Lonely at the top

So... finally had an email exchange with the only other "proper" mature student on the course (ie over 30). He's an overseas student and he went home over the southern summer.

For one reason another it looks like he won't be coming back next year which (from a selfish standpoint) leave me as Mr Outlier. Staying solipsistic just for a moment, he's the guy I sit next to in lectures so I'll be feeling a cold draft all down one side (c. Eric Morecambe).

No time to ruminate now.

Sad and obsessive behaviour

I must admit to being a bit of a Joy Division tragic. Although I was very young when they turned into New Order, the re-release of their albums in the late 80s found me at an impressionable age and an indie kid to boot. The only JD you would hear typically came at an "alternative" dance night when you'd badgered the DJ for hours to put some on then yo'd be treated to Love Will Tear Us Apart... and a largely empty dance floor.

The sad and frustrating story of the lead singer Ian Curtis' suicide is part of popular culture now having been turned into a film on at least two occasions quite recently (C0ntrol, 24 Hour Party People) but when I started listening to JD it was all very confusing adding to the mystique of the band (give me a break, I was an adolescent...) Living within driving distance of Manchester meant that I could head over to visit the town regularly which cemented a love of the city's music that began with the Smiths and continues to this day. It was an odd experience to walk through Afleck's Palace, loading up with JD posters and a copy of the Komakino flexi disc to take off to college and stick on the walls (the posters, not the disc) . Felt like proximity to the band. Hard to explain but strongly remembered times for me. Probably due to me being 17.

Anyway, this Christmas I received a copy of Who Killed Martin Hannett? , a painfully complete description of the relationship between the man who produced their albums and the band seen by his "best friend" (it says here). The full story of Martin Hannett would take a book to go through (as you can see from the fact that someone has written one) but suffice to say he was credited with the band developing a unique sound, of being a control freak / perfectionist and being increasingly fond of heroin as the albums progressed. Martin H died in 1991 and his story reads like Wired, the John Belushi biography where, even if you didn't know the Belushi story and question the veracity of Woodward's account, you just know the guy has to die soon the way he's going on. I had the same vibe about the author of the Hannett book whilst reading it... imagine my lack of surprise when I found that he had passed away in September last year, poor guy.

Leaving this ghoulish aspect of the Factory story, this brings me to the album of Martin Hannett's Personal Mixes, the cover of which is at the top of this piece. Browsing through a vinyl shop in the CBD, I came this vinyl (mmm... 180g) and having heard about it elsewhere, I laid out the frankly painful $39.98 to buy it. The music here falls into three categories: different mixes, some sound effect recordings (interesting.... having heard them so often as part of a JD song) and a couple of interview snatches (not worth discussing). This album has had mixed reviews, but for a sad man like me it's been an insight.

Basically, it looks like Hannett's reputation for a love of delay and treble is well founded. What is more surprising is the amount of bass that is in the front of the mix. Almost capable of causing nausea. The top end hiss on the recordings of Autosuggestion plays from left to right and causes more disorientation. Two of my favorite tracks on Closer, The Eternal and Decades (which I used to listen to so much as a teenager it still causes my father conniptions) are provided in mixes which only show their differences if you've heard them a thousand times before. The sounds seems comprised of only top and bottom end (bass drum and snare, bass guitar and strange trebly jangling guitar parts) which may have been the idea: to let the singer's voice stand alone in the middle ground with only the sibilants venturng out of this territory.

At the end of side four comes a probably intentional piece of iconoclasm added to provide some contrast: someone telling Ian Curtis to "F*ck off".

Links to past scientists

The photograph above is of Peter Mitchell, a gentleman scientist who achieved the rare distinction of receiving an unshared Nobel Prize for Chemistry in 1978. His great achievement was the discovery of how the breakdown of glucose and other nutrients in linked to the production of a high-energy intracellular molecule (ATP). It was an elegant theory, elegantly demonstrated. He was, by all accounts, a great bloke too according to my undergraduate tutor who worked with Mitchell in his labs in Cornwall for a number of years. Sitting in tutorials, I was once removed from this work.

When I moved to take a PhD, initially I was similarly once removed or directly involved with a number or biochemitry giants. These included Arthur Kornberg, Lubert Stryer, Hans Krebs and JRS Fincham. Apologies for the nerdy name-dropping

The world of biochemistry seemed to be one where large thoughts were generated and proofs pursued methodically over several years. There were close connections between the big discoveries and current opportunities.

It may be me but these connections are much diluted at the present. The process of developing a scientific lineage of PhD graduates from a supervisor's early work naturally splits a large field into smaller ones as graduates take an element of that work and run with it. After twenty or thirty PhDs have come out of a lab, the field has been split so often it's looking like a bastardised version of Zeno's paradox.

An example of this was a friend of mine who went to work with a scientist looking at a topoisomerase. By the time he'd arrived, two other PhD students had started and the protein's three domains had been allocated to one student each. Unfortunately, the bit he inherited turned out to be a spacer domain which let the other two domains do all the interesting stuff which made his viva interesting.

The sense of excitment I felt as a newbie undergrad scientist undertaking a short research project, the proximity to big leaps that had been made only ten years previously, waned quickly and for others too and by the mid-90s I was also mutating a wee bit of a protein to see what happened... just like four other groups around the world who were working on the same protein.

Watches

Dr Crippin, probably the most read medical blogger in the UK, chose to introduce a discussion on the worried well and prophylactic screening with a discussion on servicing his watch.

This started quite a lively discussion on "watch porn" which provoked a bit of thought with me (hence the solipsistic tag below).

Men's bling in the mainstream is limited to cuff links and watches. I had a psycho boss for a job I was in for short time and the only positive learning I took from this guy was to choose cuff links with a solid spine. Since then, a pair of Tiffany kidney bean links have been all that I've needed to pass myself off as being "smart" in business and formal social occasions. If anyone is looking for a GBP150 present for a god son or whatever, I would recommend a pair of these. They feel nice and solid too.

On the watch front, it's hard to work in finance in Asia without succumbing to bigging it up on a new watch. Working in Singapore, Orchard Road was always a short taxi ride away and the prices were (relative in the odd world in which you existed) reasonable. The "standard" watch was a "Hong Kong Swatch", being a Roles datejust. This was the entry to a world of hurt where you went from Rolex / IWC (depending on how obscure you fancied yourself and how thick your wrist was) to the nightmarish heights of Vacheron Constantin (pictured above, yours for US$80,900).

Seemed like madness to me... but I couldn't resist shelling out for a Bell&Ross Hydromax, water resistant to 11,000 metres. Stupid, but a good conversation starter in the pub and a fraction of the price of a VC.

On this day in history #1: 1996

My lab books from my PhD and post doc are closest thing I have to a diary. Except for the actual diary I kept from 13 - 15, I suppose.

So: what joys lie in these dozen or so books?

Well, on this day 13 years ago, it looks very much like I was setting up another in vitro, cell free virus replication assay using recombinant replicative proteins. And, by the looks of the print outs from the scintillation counter stuck in the book at jaunty angles, it this was another failure. Months spent cloning the damned genes and getting them to express and bugger all to show for it. Not to mention: huge exposure to viruses (even the expression system, vaccinia, isn't very nice), radiation (to check for incorporation of labelled nucelotides) and chemicals (scintillant ain't nice).

This experiment, which I had forgotten until now (hooray), took a couple of weeks to set up and involved a myriad of tubes.

Quote from my lab book: "I don't think this experiment worked very well (at all)".

No change there then.

This experiment, which was repeated many times during my PhD, never worked. The following PhD student had to travel to Europe to see how it was done and did get it to work (finally). The key: lyse the cells in situ and stop the reaction ASAP otherwise all the product is broken down. Shame this wasn't in the methods section of their published papers.

Luckily for me I had a number of other projects on the go so the failure of this one did not scupper my whole doctorate.

This is a flavour of why, if asked, I tend to advise my fellow medical students not to aim for bench research. Otherwise I keep quiet to avoid colouring them with my jaundiced view.

More depressing slouches down memory lane later.

Boomshanka

Just to prove that procrastination is the thief of time, I'm going to spend a few minutes posting rather than write my reflective section of the report that is due on Monday.

I remember during the last month of my first degree asking my sister to return the video of the Young Ones that she'd borrowed so that I could watch them one last time as an actual student. How wrong I was...

The Young Ones have a few aspects relevant to them appearing on this blog:

1. they were popular both in the UK and Australia, rather like Are You Being Served, and so are a rare cultural touchstone linking the countries (they're rarer than you'd imaging);
2. erm.. they're students and Vyvyan was a medical student (at a poly.. never!);
3. They were on the telly when I was very young: like Monty Python, it was the pups that formed the first strong fan base and have perpetuated their popularity (reference needed);
   
4. popular opinion is that the series is getting dated and I was interested to see if that's really the case..

So, the main reason for revisiting to see whether they've dated well or poorly. Let's consider different aspects of the programme before delving into specifics. I'm not going to go into details of the programme here. Head over to Google if you're keen.

Politics
Lots of anti-Thatcher commentary, so obviously 25 years out of date. Still resonant for those who grew where the effects of Thatcherism were at their most malevolent so perhaps not as dated as all that. However, from what I've seen, the political activist Rik-like student is dead and buried largely due to the pressure of fattening up the CV.

Fashions
Neil the hippy was always out of date being a character from Nigel Planer's late70s set transported into the format. Nostalgia being what it is, this slight anachronism of the time now seems less obvious and, oddly, Neil now seems to make more sense rather than less. Rik's hair looks like it is, being an early 80's rat tailed nightmare. That's the problem with being up-to-date: you tend to date. Mike looked bizarre at the time and still looks odd. For a man who isn't keen on hippies, he has a predilection for the lapels seldom seen outside 70s school photos. Vyvyan falls into the Neil camp: what kind of punk was he supposed to be? A poorly thought-out hybrid punk / new wave of British heavy metal nightmare. From the neck up, he could pass for a punk with the forehead and nose piercings and a very odd sort of mohican sort of not haircut plus a chain around his neck. His "Very Metal" denim body warmer and Whitesnake T shirt plus wrist bands are pure poodle metal. Waist down, the patchy-bleached jeans and DMs fit either label. Whatever: punk we wasn't. But does he look dated: not really; like Neil, he looked odd then and looks odd now.

Conclusion: doesn't look too bad (except for Rik, particularly when he goes the yellow dungarees).

Music
The live bands selected have stood the test of time... except maybe for Rip, Rig and Panic. Motorhead still look the same as do Madness. Ultra-short term nostalgia being what it is, most of the bands you see are still touring so music isn't problem (ex-Party where a Human League record makes an appearance... but Phil and the girls are still touring too...)

Surrealness
Never the strongest part of the deal, oddball cut-aways to elephant men, Chekov pisstakes and the like look even worse today.

Animation
Poorly animated chips / carrots and SPG looked poor at the time and still do now: no more dated now than then.

Student life
Probably the biggest anachronism. There are no grants here or in the UK. Lectures are attended on pain of unemployment with large debts. Medical students don't dress like that (if they ever did). New Universities don't get to go on University Challenge (often). Trips to the laundrette don't happen. Student houses are fully serviced and have broadband. You work your summers. Can't remember last time I saw a rag mag.

That all being said, there's lots of similarities: student parties, acne, poor hygeine, poor housing, etc. And this is, I think, the main thing. Much of the humour comes from recognition of these things, and many more people attend university now than when the Young Ones first aired which has grown the audience of people who recognise the humour.

Watching the programme today, I still find it enjoyable. But then again, it could just be that it's my own Proust's madeleine (Copyright every single lazy writer trying to seem well read).

Seminal Seeds

I've finally managed to get my turntable working after a few years in storage (or in a transport container) and have been going through my vinyl collection which was assembled pre-MP3. In those days, even post-CDs you could only get some music in the original vinyl.

Case in point the Seeds with their "best of" album, "Evil Hoodoo".

Often considered the poor brothers to the 13th Floor Elevators, complete with their own iconic lead singer, Sky Saxon (cf the Elevator's Roky Erickson), the Seeds caught their second / third / fourth wind in the late 80s / early 90s when yet another generation of musicians discovered them. At the time, it was hard to find the original output of key 60s artists; even the better known bands such the Stooges could only be found on horribly expensive imports. More commonly, you'd manage to secure a multiple generational copy on tape.

The Seeds' best known track is "Pushin' Too Hard", their second single. To get a copy of this, you had to buy "Evil Hoodoo", the compilation Best Of compiled by Bam Caruso and release in 1988. This album was still kicking around HMV et al. a few years later which is where I picked it up. They also released "Pushin' Too Hard" as a single but I never saw that on my trawls through the record shops.

The Seeds' singles were an eclectic mix which reflected the era in which they recorded. "Evil Hoodoo" references some of the more quaint themes of the late 60s bucolic psychedelic idyll: "Mr Farmer" in particular is an odd eulogy to the growing of beans. Perhaps these were magic beans. Perhaps they were just tasty legumes. The main thrust of the album is a concatenation of libidinous quasi-Stones tracks with single entendre titles including "Rollin' Machine", "Satisfy You" and the much sought after "Pushin' Too Hard". Listening to this last after a gap of a few years, the track still sounds fresh, if a bit like the theme tune to an old matinée Western, particularly the "Tooo haaarrd" backing singers. Other quite leaden themes on the record, which were probably quite daring in the day, include obligatory drug references (what on earth could "Tripmaker" refer to?) and bohemian free love lifestyle-type songs ("Up in Her Room", "Pictures and Designs").

Overall, the album still sounds pretty good. Some tunes remain fantastic but of their time and I've no problem with that. In my mind, the Seeds always suffered in comparison with the Elevators, both in terms of the music and the myth: Roky was always more "out there", the Elevators' albums were always denser and more numerous, and the influences on later music were always more profound and explicit. Despite this, in my opinion, the Seeds remain an influential band from the later psychedelic era... and Sky's band had a way cooler name than Roky's.

Check out the "Pushin' Too Hard" video on You Tube. Sky Saxon may not have had the breadth of Roky Erikson's writing talent, but boy did he have better hair.

First posting: setting out my stall

There are many reasons for keeping this blog, one of which is that I have been recommended by the medical school that I keep a diary to assist on reflective practice. A public forum may not be the best place for this, but there are a few elements of what I am experiencing that will probably benefit from broader input and are appropriate for here. Up to a point.

Another reason is to discuss some other things I find of interest. Pretentiously solipsistic? Moi?

You would have to hesitate to call this a creative outlet but perhaps it could be. I've been following several medical blogs over the years, some written by medical students, others by experienced practitioners, and I have always enjoyed the non-medical aspects of their writings.

Finally, depending on whether I actually get any constructive comments whatsoever, it would be educational to discuss the more content-driven aspects of the course. Given the amount of PBL and peer-driven medical courses out there, this approach can't be much worse than sitting in a room with an F1 doc who is making a guess at whether asthma is an obstructive disorder or what.

Finally, FWIW I have an iterative writing process which will lead to inevitable typos and missing words despite best proofreading efforts.

Let the tumbleweed roll!