

These are the things of the nouveau riche.

You have lowered my salary and put up the price of everything.

To hold my own, I’ve even had to pawn the parrot.

And I’ve even had to sell my house.

Don’t mess me around anymore, Rodrigo.

Because of your bad leadership,

We’ll end up on the run,

And because of your bad head, Rodrigo,

We’ll end up on the run.

Bankia, Bankia, Bankia,

For you six lungs,

For me not even a few fish gills.

Bankia, Bankia, Bankia,

For you six lungs,

For me not even a few fish gills.

I’m not going to love you,

Even though you may cancel my interest payments.

I do not love you Bankia. ”

Something for everyone right there – fish gills, parrots, even pawn. See, I can’t imagine a load of morris-dancers invading a local Cooperative bank and having a lyrical pop at the staff. Would be quite happy to see it though.

And finally, Dolly Parton is a confirmed act at Glasto. Oh hurrah, might be worth having my tent set fire to and my wellies melted, not to mention getting a good dose of trenchfoot and a snifter of typhus for.

I’ve just googled and WHY OH WHY has no one knitted Dolly?

This is the best I can do, and it obviously has nothing to do with the wonderfulness, wit and wisdom of Miss Parton:

Yep. I don’t know why there are three either.

Fungus the Bogeyman’s wife?

See, it doesn’t really matter what I write; all you’re interested in is the knitted sloth at the end.

Have a good weekend.

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