Richard Hammond, one of my favourite TV presenters responsible for making Brainiac and Top Gear such compelling viewing. I mean, I don't drive, and all I know about cars is that they have a wheel at each corner and go 'vrrooom' ... why would I want to watch a programme about cars? But Richard, known affectionately as the Hamster, just made things so entertaining I started to think that maybe I might want drive myself again one day.



So I was very concerned to hear yesterday that the daft git had managed to crash the Vampire jet car at 300mph and was in hospital in a critical condition. His condition's stable now, and it appears he's improving, which is all good news, although no one will know how serious his brain injury is for a while yet.

I know there are thousands of fans out there who feel the same way I do, and they've come out en masse to do something about it. The people at Pistonheads.com have set up a page on JustGiving.com to collect donations for the Yorkshire Air Ambulance, who flew Hamster to Leeds General Infirmary. Initially they wanted to raise the £340 that that single flight, but the last time I looked there were up to £36,895, and it's going up by about a £1000 every half hour as the network effect takes over. It's wonderful to watch.

So get well soon, Hamster. Looking forward to seeing you back behind the wheel and givin' it some attitude.

I love ads that riff off other ads. This one is just ace. (Thanks Kevin!)

Not really all that work safe at all, I'm afraid, but very funny. (Thanks KM.)

Last time I saw one of my friends on TV, it all turned out to be a wee fib. This time round... the evidence is incontrovertible. And on Flickr.

Someone must have video, surely?

But wow! Our own Tom on telly. Whatever next? (*cough*me?*cough*)

Whilst I was in San Francisco, I had the opportunity to work on the Technorati Live 8 site. It was a concatenation of lucky events that led me to being involved, but I feel proud to have had that chance. The Technorati Live 8 site gives all bloggers a single point of reference to find out what is going on in the blogosphere. Amongst other things, we have resources there to help you contact the G8 leaders, and the Live 8 badge so that you can show support for the cause on your blog. We even have a version of the Live 8 Technorati tags page for your Treo!

Right now, I am watching the Live 8 London concert on TV, watching as thousands of people enjoy probably the biggest, most spectacular gig they will ever see. Part of me wishes that I had been there, but I can do my bit from my blog, as can every blogger.

There have been some cynical reactions to Live 8, not just from corners of the media but also from normal people, who think that it's a waste of time. Well, all I can say is this: We are privileged by an accident of birth. That is all that separates us from those suffering and dying in poverty. Nothing else. We have a responsibility to act and to do something to relieve the pain others are feeling, every day, with no end in sight.

Our leaders have for years assumed that they could do what profited them, what profited the big businesses that fund and support them. For years they have ignored the poverty-stricken and the disadvantaged because they saw no profit in it for them. And for years, we have let them.

It is time we remembered that our leaders are in fact our servants. We put them in power in order to represent us, but they have ignored us one time too many. We have a voice and we must use it to ensure that we send a message, strong and unequivocal, that we will not tolerate prevarication any longer. We will not tolerate their profiteering. We will not tolerate them ignoring our will.

Debt. Aid. Trade. Governance.
Debt: Africa is crippled by debt it cannot repay. It's time to wipe the slate clean, to drop the debt, to stop profiteering off the poor.

Aid: Much more aid is promised than ever delivered. A huge overhaul is needed, not just in how much aid our governments promise, but how much money they actually provide and how it is used. AIDS is wiping out half the population of the continent, and we need to do more to ensure that it's insidious spread is halted, and that drugs are made available to those who need them.

Trade: African trying to earn a living are being driven out of business or kept in poverty because of unfair trade laws. These laws are drafted and enacted by the richest countries in the world, and guess who they benefit?

Governance: There's no doubt that there is corruption. There's is also no doubt that there are good people doing good work in Africa. We can't ignore the problem of fair governance when addressing the problems faced by Africa.

Who benefits?
We do. All of us, because a stronger Africa means a stronger world. Every African who earns a good living, who has independence, dignity and health, who can provide an education for their children and security for themselves and the next generation, they all help our world be a better place too.

We don't want your money, we want your voice
Live 8 is not about raising money, it's about raising your voice. Join billions of others in telling your leaders that you want them to act, now, to make poverty history. Don't allow the G8 Summit to pass without telling your leaders that you want them to take an historic stand, that you want them to drop the debt, reform trade laws and double aid.

Live 8 is the first rung on the ladder - there is a lot more that will need to be done. Turning out for a gig is a great show of solidarity but we need to keep the conversation going once Live 8 is over. Let this be a start, a new beginning. We must continue to discuss what is happening, what needs to happen, and what we can make happen. And we need to keep the channels of communication open, and keep the pressure on our leaders to do something constructive.

All the links you could possibly need are on the Technorati Live 8 site. Use them.

Live8

Just watched last night's Dr Who and I have to agree with Tom that not only is Dr Who is a bit of a tart, but he's also a bit free and easy with gender/species/group sex distinctions. Good for him, I say. Bit jealous really. I never get to dance, let alone set up an interesting threesome with aliens.

Last night I had a dream. Yes, another one. I was on a boat, with Christopher Ecclestone. We were on a river, which was all well and good, but it ran along the edge of a cliff... which was at least a mile high. The water slopped over the edge in a 'your boat would go straight over' manner which scared the crap out of me. But it was ok, because Christopher Ecclestone was there to keep me safe and sound.

But anyway, moving on. I was talking to my mate Ewan about this, and more now than ever I think his take is right. Dr Who is is the last survivor of the Time Wars. The Daleks are all dead. The Time Lords are all dead. Dr Who suffers horrendous survivor guilt and that colours everything he does.

This episode, more than any other, exemplifies survivor guilt. "Everybody lives, Rose. Just this once, everybody lives," says the Doctor as the victims of the poorly adapted nanogenes are finally cured of their ills. The joy in his face is unparalleled by anything else we have seen in this series - he is for the first time truly delighted that he has been able to act as saviour, in however an indirect way.

Consider Father's Day, the episode in which Rose goes back in time to try to save her father's life. The Doctor knows exactly what she has done, he knows the disaster she has caused, and he knows what needs to be done to put it all right, but he can't bring himself to engineer Rose's father's death. He wants him to live, because he feels he can't be responsible for even one more life lost. He's willing to sacrifice the unknown masses in order to safe the known individual - a logic that previous Doctors would never have followed.

For ages with the new series of Dr Who I was really puzzled by the way that the Doctor seemed so passive - very much unlike past Doctors. In the episode The Long Game, with the astonishingly sexy Simon Pegg as The Editor, (why did no one tell me Simon was narrating the Dr Who Confidential series on BBC3? I would have watched them, dammit!), both the Doctor and Rose are helpless and at the mercy of the Editor and his Boss, and they rely upon a secondary character to free them.

This goes totally contrary to our expectations of the Doctor as the Mr Know It All who can fix anything. In fact, I can't think of a single episode in this series where Dr Who has actually taken charge and been directly responsible for the rescue of anyone. Dammit, even the Dalek he tries to rescue, (before he realises it's a Dalek) ends up committing suicide because Rose's DNA has infected it. Damn you, Russell T Davies. Damn your ability to make me cry over a Dalek!

But as soon as you look at this helplessness in terms of survivor guilt, it all makes sense. The Doctor is haunted by memories of the Time Wars. He can't understand why he is still live when everyone else is dead. He has no one left. Nothing left. Just him and his Tardis. Is he a traitor for not dying with the rest? Should he have done thing differently? Sacrificed his life? To what end? Time Lords were always survivors and to die a meaningless death would never have been acceptable.

So instead he is left alone, trying to make sense of what happened, and trying not to repeat what he sees as tragic mistakes. Just how responsible was the Doctor for the death of all those Time Lords, all those Daleks? We heard him crying "It's not my fault!" to the last remaining Dalek. Is that truth, or guilt? Was it his fault? How will Rose react when the truth comes out?

The Doctor is obviously in love with Rose, it's clear as day, and has been for episodes. Will he lose her when all this comes to a head*? It surely must - all the episodes are building up to a climax in which we find out what really happened in the Doctor's past. What were the Time Wars? What happened to the Daleks? The Time Lords? And where was The Master in all this? What part did he have to play? Davros? Is he still kicking about? (Or should that be 'levitating about'?)

I wasn't a Dr Who fan until this series. The old stuff I could take or leave and really not care about, but this series has been fantastic. Russell T Davies has put together a through line that has totally hooked me. He's done something truly different with the Doctor - he's made him human, fallible, vulnerable. For once, the Doctor is not there to save us poor apes, but is instead saved by us. We are going on his personal journey, instead of a journey through space and time that he happens to be taking us on.

As a scriptwriter, I find all this fascinating, and I have to admit to a bit of jealousy. What I wouldn't give to have the opportunity to take a character like the Doctor and turn him on his head, do something really cool and interesting with him. Dr Who is, without doubt, up there with Battlestar Galactica as my all-time favourite scifi.

Anyway, it's 1.20am now - how the hell did that happen? - and whilst I could easily wax lyrical for another hour or so, I shan't. Time for bed. Christopher, are you coming?

* OK, I know Ecclestone leaves at the end of this series, which means a regeneration, which means the relationship is doomed. I was just trying not to think about it, ok?

It was nearly two years ago now that I sat in my lounge in Reading, watching Edge of Darkness on BBC4. That time round I missed the first episode. Tonight I saw it. Twenty years is no time at all. Two years is but a blink.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

I think Dr Who will require repeat viewing now.

Llynedd, pan o'n i'n byw yn fflat fy ffrind Svet, des i arfer i ddefnyddio Sky+ i recordio'r teledu. Mae'n fendigedig - ti'n jyst setio'r peth i recordio rhaglen neu holl gyfres, ac mae yn. Jyst fel 'na. Dim ffys. Dim problem. Gwylies i fwy o deledu Cymraeg wedyn na'r holl flwyddyn o'r blaen, jyst o achos Sky+. Mae 'na lawer sy'n cael ei ddarlledu ar S4C mod i'n hoffi gwylio, ond mae'n cael ei ddarlledu yn y noson yn aml, ar ôl dw i wedi mynd i gysgu. (Ha! Dw i'n meddwl fod 'na lot mod i'n anghofio gwylio, a ddweud y gwir.)

Yn diweddar, dw i wedi bod gwylio S4C bob p'nawn Sul, achos mae 'na lawer o raglenni da sy'n cael eu ddarlledu, ac efo is-deitlau hefyd. Dw i'n trio gwella fy Ngymraeg, felly mae'n dda iawn imi i wylio'r rhaglenni 'ma, ond sai fo'n haws o lawer i jyst presio botwm a recordio popeth a sdim rhaid i gofio troi'r teledu ymlaen.

O wel. Pan dw i'n gyfoethog.

Absolutely wonderful version of the Citroen C4 Transformer ad, which I loved. (Thanks Stereo!)

You may remember that last year I showed a little bit of interest in a British zombie flick called Shaun of the Dead, so it probably won't surprise you to hear that when my mates Ewan and Cameron asked me if I wanted to help them interview Nick Frost for The Podcast Network's Movie Show I had to think long and hard about whether to accept or not. Long. And hard. Oh, yes.

So, to cut a 1 hr 22 min story short, this morning I spent a very happy hour and a half talking to Nick and Ewan, (Cam had to bail for technical reasons), about everything from how pantwettingly scary it was for him to go from being a waiter to a real proper actor on Spaced, to how pantwettingly terrifying dying on your arse in front of 200 people when you're trying to be a stand-up comic is, to shaved bollocks. We did cover a few non-crotch related issues to, but I don't want to spoil the show for you.

Nick was a delight to talk to, and an absolute darling the whole way through, even when we were having a few problems getting the technology to behave - it was a telephone/Skype combination, and getting the levels right was a pig, if Ewan's muttering was anything to go by.

We have to do some jiggery-pokery with the audio before we broadcast, but the show should be up soon. (Well, I say 'we', I mean 'Cameron'. He who gets most turkey gets most string.) I'll post a link when it's up.

So, huge thanks to Nick! Sir, you are a star!

Best way to decompress: Eight episodes of Battlestar Galactica back to back. The new series, not the old heap of crap. Bestest sci-fi TV series, er, evah, I think.

Thanks for the DVD loan, Kate. Let's hope I don't get the bends.

For as long as I can remember I've held the dream that one day I would be able to build my own house. As a kid, I would go on holiday with my family down to Cornwall, to The Lizard, (the most southerly point on the British mainland), where we would stay each time on the same caravan site, Gwendreath Farm Caravan Park. We went almost every year.

It was there that I acquired my obsession with Celtic languages, in part at least from the amazing placenames - Porthleven, Perranuthnoe, Mawgan, Tregidden, Goonhilly, Praze-an-Beeble. I would read as much as I could find about the local legends and try to learn phrases in Cornish so I could figure out what the placenames meant.

I think it was there that I acquired my dream of building my own house. I loved staying in caravans. I loved how compact they were, how they utilised every last scrap of space: the way there were secret cupboards tucked away under seats; the way that tables turned into beds; the tiny compact gas stove. I used to sit for hours with a notepad and pencil and design my own caravans.

Now I think less about caravan design and more about houses. This isn't a function of my current nomadic situation, although maybe it does explain a little why not knowing where I am going to be living this time next year (or even this time next month) sometimes bothers me so. It's an inbuilt thing, something that's skulked about in the back of my head since I was a wee bairn.

One of my favourite TV programmes is Grand Designs, a Channel Four production that follows people following their house-building dreams. Tonight, the programme followed a couple who had bought a derelict church in County Mayo, Ireland, and were restoring and converting it to a house. Amongst a slew of really crap house design shows, Grand Designs stands out as the one with serious taste and standards. No MDF. No lurid colours. No shock-value interiors. Just people trying their hardest to realise their dreams.

Watching tonight, I found myself filled with wonder at how beautiful the building was, how picture-perfect the scenery, and how fantastic it would be to wake up every day in a building with such soul. The photos can only give a glimpse of how beautiful it must actually be.

But if I've learnt one thing from years of watching other people convert a derelict house or build their dream home from scratch, it's that such an undertaking is huge. For the couple in Ireland, things went pretty smoothly, but for many there is delay after delay, trouble after trouble, disappointment after disappointment, and you wonder how they keep going.

How do you get up each day, for months on end, and force yourself to go to work on a project which could turn out to be your albatross? How do you keep a job going, and run a building project, and not destroy your marriage or relationship at the same time? How do you know that, at the end of it all, it will be worth it? Will you still be as in love with your dream when it is realised as you were when it was but a vision?

The answer is, I suspect, that you just do. You get up. You get through another day. You keep your eye on the future, and you trust that it will all come good in the end.

I don't know if I will ever be in a position to build my own house. But I am getting a lot of practice at getting up, getting through another day, and trusting that it will all come good in the end.

Bagpuss, dear Bagpuss
Old fat furry catpuss
Wake up and look at this thing that I bring
Wake up, be bright, be golden and light
Bagpuss, oh hear what I sing

I went to uni with a guy called Mark Davies. We both did a degree in Geology at the University of Wales, College of Cardiff, graduating in 1993. When I left uni, I moved to London, got a job in publishing and promptly lost contact with most of my fellow geologists. It was no surprise to me - I wasn't made for running up mountains day after day, I was designed expressly for the purpose of sitting in front of a computer, typing. It's what I'm good at.

In around 1996 (or early 97), just as I was hitting a stage of deep dissatisfaction with my life as it was going, there was a documentary on TV which shook me somewhat. It wasn't really the subject, the Soufriere volcano on the island of Montserrat, but the fact that one of the volcanologists was Mark. My life was in the doldrums and here was this guy I used to know doing really cool stuff on TV. I ended up talking to one of my old lecturers about the possibility of going back and doing a doctorate but common sense asserted itself and I went off to become a music journalist instead.

A few years later, I saw Mark in a documentary about Santorini, an historical volcano which went bang in a most magnificently spectacular fashion. Again, it made me wonder why I was doing crap stuff and he was off having fun in the sun with a TV crew.

Now I'm sitting here watching a series called Extreme Archaeology, fronted by Mark, which was first shown on Channel 4 last year. But the pangs of jealousy I felt before are completely absent. Maybe I'm less impressed by a TV appearance now as I was then, or maybe it's because Mark appears to be thinning on top. Maybe it's because the archaeology is not so much extreme as ill-conceived. I suspect, however, it's because whilst he's off getting muddy on the banks of the River Wye, I'm doing what I consider to be really cool stuff whilst sitting in front of a computer, typing.

UPDATE: I just wanna clarify something. Reading this back it sounds as if I'm criticising Mark, but that's not my intention. He was a lovely guy and undoubtedly still is. But if all I can think of to explain the change in my reaction to seeing someone I spent three years on the same degree as on telly is 'he seems to be thinning a bit' then that, to me, indicates that the change is internal, it's me who's changed: I'm more satisfied with what I'm doing now, so I don't feel the envy or the disquiet that I used to feel.

I'd love to have a chat with Mark and find out how he ended up doing documentaries, what it's really like to make a TV program, and what he's been up to in the decade since I saw him last. I'd also love to see if he's in touch with anyone else from uni cos I lost touch with them all years ago.

But this was never meant to be a spikey post. Sorry if it read like that.