Robert Koch – The Musical

I’m not very into musicals. The whole idea of spending two hours watching people burst into song every five minutes, quite frankly, gives me palpitations of a rocky and unnerving manner that no amount of marshmallows can settle. It seems as though a lot of subject matter has been turned into musicals, both in the theatre and also in cinema.

Even Spiderman has been turned into a musical. My friend Steve took a trip to New York a couple of years ago and paid a hefty price to watch ‘Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark’ which, apparently, has music and lyrics by U2’s Bono and The Edge. Which is just unbelievably crazy. I mean it is. Without even dwelling on it, that’s bonkers.

So what next? What will people look at and think that choruses and choreography can improve, that falsettos and furnishings can dazzle? It got me thinking though which, as most people will know, that’s generally a bad thing. Why not turn the spotlight on someone who I personally believe requires a bit more attention? One of those underdogs who never quite got the recognition that they deserve? Cast your mind back to Year 10 history, pull up a chair and listen to the story of good ol’ Bob Koch.

Robert Heinrich Herman Koch. Born 11 December 1843. The guy was so smart he taught himself to read and write before he started school. His research helped to identify the specific causative agents of tuberculosis, cholera and anthrax. I may be copying these details direct from certain wiki I mean certain websites but I deal in facts and not speculation. The man did a lot for medicine and microbiology and yet other than a statue in Berlin his name is relatively unknown.

Enter me. Amateur script writer and overall champion of the unappreciated. I think I’ve got the moxie to write a full play based on his life, with a dash of songs sprinkled generously over the three hour running time. I’ve been working on one this afternoon and I think you’ll agree that it has got something going on. I give you ‘Great Postulates!’:

Great Postulates!

It’s very simple, it’s on your tongue
I’ve got the recipe for an evening of fun
Down at the lab, test tube in hand
No time to dance, put down your jams

My report is imperative you see
It sets out what is necessary
To identify cultures, disease causing organisms
Those dark little things that mess with your rhythms
I’ve put pen to paper so read it loud
Something to make my country proud

Postulates!
I’ve established criteria
Postulates!
Erect your posterior
Postulates!
Cholera, tuberculosis
Postulates!
Here’s my prognosis…

I’m clearly onto a winner. If you would like to buy some shares in the production then please put some money in a brown paper bag and leave on my doorstep. Shares will be posted to you within 30 days.

Soul Stop

This morning I went to an establishment called the Soul Stop Café.

I ate breakfast there and had a cup of coffee and then, enjoying the ambience, I stayed a while longer to drink some tea.

It was only after leaving that I realised the terrible threat in the café’s name. Presumably, as a result of visiting and consuming their food and drink, which must have been treated in some way, my soul is going to stop.

If there is anyone here with a medical background, I urgently need to know what will happen when my soul stops and whether it’s possible to restart it. I am pretty worried here and I’m not sure if I should call an ambulance, so please respond as soon as you can. Thanks.

Baby advice

Many of us will be aware that Mr Chang, one of the regular Beans dwellers (you may take “regular” to be a fairly loose term in this case), has recently made a baby. At this early stage we should assume its name is “Changlet” until there is firm evidence to the contrary.

I have never made a baby, or looked after one for any significant length of time, so I am ideally placed to dish out some useful advice on the upkeep and maintenance of this new baby.

Try to keep the baby upright. Babies held upside-down for long periods can begin to leak and will not fit baby seats properly. The correct end to keep at the top is the one that makes most of the noise.
Feed your baby regularly. New babies do not come with skills for foraging, hunting or microwaving pre-installed. Until your baby reaches an age where it becomes compatible with these modules you will need to manually carry out these tedious tasks.
Involve your baby in family life. Babies are small and warm and it is tempting to use them in place of a hot water bottle or book-end. As much as this may seem a good idea, it can cause your baby to get the wrong ideas in later life, and nobody wants an adult man trying to climb into their bookshelves in thirty years’ time.
Do not offer your baby hot drinks. Most people in your household will appreciate the polite and civilised question “tea or coffee?” when they are ready for a drink. However, babies will not develop a taste for the finer things in life for the first fifteen or twenty years, and offering a baby a hot drink in this manner may cause offence.
Buy elastic clothes for your baby. Babies are famously indecisive about their size and will change their physical proportions almost continuously. Procuring clothes of a fixed size will, therefore, be a costly mistake and a source of regret and bitterness for years to come. A stretchy but stylish Lycra garment that will fit your baby now, and when it is a fully grown adult, will avoid that problem.
Do not overestimate the taste of modern children. Your baby probably passed most of its time before it was born playing with a tablet computer or games console. Today’s children are seldom interested in old-fashioned toys that do not have touchscreen interfaces and copious simulated bloodshed. Do not waste your money buying toys such as Lego for your baby – they will not appreciate it. Keep these toys for yourself instead.

I believe that’s more or less everything there is to know about babies, but in case I’ve missed anything out, I’d like to invite other Beans contributors to suggest their own baby maintenance tips below.

A Sensual Awakening: Two Word Reviews

Everything gets reviewed these days, from mobile phones to toilet cleaners, so it seems only fair that The Papples latest body of work should be included.

Sarah and I sat down this fine evening to give ‘A Sensual Awakening’ a good going over, and decided that rather than use lots of words to accurately convey how we felt about each song, we’d do a two word review.

From Us.

To You.

Hangover cure

Nobody likes a hangover, but from time to time we all have one glass of port too many, and wake up the next morning feeling less than our usual splendour.

Thankfully, pioneering physician Dr. Kev has now demonstrated his hangover cure to the world. Mankind need never suffer again.

A Cry For Help

Hi, my name is (deleted for legal reasons) and I have a problem. My problem is that I am drawn towards fake doctors, some of which I create in my own mind and some of which are presented to me in my daily life.

I suppose it all started a couple of years ago. I was on a friend’s stag do and go violently sick for no particular reason and had to abandon everyone at the restaurant we were dining in. My food was wrapped up for me and I retired to the hotel room feeling very unwell. The next day the only thing that made me remotely better was Dr. Burger, a delectable cut of meat wrapped in salad and soft white bread. She looked after me as I recuperated, watched over me in my time of need and when we had to part I felt a great sadness.

A year or two passed and despite a brief fling with Dr. Pepper nothing seemed to emerge. That is until I met Dr. Pepper’s sexy sister, Dr. Fizz. Whereas the former was very sweet and accommodating, the latter was dark and adulterous. She was all over me. I just couldn’t get enough of her and, every weekend, I would hide away with her and refuse to come out until we were done. I’m trying to distance myself yet no matter what I do I seem to end up with her.

So here I am, a wobbly mess, unable to cope without my hit of Dr. Fizz. Sometimes I find myself wandering the 24hr supermarkets at 2 in the morning sniffing around Dr. Oetker. Sometimes I’m found crying into Dr. Beckmann and his Glowhite Sheets. Dr. Karg and his organic cheese and pumpkin seed crisp bread offer me no salvation. Dr. Fresh and Dr. Salts stand at the back and point and laugh at my plight.

I need to know if there’s an end to this all because if there isn’t, one day you’ll break open into my flat and find me buried under a large mound of Dr. Brown’s wide neck silicone teats… and then it’ll be too late…

Broken Cake

Today I arrived at work and found this on my desk waiting for me.

I am confused by this. Red fault tags are supposed to be used to label technical equipment that has been broken and logged with the appropriate department. I have not been trained in the correct protocol to use when cake has been labelled in this way.

Anyway, long story short, I ate the cake. It was nice. It didn’t taste particularly broken.

Is anyone here a doctor? If so, can you tell me if I am in any danger? Thanks.

Pouring
Beans

Category: Medical