On this day in history some bloke called Valentine was beheaded for making a deal with Hallmark cards and Forever Friends that would leave most people feeling a little disgruntled for all eternity. Alas the loss of his head had no impact on the expansion of sappy romantic nonsense, but one good thing came of that day, and this is the main focus of today’s entry, for …
Also on this day in 1929 a young scientist by the name of Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin. The night before he’d had to
Fleming designed his own advertising posters
leave his laboratory in a hurry, because the shops were closing and if he didn’t give his wife chocolates and flowers first thing on Valentine’s Day she would refuse to have marital relations with him for the rest of the year. In his haste, Alexander left a petri dish out under a heat lamp and when he returned the next day it had gone all mouldy. He realised immediately that this was no normal mould, because some bacteria that had been in the dish had been killed by it (or something scientific like that), therefore it must be penicillin. Of course, he didn’t come up with the name penicillin immediately, because that would be just silly. He toyed with calling it mould juice, but someone told him that would be hard to market. He moved on to Valentinium, because of the date, but again, a marketing expert pointed out to him that he might end up with a drug that people only bought once a year, so he settled on penicillin, which was pretty prosaic, but functional. Once a name had been settled on, he called a press conference to tell the world about his new wonder drug. The press were very excited because the first thing Fleming said was: “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am here to tell you about penicillin which is a cure for syphilis and gonorrhea. How d’ya like them apples!” They liked them a lot, apart from one dissenting voice who asked “Er, does it cure genital herpes as well?” to which Fleming replied “Don’t be stupid, we’re not even going to classify that until the 1960s!” and the rest of the press pack were all “Yeah, shut up, idiot!”
Fleming and his team worked hard that night to package the drugs and they were on the market the very next morning. Thus it was that 1929 was the first year that people could have pre-marital ghastliness with anyone of their choosing and not worry about cooties the next day, because they could eat some of Alexander Fleming’s mould and the cooties would go away. Things were great for a while, but as is always the case whenever downstairs rudery is involved, there was a moral outcry. Fleming realised that his wonder drug could end up banned, if he didn’t act quick smart. So he did! He wrote a letter to the Moral Outrage headquarters, informing them that he condemned all jiggery-pokery not sanctified by marriage, and by the way did they know that his magic mould could also cure TB!! The day was saved, penicillin was not banned and dirty boys and girls could continue to have all of the sex without worrying about downstairs dreadfulness.
Today is the birthday of former TV star, unlikely heart-throb, and generally untalented, Dean Gaffney. Gaffney made his name by appearing as congenital halfwit Robbie Jackson in the BBC’s flagship misery-drama Eastenders, where he formed a double act with his
Dean Gaffney
dog Wellard, with Wellard being the better looking and more intelligent of the two. On the back of his TV success, young Dean became something of a Lothario, proving that even if one does have a face like a badly put together pizza, one can still find women willing to play with ones trouser ornaments, if one is a little famous (cf. Wayne Rooney).
Since leaving Eastenders, Robbie Dean’s career has mostly consisted of a few appearances on reality television as a has-been and falling out of clubs and ladies’ va-jay-jays. Maybe this will be the year he makes his way back to the top, so hold onto the dream, young Gaffney and a very happy birthday to you, you grubby little man!
