Category Archives: War stories

Sunny Afternoon

What do you do with 6 lbs cherries? Actually, that’s quite an easy problem, compared with the years we’ve had nearly 30 lbs from the tree at the back of the garden. It’s an old tree, and I’ve put the … Continue reading Continue reading

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Higher

This is a cross-post of something I wrote on LinkedIn. One of the most fun projects I’ve been involved in was the series of global Annual Brand Meetings we ran for a client. In partnership with the client we would … Continue reading Continue reading

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On fraud, redux

One of the worst things about the pandemic is that it reminded me that once upon a time I was really rather good at RT-PCR. And that reminded me of when I spent 8 months in Sydney trying to replicate … Continue reading

Posted in covid19, Ethics, figure 5B, fraud, Grauniad, Ill-considered rants, J Cell Biol, Lab ratting, Me, PCR, send to Ireland for processing, Sydney, War stories, znf265, zranb2 | Comments Off on On fraud, redux

On the road

Protein Dimerization and Oligomerization in Biology is a textbook that can be yours for the princely sum of £126. I know this because last week I received an email from a cove in India wanting a copy of a chapter … Continue reading

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Gonna build a house

Let’s pretend. Say you came to me and said that your family wanted a new house. And that you were contracting me and my firm of experienced architects and house-builders to do the job.

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On why

The other morning, between about 7.30 and 8.45, I had a long, involved and very realistic dream. In it, I visited the MRC LMB in Cambridge, to discover that it had been partly rebuilt into a modern, if not downright … Continue reading

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On taking notes

Cath’s post on whether it’s good manners to take some means of taking notes to a seminar, when you’ve been specifically asked for feedback, reminds me of a seminar I had the dubious pleasure to attend at a certain University … Continue reading

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The Chain

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise At this time of night, if the lights on the Addenbrookes roundabout are kind to me—and they usually are, because the sensors pick me up as I approach—three minutes and two … Continue reading

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