As readers of this blog will know, I've been trying to learn French. Why? One, because I like the language, two because I find TV5, the French television network available on cable, is an excellent source of both movies and documentaries and three because my granddaughter is attending French public school. I wish to support the little girl in her effort to learn another language.
When it comes to reading French, I do fairly well. I often watch French movies and catch the gist of what is being said by turning on the French subtitles for the hearing impaired. Unfortunately, a lot of the newscasts are not subtitled.
What has me truly stymied is understanding spoken French. The words seem to fly by, merging together. To get past this hearing boondoggle, I have been listening to French songs and other sources of spoken French.
For my own education, I have posted a video of the French song Tu Trouveras sung by Natasha St. Pier. I have also posted the lyrics both in French and translated into English with links to the source on the Web. (I would appreciate any suggestions on improving the translations.)
If interested, listen to the song, check out the vocabulary and then take the test posted on Quizlet. Bonne chance! (Good luck!)
Lyrics to Tu Trouveras: Lyrics to You Will Find:
Comme tout le monde j'ai mes défauts Like everybody I have my faults
J'ai pas toujours les mots qu'il faut I don't always have the right words
Mais si tu lis entre les lignes But if you read between the lines
Tu trouveras dans mes chansons You will find in my songs
Tout c'que je n'ai pas su te dire All that I don't know how to say to you
Il y a des fautes d'impression There are wrong impressions
Des "Je t'aime" un peu brouillon Some "I love you's" a little muddle-headed
Malgré mes accords malhabiles Inspite of my clumsy chords
Tu trouveras dans mes chansons You will find in my songs
Tout ce que je n'ai pas osé te dire All that I haven't dared to tell you
{Refrain:}
Tu trouveras . . . You will find . . .
Mes blessures et mes faiblesses My wounds and my weaknesses
Celles que j'n'avoue qu'à demi-mot Those that I only say in a low voice
Mes faux pas mes maladresses My slip-ups, my blunders
Et de l'amour plus qu'il n'en faut And more love than is necessary
J'ai tellement peur que tu me laisses I'm so afraid that you are leaving me
Sache que si j'en fais toujours trop Know that if I'm always trying too hard
C'est pour qu'un peu tu me restes It's to make you stay with me a little
longer
Tu me restes You stay with me.
Il y en a d'autres que tu aimeras There will be some others you will love
Bien plus belles, plus fortes que moi More beautiful, much stronger than me
[Je leur laisserai bien sûr la place Of course I'll give them my place
Quand je n'aurai plus dans mes chansons When I don't have in my songs
Plus rien à te dire en face Anything else to say in front of you
Le temps vous endurcit de tout Time makes you stronger
Des illusions, des mauvais coups] From illusions, from hard blows
Si je n'ai pas su te retenir If I didn't known how to retain you
Sache qu'il y a dans mes chansons I want you to know that in my songs
Tout c'que je n'ai pas eu le temps de te dire Is everything I didn't have time to tell
you
Le temps vous endurcit de tout Time makes you strong
Des illusions, des mauvais coups From illusions, from bad beats
Si je n'ai pas su te retenir If I wasn't able to make you stay
Sache qu'il y a dans mes chansons I want you to know that in my songs
Tout c'que je n'ai pas eu le temps de te dire Is all I didn't have the time to tell you
{au Refrain: x3}
Tu trouveras . . . You will find . . .
Mes blessures et mes faiblesses My wounds and my weaknesses
Celles que j'n'avoue qu'à demi-mot Those that I only say in a low voice
Mes faux pas mes maladresses My slip-ups, my blunders
Et de l'amour plus qu'il n'en faut And more love than is necessary
J'ai tellement peur que tu me laisses I'm so afraid that you are leaving me
Sache que si j'en fais toujours trop Know that if I'm always trying too hard
C'est pour qu'un peu tu me restes It's to make you stay with me a little
longer
Tu me restes You stay with me.
[ These are Tu Trouveras lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]
*
Sunday, February 23, 2014
The fable of the plant closure
Once upon a time there was a little widget factory operating in a not-so-little town. The factory made good widgets, not great ones, but they were good quality and the price was right. The business flourished.
The widget factory owner, his wife and all his children flourished. All the widget makers at his widget factory flourished. The little town, which had lots of little factories like this one, flourished. All was good.
Then one day the widget making factory owner was approached by a beautiful temptress. The factory owner fell for her charms and tumbled into bed with her. He had an affair. His wife discovered and she left him. What she didn't leave was her half ownership in the widget factory.
The factory owner had to face the shocking reality that he wasn't the sole owner. He and his estranged wife were co-owners. What was he to do?
The factory owner hired good lawyers -- good for him, bad for his wife. It was soon learned that in another city in a country not all that far, far away there was another widget maker. A greedy widget maker who grew his business by buying other widget factories that, for whatever reason, could be bought for a song.
The big widget maker was known as Mr. Acquisition because he had grown his business into one of the biggest in the entire world by buying one after another competing businesses. He had acquired dozens and dozens and dozens of both small and large widget-making plants.
The little widget factory operating in a not-so-little town was sold to Mr. Acquisition. The money paid was split between the divorcing couple. The husband opened another widget factory, a smaller one, and named it Widget Factory Two. The lawyers fashioned all this so that the cheating husband was able, as they say, to stick it to his wife one last time.
As for Widget Factory One, the little factory operating in a not-so-little town, well Mr. Acquisition continued on his buying spree until his business got too big and too complex. His prices were too high and his quality too low. The value of his company crashed. Mr. Acquisition was forced to close Widget Factory One.
Mr. Acquisition had taken a lot of his profit in shares in his once ever expanding business. This meant that as the share value of his Big Widget Company collapsed he lost millions. He began closing plants all over the world. His grossly inflated business had burst like an overfilled balloon. Workers and shareholders around the world were left, as they say, high and dry.
Mr. Acquisition, in trouble financially, was himself acquired -- or at least what remained of his widget business. But don't worry about Mr. Acquisition. The new owner gave the former owner a handsome golden parachute worth many millions of dollars. As you can tell, it wasn't really a parachute but it was handsome and it was golden and, as they say, two out of three ain't bad.
_____________________________________________________
This little fable was inspired by stories still being played out in the real world.
The widget factory owner, his wife and all his children flourished. All the widget makers at his widget factory flourished. The little town, which had lots of little factories like this one, flourished. All was good.
Then one day the widget making factory owner was approached by a beautiful temptress. The factory owner fell for her charms and tumbled into bed with her. He had an affair. His wife discovered and she left him. What she didn't leave was her half ownership in the widget factory.
The factory owner had to face the shocking reality that he wasn't the sole owner. He and his estranged wife were co-owners. What was he to do?
The factory owner hired good lawyers -- good for him, bad for his wife. It was soon learned that in another city in a country not all that far, far away there was another widget maker. A greedy widget maker who grew his business by buying other widget factories that, for whatever reason, could be bought for a song.
The big widget maker was known as Mr. Acquisition because he had grown his business into one of the biggest in the entire world by buying one after another competing businesses. He had acquired dozens and dozens and dozens of both small and large widget-making plants.
The little widget factory operating in a not-so-little town was sold to Mr. Acquisition. The money paid was split between the divorcing couple. The husband opened another widget factory, a smaller one, and named it Widget Factory Two. The lawyers fashioned all this so that the cheating husband was able, as they say, to stick it to his wife one last time.
As for Widget Factory One, the little factory operating in a not-so-little town, well Mr. Acquisition continued on his buying spree until his business got too big and too complex. His prices were too high and his quality too low. The value of his company crashed. Mr. Acquisition was forced to close Widget Factory One.
Mr. Acquisition had taken a lot of his profit in shares in his once ever expanding business. This meant that as the share value of his Big Widget Company collapsed he lost millions. He began closing plants all over the world. His grossly inflated business had burst like an overfilled balloon. Workers and shareholders around the world were left, as they say, high and dry.
Mr. Acquisition, in trouble financially, was himself acquired -- or at least what remained of his widget business. But don't worry about Mr. Acquisition. The new owner gave the former owner a handsome golden parachute worth many millions of dollars. As you can tell, it wasn't really a parachute but it was handsome and it was golden and, as they say, two out of three ain't bad.
_____________________________________________________
This little fable was inspired by stories still being played out in the real world.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
There's nothing here. It's just scribbling.
 |
| Rainbow by Fiona. |
I have been amazed at the art done by granddaughter now four. I really like some of the stuff she has done. But others in the family have not been so kind. I have been mocked for my open enthusiasm. "It's is not art, Ken," I've been told.
The other day Fiona saw a water colour by another young child. Fiona looked at the painting on a large sheet of paper and she shook her head. "There's nothing here," she said. "It's just scribbling."
I shook my head in disbelief.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Hospitals too full to be safe? Not in London, Ontario.
The front page headline warned: " Hospitals too full to be safe." A follow up online story delivered the second punch to the gut: Overloaded wards likely contributing to spread of dangerous superbugs, says head of infection control for London hospitals. On reading the story I was surprised to learn infection rates have not been on the rise generally in London hospitals and in some cases rates have actually declined. A concerted effort at infection control led by Dr. Michael John is credited for the surprisingly good numbers.
Maybe it's just me and my personal bias when it comes to London hospitals and health care in Canada but I thought the newspaper missed the story. Many experts believe hospital acquired infections (HAI) increase when bed occupancy rates climb above 85 percent. Rates in London have surpassed 100 percent at times, and yet there has not been a corresponding increase in HAI rates.
Dr. John revealed to the paper that "beds have been fitted with hygienic liners that can be disposed, new disinfectants kill spores and patients who can’t be isolated are given separate commodes." Chalk up a win for Dr. John and the health care staff in London.
For some reason, the reporter seemed intent on focusing on the shortage of hospital beds. By comparing the number of hospital beds per thousand in Ontario to the average number available in Europe, a huge mix of countries, the reporter made the shortage seem even more dire: A classic "comparing apples and oranges" error.
Let's try comparing apples to apples: countries to countries. According to the most recent numbers released by The World Bank, Canada has 3.2 beds per 1000 people. Both The United States and Britain had a smidgen less at 3.0 beds per 1000. Sweden fared even worse with only 2.7 beds.
There are more than 50 countries listed by The World Bank with fewer beds per 1000 than Canada. Admittedly, for the most part, having bed numbers that are better than these 50 is not a surprise. Still, Canada can take solace in the fact that Norway has only 3.3 beds per 1000 or a mere .1 more beds than Canada. Norway has some excellent health care numbers despite having a low bed number.
According to the newspaper article, Ontario has only 2.4 hospital beds per 1000. It sounds bad and it is bad but Ontario does not sport the worst numbers on the continent. For lower numbers look south. Ontario has more beds than almost 40% of the American states according to The Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation. Oregon only has 1.8 beds per 1000 and California, Hawaii and Vermont have numbers that are little better.
A more telling number is the percentage of Americans reporting that in the past 12 months they failed to see a doctor despite needing one because of cost. In some regions of the States the number of people who have stopped seeking medical help despite needing it is more than 1 in 5. That is downright frightening. The link provided takes one to a page with some very conservative numbers.
Researchers with The Commonwealth Fund in the United States calculated a much higher number. 37 percent of Americans in the Commonwealth survey went without recommended health care, not seeing a doctor when ill, or failing to fill prescriptions because of costs.
The number of hospital beds per thousand has been dropping all over the globe for years. As can be seen by the number in London, the medical profession is trying to rise to the challenge, and it is a tough challenge.
Recently I had an ablation procedure performed at University Hospital in London. After being sedated by an anesthetist, a heart specialist threaded thin, flexible wires from my groin up through my body to my heart. The surgeon guided the wires into my heart where heat was used to destroy the heart muscle causing my cardiac problem.
Today this procedure is often done as day surgery. My procedure was done in the morning and I was home for dinner. One way to cut down on hospital acquired infections is to get the patient out of the hospital quickly. My recovery bed was my own.
Are more hospital beds needed? Of course, there's no argument there, and the shortage is neither new nor news. The big story is how well those in the health profession in Canada are delivering some damn fine health care despite facing some pretty daunting problems.
We may be short of beds and our ER departments may take far too long to see all patients, but in the end the important numbers are good. For instance, we live longer, healthier lives than our neighbours to the south.
I tip my hat to the fine Canadian doctors and nurses without whom I would not be here today. I truly owe them my life. Thank you.
Maybe it's just me and my personal bias when it comes to London hospitals and health care in Canada but I thought the newspaper missed the story. Many experts believe hospital acquired infections (HAI) increase when bed occupancy rates climb above 85 percent. Rates in London have surpassed 100 percent at times, and yet there has not been a corresponding increase in HAI rates.
Dr. John revealed to the paper that "beds have been fitted with hygienic liners that can be disposed, new disinfectants kill spores and patients who can’t be isolated are given separate commodes." Chalk up a win for Dr. John and the health care staff in London.
For some reason, the reporter seemed intent on focusing on the shortage of hospital beds. By comparing the number of hospital beds per thousand in Ontario to the average number available in Europe, a huge mix of countries, the reporter made the shortage seem even more dire: A classic "comparing apples and oranges" error.
Let's try comparing apples to apples: countries to countries. According to the most recent numbers released by The World Bank, Canada has 3.2 beds per 1000 people. Both The United States and Britain had a smidgen less at 3.0 beds per 1000. Sweden fared even worse with only 2.7 beds.
There are more than 50 countries listed by The World Bank with fewer beds per 1000 than Canada. Admittedly, for the most part, having bed numbers that are better than these 50 is not a surprise. Still, Canada can take solace in the fact that Norway has only 3.3 beds per 1000 or a mere .1 more beds than Canada. Norway has some excellent health care numbers despite having a low bed number.
According to the newspaper article, Ontario has only 2.4 hospital beds per 1000. It sounds bad and it is bad but Ontario does not sport the worst numbers on the continent. For lower numbers look south. Ontario has more beds than almost 40% of the American states according to The Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation. Oregon only has 1.8 beds per 1000 and California, Hawaii and Vermont have numbers that are little better.
A more telling number is the percentage of Americans reporting that in the past 12 months they failed to see a doctor despite needing one because of cost. In some regions of the States the number of people who have stopped seeking medical help despite needing it is more than 1 in 5. That is downright frightening. The link provided takes one to a page with some very conservative numbers.
Researchers with The Commonwealth Fund in the United States calculated a much higher number. 37 percent of Americans in the Commonwealth survey went without recommended health care, not seeing a doctor when ill, or failing to fill prescriptions because of costs.
The number of hospital beds per thousand has been dropping all over the globe for years. As can be seen by the number in London, the medical profession is trying to rise to the challenge, and it is a tough challenge.
Recently I had an ablation procedure performed at University Hospital in London. After being sedated by an anesthetist, a heart specialist threaded thin, flexible wires from my groin up through my body to my heart. The surgeon guided the wires into my heart where heat was used to destroy the heart muscle causing my cardiac problem.
Today this procedure is often done as day surgery. My procedure was done in the morning and I was home for dinner. One way to cut down on hospital acquired infections is to get the patient out of the hospital quickly. My recovery bed was my own.
Are more hospital beds needed? Of course, there's no argument there, and the shortage is neither new nor news. The big story is how well those in the health profession in Canada are delivering some damn fine health care despite facing some pretty daunting problems.
We may be short of beds and our ER departments may take far too long to see all patients, but in the end the important numbers are good. For instance, we live longer, healthier lives than our neighbours to the south.
I tip my hat to the fine Canadian doctors and nurses without whom I would not be here today. I truly owe them my life. Thank you.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
She said, he said: A lame excuse for balance
It was a small post. A reporter at the local paper claimed to have balanced his coverage of a political speech by seeking out and publishing the comments of a well known political adversary of the speaker.
Did the reporter question the speaker's statements? Did the reporter think the claims being made were simply bold-faced political puffery? Why did the reporter not simply report what was said and move on? Considering the source for the alternate point of view, I really don't know the answer. The reporter consulted Joe Fontana, the present Mayor of London, Ontario, a man who needs no introduction, as they say.
In my original post, I called the balance obtained by contacting Fontana an example of faux balance. A more accurate label of what was done might be "she-said-he-said-journalism." How does this work?
Balanced? I am left shaking my head in disbelief.
Did the reporter question the speaker's statements? Did the reporter think the claims being made were simply bold-faced political puffery? Why did the reporter not simply report what was said and move on? Considering the source for the alternate point of view, I really don't know the answer. The reporter consulted Joe Fontana, the present Mayor of London, Ontario, a man who needs no introduction, as they say.
In my original post, I called the balance obtained by contacting Fontana an example of faux balance. A more accurate label of what was done might be "she-said-he-said-journalism." How does this work?
- Take a public statement and create a dispute.
- Conflicts make news; The created dispute will be newsworthy.
- Make no attempt to assess validity of claims, claims which are the very essence of the story.
- The symmetry of two sides provides the necessary faux balance.
Balanced? I am left shaking my head in disbelief.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Faux balance unbalances news stories
Without realizing it, reporter Patrick Maloney made a confession in the daily newspaper. Without grasping the true importance of his words, he admitted that The Free Press committed the common media blunder of faux balance.
It seems that some years ago, feeling the need to balance its coverage of Mayor Anne Marie DeCicco-Best's state of the city address, the daily paper chased down Joe Fontana vacationing out of town in the sunny south. According to Maloney, "Fontana ripped his old rival with unexpected vigour."
Unexpected vigour? Really? Fontana's vitriol-laced words were unexpected? I humbly suggest the newspaper sought out Fontana hoping to get some good quotes, and Fontana delivered.
It is interesting to note that the original story, as posted to the Web, makes no mention that Fontana was chased down by the paper, that he was not even at the event but was instead on vacation. The omission was not for lack of space. Fontana dominates from 40 to 50 percent of the first story, depending upon how one approaches the calculation.
Journalists have forgotten how to report straight-news straight. Faux balance does not add accuracy or objectivity. What it does add is risk, and one of those risks is the risk of being used by the person chosen as a counter-balance. Fontana welcomed the opportunity to grab some front page attention. He criticized his former opponent and took full advantage of the moment to further his own political ambitions.
_________________________________________________________________________
Interesting response to my post. What makes it interesting, at least to me, is that it is but another in a long list of rude reactions from a reporter at The London Free Press, the newspaper at which I worked for thirty some years. While working at the paper I was mainly a staff photographer but I also wrote two weekly columns -- one on photography and another, Celebrating the Thames, on the river that flowing through London.
I have kept the letters and e-mails from these journalists but I don't publish them as the writers usually request that I not publish their thoughts on my blog. I respect their wishes. I have attacked financial advisers and others but the only rude responses I have received are from reporters. Other than reporters, I don't recall anyone else attacking me on a personal level. Some of the reporter e-mails have not only been rude in content but rude in form -- written in screaming solid caps in very large, bold fonts.
I have been disappointed by the responses from professional reporters. When I worked at newspapers I believed journalists had thick skins. And they did back in the '70s when I got into the profession. Not so today.
No one working at the paper should be surprised at the tone of my posts. When I saw stuff with which I didn't agree while working at the paper, I was known to walk into the publisher's office or the editor-in-chief's office and voice my disapproval. I vented, they listened and that was it. I was never able to spur anyone into taking any action. (I believe, if asked, Paul Berton, a former editor-in-chief at the Free Press, would confirm this statement.)
Writing a blog is far more satisfying that making futile noises as an employee at a paper. I have had more than 164,000 hits and the number keeps growing. I vent and someone listens and another and then still another. Right now my most popular post has been hit more than 12,500 times.
If you are a journalism junkie, please read the story that inspired my post: London mayor hints at re-election platform with promise to keep taxes at 1% a year and then read the "balanced" story done at the time of Anne Marie DeCicco-Best's state of the city address: Mayor's race replay?
A writer for The Economist's Democracy in America blog wrote:
Seeing the anger my posts generate, I try to be careful when discussing errors made by local journalists. Still, newspapers are too important to be above criticism. I've decided to be careful but at the same time to be true to myself and to continue to openly discuss my unease with some aspects of how the media operates. An open, free media is a pillar of our way of life.
Discussion is called for, not personal insults.
It seems that some years ago, feeling the need to balance its coverage of Mayor Anne Marie DeCicco-Best's state of the city address, the daily paper chased down Joe Fontana vacationing out of town in the sunny south. According to Maloney, "Fontana ripped his old rival with unexpected vigour."
Unexpected vigour? Really? Fontana's vitriol-laced words were unexpected? I humbly suggest the newspaper sought out Fontana hoping to get some good quotes, and Fontana delivered.
It is interesting to note that the original story, as posted to the Web, makes no mention that Fontana was chased down by the paper, that he was not even at the event but was instead on vacation. The omission was not for lack of space. Fontana dominates from 40 to 50 percent of the first story, depending upon how one approaches the calculation.
Journalists have forgotten how to report straight-news straight. Faux balance does not add accuracy or objectivity. What it does add is risk, and one of those risks is the risk of being used by the person chosen as a counter-balance. Fontana welcomed the opportunity to grab some front page attention. He criticized his former opponent and took full advantage of the moment to further his own political ambitions.
_________________________________________________________________________
 |
| Personal Twitter attack by the reporter who wrote both stories mentioned in the above post. |
Interesting response to my post. What makes it interesting, at least to me, is that it is but another in a long list of rude reactions from a reporter at The London Free Press, the newspaper at which I worked for thirty some years. While working at the paper I was mainly a staff photographer but I also wrote two weekly columns -- one on photography and another, Celebrating the Thames, on the river that flowing through London.
I have kept the letters and e-mails from these journalists but I don't publish them as the writers usually request that I not publish their thoughts on my blog. I respect their wishes. I have attacked financial advisers and others but the only rude responses I have received are from reporters. Other than reporters, I don't recall anyone else attacking me on a personal level. Some of the reporter e-mails have not only been rude in content but rude in form -- written in screaming solid caps in very large, bold fonts.
I have been disappointed by the responses from professional reporters. When I worked at newspapers I believed journalists had thick skins. And they did back in the '70s when I got into the profession. Not so today.
No one working at the paper should be surprised at the tone of my posts. When I saw stuff with which I didn't agree while working at the paper, I was known to walk into the publisher's office or the editor-in-chief's office and voice my disapproval. I vented, they listened and that was it. I was never able to spur anyone into taking any action. (I believe, if asked, Paul Berton, a former editor-in-chief at the Free Press, would confirm this statement.)
Writing a blog is far more satisfying that making futile noises as an employee at a paper. I have had more than 164,000 hits and the number keeps growing. I vent and someone listens and another and then still another. Right now my most popular post has been hit more than 12,500 times.
If you are a journalism junkie, please read the story that inspired my post: London mayor hints at re-election platform with promise to keep taxes at 1% a year and then read the "balanced" story done at the time of Anne Marie DeCicco-Best's state of the city address: Mayor's race replay?
A writer for The Economist's Democracy in America blog wrote:
"Balance is easy and cheap. In political journalism, a vitriolic quote from each side and a punchy headline is all that is needed to feed the news machine."
Seeing the anger my posts generate, I try to be careful when discussing errors made by local journalists. Still, newspapers are too important to be above criticism. I've decided to be careful but at the same time to be true to myself and to continue to openly discuss my unease with some aspects of how the media operates. An open, free media is a pillar of our way of life.
Discussion is called for, not personal insults.
That's not an argument.
I have some friends who like to argue. An evening spent with this group can be expected to deliver at least one example of toe-to-toe of verbal sparring. I'm ashamed to admit that in the past I've been sucked into the maelstrom, but I'm learning to keep my lips buttoned.
I decided to start clamming up after I mentioned that the insulating blinds installed in my kitchen are causing a thick build up of ice to form at the bottom of the windows. The ice, and resulting water, are damaging the wooden sills.
I thought the blinds were an example of an incomplete understanding of how insulation interacts with water vapour in a home. Buildings are facing an increasing number of problems with black mould and I believe the causes are insulation and moisture combined with ignorance.
My statement found no agreement at the table. In fact the fellow beside me said I was failing to credit these new, insulating blinds with delivering great energy savings during hot, summer nights.
Soon I found that no matter what I said I was going to be contradicted. I felt like I was entering the world of Monty Python -- and I was right. I had entered the Argument Clinic.
Part of the pleasure of this sketch is derived from the undeveloped meta-argument put forth. Meta-argument: An argument about an argument.
Embracing the meta-argument position, one soon understands not even getting into an argument in some situations is the rational thing to do. More to the point, arguing strenuously with others whom have all gathered to enjoy a fine dinner is simply bad manners. (I hang my head in shame for my role in the minor dinner table brouhaha.)
Emily Post suggested on try to change the subject the minute a discussion feels like it is escalating into an argument. (Now, how do I get my friends to read this post?)
I thought the blinds were an example of an incomplete understanding of how insulation interacts with water vapour in a home. Buildings are facing an increasing number of problems with black mould and I believe the causes are insulation and moisture combined with ignorance.
My statement found no agreement at the table. In fact the fellow beside me said I was failing to credit these new, insulating blinds with delivering great energy savings during hot, summer nights.
Soon I found that no matter what I said I was going to be contradicted. I felt like I was entering the world of Monty Python -- and I was right. I had entered the Argument Clinic.
Part of the pleasure of this sketch is derived from the undeveloped meta-argument put forth. Meta-argument: An argument about an argument.
Embracing the meta-argument position, one soon understands not even getting into an argument in some situations is the rational thing to do. More to the point, arguing strenuously with others whom have all gathered to enjoy a fine dinner is simply bad manners. (I hang my head in shame for my role in the minor dinner table brouhaha.)
Emily Post suggested on try to change the subject the minute a discussion feels like it is escalating into an argument. (Now, how do I get my friends to read this post?)
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