Society today

Snoopy…Yesterday’s dog? No way!

Posted on by Platypus Man

When we heard that Trentham Gardens were putting on a Snoopy sculpture trail, my initial thought was “Really? Every dog has his day, and Snoopy had his decades ago. Surely it’s only old fogeys like me who even know who he is? Snoopy’s history. He’s yesterday’s dog“. But it turns out I was totally wrong – Snoopy is back on trend.

“Tales for Tails” by Fernandes Makes

Snoopy made his debut in October 1950 in Peanuts, the comic strip creation of American cartoonist Charles M Schulz. Although his owner Charlie Brown was meant to be the strip’s central character, Snoopy quickly became the star of the show. When he wasn’t sleeping flat on his back on top of his kennel, the cute little beagle could be found writing short stories on his typewriter or imagining himself as a World War I flying ace. A kind and caring soul who lived most of his life inside his own head, Snoopy quickly caught the imagination of an adoring public.

“Golden Hound” by Becky Smith

But all good things must come to an end, so it would be no surprise if Snoopy had faded into obscurity by now. And yet, much to my surprise, it seems he’s become fashionable with Generation Z. Social media has breathed new life into an old dog, and Snoopy has become an iconic character on TikTok and Instagram. Who knew? Not me, that’s for sure…TikTok and Instagram are platforms at which my train has never stopped!

“Dreaming of the Mountains” by R P Roberts

Part of Snoopy’s appeal, it seems, is that he is a simple soul who is easily satisfied, a sweet little fantasist who can cope with anything life throws at him so long as his food bowl is full and his kennel is comfy. That makes him a bit of a hero in an increasingly complex, challenging world. So Trentham Gardens’ decision to host the Snoopy sculpture trail is perhaps not as wacky as I first believed.

“Snoopy’s Songbird Chorus” by Laura-Kate Draws

Once the site of a grand country house set in a landscaped park, in recent years the Trentham Estate on the outskirts of Stoke-on-Trent has been redeveloped as a leisure destination. Visitor numbers are the name of the game, so who can blame bosses at Trentham for enlisting Snoopy’s support.

“Fungi House” by Jodie Silverman

There were around a dozen Snoopy sculptures in total. Each featured the famous hound in his iconic pose atop his kennel. Snoopy himself is exactly as portrayed in the Schulz strips, a big-bellied white beagle with a black nose, black ears and a collar, lying on his back and staring wistfully into the sky. No doubt the licensing agreement made it quite clear that Snoopy must be unchanged, and therefore totally recognisable to fans both old and young. Where the artists did have freedom, however, was in how they painted the kennel. And so it was that the kennel became the artists’ canvas, giving them just enough space to let their imaginations run wild.

“Garden of Delights” by Cathy Simpson

Run wild they most certainly did. Mountains, flowers, butterflies and birds all adorn the kennels that we found scattered across Trentham’s gardens. As I’ve said many times before about similar sculpture trails, this is not high art. It won’t win any prizes, but this whimsical riot of colour undoubtedly lifted our spirits. Doing the Snoopy trail was a lot of fun, and don’t we all need some of that in these dark, dark days.

“Tales for Tails” by Fernandes Makes

Did Mr P have a favourite Snoopy, I hear you ask? Yes, I most certainly did! For me, a guy who spent pretty much his whole working life in the book business, the most entertaining of all the sculptures was Tales for Tails by Fernandes Makes. It featured Snoopy’s kennel as a library, enabling us to see what he’s been reading. I just love a good pun, and I love a bad pun even more! Take a look below at some of the titles that I spotted on Snoopy’s library shelves and you’ll see why this latter-day librarian was bowled over by the beagle.

  • Romeo and Drooliet, by William Shakepaw
  • Lord of the Fleas
  • Game of Bones
  • Of Mice and Mastiffs
  • Jurassic Bark
  • Sherlock Bones
  • Fetch 22
  • The Dogfather

Way to go, Snoopy!

At last, a local sculpture trail

Posted on by Platypus Man

Mrs P and I enjoy a colourful sculpture trail. They are plainly not high art, but they’re good fun and raise the spirits at a time when events – both international and here in the UK – are profoundly depressing. We have travelled to various parts of the country in pursuit of these trails, so it was a pleasant surprise when we discovered that our local area was to host its very own trail under the title of Ay Up Me Duck.

“Sunset over Amber Valley” by Rachel &Phillipa Corcutt (on display in Alfreton)

For those who don’t know – and I guess that’s almost everyone who’s never lived in the East Midlands region of the UK – “ay up me duck” is a traditional, casual way of greeting men and women who are your friends, or to whom you feel well disposed. I suppose it’s a bit like saying “hi, how’re you doing”, but it’s unique to this part of the country, and as such is a way of celebrating a shared local identity. Organising a sculpture trail that references this phrase is therefore a good way of reinforcing a positive community spirit, while the body shape of a duck gives ample opportunity for artists to show off their talents.

TOP LEFT: “Ay up, Belper” by Carla Dee (on display in Belper); TOP CENTRE: “Duk n Love” by Oliver Jamin (in Alfreton); TOP RIGHT: “Amber Sun” by Rebecca Grantham (in Ripley); BOTTOM: “Bee-ky” by Lynne Hollingsworth (in Heanor)

The Ay Up Me Duck trail features eight large, colourful ducks prominently displayed in the towns of Belper, Alfreton, Ripley and Heanor (two ducks per town) as well as a host of mini-ducks in shop windows. The large ducks are mostly decorated with images of notable landmarks to be seen in our corner of Derbyshire, as well as some of the wildlife that can be found here. The mini-ducks are more quirky and include one sporting a ceremonial guardsman’s uniform, another that appears to be a strange hybrid of duck and kangaroo, and third dressed up as a pirate. Weird, eh!

Mini-ducks, just a few centimetres tall, seen in shop windows. LEFT: “Guardsman Duck”; CENTRE: “Kangaroo Duck”; RIGHT: “Pirate Duck”.

All the ducks are located in, or very close to, retail areas of the towns involved. As well as boosting civic pride the aim of projects like this is, in part, to encourage more visits to the area in which the sculpture trail is located. This is no bad thing given that all local town centres – except Belper’s – are looking increasingly rundown, thanks to competition from online shopping and out-of-town retail parks.

“Derwent Duck” by Rebecca Mortledge (on display in Belper)

To some degree the trail seemed to be paying dividends, as we saw numerous families ticking off the ducks they’d successfully tracked down on their trail guides. It even persuaded Mrs P and I to visit a couple of places within just a few miles of our home that we’ve not seen for many years. Whether we, or those other families, will go back again after the ducks have been removed is doubtful, but for a few short weeks the Ay Up Me Duck trail is creating a bit of a buzz – or do I mean a quack? – around the Amber Valley district of Derbyshire. It is, I think, a most welcome initiative in these difficult times.

The streets of Birmingham, starring Ozzy Osborne and the Floozie in the Jacuzzi

Posted on by Platypus Man

Wandering through the centre of Birmingham a few weeks ago, we were delighted to encounter The Floozie in the Jacuzzi flaunting her wares seductively in Victoria Square. More properly known as The River, the lovely lady is a bubbling fountain, a landmark popular both with local residents and with visitors to the city like me and Mrs P. She’s definitely a bit of an eyeful.

“The Floozie in the Jacuzzi” (aka “The River”) by Dhruva Mistry

Dhruva Mistry’s sculpture dates back to 1993. It’s said that his water goddess represents the life force, and was conceived as a vehicle for instilling a feeling of ‘peace and safety’ amongst people visiting this busy city centre. The good folk of Birmingham appear to have decided that this explanation is maybe a bit pretentious, and that the The Floozie in the Jacuzzi sums her up a lot better. Who am I to argue?

Another piece of Birmingham’s public art celebrates three men who made important contributions to the development of the steam engine in the late 18th century, and who were therefore key players in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution. James Watt (1736-1819) was an ideas man who came up with various improvements to the basic steam engine, while Matthew Boulton (1728-1809) was a wealthy businessman who provided the funding to put Watt’s ideas into practice. They went into partnership in Birmingham in 1775, and the highly practical William Murdoch (1754-1839) formally joined that partnership in 1810.

“The Golden Boys” (aka “The Carpet Salesmen”) by William Bloye and Raymond Forbes-Kings

The homage to the three princes of steam dates from 1956, and is the work of William Bloye (formerly head of sculpture at Birmingham School of Art) and sculptor Raymond Forbes-Kings. Unsurprisingly, it is known as The Golden Boys. More unexpectedly, however, locally the alternative name for the piece is The Carpet Salesmen, reflecting the fact that the plans for a steam engine that the three men are inspecting looks suspiciously like a bit of carpet. Oh, how I love the cheeky irreverence of Birmingham folk!

Another eye-catching piece of artwork in Birmingham city centre is A Real Birmingham Family, a cast bronze sculpture by award-winning artist Gillian Wearing. The subject matter is unconventional, and features two ordinary local women and their sons. The women are sisters, one of whom is pregnant – her second son was born shortly before the sculpture was unveiled in 2014.

“A Real Birmingham Family” by Gillian Wearing

No review of public art in Birmingham would be complete without reference to bulls. The city’s famous Bull Ring shopping centre is built on a site that was for centuries used for the brutal “sport” of bull-baiting. The practice was outlawed in 1835, but the name continues to be associated with that part of the city and is remembered through Laurence Broderick’s magnificent bronze sculpture. The Bull was installed in 2003, and in my eyes portrays the animal as a noble and powerful beast, rather than as the victim of an appalling blood sport.

“The Bull” by Laurence Broderick

There is of course another equally, if not more famous piece of public art celebrating Birmingham’s connection with bulls. I have written previously about the Raging Bull, which was commissioned to open the Commonwealth Games held in Birmingham in 2023. A couple of years after the games, Raging Bull was relocated to New Street Station, and renamed Ozzy in honour of local heavy metal music hero Ozzy Osborne. We were delighted to see Ozzy in his new location when we visited earlier in the summer, where he was continuing to draw in hordes of admirers.

Ozzy the Bull, star of the Commonwealth Games 2023, now residing at New Street Station

Ozzy Osborne was born in 1948, and grew up in the Aston area of Birmingham. He co-founded the pioneering heavy metal band Black Sabbath, and rose to prominence in the 1970s as their lead vocalist. After being fired by the band in 1979 due to his problems with alcohol and drugs, he began a solo music career and later became a reality television star. Ozzy died in late July 2025. He had remained for decades a much loved son of Birmingham, and it was clear during our visit there shortly after his death that the pain caused by his passing was still raw.

Mural featuring Black Sabbath. Ozzy Osborne is third from the left

Heavy metal music is not really my thing, but one song by Black Sabbath is etched into my memory. Released in 1970, Paranoid is a bitter, gut-wrenching exploration of depression and despair. The lyrics are as follows:

Finished with my woman ’cause
She couldn’t help me with my mind
People think I’m insane because
I am frowning all the time

All day long I think of things
But nothing seems to satisfy
Think I’ll lose my mind
If I don’t find something to pacify

Can you help me
Occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me
The things in life that I can’t find
I can’t see the things that make
True happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh
And you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel
And love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words
Telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life
I wish I could but it’s too late

Source: LyricFind

Ozzy didn’t write the lyrics Paranoid – they were the work of bandmate Geezer Butler – but did create the melody. His early years were very challenging, and Ozzy said later that as a teenager he attempted suicide on multiple occasions. Perhaps this is why his performance as lead vocalist on Paranoid is so powerful. You can listen to Ozzy doing his stuff by clicking on the following YouTube link.

Birmingham lost one of its favourite sons when Ozzy Osborne died on 22 July, just 17 days after what had been billed as his final live performance. He clearly remains close to the heart of the people of his home city, a genuine working class hero. Rest in Peace, Ozzy.

Detail from a poster promoting a summer 2025 exhibition in Birmingham about Ozzy’s solo career

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for rats!

Posted on by Platypus Man

Rats have always had a bad press. When, around 60 years ago, our pet cat gifted my mother a dead rat and expected to be praised for his hunting skills, mum lost it completely, freaking out in a way that I never witnessed at any other point in her life. And when, in the 1932 film Taxi, James Cagney famously addressed Buck Gerrard as “you dirty yellow-bellied rat”, it was not a term of endearment! No one, it seems, thinks highly of rats.

This branch is just a metre above a bird table. Within seconds of this photo being taken, the rat was down and snacking enthusiastically.

Just why is it that rats are so widely loathed and feared? Their perceived connection with disease has a lot to do with it. Rats have long been associated with plague, their fleas being held responsible for the spread of the Black Death that wiped out one third of Europe’s population in the mid-14th century. Except it’s not true, as recent research has shown. The Black Death was mostly spread by human lice and fleas. So if any species deserves to be loathed and feared because of the ravages of the plague, it is presumably us and not the poor old rat!

Rats are also associated with filth – witness Cagney’s reference to a dirty rat. Wrong again! The rat is by instinct a clean critter, and will immediately start to groom itself if its fur gets dirty. Of course, some of the places in which rats hang out are themselves dirty – sewers, rubbish dumps and so on. But hey, we’ve all got to live somewhere, and at least – just like cats – rats work hard to keep themselves clean.

The James Cagney quote also implies that rats are mean, callous animals. But this too is a misconception: research has shown that rats demonstrate emotional intelligence, and are strongly supportive of one another within their social groups.

Historically, rats have also been feared for the threat they pose to human food stocks, particularly grain stores. In the famous German folk-tale, the Pied Piper of Hamelin was hired to deal with just this problem. It is a conflict of interests that is probably less of an issue today thanks to modern bio-secure storage systems, although admittedly that may well not be true in the developing world.

And if rats move on from our grain stores to dine out instead on the take-away food that our species carelessly throws away in the streets, so be it. The solution is simple: don’t buy what you can’t eat, but if you get this wrong then at least dispose of your unwanted fries or burger or kebab somewhere that wandering rats can’t get at it. Scavenging behaviour amongst rats is for them a matter of survival; thoughtless littering by members of our own species is simply a matter of lazy selfishness.

With human food stores no longer available to them, some rats now turn to bird food. The only rats I ever see are grazing on or around bird tables and feeders, nibbling enthusiastically upon the food people have left out for their avian friends. Mrs P’s photos clearly illustrate this behaviour. It upsets some birders, but I regard it as a privilege to be able briefly study an animal that is otherwise largely hidden from me. The rats don’t hang around for long, and the birds are soon back. Everyone’s a winner.

Away from the bird table it is true that rats can be a threat to birds, disturbing nests, driving away parent birds and predating eggs and chicks. The problem is most serious on islands with no history of rodents. On such islands, if rats arrive and become established – normally thanks to the folly of humankind – the effect on seabird colonies can be devastating. In such circumstances the only way to save the birds is to eradicate the rats, a project that is lengthy, laborious and expensive. It can be done, however, as was demonstrated when invasive rats – which had arrived as stowaways on ships – were finally eradicated from Lundy, a small island off the Devon coast in the south of England.

Although their effect on bird colonies cannot be denied, rats can also be beneficial to wildlife. The African Giant Pouched Rat, which is native to the savannahs of southern Africa, can be trained to assist in the prevention of wildlife crime by using its acute sense of smell to detect smuggled ivory, rhino horn and pangolin scales. Cheaper to train than sniffer dogs, and able to operate in spaces that are inaccessible to canines, these so-called “hero rats” are an important new weapon in the war for wildlife. They have also been used elsewhere in other innovative ways, including the detection of landmines and tuberculosis pathogens.

Rats are intelligent animals, more complex than they appear at first glance. They will always be controversial. I hate the devastation they cause in some island seabirds colonies, and accept that their presence in our well-ordered 21st century lives may sometimes be unsettling. But the rats are only doing what comes naturally for them, and from an evolutionary perspective they are doing it rather well. Overall, I would suggest, they are not nearly as bad as popular culture and urban myth would have us believe. And so, ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for rats!

Magpie mythology and internet lies

Posted on by Platypus Man

Magpies are unmistakeable. Members of the crow family, seen from a distance they are long-tailed birds with distinctive black and white plumage. Up close, however, the colouration is more subtle. In the right light a Eurasian magpie’s wing feathers take on a purplish-blue iridescent sheen, while the tail bears hints of a subtle glossy green. It’s a handsome bird, and also – in some circles – a controversial one.

Some people dislike magpies because they are noisy, raucous birds that posture and strut around gardens, parkland and fields, apparently believing themselves to be top bird. Others object to their omnivorous lifestyle, which can include raiding the nests of smaller birds and carrying off their eggs and chicks. And their reputation for stealing jewellery and other bright, shiny objects wins magpies few friends amongst their human neighbours.

However, while their fondness for scavenging and their bully-boy tendencies on the bird table make them unpopular with squeamish bird lovers, it is their alleged association with Satan that upsets others. Yes, that’s right, folklore tells us that magpies are in league with the Devil. According to this tradition, magpies refused to join the other birds in mourning at Christ’s crucifixion, thus marking themselves out as the Devil’s own.

The magpie’s supposed indifference to Jesus’ crucifixion is just one of a huge number of tales and superstitions that surround this striking bird. In the UK, one of the first nursery rhymes many children hear is about magpies. The rhyme references the birds’ association with prophecy, and is found in countless variations up and down the country. Here is just one of them:

One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl 
Four for a boy 
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told

So, according to this piece of folklore, the future that awaits you is indicated by the number of magpies you see. It’s a compelling part of our oral tradition, and I must confess that one day a little over a year ago – when a new baby was expected in our family – Mrs P and I happily counted the number of magpies we could see in order to predict the gender of the new-born. On the day in question we spotted three together in a field, and the baby, when born, was indeed a girl. Spooky!

The same nursery rhyme indicates that spotting a single magpie is a harbinger of bad luck. Again, this belief is deeply embedded within our culture. I clearly remember a former work colleague revealing that, when out for a drive in the countryside, he and his wife would wave vigorously to any lone magpies they spotted, because in so doing they were bidding farewell to ill-luck. 

Alternatively, to dissipate the impending misfortune associated with seeing a single magpie, you should point it out to someone else, presumably on the basis that bad luck shared is bad luck halved. And if there’s nobody else around to take on the burden, the best course of action is to salute the magpie with a cheery ‘’Good morning Mr Magpie, how is your lady wife today?’ in the hope that he will take pity on you!

How did a single magpie become associated with bad luck? One theory is that, as magpies mate for life, seeing one by itself may suggest that its partner has perished. The surviving magpie has therefore suffered bad luck, and associating with it may cause its bad luck to transfer to the observer. However, by asking after the welfare of the lone magpie’s wife you demonstrate your belief that his partner is alive and well, which, if true, means no bad luck awaits you.

As well as waving to a lone magpie, or asking after the health of his wife, there are other ways in which the bad luck might be avoided. These include raising your hat to the bird, spitting three times over your shoulder, blinking rapidly to fool yourself into thinking you’ve seen two magpies rather than one, and flapping your arms about wildly and cawing loudly to mimic the magpie’s missing mate. But be warned: most of these activities, if undertaken in public, are likely to result in ridicule, arrest or an enforced appointment with a psychiatrist.

This post barely scratches the surface of the superstitions surrounding magpies. Variations on the theme include the following:

  • In Scotland, a single magpie seen near a window warns of an impending death. However, in the county of Sussex a magpie perched on a house roof is a good sign, indicating that the roof isn’t about to cave in.
  • In Wales, if you see a magpie moving from left to right when you set off on a journey, that journey will be hazardous.
  • Yorkshire folk associate magpies with witchcraft, and when seeing one (a magpie that is, not a native of Yorkshire!) you should make the sign of the cross to ward off evil spirits.
  • According to tradition in the county of Dorset, if a fisherman sees a magpie before he sets sail he won’t catch any fish that day.
  • In Somerset it is advised that you carry an onion with you at all times to protect you from the bad luck a magpie may bring. (As an aside, while I cannot testify as to the veracity of this advice I will readily admit that during my working life I sometimes kept a bulb of garlic in my office to ward off the accountants. I’m pleased to say it seemed to work!)

Regular readers of my blog will know I have a passion for folk music, and it’s therefore a pleasure to share with you below a link to a song about magpies. The harmonies may be challenging, but the story told is highly relevant to this post. It was written around 50 years ago by a guy called Davey Dodds. The story goes that one day Davey gave an old lady a lift in his new car. Davey was bemused, and probably a little horrified, when the lady insisted on shrieking “Devil, devil, I defy thee”, and spitting on the floor of his Jaguar every time she saw a magpie. 

Intrigued, Davey looked into the mythology of magpies, and this song is the result. Its lyrics* reference some of the magpie superstitions I’ve written about in this post, and others that I haven’t had space to include. This version on YouTube was recorded in 2014 by a trio of singers called the BlueBirds.

At first glance, magpie mythology is totally out of place in our rational, comfortable, well ordered 21st century lives. I mean, it’s all a load of nonsense, isn’t it? Of course it is! But on the other hand, the mere fact that humans embraced these stories for millennia tells us a lot about our species. Our ancestors believed that magpies were the Devil’s disciples. Gullible, weren’t they?

Today, large sections of society enthusiastically embrace the conspiracy theories and other vile lies peddled relentlessly on the internet. Their need to feel good about themselves, their quest for certainty and their desperate desire for simple answers to complex questions leads them to believe stuff that is patently ridiculous, often downright dangerous and occasionally evil. Gullible, aren’t we?

* * * * * * *

* The complete lyrics to Davey Dodds’ song are as follows

Chorus (after every other verse)
One for sorrow, two for joy,
Three for a girl and for for a boy,
Five for silver, six for gold,
Seven for a secret never told,
Devil, devil, I defy thee.
Devil, devil, I defy thee.
Devil, devil, I defy thee.

Oh, the magpie brings us tidings
Of news both fair and foul;
She's more cunning than the raven,
More wise than any owl.

For she brings us news of the harvest
Of the barley, wheat and corn.
And she knows when we'll go to our graves
And how we shall be born.

She brings us joy when from the right,
Grief when from the left.
Of all the news that's in the air
We know to trust her best.

For she sees us at our labour,
And mocks us at our work.
And she steals the egg from out of the nest,
And she can mob the hawk.

The priest, he says we're wicked
To worship the devil's bird.
Ah, but we respect the old ways
And we disregard his word.

For we know they rest uneasy
As we slumber in the night.
And we'll always leave a little bit of meat
For the bird that's black and white.

St Magnus Cathedral and Orkney’s turbulent Viking spirit

Posted on by Platypus Man

Set in the heart of Kirkwall, St Magnus Cathedral dominates the skyline of Orkney’s biggest town. Built from distinctive red and yellow sandstone, construction began in 1137, with major additions following in the early 13th and late 14th centuries. Its foundation reflects Orkney’s turbulent Viking spirit.

At the time, Orkney was ruled, and largely inhabited, by Scandinavians. Norsemen first came to Orkney in the late 7th century, and the number of arrivals rose rapidly over the next 100 years.  Some came to farm, while others simply used the Orkney islands as a base from which to launch Viking raids on other coastal communities in Scotland and beyond.

By the early 12th century Orkney was part of the kingdom of Norway, ruled on behalf of its king by joint earls Magnus Erlendsson and his cousin Haakon Paulsson. This arrangement worked well for several years, until their followers began to quarrel. In 1118 Magnus was captured and executed by Haakon’s men.

After a few years Magnus was canonised, making him a saint of the Roman Catholic church. In 1137, Magnus’s nephew Rognvald commissioned a ‘fine minster’ to be built at Kirkwall in honour of his late uncle. Magnus’s remains were later re-interred in one of the columns of the cathedral, and lie there to this day.

St Magnus Cathedral is a striking achievement, a fine building in the Romanesque style with later Gothic embellishments, and boasting particularly fine vaulting in the nave. It is one of the oldest cathedrals in Scotland, and the most northerly in the whole of the United Kingdom. But perhaps not for much longer! Many residents of Orkney, particularly their leaders, believe their island home has been unfairly treated by both the UK and Scottish governments. They are calling for more autonomy.

One idea under consideration is that Orkney, which has a population of just 22,000, should quit the UK – and therefore Scotland – altogether, and become a self-governing territory of Norway! To be honest, even if a majority of Orcadians voted in favour I think it’s highly unlikely the British government would ever allow this to happen.

However, that such an audacious proposal has been voiced at all is an indication that feelings are running high. Orkney’s turbulent Viking spirit clearly survives to this day. But St Magnus himself was known as a pious man, a man of peace, hope and reconciliation, someone who prayed for the souls of the men about to execute him. I wonder how he would feel about these extraordinary developments?

Getting weapons off the streets – the Manchester Anti-Violence Bee Monument

Posted on by Platypus Man

It’s a jungle out there. Living in a secure property on a comfortable middle class estate in a quiet Derbyshire town, it’s easy to forget the dangers of gun and knife crime. But only if you throw your television, radio, mobile phone and laptop out into the street, and lock yourself away from modern Britain. The news media revels in crime stories, even in the festive season, so its no surprise that the recent murders of Elle Edwards (shot in a pub in Wallasey on Christmas Eve) and Cody Fisher (stabbed in a Birmingham nightclub on Boxing Day) got massive coverage.

The Manchester Anti-Violence Bee Monument – parked up for the day outside a local filling station and café

Don’t get me wrong, it could be much worse. The murder rate per 100,000 people in the US is more than four times that in the UK (2018, extrapolated from data quoted in the World Population Review). Maybe that reflects, in part, the fact that in this country there is no constitutional right to bear arms (of course, we have no written constitution at all, but that’s another story altogether!) Our laws surrounding the carrying of weapons are strict, and I for one am enormously grateful for that.

But the law isn’t much of a deterrent or an obstacle to those who don’t respect it in the first place. There’s no shortage of weapons to be had in this country, so long as you know where to look. We urgently need to get them off our streets. With this in mind, Greater Manchester Police have committed to an ongoing amnesty project. It seeks to encourage holders of such weapons to surrender them voluntarily.

Some of the weapons collected have been used to create an anti-violence monument for the city. The monument takes the form of a giant bee, and is made out of literally hundreds of knives and firearms surrendered during the “Forever Amnesty” project. The artwork visited a local town near us a few weeks ago, so Mrs P and I popped along to where it was parked up to take a look.

The artists behind the Bee Monument are from the British Ironworks Centre, where the stunning Knife Angel was also created. It’s hard not to find the Monument both enormously impressive and seriously alarming. On the one hand it is magically eye-catching, bristling with glinting knives and glowing with well-oiled firearms. But on the other hand, I would never have believed there were so many deadly weapons in Manchester…which I guess shows just how innocent I am! And I wonder how many more are still out there, primed and ready for use by people with malice in their minds?

Seriously alarming…or a symbol of hope?

The Bee Monument is a splendid sculpture which does a decent job in raising awareness about the scale of the problem. But maybe, also, it’s a symbol of hope, showing that – with commitment and creativity – objects so profoundly ugly as weapons of death can be re-cast into a thing of beauty.

What energy crisis? Dinosaurs light up Yorkshire Wildlife Park

Posted on by Platypus Man

While Brits will know it only too well, overseas readers may be unaware that – due to the knock-on effects of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine – the UK is in the middle of an energy crisis. Prices have gone through the roof, and we are warned that energy rationing, through a rolling programme of power cuts, is a real possibility if there is a prolonged cold snap later this winter.

Everyone is being urged to be energy aware, and to cut down on power consumption if at all possible. But you’d never know that there was any problem at all, if you were basing your opinion on the Festival of Lights and Lanterns at Yorkshire Wildlife Park (YWP).

As I’ve written before, I have some reservations about keeping wild creatures in captivity (don’t we all?), but YWP seems OK. The animals are plainly well cared for, with plenty of space to roam. Importantly, the Park supports a number of conservation initiatives to breed highly endangered species in captivity, and seeks to educate visitors about their plight. But conservation costs money, so managers are happy to embrace initiatives that will attract paying members of the public through the gates. And what better way, at this festive time of year, than to flood the place with countless coloured lights?

We went to last year’s Festival of Lights and Lanterns, and had a great evening. It’s not the most obvious way to celebrate Christmas, but it worked for me and countless others too. Giant, glowing coloured lanterns were distributed throughout the Park, representing some of the critters living there, including polar bears, tigers, giraffes and okapi, and a few others that just wouldn’t feel quite at home, such as whales! There were even a few dinosaurs, poignant reminders of the world we have lost.

The regular critters – tigers, giraffes and the like – were back in force for this winter’s Festival. It was good to see these old friends, and also pleasing to note that last year’s favourites had been recycled and not simply trashed. But the big change, for the 2022/23 season, was in the population of dinosaurs, which seems to have exploded over the last few months!

And don’t the visitors love them, T-Rex and Triceratops, and all their brutish buddies? Children looked on in awe, and adults lapped it up too, a welcome opportunity to escape – if only for an hour or two – the stresses and strains of life in the UK at the end of 2022. Just for a short while it was possible to forget the energy crisis, and bathe irresponsibly in the light of a thousand colourful lanterns. But spare a thought, if you will, for YWP’s Director of Finance…he may be in for a few sleepless night when the Park’s next electricity bill arrives!