How To Convince Everyone To Believe A Conspiracy Theory.

        The Internet has done many wonderful things for everyone, including (but not limited to): a seemingly endless stream of cat pictures, letting us buy a £2,500 print of Paul Ross at 2:30am, endless footage of people falling over, and all the adult material one's heart could possibly desire. It's even allowed us to get access to an entire map of the globe, where we can zoom in on literally anywhere for a looky-see, only made better by the fact that the first thing people zoom in on is not the pyramids, or huge sculptures, or any other amazing thing that they might not see in real life. Nope, it's their house. From the top. Not like you've never seen that before, people! Then when you're done pointing at the screen and saying "that's where my bedroom is", you can update everyone you know about the make of baked-beans you're enjoying with your toast. Then, you can go on to watching clips of Newsreaders being humiliated by their colleagues and reading the reviews on that lovely Paul Ross print.

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There Are Better Ways To Get Famous Than Big Brother.

After literally a whole night's thought at the pub, I've decided that I don't really want to be a "celebrity". By that, I don't mean someone like Sir Alan Sugar or one of the suited folk from Dragon's Den. They're successful in their own right, and just happen to be well-known due to some pokey show on BBC2. I don't even mean Phillip Scofield famous, where your job is to sit in front of a camera and chat to Jamie Oliver about his latest tomato. No, I mean the ones who are famous and well-paid, yet for the life of me I can't quite work out what it is they do: the "professional Celebrity". Chantelle, for example, turned up on Big Brother presumably for a joke. No-one in the house knew what she did, but she seemed to have the reading age of a chinchilla and the vocabulary of a teaspoon, so they assumed she must be a rich socialite at least... and that's it! That's all she's really done. Yet if she got married again, Hello would be tripping over themselves to be at the do, taking arty shots.

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Get the world into perspective. Trust me, it's a big place.

Here's something that makes me go all weird for a few minutes if I think about it: the Earth's crust is only 70km thick at it's largest point, and something like 5-10km thick at the lowest points of the ocean bed. below that is 2,200km of mantle. Have you ever seen lava flow from a volcano? That stuff is magma. This swirls round at stupidly hot temperatures at very high pressure, and moves the earths crust around. Want to know what causes things like earthquakes and grounds your flight to Iceland? That'll be the mantle. below that is the core. This is mostly iron and is more dense than your average Big Brother contestant. it's constant moving causes the magnetic field that helps you find your way. It is unimaginably hot, and the whole shebang goes down a total of 6,500km, which is about the distance from England to Uganda. Wowzers!

Now, look at the ground. All that is going on right under your feet, right now!

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Multiskill, or face the consequences!

Imagine this; I'm getting ready for a big night out, and want a fantastic shirt. I know loads about shirts and want to make sure that it makes me look fantastic. I go to many shops, I browse the internet, and I try on more shirts than I can remember. I settle on a fantastically designed, beautifully fitting number from a top designer, and it looks fab! Oh, I'm a happy bunny. So, the big night comes, with all the glitz and glam I have been dreaming of. The shirt comes out, gets ironed, and is put on. I go out with a big, confident grin, and the night turns out to be a massive spectacular failure. Why?

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