HERE'S a recipe for disaster. Take equal parts of gold-bearing silt and mercury. Mix together well until the mercury has absorbed the gold, then strain through a fine fabric to separate the unamalgamated quicksilver. You should be left with a ball of what looks like chrome-plated Plasticine. Place this in a crucible and apply a propane torch until all the mercury has evaporated (make sure the room is well ventilated]). Pour remaining gold into a mould and leave until cool to the touch.
As passive smoking goes this is right up there alongside inhaling the fumes from a burning bean-bag. Indeed the man wielding the blow-torch in Julian Pettifer's report for Assignment (BBC 2) had levels of mercury in his body around 10 times the normal level. He wasn't very happy about this but, like around a million other garimpeiros, Brazilian gold prospectors, he had to make a living. Pettifer's programme argued that, with mercury flowing into the rivers and atmosphere, there was more than just his health at stake.
Oddly, this was a classic instance of the difficulty television has in sounding an early warning. Pettifer's statistics were, of necessity, slightly vague. 'Up to 25 per cent of all water that drains off the earth is carried by the Amazon,' he said at one point, 'and now sadly much of that global resource is contaminated by mercury.' But how much is 'much of' and how badly contaminated? For every ton of gold extracted it's estimated that two tons of mercury have been lost into the environment. But estimated by who?
Pettifer probably couldn't say because hardly any scientists are working in the area; it is remote, violent, disease-ridden and lawless, a place where men are men and policemen are nervous. Which isn't much of an incentive if you're underpaid and unpopular anyway (very few people want the gold-rush to stop). The Brazilian government is concerned, but realistic about the prospect of banning mining that uses mercury. Nor does it seem likely that local politicians will do much. Ivo Lubrinna, a figure straight out of Conrad, is the Secretary for the Environment in one of the mining areas. He is also the Secretary for Mining and has a personal stake in the activities of 250 garimpeiros so he takes a dim view of alarmism about mercury. It's always been used, he said grandly, a point that was neatly rebutted by evidence that the damage from previous centuries was still working its way through the system. Even so, if I was Pettifer I'd be pitching now for the 'Why-did-nobody-listen?' follow-up in 1998.
J'Accuse, Channel 4's private back room for those with a passion for flagellating dead equines, gave Auberon Waugh the opportunity to whinge about the Booker Prize last night. It was quite entertaining at first, because Waugh has a brisk way with media cliches ('The atmosphere will be electric,' he predicted of next week's Booker dinner. 'That's to say thick with jealously and hatred') and because the event obligingly satirises itself. My favourite clips were John Berger's tremblingly self-righteous dedication of half his prize money to the London branch of the Black Panthers (in the somewhat optimistic belief that this would assist in the liberation of the Caribbean from the yoke of banana companies like Booker) and the treasured moment when Selina Scott asked the Chairman of the Judges whether she had read all the books (an incident that was so embarrassing on live transmission that several sensitive viewers were rendered unconscious).
After that it got a bit boring and muddled. I doubt if there are many people in the country who don't already know that the Booker is a flawed piece of literary razzamatazz, ludicrous if taken seriously, mildly amusing if you want a flutter, but that didn't stop Waugh and his contributors getting all worked up about cultural conspiracy and the death of the British novel. 'We're supposed to take it seriously,' moaned one contributor, apparently unaware that agonising on prime time television about who's won and who hasn't, does exactly that.Reuse content