Francis F*****g Maude - genius in waiting!

Well, there you go - I've done my bit to ensure the country, not to mention my family, keeps on motoring.

I've just filled up the wife's little red runaround (her car - my God you've got a filthy mind!), which cost not very much, and the 4x4, which cost not far short of three figures (but is so much fun when you go off-road!) as instructed by the Hon Francis Maude. What I haven't done, in direct defiance of this paragon of self-deluding egotistical twattishness, is fill my garage with little plastic bombs. And here's why....

It's a long time since I worked in the insurance industry, but I do distinctly remember, from my days four decades ago dealing with insurance for Motor Traders, that petrol is pretty dicey stuff. Well, no, to be accurate, petrol vapour is pretty dicey stuff.

It is, for instance pretty damned difficult to set light to petrol (please don't try it - sometimes it's quite easy!!) It is however, amazingly simple to set light to petrol vapour. Your mobile phone will do it, if it rings at the wrong time. That tiny little spark between your finger and your car door will do it if the concentration is high enough (like in your garage at home, for instance).

I remember seeing a video, all those tens of years ago, where they threw a lit blowtorch (they being firemen, or pyromaniacs, or some such) into a full fuel tank - not a little 50 litre tank mind - no, this one was a petrol station-type tank holding in excess of 25000 litres.

Result? The flame on the blow torch went out when it hit the liquid petrol.

Then they emptied the tank, waited a while, and threw a match in.

Result? Several tens of square metres of concrete took off vertically at a speed a Harrier Jump Jet would struggle to keep up with, to the accompaniment of a ball of fire that topped out at about 50 metres across and 150 metres high. It was impressive. It was petrol vapour. It was, to be honest, bloody terrifying.

And Francis Maude has just suggested that up and down the country, in tiny villages, rural areas, and crowded housing estates, we should all store some petrol in our garages in jerry cans.

And sadly, there are eejits out there, right now, while you're reading this, who are doing exactly that.

And I imagine, in the middle east, Al Qaida bosses are saying to themselves: "Well that'll save the cost of a few suicide bombs. Thank you Francis - thank you."

You couldn't make it up if you tried. Really.

Night Skies

Just got back from taking the dogs out for a stroll, and am reeling from what has been, even by the standards I've got used to, an incredible star-spotting experience!

The sky is absolutely pitch black (apart from the usual light pollution from our nearest English city, Plymouth), and the stars are so clear, and bright, it's like looking at an SFX-enhanced film slide.

To the North, both the Big Dipper, part of the Ursa Major constellation, and the Little Dipper (ditto) are  clearly visible, with Polaris in the Little Dipper giving a clear indication of North for those of us who don't carry a compass.

60 degrees to the east, the setting crescent moon is so bright it almost destroys your night vision, and just below the line joining the bottom horn of the crescent to the top, and apparently only an inch or so away from the top of the crescent, Venus is doing its best to outshine the moon. Venus is the second brightest object in the night sky after the moon, but tonight it's a really close call.

There are loads of constellations visible too - apart from the Dippers, Orion is still visible above the Eastern horizon, and there's also Casseiopia, Gemini, Ursa Major and Minor, and some whose names escape me.

In Orion, Betelgeuse is a big orange blog up and left from Orion's belt, the line of three stars supposedly circling the hunter's waist, and the bright blue star down and left from the belt is Sirius, thought by the ancients to be the eye of Orion's hunting dog.

Almost directly due south, and about 60 degrees above the horizon is the daily-diminishing red spot that is Mars, past its closest point of approach to Earth, but still clearly the red planet.

I don't always appreciate taking the dogs out at 11o'clock at night, but on a night like tonight, living in an area with minimal light pollution (thanks again, Plymouth) - well, it's hard not to enjoy the free, best-ever science programme around.

And I was spared Dr Brian Cox standing on the nearby hill staring wistfully outwards - I got to do that for myself.