The remains of a legendary 50,000-strong army which was swallowed up in a cataclysmic sandstorm in the Sahara Desert 2,500 years ago are believed to have been found.

This is an exciting find. The hundreds of human bones, bronze weapons and broken water pots seem indeed to point to the remains of that legendary lost army.

About eight years ago, I was sitting in the living room of friends in Benoni. My cellphone rang. It was my 13-year-old granddaughter in California.

‘Grandpa, where are you?’ she wanted to know.
‘Hi, Cayla, I’m in Benoni, what’s up?’
‘Grandpa, is there a television set where you are?’
‘Yes, but what’s going on?’
‘I can’t talk now. Get CNN, hurry. Hurry!’ and she hung up.

We turned on the television. Two juxtaposed, immensely tall buildings filled the screen, smoke billowing from one, a man’s voice, calm, matter of fact, saying something about a light aircraft he believed had collided with the building, the scene extraordinary but not earth-shattering, accidents happen. Then, as we watched, another plane, a big one, came into view, banked, straightened, headed straight for the second tower, ploughed into it, a spectacular explosion, first at the point of impact, then out the opposite side, the man’s voice droning on for a moment, then trailing away in mid-sentence, uncertainty palpable in the silence, then talking again, ‘There was another one … there was another one … another plane just hit the second building … this can’t be an accident.’

No, it couldn’t be, and wasn’t, an accident.

We watched spellbound, saw the first building collapse in on itself, then the second, too stunned to comprehend what was happening, too stunned to comprehend that before our eyes, half a world away, thousands of human beings were dying.

Now, when I think back on the events of that day, it strikes me that we were alerted to the happenings of 9/11 all because a flat object, smaller than the palm of my hand, made a noise, and did so because my granddaughter in California pushed a button on a similar flat object.

To most of us it’s old hat. Part of life. Natural as breathing. The poet T.S. Eliot once said that you can perceive change but not experience it, meaning that you have no awareness of change while it is happening. Only when you look back can you see the vast change that has taken place.

I’m looking back now.

I can still remember the days of rural party lines when all phones connected to an open line. Each house had its own ring code, and each phone had a little crank-handle which you turned, so many longs and so many shorts, depending on who you wanted to speak to.

Back then, gossip was about the only entertainment available. You knew that everyone down the line picked up their phone to listen in on every conversation, and you had to watch your mouth. There was no quicker way to spread word than by party line.

Then came the dial phone. Demand for a dial phone was huge, supply limited, and any house that had one fell into the larnie category. Lesser mortals had to rely on call boxes, which cost a tickey for three minutes.

To call overseas you had to book a trunk call with the telephone exchange. It could take hours to get connected. Then came direct dialling. Big improvement.

And now it’s cellphones.

Practically every man, every woman and every child owns a cellphone, and can — via satellite if necessary — talk to anyone anywhere anytime, even if they’re standing on the North Pole or South Pole or on Everest’s summit.

Where will telecommunications technology go from here? It’s anybody’s guess.

I once read somewhere that hidden away in the world’s rain forests must be plants whose medicinal properties contain the cure for every disease known to man, and that money needed to be made available for scientists to go out and find those plants.

Right now there is talk of a plant derivative closer to home which also is a magic essence. It’s a spice called turmeric, the ingredient in curry powder that gives the dish its yellow colour. Turmeric apparently kills cancer cells in the oesophagus.

The implications of this discovery are huge. Even by cancer standards oesophageal cancer is a nasty disease. Only about 20% of sufferers survive.

And all these years there’s been me mixing my own curry powder, from ingredients I get from the market, explicitly to keep out turmeric from my curry.

And what made me want to do that?

Well you see, I also read somewhere that people who traditionally eat lots of curry are vulnerable to stomach cancer, and that turmeric was found to be the culprit.

This is an oxymoronic situation.

Supposing both versions are correct, and turmeric kills cancer cells in the oesophagus while promoting them in the stomach, where does that leave us?

In a very not-so-lekker place, is all I can say.

According to a survey by “the free-market think-tank the Legatum Institute”, the world’s top ten best countries to live in are: 1: Finland, 2: Switzerland, 3: Sweden, 4:Denmark, 5: Norway, 6: Australia, 7: Canada, 8: Netherlands, 9: United States, 10: New Zealand.

Britain is 12th behind Ireland

In coming to its conclusion the Legatum Institute considered data on “economic growth with ratings for democracy, social provision, happiness and quality of life”.

Interesting, is that this survey’s findings are at variance with the United Nation’s human development index which paints a completely different picture.

The top ten countries according to that list are: 1: Norway, 2: Australia, 3: Iceland, 4: Canada, 5: Ireland, 6: the Netherlands, 7: Sweden, 8: France, 9: Switzerland 10: Japan.

The United States is rated 13.

Which version do you think is correct? Or perhaps you can come up with a list different from the above two.

There’s an interesting article in Time about the pros and cons of breast and prostate cancer screening.

Screening technology has come a long way since 1980. Doctors now detect cancer way earlier than ever before. They have diagnosed around twice as many Americans with cancer than they were able to in 1980.

This should mean twice as many successful treatments. Sadly it is not the case for prostate and breast cancer. Mortality rates are almost exactly the same as back then.

It has caused a rethink in the medical professional.

The main reason is that they are picking up benign tumours, or slow growing malignant tumours, which in the early stages would have slipped unnoticed past those early screening devices.

Often surgery and radiation follows — and sometimes even chemotherapy — where none was necessary.

The article is an eye-opener. But it also creates a dilemma. To screen or not to screen? That’s the big question. Either way you’re between a rock and a hard place.

CLEVELAND — The first night after she surrendered her house to foreclosure, Sheri West endured the darkness in her Hyundai sedan. She parked in her old driveway, with her flower-print dresses and hats piled in boxes on the back seat, and three cherished houseplants on the floor. She used her backyard as a restroom.

Read this article and be very frightened.

Blind-dating can be exciting and fun. But only if you know someone who knows the guy well enough to be able to vouch for his character. That’s the bottom line. Otherwise it’s a game of Russian roulette.

You may think that it’s enough to have a friend accompany you when you meet the guy for the first time. You’ll suss him out before you trust yourself alone with him on a date. That’s also a big no, no. Some of the most dangerous men are the most disarmingly smooth.

People meeting for the first time usually are on their best behaviour, and it’s easy to be taken in. But you’re nobody’s fool, right? He seems like a great guy but you won’t take chances. You’ll go on one date with the guy and check out his behaviour. Anything amiss and you’ll drop him like the proverbial hot potato.

Is that right? Well just you wait and see. It doesn’t work like that. That guy has been there before and knows the ropes. He rocks up with flowers, the perfect gentleman, and the first date goes like a dream come true.

You date again. And again. Now you and he are an item. You can’t believe the wonderful turn your life has taken. Too starry eyed to notice little discrepancies in his behaviour — his short temper with other people, angry flare-ups over little things — you continue to live in blissful ignorance of the cataclysm that is waiting in the wings.

Then one day you come down to earth with a thud. You are the object of his latest temper tantrum. His fists fly your way. Your face in the mirror, staring back at you, is testimony to the turn of events.

Later he is full of remorse, the apologies flow as thick and fast as the fists that beat a tattoo on your face. You forgive him. The relationship splutters on for a while but inevitably the day arrives when you want out.

Only to find he’s a remora fish that you can’t shake loose.

He hounds you, stalks you everywhere you go; even pops up from behind the back seat of your car while you’re driving. If he can’t have you, he says, nobody else ever will.

You better believe it, he’s not kidding.

The best way to get out of a jam like that is not to get into it in the first place.

On the prowl out there, are all kinds of weirdos; they use the internet to home in on the women they prey upon. Why put yourself in harm’s way?

One young woman — in the news now for the worst reason imaginable — has cause to reflect upon the impulse that led her to accept a strange man’s invitation to meet. Her decision led to events that ineradicably changed her life.

For six years a mother duped everyone, including some who are not just anyone, into believing her son was critically ill. She even pulled the wool over the eyes of the Royal family and impresario Simon Cowell (if you don’t know who he is, think Susan Boyle).

And she did it so she could claim benefits to spent on holidays and home improvements.

The woman went to incredible lengths to achieve her ends; and with complete disregard for her little boy’s wellbeing.

You have to wonder what makes someone like that tick. You also have to wonder where they get the nerve to do what they do. And you have to wonder how a mother can so callously exploit her own child.

Actually to say she callously exploited her child is putting it mildly. We’re talking pure evil here.

Read the article and you’ll get my drift.

A 16-year-old schoolgirl drank herself to death at a house-warming party hosted by a friend’s parents.

It’s so tragic. This kid was a brilliant student with nine A* GCSEs. It’s almost incomprehensible that someone so young and vital, with so much promise, should throw her life away in such a manner.

Apparently she drank half a bottle of vodka at the party. What were the party hosts thinking, while this young girl recklessly knocked back drink after drink in double-quick time?

What were her friends thinking ? I know it’s easy to play the blame game, but for crying out loud, someone, if not everyone, must have seen what she was doing. Why didn’t anyone stop her?

And now it’s too late for anything … but tears.

Two thugs who attacked what they thought were a pair of transvestites picked on the wrong men – when their intended victims turned out to be cage fighters on a night out in fancy dress.

At first the two thugs couldn’t believe their luck when they came across the two cage fighters out all on their lonesome, decked out in “wigs, short skirts and high heels”. Now the two thugs are spooked for life.

When you’re fixing to beat up on two transvestites and they morph into cage fighters, you know you didn’t kiss a frog. You also know you’re shit out of luck.

I really cracked myself up over this one.