On laying the Golden Turd of fable
My head has been turned by news of a - frankly - disturbed gentleman's attempt to create gold through the medium of shitting onto an electric heater and burning down a block of flats.
As any alchemist (a totally cromulent branch of SCIENCE which has suffered funding problems down the years) will tell you, this is NOT how you make gold.
In the words of the presiding judge as he sent the unfortunate chap to the cells: "It was an interesting experiment to fulfill the alchemist’s dream, but wasn’t going to succeed." And by "interesting", he - of course - meant "absolutely fucking mental".
The only sure fire way of getting gold out of crap is by filming a TV advert fronted by a well-known orange-skinned celebrity, exhorting people to take advantage of the record high prices for the metal by sending in all their gold. Then, pay them well below the going rate for their granny's wedding ring, sell the severed finger for medical experiments, and - presto! - PROFIT!
But let us not go harsh on poop-on-electric-heater guy. There is a time and a place for squatting over an electric heater, trousers round your ankles, veins popping out on your forehead as you relieve yourself of a length of nutty slack before wiping your bum on the carpet like a naughty spaniel.
We're just hard pushed to think when this might be.