Jared Diamond is a clever man. This much is obvious. I recently came across an article written by him a while ago entitled ‘The Worst Mistake in the History of the Human Race‘. When Diamond says things like that, he’s not being sarcastic, or cute, or about to launch into some trite childhood reminiscence. No, he’s being totally serious.

So what’s the mistake, you’re wondering. Farming, that’s what. The first farmers (and many subsistence farmers today) had a substantially worse standard of living than their hunting and gathering contemporaries (including poorer health, shorter life spans and less leisure time). The first European settlers crossing the great plains in America often remarked how lazy the native populations were, but the locals were well fed and enjoyed doing whatever it was they did between hunts.

The one big direct advantage of farming had over hunting and gathering was that it allowed higher population densities. Eventually that led to surpluses, division of labour, technology and civilization, but it also allowed for social hierarchies, which resulted in one group of people dominating another. Farming may have led to the invention of the washing machine, but only after enabling the subjugation of women.

There are plenty of people who want to go back to this kind of ‘natural’ living, or at least the kind of social structures it produced, but it’s too late of course, Pandora’s Box has been opened. Before farming there was no political power to be grabbed and there was no ‘progress’ to be made. Nowadays it’s a utopian dream to imagine that if one power structure is removed it won’t be replaced by another one, as if everyone would just unilaterally agree to mind their own business. So what we’re left with, since some bright spark decided to scatter a bunch of seeds ten thousand years ago, is arguing over the least worst way to organise our lives, or have them organised for us.

Drama critic Terry Teachout appears to be in fine form after his illness:

I already knew one thing that was at least as important: whatever the verdict, I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. I have music to hear, plays to review, paintings to see, etchings to buy and treasure, a book to finish writing, a blog to keep, dozens of friends who claim quite convincingly to love me, and many, many memories, a few dark and desperate, far more full of light. In the last few days alone countless things have happened, small and large, that make me want to cling as fiercely as possible to whatever time remains on the ticking clock whose face I cannot see. I have felt this way once before in my life, in the months immediately following 9/11. It took nothing less than a congested heart to make me feel the same way again.

I particularly enjoyed this:

Two minutes later a two-man team of paramedics was slapping an oxygen mask on my face and slipping an IV into my right arm.

“So you’re a drama critic, huh?” one of them asked as they carried me down the stairs. “My grandma is coming to town for Christmas—I want to take her to a show. What do you suggest?”

“Oh, definitely The Trip to Bountiful,” I said, my voice muffled by the mask. “I guarantee she’ll like it.”

Link here

As I was making my way across London on the Tube the other day I couldn’t help but notice how nice it smelled. That’s right, the Tube. I was standing on an escalator at Waterloo Station and it smelled of rubber and aluminum and people. It reminded me of a time still not too long ago when London was home.

Yesterday, walking to a friend’s home in Leeds, I caught another familiar smell. This time it was the December air in Leeds, heavy with damp earth and grass. It never really occurred to me until now that the air here is a constant reminder that wherever you are in Great Britain, you are never further than 65 miles from the sea.

If I catch any more familiar smells, I’ll be sure to let you know.

To learn all you need to know about science you just need to watch advertisements. The best science brains of today are all trying to find the most effective protein for hair strengthening, and, fortunately for us, the Pantene Foundation provide the public service of keeping us up to date with this research. For truly radical science, though, you need look no further than S.C. Johnson’s Glade Scented Oil Candles.

At first glance, the advert (or commercial, if you prefer) on TV gives us nothing new: you light the candle, the wax melts into an oil and your house stinks like a tart’s bra for three weeks (or, more specifically, ‘Dewberry Dream’). There’s a lot of guff about a specially designed cotton and metal wick, and a hot plate, but the truly revolutionary new technology is saved for the end (they know how to build tension, these advermetising fellows) when the voice-over giddily tells us that ‘when the oil is gone, the candle goes out’.

They’ve done it! Who would have thought that it would have been a commercial smell company, rather than NASA or someone, who came up with the world’s first NOT-EVERLASTING CANDLE. If only they’d had this technology in the Middle Ages, they could have avoided all that expense on snuffers, and avoided all that misery they’re so famous for (although those dreadful snuffing unions would have no doubt tried to get them banned).

Now that S.C. Johnson have released this technology into the public domain, there is no stopping it. I guarantee that by this time next year Subaru will be bringing out a car that when the gas is used up, the car STOPS RUNNING! I, for one, cannot wait.

(Incidentally, I noticed on the Glade website that they have trademarked the phrase ‘Scenterior Design’.)

How much do you tip a delivery guy? Can someone tell me what is acceptable as I keep cranking up the amount I give them and I’m still not getting any smiles.

When I first came here I thought a couple of dollars would be enough (I’m talking about $20 orders here). Then I started to feel bad and put it up to $3, then $4. I tried to work out how much I earn per hour then what fraction of an hour the delivery took and then I had a figure I thought was ethical. But I still feel bad giving them $5 or even $6, it’s so damn cold out there and they always look so miserable.

Any guidance on this perplexing subject would be greatly appreciated.