Radio Times articles, from 2003-2005
Escape-proof???
Sounds Familiar
The Hounding of the Royals
Disgusted of Tunbridge
Wells?
The Mystery of the Stones
Going Loco
Troy
Pedal Power
Dentures
Obesity
Genius Sperm
Ultimation
Sandals, Slaughter and Sex
Greased Lightning
Flying Saucers
Aztecs
Venus
The Stuarts
The Ascent of Man
Test-tube Tantrums
RT Mastermind
Medical Marvels
Engineering Triumphs
Eccentricity
Surreal Estate
Offshore Wind Farms
Nothing to Loos
Groovy
A Bridge Too Far
Flogging a Dead Horse
Worst Jobs
Asteroid Alert
Eureka Years
Crash
Inspired
The Man Who Missed Dinosaurs
The Sagger-maker's Bottom-knocker
The Master
Naming Nature
Albert Einstein
Environmental Scariness
Geronimo!
Ancient Plastic Surgery
The Ancients
Gold in Them Thar Banks and
Braes
Animal Magnetism
Egyptians
Technophilia
HIGNFY
Panem et Circenses
Tambora
That Spotty Old Sun
Telling Stories
Beethoven's Hair
A Blind Eye
Comets
Medrocks
Other articles
Thomas Crapper
Thunder, Flush and Thomas Crapper, 1997
The
birth of the bike
Eureekaaargh!, 1999
Romans were streets ahead
Daily Telegraph, November 2000
The Pioneers who Invented Progress
Daily Telegraph,
August 2001
A tough mistake
Chemistry Review, September 2001
At home and school in 1952
The Times, June 2002
Newton and the rotten apple
Daily Telegraph, 11 September
2002
World Toilet Day
Daily
Telegraph, 19 November 2004
|
|
I am buying a beach. I bring it
up because on radio 4 this week (xx time, yy day) Clive Anderson talks
to people who are selling plots of land on the Moon, Mars, and Venus.
I’m not kidding; have a look at
www.moonestates.com; they offer to sell you an acre of Mars for
£14.25, plus the registration fee. I am not sure there is much chance of
your ever getting to see your real estate, especially in the case of
Venus. Venus may look pretty, and be associated with the goddess of
love, but the surface is hot enough to melt lead, and rain falls all the
time – not water but sulphuric acid.
How can anyone offer this land
for sale? Because 24 years ago an ex-ventriloquist and entrepreneur
called Dennis Hope went into the offices of San Francisco County and
filed a declaration of ownership. I am reminded of the annexation of
north America by the Tudors and Stuarts. In 1497 that well-known British
sailor John Cabot (actually his name was Giovanni Caboto, and he came
from Genoa) sailed across the Atlantic, landed on the mainland, planted
a flag, and said ‘I claim this New-Found Land for the King of England.’
He then saw the remains of a camp-fire, realised there were already
native Americans in residence, sprinted back to his ship, and never set
foot on shore again.
Henry VII was delighted to be
given a new continent, and arranged for Cabot to get a reward, which was
presented to him by a Welsh tax collector called Richard ap-Merrick, or
Ameryke, and the story goes that Cabot, dead chuffed, said ‘Thanks, Mr
Ameryke; I shall name this new country after you – America.’
Can you really claim ownership
of a country just by sticking a flag in the ground? Can you really claim
ownership of a planet before anyone has been there? Which brings me back
to my beach. Well, actually our beach; I am one of a consortium of
three. The beach is of mucky shingle and seaweed; not the sort of place
where beautiful bodies frolic in the sunshine. And it’s not very big –
in fact rather smaller than my sitting room. But if we succeed in buying
it I hope one day to launch a little rowing boat, and if you want to
walk around the coastline of Britain on the high-water mark, you will
have to walk across our beach
|