Monty Hall.

This is a continuation of the previous posts under this title.

Yes, I have difficulty in coming to terms with the fact that if MH doesn't know where the car is, that makes a difference. But really, what it comes down to is information. We have seen that different information can lead to different probability assessments. And this means that if there is any change in the information you have, you may need to reassess your calculations. In the original scenario, when MH opens a door and shows it to be empty, this changes nothing - because you know that's what's going to happen. But if he doesn't know where the car is, and opens an empty door, that tells you something you didn't know before, and alters the probabilities. Look at it this way - suppose we have three contestants, X, Y and Z. We put X in front of Door A, Y in front of Door B and Z in front of Door C. Nobody knows where the car is. Each contestant then has a one in three chance of being in front of the right door. Y now opens Door B, and shows it to be empty. I think it's obvious that X and Z now have an equal chance of being in front of the right door. Y of course is Monty Hall and X and Z are both you - if he doesn't know where the car is and opens an empty door, swopping doors doesn't improve your chances. Put it another way - let's simply refer to the doors as (1) the door you choose (2) the door he opens and (3) the other door. The probabilities have to add up to one, yes? So in the original problem the door you choose has a 1/3 chance of being the "right" door, the door he opens has a zero chance (he will never open the door the car is behind) so the other door has to have a 2/3 chance. If he doesn't know where the car is, then the door you choose has a 1/3 chance, the door he opens has a 1/3 chance, and the other door also has a 1/3 chance. And that I think is quite enough, save to say that although the problem bears his name, this was not the game Monty Hall was associated with - in his game you weren't allowed to swop!

The Lazy Cook

If, like me, you have always assumed that microwaveable rice had to be microwaved, you may be as surprised as I was to discover that it can be stir-fried. And this has led me to try one of my simplified versions of a recipe I saw in a magazine the other day. There's a bit of prep involved, but it's not messy and you can do it at your leisure. The cooking time is about 10 minutes.


You will need -
A handful of frozen garlic
About 50g of bacon bits (see note)
About the same of spicy sausage (chorizo is best, but you could use salami or kabanos)
A 2 inch or so piece of ginger
Some coriander leaves (fresh is best, but frozen would do, or dried at a pinch)
A handful of spring onions
Thai fish sauce
Soy sauce
Sherry (if you've got it - not essential)
Packet of microwaveable rice (egg-fried for pref.)

Note - supermarkets used to sell bacon offcuts dead cheap, but I haven't seen them recently. You may find "lardons" which are fine for this recipe, but not all that cheap. Alternatively, just cut up a couple or thee rashers into little pieces.

OK - preparation. Put a tablespoon of the fish sauce and a the same quantity of soy (and sherry) into a small bowl with a few of the coriander leaves and put on one side for the flavours to come together while you do the following: Thinly slice your sausage. Peel and slice (or grate) your ginger. Top and tail the spring onions and chop them.

Method - heat a little oil in your wok. Add the garlic and the bacon and cook until not-quite-crispy. Add most of the spring onions, all the ginger and most of the coriander and cook for a minute or two. Add the sausage and cook for another minute or two. Add the rice and the sauce mixture. Cook for a couple or three minutes, then add the remaining spring onions and coriander and serve immediately.

Bon appetit!

Money better spent elsewhere?

Now it's finally over, am I allowed to ask just what has been achieved by all the time and money which has been expended on the inquest into the deaths of Princess Diana and Dodi Al Fayed? It's not as though it will have changed anybody's mind - the overwhelming majority who always believed it was nothing other than a road traffic accident will not have been surprised by the verdict, and those few conspiracy theorists will simply see the inquest as just another part of the conspiracy. And the fact that this would be the case was blindingly obvious from Day 1 - so why did we bother?

Music Man.

Herbert von Karajan was born 100 years ago, which seems a good enough reason to celebrate his work - or not, depending on how you view him. Like most successful people, he attracted the envy of those who couldn't match him, and the dislike of those who found him arrogant. And then of course, he was a member of the Nazi party - possibly twice - which in itself is sufficient to put him beyond the pale for many people. For myself, I couldn't give two hoots for all that - he produced some of the most wonderful sounds from the orchestras he conducted of any I've heard. The string sound of the Berlin Phil under his baton has in my book never been bettered. Whenever I was looking for a recording of anything, one of the first things I always asked was "has Karajan recorded it?". For me he is a member of that very small and elite club: The Great Conductors.

Shows improvement.

I bet you're all agog waiting to hear about my Grand National system pick this year. Could I avoid the dreaded hat-trick of fallers at the first fence? So...the system came up with Bewleys Berry. And guess what - it came in 5th, and was actually leading two fences out! Got quite excited.

Taxing matters.

Although most of Europe adopted the Gregorian calendar in the 16th century, we in this country did not do so until 1752. By this time the Julian and Gregorian calendars were 11 days out from each other, so the Calendar Act had to abolish 11 days to put matters right - the 2nd September 1752 was followed immediately by the 14th September. This didn't go down too well with the ordinary people - a lot of them honestly believed that their lives were being shortened by 11 days, and there were several street riots, with people demanding "give us back our 11 days". Also taxes were traditionally due on March 25th (the old start of the year) but this would have meant that on 25th March 1753 you would have had to pay 365 days worth of taxes for a period of only 354 days, so the taxman - in an act of charity completely out of character for his office - advanced the date of payment by 11 days to April 5th, where it has been ever since.

Crystal ball stuff.

Here we go again - the Met Office has predicted that this summer will be warmer than usual and wetter than usual. Well, they got it wrong last summer (it was supposed to be a scorcher) and they got it wrong this winter (it was going to be the coldest for years) so I for one, am not holding my breath.

Monty Hall

This is a continuation of the previous posts under this title.

The essential element in the Monty Hall problem is that he knows where the car is, and will never reveal it - so if you've chosen badly (two-thirds chance) he is bound by the rules to implicitly tell you where the car is (behind the other door). It is this that makes swopping worthwhile. But now suppose he doesn't know where the car is - suppose he simply opens one of the two doors you haven't chosen at random. What then? Well, a third of the time you will have chosen the correct door, and you will win the car, a third of the time MH will open the door with the car behind it (and we will assume that when this happens the game is void) and a third of the time the car will be behind the "other" door. So swopping doors simply exchanges one one-third chance for another one-third chance, and so there is nothing to be gained. I have to say that I find this more difficult to get my head round - my instinct tells me that if I have chosen Door A, MH has opened Door B and shown it to be empty, then using the logic in the previous post, I must double my chances by swopping to Door C, irrespective of whether MH knows where the car is or not. But that in fact is wrong, and we'll look at this next time in what (hopefully) will be the last in this series of posts.

You have of course the right to appeal...

All the publicity around at the moment about the new parking penalty regulations has highlighted two matters which I feel should be of considerable concern. The first is that around 60% of appeals against parking tickets are successful. The second is the statement by the chief adjudicator of the Parking Penalty Tribunal that the new regulations are designed to make drivers more aware of their right to challenge "unfair" penalties. So here we have an official recognition of the fact that the system produces, and will continue to produce tickets which are given out unfairly, and the statistics suggest that these unfair tickets may represent a significant proportion of those issued. Which raises the question - what sort of a Mickey Mouse system is this? Surely it is the system that needs looking at, rather than the provision of a better appeals procedure? The proliferation of fixed penalty notices - be it parking tickets or whatever - has effectively turned the burden of proof on its head. It is now up to you to prove your innocence - if indeed you can. What sort of system is that?

April Fool!

If the basis for Valentine's Day is mysterious (see post 14/2/08), then that for April Fool's Day is even more so. The "fool" or "Lord of Misrule" was a common character in medieval street theatre, and there were many local celebrations at this time of year to welcome in the Spring in which he would doubtless have taken part. And then the general idea of playing tricks on your elders and betters or bringing them down a peg or two is another common theme (I don't know if it is still the same, but when I was in the RAF doing my National Service, the officers always served the men their Christmas dinner for example) and it may well be that April Fool's Day developed out of these basic themes. Another explanation often put forward is that it is to do with the calendar changes which occurred throughout most of Europe (though not here) in the 16th century, when the start of the year changed from March 25th to January 1st. The week-long end of year celebrations ran from March 25th to March 31st, so for the common man the year really appeared to start on April 1st, and the confusion caused to many by the change is said to be the origin of being an April Fool. And then there's Chaucer (again) who, on one interpretation, sets his "Nun's Priest's Tale" of foolishness and trickery on "...Syn March bigan thritty dayes and two..." which comes out as April 1st - and this was written in 1390-some-odd. So it's a real mystery!!