Is it cruel to keep ballet dancers in captivity? That's the question that will be discussed this weekend at a symposium set up by the World Wildlife Fund. Those against argue that ballet dancers need the wild wide open spaces of the savannah to properly flourish and practice their entrechats. Those in favour of continuing the practice believe that it is necessary to ensure the survival of these frail and delicate creatures.
It is believed that ballet dancers no longer exist in the wild, their natural habitats having been overrun by lions and tigers, which are traditionally faster, more aggressive and have sharper teeth than anything in a leotard. Furthermore, previous attempts to reintroduce them back into the wild have ended in disaster, with the ballet dancers usually ending up being done over by monkeys.
However, it should be noted that such objections did not impede a successful programme to release mime artists from captivity in 1998, but it remains to be seen whether any useful comparisons can be drawn.
In recent years the UK has seen a shocking rise in the use of food banks by people who simply don't have the means to feed themselves. Although food bank use continues to rise at a time when welfare budgets are being slashed, the government maintains that there is no link. We spoke to David Chumbly, MP for Waitrose, in the hope that he might shed some light on the government's position.
UBO: Mr Chumbly, many thanks for coming in today. A leading food bank has just announced a 51% rise in the number of clients. That's quite startling news, isn't it?
Chumbly: It certainly is, but I think it's a clear demonstration that government policy appears to be working. In the face of considerable criticism we have maintained that our austerity measures are the way forward, and I'm pleased that this announcement has now borne that out.
UBO: You think that food bank growth is a good thing?
Chumbly: All growth is good, as long as it isn't allowed to get out of hand. We want to avoid the boom and bust economies of old. But in this case we have an industry that didn't really exist when we came to power, and yet under this government it has grown steadily, in a sustainable way, to the point where it is now a significant sector of the UK economy. Well done to everyone concerned, that's what I say.
UBO: Mr Chumbly, I don't think you fully understand what a food bank actually is. If you had ever had call to use one -
Chumbly: Oh, I have.
UBO: You have?
Chumbly: Certainly I have. I deposited a tin of peas in my local branch several years ago, and in that time I have seen my investment grow to three tins of carrots and a bag of sprouts.
UBO: That's outrageous!
Chumbly: I know, it is rather impressive, isn't it? Of course, it's taxable and I have had to declare it on the Register of Members' Interests. Nevertheless, it's not to be sneered at and that is why there has been such interest from overseas. Britain is now the number one destination for foreign investors who are looking for a good return on a spare packet of soup or a box a cereal. However, I do understand your concerns.
UBO: You do? Well, I'm glad to hear it.
Chumbly: Yes of course. The issue of food bankers' bonuses is a contentious one. Certainly, on one hand you have to recognise that huge payouts are damaging the reputation of the industry, but then if the sector is to retain talent it has to be suitably rewarded. There is a fine line between regulating and stifling the market. Take the PPI scandal, for instance.
Chumbly: Parsnip Protection Insurance. Now the previous government got that badly wrong and now food banks have had to set aside whole greenhouses just to meet the demands for compensation. You see?
UBO: Yes... No, not really. Mr Chumbly, are you sure we're talking about the same thing? We're discussing the shameful rise in the need for food banks. One of your colleagues recently stated that this increase was due to extra food banks being opened. But surely that is nonsense? Your government can't honestly believe that more food banks leads to greater demand?
Chumbly: Well, this thinking is consistent with government policy.
UBO: But isn't that getting the laws of supply and demand the wrong way round? It's like saying that opening more factories increases the demand for a product. Or that forcing more people onto the labour market increases the number of jobs.
Chumbly: Yes, well, as I say - this thinking is entirely consistent with government policy.
UBO: Mr Chumbly, thank you for your time.
Chumbly: A pleasure. The invoice is in the post.
The envelope on which composer John Cage scribbled the first draft of one of his most famous works has been withdrawn from auction following doubts about its authenticity. The envelope - manila, measuring approximately six inches by nine and entirely blank - was believed to have contained the original outline for 4'33", Cage's notorious silent composition. But experts have now expressed concern after being unable to confirm that the lack of handwriting belongs to the late tunesmith.
This marks the second controversy to mark the auction house in the last few weeks. Only last month the sale of a sheet of blank A4 paper had to be halted after authorities failed to confirm that it was the original cover design for The Beatles' 'White Album'.
Today marks the anniversary of the birth of the fourteenth century monk St Thomas Aplenty, originator of over six hundred collective nouns. If you have ever used phrases such as 'a pride of lions', 'a gaggle of geese' or 'a packet of crisps', then you have much to thank St Thomas for. Most of this venerable linguistic pioneer's work has, sadly, fallen out of use, meaning that today we rarely hear expressions such as 'a briefcase of parrots', 'a disappointment of anglers' or 'a load of cobblers'.
It's equally lamentable that St Thomas's contribution to the English language was not recognised within his own lifetime. In fact, he led a somewhat wretched existence which was tragically cut short at the age of thirty-three when, during a stroll through the grounds of the monastery, he was startled by a bucket of ravens, pursued by an invoice of frogs and ultimately torn to pieces by an apprehension of rabbits.
Anyone who grew up in the seventies will be familiar with Pop Rocks, or Space Dust as it was alternatively called in some markets - a sugary candy which pops and crackles when consumed and was sold in several colours, flavours and volumes. Urban legend had it that if you ate three packets in quick succession then held your mouth and nose shut, your eyes would pop out. This, of course, is nonsense, as any schoolboy worth his salt would tell you after thoroughly testing the theory behind the science block, on the fat kid from 4b.
What isn't generally known is that the confectionary was first developed by Dr Allen Stropp, a rocket scientist working at NASA, who proposed it as an alternative fuel source. In initial tests it proved to be remarkably potent but, since it could only be activated by saliva, each launch required someone to go around licking rocket motors. Most people felt that this was just a little too weird.
Dr Stropp subsequently left NASA in a huff and nothing is known about his current whereabouts, although stories that he flew to Venus on a sherbet fountain have since been mostly discredited.
Send us your suggestions for a comical caption to this picture and earn our undying respect
"Going round the world by elastic..."
Rise of the machines
Nuns don't grow on trees
Spring clean your chakras
Quality beards for busy professionals
Stealing horses to order
"We might see the major land masses becoming so squishy..."
"Top class swanky restaurants..."
Last week saw the conviction of Coco Corelli, the former circus clown whose secret life as an international hitman turned him into one of the world's most notorious criminals. During a career spanning almost twenty years, Coco 'rubbed out' over two hundred victims, despatching each in his trademark comedy fashion. His favourite method was to drop a piano on them from an upstairs window, although he was not averse to improvising with banana skins or buckets of acid, cunningly disguised as custard. In 1992 he is rumoured to have despatched a high ranking member of the Indonesian government with a steel tipped revolving bow tie, and a year later he assassinated an Australian businessman with a lethal jet of burning napalm from the flower in his lapel. His final victim was fired from a cannon mounted on top of a London office block; his corpse landed in the middle of Oxford Street, without the aid of a safety net. Coco made his escape by bicycle, over a tightrope slung across to the adjacent building. Then, after floating down to street level by means of a colourfully decorated umbrella, he jumped in a waiting car to make his getaway. However, after just three hundred yards the wheels collapsed, the doors flew off and the car came to a sudden halt with a series of comedy clanks and springing noises, allowing police to swoop in and make the arrest.
"...landing a man on the moon, shaving it, and returning him safely to Earth......"
"The world's fattest man suffered a fatal earthquake in the early hours of the morning..."
"The caverns were closed to the public for their annual hosing down..."
"You're a miserable old sourpuss..."more...
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