The problems with being Tesla

Last November, while my diesel car was in intensive care for a few weeks, I decided to buy an electric car.  Since I wanted the best one, I bought a Tesla Model 3. It’s comfortable, accelerates majestically and is cheap to run. For the next few months I expect to spend approximately nothing on charging it as it will draw electricity from my solar panels. What’s not to like?

Quite a lot, actually.

Let’s start with that majestic acceleration.

After we bought the Tesla, my wife was driving home.  As she approached an intersection, the traffic light changed to amber just at that point where you can’t stop but feel guilty going through.  My wife gave the accelerator a tap.  The result was dramatic. My eyeballs bounced off the back of my skull and we experienced time dilation as the car accelerated to a significant portion of the speed of light.  Fortunately we slowed down just as quickly and so managed to avoid rear-ending the car that moments earlier had been half a mile ahead of us.

Let’s be honest: 99.9% of people have no need for such power. It’s foolish. Indeed it’s arguably dangerous.  We have now set the Tesla to Chill mode, which reduces acceleration from “crazy” to fast.

Let’s see. What next? The view from the driver’s seat is pretty good, except for the A-pillar which is pretty fat; indeed fat enough to obscure a bicycle or small car. So approaching an intersection or roundabout I find myself moving my head from side to side trying to ensure I’m not about to hit someone. My wife calls me Noddy.

The Tesla’s Autopilot is a limited but quite capable self-driving system. Once you’ve set it going you have to hold the steering wheel with a certain amount of turning force. If you don’t turn hard enough it disengages. If you hold too hard it disengages. So on the few occasions I have tried using it, I’ve got the beginnings of RSI (repetitive strain injury) from maintaining the pressure and MSI (mental strain injury) from worrying I am going to turn too hard, disengaging Autopilot and send me careering into the next lane in the highway. End result? I never use this expensive feature.

Twenty years ago I bought my first car with automatic windscreen wipers. They worked well.  I cannot understand why Tesla’s auto wipers are so poor: either not working in moderate rain or going too fast when there’s the lightest of drizzle.

Then there’s that gorgeous display. It really is excellent, bar two issues.  First a lot of the information can be seen only by moving your eyes quite some distance off the road. It would really make sense to have a second, smaller screen where cars traditionally have their instrument cluster - behind the steering wheel. I thought I had had a brilliantly creative idea until I looked at my son’s Tesla Model X and saw that it does have exactly this second screen. Why not on the model 3, too? And then a niggle: from time to time my wife has Google Maps running while we are driving and, on occasion, Google Maps finds a faster route.

So, is the Tesla Model 3 a dud?

No.

I do love its smooth strong acceleration - great for getting onto motorways.  The seats are the most comfortable I've ever sat on anywhere.  As I have a bad back, that's a big plus.  I like being able to charge for free from my solar panels or, when the sun isn't shining, using cheap electricity in the wee early hours of the morning.  The boot is a very good size indeed.

So my happiness is three stars out of five, which is not bad but I had really hoped for 5/5.

Why Remainers should want a "No Deal" Brexit Option

Let me start off by saying I voted Remain in the Brexit referendum.  My opinion has not changed, although today I have some reservations that I did not have in 2016.

Despite this, I think the government negotiating the terms of our future relationship with the EU should retain "No Deal" as an option.

The logic for this is the same as the logic behind the nuclear MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction) doctrine: it is only by your opponent knowing that they might suffer severe consequences that you can avoid these yourself.  Opponents of No Deal, who rightly point out it would have severe consequences for the UK, are simply showing their naivety in how negotiations are conducted.

In short, taking "No Deal" off the table guarantees a poor deal for the UK.  Who wants that?

Learning to Babysit

I was hugging my beloved eleven month old grandson and enjoying the experience when he pushed away from me and dived over the arm of the sofa, head first.  I managed to successfully grab him by the sock.  Hold on.  Delete "successfully".  I managed to grab him by the sock but I cannot recommend this as an effective means of stopping your favourite grandson from plummeting to certain death.

Fortunately his maternal grandmother, showing a burst of speed that I had previously only observed in Olympic sprinters and dexterity that would do a circus acrobat proud, had crossed the room in a fraction of a second and grabbed him by the trousers as his head disappeared over the armrest.  I am pleased to report this was more successful, up to a point.  It certainly stopped him from braining himself.

However, the whole experience was just so much fun that he did it again, with mirthful laughter.  He didn't quite say "More!", possibly because at the age of eleven months he has not yet mastered the full richness of the English tongue, but more is what he wanted.  What had been a heart-stopping moment for us had become an exciting game for him.

It was time for distraction.  We got him down to ground level - always safer - and showed him how to stack thingummies.  You know what I mean: these small bucket-shaped bits of plastic that can either all fit inside each other or can stack up to the perfect height for a toddler to knock down with one swing of his hand.  These toys are near-useless.  They require about a minute of grandparent time to assemble and a second of toddler time to demolish.

So we put him on the rocking-horse.  This is a toddler-sized rocking horse with wooden railings around the seat to make it safe.  He hasn't yet fully mastered the art of rocking, so I gave him his bunny.  I should explain that this isn't some kind of mystic bunny that would magically instil in him the necessary knowledge and physical co-ordination to enable him to make the horse rock.  It is rather a fairly tired-looking blue bunny which he typically interacts with by shoving it in his mouth and chewing.  It is his favourite toy and I thought it would save him from feeling inadequate while sitting motionless on the rocking horse.

He then did the old toddler trick of Checking If Gravity Is Still Working.  Bunny landed head-first on the floor and neither granny nor grandad sprang to catch him, probably because he doesn't have any brains to knock out.  However, I did slowly move my hand towards bunny, possibly because I was a little tired.  Grandson thought it was hilarious and infectious giggles bubbled from his lips.  I picked up bunny and offered it to grandson, pulling it away just as he was about to take it.  He laughed even harder.  (As a word of caution to the reader: this is really funny only the first time you snatch the toy away.  The second time provokes no laughter and the third brings tears.). I then passed over bunny, secure in the knowledge that grandson would now hold on to it tightly to stop me getting it.

He dropped bunny again.  Yes, yes, yes, gravity was still working.  My hand gently stole towards this used-to-be-blue saliva-ridden toy.  Laughter bubbled forth.  I raised it towards his hands and then snatched it away.  He chortled.  I passed it over and within seconds he was testing gravity again.

I might still have been there had it not been time for his Afternoon Nap.  I have an absolutely charming daughter-in-law who has never spoken to me with anything but kindness and yet I somehow deeply feared her returning from her outing and finding her first-born had not yet had his sleep.

Being a grandad I am not particularly competent with anything under about twenty five years of age, preferably older, so I thought the logical way for my grandson to have a nap was for me to put him in his cot.  I did this and within a couple of seconds the most piteous cries were emanating from his general direction.  His big eyes were full of tears and his lower lip was trembling.  I knew from the strict instructions that he is not to be picked up at nap time, so I picked him up and cuddled him.

Five minutes later he was asleep.  I gently placed him in the cot and tip-toed away.  Shortly thereafter my much-loved daughter-in-law arrived and was pleased to hear that her son was asleep.  I stole away from the house before she could ask too many searching questions.

Well trained

"Hello" smiled the conductor, stepping off the "down" train. "The sleeper train is running two hours late."

We had just spent 30 minutes driving at high speed along narrow country lanes on the edge of Loch Rannoch to Rannoch Station, ten miles down a dead end road.

Oh, dear, the four of us thought. Some of us may have thought stronger words than that.  Rannoch Station consists, in round numbers, of three buildings. It's not so much a hamlet as a hamlet's baby brother. There's a tea room and a visitors' centre, which is very interesting for ten minutes. If you are a slow reader.

"What you should do", said the lady conductor, "is get on the down train with me. We'll go down three stops to Crian Larich, get off the train and then catch the up train thirty minutes later."

We looked at her doubtfully.  Did we want to spent 90 unnecessary minutes sitting on a train? On the other hand, did we want to spend two hours at the remotest train station in the Civilised World?

"Come on", she said persuasively, with a charming smile. "I won't charge you." 

All this time the train was waiting patiently on the platform, so we got on.

My word, what a treat! The journey took us across vast moors. At times, the railway line clung to the edge of a mountain, before descending - almost always descending - into forests and across bridges spanning rivers, streams and brooks.  It was sheer delight, and our conductor gave us a smile as she went past checking tickets.

The cheerful trolley lady, Tina, came by and served us tea and coffee.  Properly, including giving Colleen a spare cup for her tea bag.  The little touches matter, don't they?  We mentioned how kind Suzie had been and Tina said "Well, we couldn't just leave you waiting on the platform for two hours, could we?"  I thought that pretty much any conductor in the South of the UK would have done so.

Too soon we were at Crian Larich and dismounted.

We toured the village in twenty minutes and returned to join the "up" train.

There was Suzie, the current holder of the Guinness Book of Records title for friendliest train conductor.  There was the train. Shortly thereafter, there was the magnificent view again. Forty minutes later, as we pulled into the station from which we had started, she came around and sold us tickets for the remaining leg to Carour. We'd had two hours' viewing of the Western Highlands for free.

Thereafter we walked eleven miles across moor and mountain and, of fountains, not a few until we arrived for the third time that day at Rannoch Station.

A quick drive back to our lodge, a quick shower, a quick meal and then a two hour talk on effective and painful ways of killing your enemy, interleaved with a "How to tie your kilt" session.

A memorable day, well-spent. Or perhaps I should write "well-conducted."

Electric cars - Not Yet

I feel virtuous, at least environmentally.

I have solar panels on my home.  I walk on any short trip (a couple of miles or less).  I recycle assiduously.  I have a car that does outstanding mpg.  I have a compost heap.  Yet I don't expect to buy an electric car for some time, despite the excitement in the area and my eco-worthiness.

Here's why.

Price

There's currently no denying that, compared to a petrol engined car, electric cars are expensive.

Take the Renault Zoe.  The entry-level model starts at £14,425, about £2,000 more than the Renault Clio which it resembles.  But - and it's a big but - you also have to pay £60 a month in battery hire or buy a battery that adds £6,000 or more to the price.  So that's really comparing a price of £12,500 for the petrol car against almost £20,000 for the electric one.

VW haven't yet announced their new electric Golf, but the new Golf SE starts at about £19,000 whereas the hybrid starts at over £30,000.

The BMW i3 which is, to put it politely, small starts at £33,000, whereas the BMW 1 series starts at £21,000.  The i3 claims to be an electric car but has a "range extender", also known as a petrol engine.  It's also ugly by which I mean seriously challenged in the visual attractiveness stakes.

A Tesla Model S or X (which evokes immense techno-lust in me) will cost over £100,000 once you add in the features you want, such as decent paint and automation.

And all these prices are after applying the government of 35% of price (with a maximum of £4,500).

Range Anxiety

There's also the problem that electric cars don't have anywhere near the range of petrol and especially diesel cars.  I regularly do 600 miles / 1,000 km between fill-ups in my diesel Golf.  Most electric cars do about 100 miles.  So when going on any kind of journey, I'm going to be anxiously watching how much range I have left and calculating whether I can make the next charging point.

Those charging points are still quite scattered, so on your journey you may need to make a dog-leg diversions to "fill up".

Finally, while charging at home is easy for me in my detached house, it's not so easy for those millions of people who live in terraced homes.

Now, I know there are a few electric cars that can claim over 200 miles between charges, mainly Tesla models.  But while the "entry level" Tesla Model 3 can theoretically do 215 miles between charges, that's more likely to be 150 in real motoring conditions and the entry price is $35,000, which will probably translate to around £35,000 in the UK.

Conclusion

They will certainly allow you to feel good about yourself but for the moment electric cars are short-ranged and expensive.  Who will buy them?  Mainly the virtue signallers and the moderately wealthy, at least for another five years.

So don't believe the hype.  Longer range and less expensive electric cars will come but you'll be paying a stiff premium to go electric if you do so in the next few years.

Is FaceBook anti-Semitic?

This may seem an extraordinary question to ask.  Indeed, the CEO, Mark Zuckerburg, comes from a Jewish background.  But ...

A few days ago, I saw a post on Facebook that I thought belonged to the lunatic fringe.  A screen capture is reproduced below:

(In the interests of full disclosure, let me say I have made two minor edits to this picture.  I deleted the name of the blog that contains the original claim and I have edited out the name of a friend to whom the FaceBook post was addressed.)

This kind of view - "It's True: International Jew Bankers Were Behind WWII" - is both lunatic fringe and clearly intended to spur up hatred against Jewish people.  It's a view that has been debunked thoroughly.  The named authors, Stephen Goodson and David Irving, have promoted Holocaust denial.

So I complained about the post to FaceBook, expecting it to be taken down.

I was therefore staggered today to receive the following reply from Facebook today.

Apparently anti-Semitic speech does not contravene FaceBook community standards.  This is not a question of "balance" or "free speech".  This is condoning the views that, 80 years ago, led to the Holocaust in the first place.

Is this really what FaceBook intends with its Community Standards?

Unofficial Rules of FaceBook

1. Too Good to be True
   
   WOW! Because it's their 55th birthday, [fill in name of grocery chain here] is giving away vouchers with £60!  It even includes a bar code so it must be legitimate!
   
   
   
   Really?  This retail chain has seriously decided to commit financial suicide by giving one billion people a voucher for tens of pounds of stuff?  More likely a scammer is using this as a way to con you out of your personal details, bank account info and more.
   
   If something seems to be too good to be true, it's worth checking out on Snopes or Hoax Slayer before doing anything, especially something like posting it on Facebook.


2. Just Wow - I never knew that!
   
   Probably because it isn't true.  See the photo below - just goes to show climate change is b/s, right?
   
   
   
   This comes squarely into the area of confirmation bias.  You have strong views in one area and someone tells you something that just "proves" to all those doubters that you're right.  Once again, Snopes is your friend.


3. The Sky is Falling
   
   This is typically a doomsday post.  This is also typically a hoax.  If something seems to be too bad to be true, it probably isn't.  Here is an example: there is, apparently, an Oriental conspiracy to kill you with vaccines.  S-u-r-e ...
   


4. Moral Blackmail / Controlling Behaviour
   
   A friend's mother, who was a beautiful person, has just recovered from (or, worse, not recovered from) a dreadful disease.
   
   That's sad.
   
   What follows is sadder: a bit of moral blackmail and quite extraordinary controlling behaviour. You are expected to copy and paste (not just repost) your friend's post.  This may be accompanied by a threat along the following lines "My true friends will do this.  I know who they are and I'll be watching."
   
   People, there are a million good causes out there.  Feel free to share yours but don't expect all your friends to adopt them.  And don't, ever, threaten someone who is your friend, or they won't be.


5. Press 9 and see what happens
   
   This is a "curiosity killed the cat" post.  You're the cat.
   
   
   
   
   What's happening here is that someone wants to hoover up lots of FaceBook userids, perhaps to target ads at you (or worse).  So they rely on you to put yourself on their list: by clicking "Like" or typing something.
   
   Needless to say, nothing happens to the picture when you do this.  You just set yourself up to get more junk or scamming.

Have any others that are your favourites?  Let me know and I'll post them here!

Pretty City on the Hills

In the 1970s, Air Rhodesia included venerable  Dakota DC-3 aircraft in its fleet. Due to the way they flew in tropical heat, they were often called Vomit Comets.  This memory surfaced as we crossed the Bay of Biscay on Wednesday and Thursday. I wondered whether the ship was coming apart.  I tried to estimate the quickest way to the outside, while wearing my life belt and then did variations assuming the ship was on its side or upside down.

It was not a Pleasant Experience.

However, it was finite and today we pulled into Lisbon.

Thanks to a friend who is a BP, we had recommendations on where to go and shortly after breakfast off we went.  The hills are quite steep, so I was pleased when we got to a church.  I like photographing churches, especially when the alternative is climbing steep hills. However, this church was filled with self importance and had banned photography, so I had to walk again.

In due course we came across the Castle. The entry fee was a urorisingly modest €8.50 each so we coughed up and toddled in.  This place is well worth a visit, if only to give you an idea of the vertigo that people in the Medieval Ages must have had to endure.  Apparently it goes back even further than that, to 700 BC. A very pretty and interesting castle indeed.

Thereafter, the Dearly Beloved said she fancied a stroll to the Botanical Gardens so off we wandered. About two miles - let's say three kilometres - there we were.  Almost.  They were "closed for renovations".

It didn't matter. Lisbon is such a pretty city we had thoroughly enjoyed the walk, although it is a touch hilly. Little alleyways, parks and beautiful views everywhere.  I wish we were staying another day or two but time and the cruise ship wait for no man.

Life on the Ocean - wave!

Well, I thought, for a holiday why not get on a cruise ship around the Canary Islands?

Mrs H agreed with alacrity, which is always a warning sign.  I should have pulled back at that point but in my naive enthusiasm I went ahead and booked a tour which included flights to and from the Canaries and a couple of weeks cruising around the islands.  In February, that would make for bliss, getting away from soggy England and relatively warm climes.

What could go wrong?

Well, for one thing, the cruise company could go under.  No only could, but did.  Fortunately, in the UK we have this wonderful thing where if you've paid for something on credit card and it doesn't get delivered the credit card company gives you a full refund, which they promptly did.

So we had two weeks of Colleen's leave which had to be taken by the end of March or lost.

At that moment, another cruise company popped up and offered a 25% discount to people who had been let down by the first company.  We have signed up, and tomorrow we board a ship called the Balmoral at Southampton for a cruise to Lisbon, Agadir (Morocco), Casablanca (still Morocco), Gibraltar (UK), Cadiz, Malaga and other sundry ports.

All will be well.

Except, three weeks ago, a friend mentioned that getting there involves crossing in notorious Bay of Biscay.  A low pressure system is due there on Thursday, as we arrive.  I can't see us playing shuffleboard in that.  Or deck quoits.  Or happily sipping afternoon tea.  Playing bridge. Swimming in the pool.

If we survive this, I will engage in further correspondence.

Step away from the f-word ...

I was minding my own business this morning, grazing peacefully on a piece of toast and between bites sipping the one caffeinated coffee that I have every morning, when my wife Declared War.

"I was watching the news earlier", she said "and they were talking about how there are similarities between Donald Trump and Idi Amin."

Now I am far from being a fan of Donald Trump, but this utter hyperbole made me see red.

"What a load of bullshit!" I replied heatedly.  "Did he come to power in a military coup?"

I was about to list a dozen other major points of difference when my younger son (who was also present) felt he should butt in.

"The problem with these kinds of conversations is that they are toxic", he replied.  "One person calls Trump a fascist [today's f-word] and Trump's opponents start gleefully listing in their minds the similarities to Hitler while people who support Trump start making mental lists of why the claim is obviously wrong.  As a result, nothing that's actually worthwhile gets discussed."

Hm.  You know what?  Despite the fact that my younger son was lecturing his parents (especially the one male parent), he was right.  Civilised political discussion is fast disappearing from the world's democracies.  In the UK, Brexit has caused immense rifts between old friends and sometimes even within families; in the USA it seems to be the same with the 2016 elections.  In 2017, elections across Europe might do the same thing.

Looking ahead over the next few years and decades it's clear that western democracies will face enough challenges anyway, from government finances to global warming to ageing populations.  Do you think that for a while we could back off from the hyperbole, step away from the f-word and discuss the real issues?

No need for speed

"0-320mph in under four seconds", said our taxi driver.

He was about six feet tall, with a walrus moustache and beard but the sides of his face were clean shaven and he had a strong Yorkshire accent. The minibus he had picked us up in didn't look that fast, but he wasn't talking about how quickly it would go. He was telling me about his interest in drag-racing.

"Uses four and a half gallons of fuel in that time", he said.

He had a glint in his eye, as if he was visualising himself strapped in to a dragster, which was not entirely comforting as we were driving along a sinuous road, winding its way through the gorgeous Yorkshire Dales. The designers of the bus had not really designed it for speed, but that didn't stop him from cutting through the esses of the bends sending fountains of spray flying up from the road as the rain came down. Now, while I felt a little nervous, I must admit he drove skilfully and we were never in any danger. But I could see his day job frustrated him.

"Going there next week", he said. "Just put a mattress in the back of the bus for the week."

 The beautiful green hills drifted by, as did the lovely rivers and streams, tumbling over grey rocks, the waters like a dark Yorkshire ale. Having woken in the wee early hours of the morning, I drifted off, leaving the burden of conversation to my fellow travellers in the rows behind. I had forgotten Fiona passed into the clutches of Morpheus almost as soon as the car had set off and her husband, John, is naturally quiet. Colleen elected not to shout from the back row.

I felt the car twist around a roundabout and opened my eyes. "Nearly there" said our would-be dragster. Indeed, within a few minutes we entered the postcard pretty town of Ilkley and soon were at our hotel, situated just a few yards from the start of the Dales Way.

Tomorrow we start six days of hiking through some of the prettiest countryside in the land.  We'll be going a lot slower than a dragster. And that will be just fine.

May be, May be not

Should I stay or should I go?

Much is being made on social media of the hard line positions taken by Conservative candidates for party leadership (and therefore the next Prime Minister). This is particularly true of Theresa May.

But how seriously should we take these statements?

On a simple matter of numbers, there are millions of EU citizens living in the UK and UK citizens living in the EU. Getting them all to "go home" would be both morally wrong and impractical. It would hugely damage the economies of Europe, including the UK.  Theresa May is well aware of this.

So why is May saying such things?

The reason is simple: she's the most pro-Europe of the candidates for PM: she campaigned for Remain.  Like the Labour Party, the Conservative Party membership is considerably more Eurosceptic than its MPs.  Once the Conservative MPs have reduced the number of candidates to two (which will happen tomorrow), party membership make the final choice.  So, with an eye to them, May is trying to position herself as more Eurosceptic than she actually is.

In reality, what can we expect? Broadly the alternatives are somewhere between 

• fully free movement of people around the EU and UK (e.g. The Norway Model)
• to "fairly free", where (for example) people who have jobs, are in academia or are self-supporting will be free to come and go, but others are not.

So if you're a Polish plumber or banker, or a Brit who has retired to Spain, or a European academic doing research in the UK, don't let some campaign rhetoric disturb you.

It's not going to happen.

Chicken Little or Little Red Hen?

Playing Chicken

In the fable of Chicken Little, the animal is hit on the head by a falling acorn.  Being a naive pessimist, he runs around shouting "The sky is falling!"  In different poultry-based story, Little Red Hen, despite the unwillingness of her neighbours to help, works hard and betters herself. I've been reminded of both fables by reactions in the last ten days to the Brexit referendum.

Some of the brightest and best UK voters supported Remain.  However, they lost and seem unable to comprehend that in a democracy the idiot's vote counts equally with the genius's.  Which is odd, given that these are genuinely some of the brightest and best.

(There is a suggestion going around that many Leavers did not understand what they were voting for.  I expect the same is true of many Remainiacs and will cover this in another post.)

What Now?

For a start, the UK stock market hasn't gone into melt-down.  Indeed, its first full week after the referendum was the best week in months years.  Partly this is driven by the drop in value of the pound against the dollar but in addition many are realising that things aren't really that bad.

Indeed, they could get better, not just for the UK but for the EU.

Already there is a list of countries saying they want to have a trade deal with a post-Brexit UK, including Australia, Mexico, New Zealand, South Korea and the USA.  This list can only get longer.  Many of these countries do not yet have trade deals with the EU and are frustrated by this; in a number of cases, deals have been bogged down for years. The complexity of having to negotiate with 28 (now 27) countries dramatically slows things down.

Meanwhile, the dismal, doleful, disconsolate Cecilia Malmstrom, the EU's top trade official, claims that EU trade negotiations with the UK cannot even begin until after Brexit.  It seems unlikely that EU businesses would allow this position to be maintained but if it were then a Brexit Britain would find itself with several trade agreements in place with fast-growing world economies and none with the slow-growing EU.

While George Osborne somewhat bizarrely seems to think that no matter who the next Prime Minister is, he will remain Chancellor, his proposal of a 15% business tax rate will make the UK more attractive to businesses.

So let's imagine for a moment a UK two or three years in the future with trade agreements in place with countries like Canada and Australia (and a host of smaller nations) and more agreements imminent with India, China and the USA.  Trade with the EU would continue to a huge extent, both for reasons of momentum and geographic proximity.  There will be vibrancy in the economy.  By 2020, the UK will be an optimistic place to be.

And how is this good for the EU?  Well, of course, it might not be should the nay-sayers like Maelstrom hold sway.  Most likely, however, there would be a halo effect in at least two areas:

• The UK's agility in signing new trade deals would spur on the EU: petty reasons for holding up deals would no longer stand up.  A virtuous circle of trade would develop.
• Being next door to one of the most thriving economies in the developed world could only be good for Europe.

... and Finally ...

There's determined despair about many wrinkles that need to be ironed out.  There shouldn't be.

• UK citizens living in the EU and EU citizens living in the UK will clearly be allowed to stay, regardless of any Brexit position on immigration.  There is no credible alternative.
• Academically, the UK will continue to be one of the leading lights in the world.  Money that used to go from the UK to the EU and thence to academia will now go directly from the UK to academia.  Research partnerships will continue.  Whatever the decision on immigration, academics will always be welcome in the UK.
• There is gathering momentum on both sides of the channel to ensure that trade will thrive post-Brexit.  One example is here: there are many more.  Business people are realists: they may have largely campaigned for Remain, but will be working furiously to ensure trade continues after Leave.

For better or worse, the Brexit decision has been made.  You can wallow in gloom or build a prosperous future.  Are you a wallower or a builder?

Are you Chicken Little, who claimed the sky was falling, or Little Red Hen, the determined producer of goods?

Yes, we can

I voted to remain with a heavy heart.  My sons were keen on Remain and, given another EU referendum was unlikely to happen for decades if ever, I voted the way they wanted.

What this Means

 I think everyone was surprised by the EU referendum result.  I think too many are misinterpreting it.

The official result was

• 52% Leave
• 48% Remain

and most comment I have read interprets this as a vote against Europe.  We should remember that it isn't: it's a vote against the EU.  I am sure that overwhelmingly the people of the UK will continue

• to take holidays in Europe
• eat European food
• buy European goods, such as cars

UK people like Europe: by a small margin, they dislike the EU.  Indeed, had there been a third option on the ballot paper, I reckon we'd have seen the following

• 52% Leave
• 48% Remain
• 80% like European things

The vote is not a rejection of Europe; it's (by a small margin) a rejection of the EU project.

What Went Wrong?

In short, the Remain campaign was inept.

• It offered threats, instead of hope.  I found it staggering to see how, week after week, the Remain campaign delivered messages in a negative form.
• Foreign leaders got involved. No matter what side they choose, when a foreign leader tells you what to do, chances are you'll be inclined to do the opposite.  President Obama is, I think, much liked in the UK: him telling us we'd be put on the naughty step if we voted out was almost unbelievably crass. 
• Jeremy Corbyn led a conspicuously lacklustre campaign for Labour.  At heart he's a leaver and only changed his position under pressure from Labour MPs.
• The EU was intransigent.  The UK has been a thorn in their side for ages and doubtless the EU is fed up with the UK.  I think they doubted they would lose this referendum.  In the end, Cameron's reform package was so watered-down that few people can actually remember what was in it and consequently it had no credibility.

What next?

David Cameron is standing down.  His timing has doubtless been carefully chosen to optimise the chances of someone like Theresa May winning and to minimise the chance that Euro MP (and lead Euro-sceptic) Daniel Hannan can win a seat in a bye-election.

Eurocrats will be waking in a bit of shock, like the rest of us.  There will doubtless be a bit of a scramble to see if they can neutralise the result, before they realise they can't.  So they will be scrambling for other options. In my opinion, the best for the EU will be the "Norwegian Option" (UK membership of the European Free Trade Area, still paying the EU some money).  Some leading EU and European leaders ruled that out before the referendum: will they reluctantly rule that back in or will fears of exits by other countries (currently most likely Denmark and the Netherlands) mean that they feel they can't afford to?

Stock markets, driven by fear, are down. Much of this should recover in the months ahead.  Inflation in the UK will pop up, but it's probably been too low for too long.  People will start to see that 95% of trade will continue as before: some will be lost in some areas and some gained in others.

Yes We Can

Eight years ago, Barack Obama's campaign slogan was "Yes we can".  This is particularly apt in the case of the UK: we have a strong, vibrant and dynamic economy.  We should be able to find a mutually beneficial settlement with the EU.  We need to look at the fast-growing economies and build bridges with them.  Workers' rights will barely change: indeed it's the current Tory Government, not a Labour one, that brought in the living wage. The next week or so will be a rough ride; the next six months, less so; by 2020 the economy will be humming along, maybe smaller maybe larger than it would have been.

There's no cause for alarm or glee over the result.  Can we survive and prosper after the referendum?   Yes, we can!

I am not fed up

There is just one jam ... ... and it's Hartley's No-Bits Apricot.  Yet it is becoming harder and harder to find. Virtually impossible in North East Hampshire.

And when it comes to chocolate, Cadbury's Bourneville 200g dark chocolate is pretty good value for money.  Except that they just reduced it in size to 180g bars.  And I can't find it in my local Tescos (or indeed Tesco.com), my local Waitrose or the nearest Aldi.

It's the End of the World As We Know It.

I am concerned that not enough people give this topic the mature thought it deserves.

I like smooth, no bits jam.  I appreciate that there are those among you who prefer jam to include the chewy bits that would normally be thrown away.  In my view you should eat more bran, but if you really want contaminated jam then that's fine with me. And your dentist, I expect.

However, what I am looking for is an equal opportunity jam world.  I want supermarkets to stack their shelves with both "smooth jam" and "jam with detritus".  As it is, we are being railroaded into a "jam with detritus" world, where the big manufacturers bulk up their sales and profits by including stuff that ethical manufacturers would bin.  Then, if you want to buy DJ (detritus jam) - presumably to go with your Tesco value sugar drinks and multipack crisps - so be it.  It is not for me to judge your appalling dietary habits. But leave me free to buy smooth jam.  Specifically smooth apricot jam.

Having disposed of DJ, let's move to chocolate.

I fully appreciate that more sophisticated palates than mine will insist on Green and Blacks chocolate or some similar concoction normally favoured by Old Etonian Toryboys.  That's fine.  I will admit that upon occasion I have partaken of smidgen of their Butterscotch or Mint Crisp and I am perfectly cognisant of the fact that they bring unique and toothsome pleasure to the palate.  However, when I am thirsty I typically drink water, not single malt Scotch.  Now I could look down my nose at water drinkers and inveigle them into drinking Ardbeg Uigeadail, but, when it comes to quenching thirst, truth in advertising compels me to admit that water does a better job.

So it is with chocolate.  Four squares of a Cadburys Bourneville bar meet my recommended daily nutritional requirement for chocolate (which as we all know is a basic foodstuff).  Upon special occasions, such as Saturday Night, I may upgrade myself to Hotel Chocolat or truffles or Godiva to go with my 1970 vintage port (which is drinking quite well, thank you for asking) but when I am editing photographs or video then a cube of Cadburys is all I need to power me through.

So I continued in my quest to find some locally.  Eventually, on a somewhat scruffy shelf at Morrisons in Reading, I espied 13 bars.  I bought them all.  In three months' time when they are a collectors' item, I will eBay them.  I may be prepared to swap a bar for a Nikon 70-200mm VRII lens, but only if it is in mint condition.  Mmm.  Mint! Yummy.