The odds are stacked against child gambling

Interesting story this one. A shrink who goes by the name of Dr Henrietta Bowden-Jones thinks, in her ultimate wisdom, that not enough is being done to help kids who have a gambling problem. She says she wants a ban on all child gambling.

So that I don't have to keep writing Dr Bowden-Jones, I'm going to call her Henrietta. I'm sure she won't mind. Henrietta is the director of the NHS's first treatment clinic for people with gambling problems. That's right. A treatment clinic for people with gambling problems. I have to ask, "What the hell would you do in one of these places?" And do they ban fruit in the canteen?

Now, Henrietta thinks kids need one of their own special treatment clinics where they can go to... well... errr... uhh... what the hell would kids do in a clinic for child gamblers? Before anyone has a go, I'll preempt it. "You don't understand Mac, you're not the one with the problem." Yeah, OK, but seriously, what are you going to do with kids in a clinic who insist on putting money in a brightly coloured machine?

Would Henrietta give the kids a bag of cash and put them in a room full of fruities that have hardened chewing gum stuck in the coin slots? Or would she tell them 'to get over it'? Or does she talk to them nicely, say it's not their fault, and prescribe an anti-gambling drug? Or does Henrietta go for the jugular and restrain the kids on a gurney and exorcise the inner gambling demons with her quackery? Perhaps the gambling mice I wrote about last week could teach the kids a thing or two.

But now for the real irony. Henrietta and her gang haven't got a Scooby about the problem. It's a toss-up for anyone going to one of her clinics whether it does anything for them. Just like a whimsical hope of hitting the jackpot, there's no guarantee of getting sorted in a gambling clinic. It's a gamble whether you'll get over the gambling.

Last word. I didn't read anything about the parents. Nuff said.

Shout-out for Sheriff McSherry

Am I allowed to kiss a Sheriff or would I get arrested? Never thought I'd say it but there is one I'd like to plant a smacker on. At long last, someone with a bit of clout has had the guts to stand up and say that shrink-talk in a court is an attempt to 'excuse' the behaviour of thugs.

It was reported in the Scottish Express that Sheriff Craig McSherry, was about to sentence Stuart Lawrie, 23, for assaulting his partner when he was told the accused had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

The usual turn of events normally goes something like this - a shrink gets paid a shed load of cash to write a  short story that says the accused has something wrong with them and it's called ADHD. The shrink can't prove it, but he thinks he's God so you'd better shut your gob or else. Then the legal rep tells the Judge about his poor little client, diddums, who's got the world on his shoulders, who finds it hard to control himself, who beats the crap out of others, who trashes a joint for no reason, all because poor little diddums has got ADHD because God The Shrink said he's got it. The little shit is then let off, gets an arm wrapped round his shoulder, told everything will be all right, gets some amphetamines down his throat, and goes on his merry way.

Sheriff McSherry wasn't having it. He slammed ADHD as an excuse for thugs hence I want to kiss him, run my fingers through his wig and tell him he's a good egg. As for the politicians jumping on the bandwagon, I've no time for them. In fact, they need to open their eyes. The Express article said, "Falsely claiming to be suffering from ADHD was “insulting” victims." Oh please. Wake up! No one has ADHD. You can't insult the victims of ADHD because there aren't any. The only way you can be a victim of ADHD is if someone believes you've got it.

Anyone who wants to have a go at me for writing this, bring it on. Tell me ADHD is real. Tell me ADHD is that or that, or that God The Shrink has written about it. I'll have just one thing to say to you, "How d'you know that then?" Please have your answers ready.

Researchers are taking the biscuit

I've been really busy so I thought I should have a 'Time Out', give myself a 'Boost' and write about this 'Topic'.

Just been reading about a study in the Metro online newspaper where participants were encouraged to think unhappy thoughts because, apparently, that makes them less likely to crave chocolate or other unhealthy foods.

I figured I should do a little research of my own on the story, so I went and asked a female friend what she thought of this story. She read a couple of lines of it and I noted her comment so I could refer to it in writing this blog. She said, "That's bollocks." She didn't have any other comments or say anything else about it before walking off.

The story refers to the study author Dr Juliano Laran, who's from the University of Miami. He said, ‘We found when people who are sad are exposed to pictures of indulgent food or words, their sadness highlights the negative consequences of indulging and encourages them to indulge less.'

I can't help thinking of Bridget Jones and the ice cream scene, where she's scoffing it down after the break up with either Hugh Grant or Colin Firth; can't remember which one. It didn't look like she was thinking about the negative consequences of getting a bit of Ben and Jerry's down her neck at the time. 

Now flip the research coin and you get the other side. Last year, the Daily Mail headline was 'Why we eat a whole tub of ice cream when we're sad.' Huh? Are these researchers serious? One lot say one thing, while the other lot say the opposite. One day you eat because you're having a bad hair day, and the next day, you don't eat but you're still having a bad hair day. I do believe the lady quoted above has a point.


And I do believe the researchers are taking the biscuit.

Viva Rat Vegas

I like to think I'm ready to listen to anyone, that I'm ready to shift my load over to the other side of the lorry,
ready to bang my head where I haven't banged it before - in order words try something new having opened my ears to the learned head shrinkers that throw stuff my way.

After all, there's some jaw-dropping stuff out there these days. How about Viva Rat Vegas? The story reported in the Daily Mail said rats gambled for sugar pellets using a slot machine-style device that featured three flashing lights and two levers they could push with their paws.

The rats were reported to have exhibited several behaviours associated with problem gambling such as the tendency to treat near-misses similarly to wins. Oh yeah? You got me thinking. If they exhibited several behaviours, what else did they do? I can see it now. They probably stayed up all night, got shit-faced on bottles of Scotch, picked up a doe who was gagging for it, and showed her a good time before heading back to the casino to try and win more sugar pellets.

You're probably going to say I'm being juvenile and silly. I suppose I could say the same of a bunch of grown men and women asking rats to play pretend slot machines before fobbing us off with bull fertiliser. My killer question would be lost and wasted on this bunch so I won't ask it.

It's quite insulting that intelligent scientists, chaps and chapesses who probably went to University and got all sorts of certificates and letters after their names, would compare people like me to a rat. If they find a rat that can write an intelligent blog and ruminate on the idiosyncracies of Homo Sapiens, then I might listen.

Scientist awarded for researching stuff that doesn't exist

After almost a three-year hiatus, I'm back and what a story to start with.

This is a story of nice work if you can get it son, can you lend us a fiver mate? A big shot, sooper-dooper Cambridge scientist Trevor Robbins is sharing a one million euro slush fund, whoops, that should be prize, for researching stuff to do with the brain.

An article in the Cambridge News says all sorts of things, including technical bits and bobs and other stuff, but the bit that caught my eye was Professor Robbins' work had lead to major discoveries related to good old ADHD. Oh yeah? Is that right? After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I asked myself, "What the...? How the hell did that happen? Where have I been all this time?"

I'm no Sherlock Holmes and I'm not a rocket scientist, but there's a major stumbling block to the good Prof's research. Here's the question I asked myself, "How can anyone research stuff related to ADHD?" No one out there in Shrinkdom has found ADHD. And that's not for the want of trying. Shrinks have been giving it their best shot but there's still no cigar. The newspaper story says that, "...specific circuits in the forebrain regulate the formation of habits and addiction to drugs, while also showing how disturbances of this circuitry can lead to ADHD and OCD." So, here comes the killer question Professor - how d'you know that then?

How can you say something leads to ADHD when you can't even find it, look at it, touch it, feel it, poke it with a stick or anything? Oh, and you hope the research will lead to new drugs. Well, that's nice for the Big Pharma boys throwing money at you and your mates. Lundbeck isn't it? What are the bets they'll use your research about Scotch Mist aka ADHD, give it to their alchemists, so they can come up with a potion that makes tonnes of dosh?

If you don't agree with anything I've said, post something or do something that proves ADHD is real. I'll bet you one million euros and raise you one million that you can't.