If life were a bowl of cherries...

Ok... so every girl reading this will remeber the thrill of adrenoline as the guy you've fancied for months quietly takes you aside. And the way you have to conceal a small smile at the way he thinks no one else has noticed. You will probably also remember the steadily rising rush of excitement as he first apologiese, then says your name, then falters and talks about the weather or the weekend cinema trip with friends... pauses...

Here some of you will also know the intense feeling of dissapoinment and stupidity when all he actually had to say is that his mother invites your family over for Christmas dinner and could you pass the message on.

:P Sorry... there is nothing like breaking the mood!

It would be nice to think that the majority of your experiences have not been along the lines of the above but instead tended more towards the blurted and clumsy request, "Would you like to come out for a drink with me next Friday?" The following blush and hung head as he waits for the ritual torture of laughter/gossip/teasing. And the elation and uncontrollable grin as you give your reply is something that I doubt many people forget.

Anyway to get to the news... I got asked out the other day. I think, despite rather more relationships that I'd care to count or even think of, this is the first time it has happened to me in a very long time. By the other day I mean two weeks ago now... and I have been grinning on and off ever since.

xXx

And for those of you who are confused or worried... I am still going out with Stuart (nearly 10 months now which is just scary), he just finally got around to asking me :P (I still maintain a mutual agreement for friends to meet after a festival is not asking someone out! Particularly as he was so very careful to make it seem completely natural and casual.)

Ok…. I am writing this to the soundtrack of the Rocky Horror Picture show… so if it is a little strange then blame the backing music. :P Fantastic songs though. : ]

Recent Achievements

• Living in my new flat/bedsit for a week a 2 days. (Current song: I’m going home – Funny…)
• Living on my own for 4 days
• Working a full time job for 6 working days.
• Not breaking anything … at all
• Washing my hair without a shower regularly and successful – though not without complaining.
• Cooking tasty (to me) meals without setting fire to my kitchen.
• Not flooding the kitchen when I used the washing machine.
• Activating up a phone line despite BT’s beast efforts to stop me
• Breaking into my bathroom at 2am!

Recent Lessons

• Check to see if you have rice before you start cooking risotto! (although cuscus seems to work OK)
• It helps to remove the filters / analysers before trying to do a basic confocal image of some fluorescing cells.
• Never let a sales person (“some insects called the human race”) start their spiel concerning their current offers… particularly if you KNOW you aren’t interested.
• Irons come with a plastic cover on the hot bit… it helps to remove this before you turn it on. Although if you notice within about 10 seconds the damage can be rectified with patient peeling and then some acetone (nailpolish remover)

Current Aims

• Learn how to operate the storage heaters properly.
• Sort the kitchen out :P

Failures

• Unable to operate the lock on my bathroom - resulting in having to unscrew the lock fixture at 2am!
  

xXx

Good

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/7407589.stm

That is all I can say at the moment... relief...

I am not so bothered about banning true 50/50 hybrids (as that would get messy in all sorts of tangible and ethical/philosophical ways), now we just have: saviour siblings, abortion and the role of fathers in IVF.

The first I am really not sure of... Killing life to save life is one thing and hard to justify, but I think it is equally hard to justify creating a life just to save another. But then again, there are so many unwanted children in the world that the fact they might only be wanted for the sake of another is hardly credible as an argument. I can understand why people would want these saviour siblings. But part of me also says that people should be born unique and *untampered with*... And that people should have the chance to find their own purpose, not have one handed to them on a plate. (There was an interesting book along a similar yet very different line: "The Girls" that told the story of two siamese twins and their dependence on each other.) I think ultimately in this case there should be no law against it. There is also the question of to what extent we will screen embryo's and how selective we become... Apparently "My sister's Keeper" raises this issue, but I have not read it.

Abortion date. At 8 weeks an embryo becomes a foetus. At 10 the vital organs (including brain) are fully formed and by 12 weeks the neuronal development is such that the foetus has reflexes and muscle control. By week 20 we have facial expression, fully functional cardiac and urinal cycles, semi-functional digestive tract (obviously this doesn't actually finish developing until the child has been weaned), motor control (thumb sucking and other cure things apparently) and the development of the senses - taste, smell etc. At the critical 24 weeks the foetus has a 44% chance of surviving outside the uterus, at 23 weeks this is reduced to 16%. By now the eyes are developed (still no pigment) and the foetus is responing to sounds of the outside world.

The question really is... what is the significance in this reduction. Yes, 200 000  abortions a year is too much. And yes, I do not find the idea in any way appealing. Apparently, 24 weeks was chosen when this was the age that the foetus could survive outside the uterus with support. Recent medical develoments have made in more likely for a foetus to survive a younger age and now the limit is supposedly 21 weeks. Question: Is it foetal viability if they require life support? Or the date of the earlier premature child that survived? Or the date when any foetus could theoretically survive unsupported outside the womb. (btw: I believe the data here, is *survive into adulthood without consequential complications*... but I wouldn't swear to it)

The choice of whether or not to abort is one of the hardest ones I can imagine any couple/woman having to make. However, if the choice is possible, if we are still going to let people decide in advance that their own/their child's quality of life will be too low to be worth the living of it... If we let people have that choice then part of me says that the woman needs as much time as we can give her to make her decision as evenly as possible with minimal trauma and mental upset. There is also the issue of the speed of the legal process. Then there is the issue of abortion for medical reasons - in particular the mothers. As I see it, I don't think that the reduction is significant in real way except to keep the law in line with it's original intention.

I think the question really is the significance of foetal viability?

Father's Role in IVF. I can not find out quite what is being debated here as people ae getting too hyped up over abortion (as ever) and their new pet favourite or "Frankenstien's Monster" (a.k.a. hybrids). I think the move is to say that father's are unnecessary and giving single women and lesbian couples equal opportunities for IVF treatments. I am not sure where I stand on this... instinct tells me I am against it. However, I know as well as the next person how many people fail to find their family in blood relatives and instead look for mothers, fathers, brothers, aunts, cousins... in the people around them. A father figure is essential, yes. Or several...

As I don't know what is actually being discussed... So I shall say that I think I support the role in sperm doner father's finding the identity of their child... But I think if this is the case then maybe they should be expected to play a part in the support of the child.

I shall now witter on various related topics. 

Ok... logically. I support the birth of children to single sex couples because I can not think of a reasonable argument against it. They offer more support and stability that single parent families and in my experience it is the complimenting of personalities and *roles* that makes a sucessful relaitonship. Whilst this may be more common (in my observation alone) in heterosexual couples I would never say it was impossible with single sex couples... and I am aware how the relative sample sizes will have colours my opinion. I would suggest that finding father figures in family friends etc, would be useful... but the same is true of many many families.

I am not sure if I could advocate the birth of a child to a single woman through IVF simply from a logistical perspective. Accidents happen so to speak, and people end up in single parent families with only one source of income and support. However, I don't know how much I could support the deliberate creation of a life with only one half of a family and equally only half the deserved support...

It is a hard one, and most of my views stem from my rather (odd maybe all things considered) strong opinions on family. And also balance within family, between the sexes, between personality... (losely) I think I believe, procreation was intended for man and woman who - ideally - between them can offer protection, education, support and fun through the combination of their own specific talents and traits. We all know that the actual occurance of this is rare - but the question is, to what extent are we willing to allow the deliberate breaking away from this ideal.

So I think I will stand - for the moment at least - with homosexual couples: yes... single parents... no.

It is interesting to note that some of the animal research into homosexuality has been a propensity for homosexual males to develop in a population where there are too many dominant males. These males act as ballast (so to speak), filling the role of an uncle, and supporting the community without actually reproducing. The suggestion is that in these circumstances, homosexuality is a means of controlling population growth.

Not sure what I believe about that, or how is affects the argument... but it is an interesting point.

xXx

PS: so much for organ practise.

The Telegraph produced a rather curious article today

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml?xml=/opinio...

The idea of using ridicule and humour as a defense mechanism for times of conflct is not uncommon. Neither, if you think about it, is to use comedy as an attack and a weapon.

How many people do you know who, when faced with insult or trouble, treat the entire thing as one large joke? Looking around (particularly in England with the "Thou shalt not take thyself seriously (under ANY cirucmstances)" rule) it is easy to see how many people sit behind their comfoting wall of irony, sarcasm, wit and sattire as they move steadily from day to day. Even the worst traumas can be overcome with a few jokes and a laugh - at least to the people watching and that is all that really matters. Appearances are kept up and life kept going by daily injections of stand-up comedy.

Equally, how often so you see ridicule being used to bully and oppress people either in the playground (if you are at school), or the office (if you are at work) or in a family (if you are ... well...)? So often the person with the most power is the one who can simply make everyone else look weaker, and what better way to do this than by comedy, humour and "all in the name of fun". I have seen children cry over direct insult for hours, I have seen children fall utterly silent over ridicule for weeks, months and years. 

I am not trying to say use of humour is good or bad or safe or harmful. There is no way it can be caegorised so easily. It is however potent. It can hurt, it can heal, it can make people change how they think and how they act. It is a weapon... how can we use it? How should we use it? Where would it be most effective? Where is it most needed at the moment.

xXx

After a protracted period of silence I feel strongly persuaded to present you with a plethora of progessions in my otherwise pedestrain life. :P (I realised after the second p that I could have some fun with this sentance and I will once again use the time-old excuse... its MY blog!)

Anyway... to those of you who do not already know, I am doing music at Uni!!  :D And over the moon. Seriously, my cheecks are complaining because I am grinning to much. Not only do I now have time to do the things I wish to do (like practise, or read, or draw or listen), but no! This is encouraged in me. Active development of skills outside the classroom is encouraged and praised. No longer do I have to feel guilty for practising for more than the allotted 45 minutes. I am free! And it is wonderful. 

And as for my degree... I can't wait. 

Along with this I have given up Further maths. This is a less joy-bringing development, I do enjoy maths and will be sorry so see it go (despite the extreme hang-hold it had on my time). However, I do not enjoy - and neither am I good at - so that is less of a loss. And as I need the time, am not certain of an A, and do not enjoy the course I woulkd have to take it seemed like the logical conclusion. I will pick maths up again when I have time and inclination (If this means never I will be dissapointed, but so be it). 

Music itself is going well. I still need to order reeds from Howarths, so that will happen tomorrow. Started playing piano again - a glorious piece of Schumann! Which I will do in a concert sometime. Might pester one of the teachers to give me playing advice, but it seems fairly self-explanitory. Organ is organ. Some brilliant hymns, and even better volentaries. The head decided to announce my scholarship in assembly, I don't know how I feel about that.  :S  oh... and how do I tell the difference between Sibeleus and Wagner? ("Sounds like toffee pudding" applies to both!)

Went to the English Society last night. Which I have a strange feeling I enjoyed more than the English Students there. The talk was basically on "what is literature" and the perspective was that literature is a piece of writing that intrinsically serves no purpose and that now (with the rise in consumerisation) we no longer have literature as all written word is a comodity. Here I must disagree with a several issues:

• Publised books have always been a comodity; nowadays that comodity is accecisble to all instead of just the wealthy.
• If literature serves no purpose then there can be no literature written in the past as all historical literature gives us significant insight into that culture and how social states functioned during that period. Literature also allows us to develop our understanding of people and how people see things - it is in essence one persons view on a scenario be it imaginary or the combination of a series of events theyhave experienced.
• All writing has a purpose as it is written (perhapse not conciously so). People write what they feel, how they think, what polotics they support and abhor, the qualities they admire or distain - all these factors come across through good literature as the author (in part) tries to communicate and promote their own beliefs. Few people positively advertise that which they dislike.
• True, part of the beauty of literature is that is is based in fantasy and does not point to specific instances in time and tangible objects or events (and in this sense it is nothingness and "useless") but this does not mean it serves no purpose. If we limit purpose to the epirical then we limit all sense of culture/unity/emotion/faith/belief and also all sense of identity and history. We can not bring out our sense of beloninging (to a family or a group) as an object to see when it is discussed (Guliver's Travels - the philosophers) and neither can we identify a specific purpose for literatue that is ubiquitous. This does not mean one does not exist.
• The moment we try to define literature, to categorise it, to class it and treat it as something which can be contained and measured then we loose sight of so much, you cannot qualify the emotive and the beautiful. Why is something beautiful? Because it fulfills the golden ratio? Or because we take pleasure in it? Because the colours do not comflict? Or because it reminds us of a time we were happy?
  

Sorry, that was an incredibly badly constructed set of arguments/thoughts. My head is still reeling slightly as it was a very in depth talk. You will not be surprised to hear that I said nothing during the questions time!

Anyway, I should go do something productive (shocking isn't it!)... probably organ! But there is another character pending in office blog... so I think I shall post another episode of that, hopefully a little more amusing than the last.

xXx 

I played my first service at Harlton today. For those of you who did not know, I am now the Organ Scholar there and therefore required to put in a friendly appearance from time to time. :) It actually went quite well, which was good, and all in all I found the visit entirely amusing. ((By the way, this is being written as an occupation whilst I print out some pictures for Steve... so it might end rather abruptly)).

There is nothing better than a long cycle ride, along (fast country) roads, that you have never cycled along, to a place you have never visited (or even heard of until 6 weeks ago), early in the morning.... when you have had a sum total of3 hours of sleep. Of course, the scenario was jsut improved by the fact that I was going to be playing, my eyes hurt (pollen) and I had done no exercise for 4 days so my leg muscles started to hurt about a mile through Granchester. Oh yes, did I mention I went the long way around!   

Anyway, let mecease complaining, and detail the conversation I had with the church warden when I arrive.

 *****

Ruth enters church slowly with considerable apprehension. Jean is dressed formally and attending to some hymn books on one of the pews. Jean looks up unnerved and both smile awkwardly until recognition dawns on Jeans face.

JEAN: Hello?  

RUTH: Hello

JEAN: You're Ruth, Pleased to meet you She hurries forward extending her hand and a firm handshake is exchanged.

RUTH: And you.

JEAN: So you are here to play for us, that is lovely. 

RUTH: Yes, well Leon is playing some of it just to make it easier while I familiarise... [ad lib]

JEAN: Are you an American lady?

Ruth: purplexed No... Pure English

JEAN: Oh, you have a lovely accent.

 *****

Someone please explain that to me.

Anyway, I went, practise, and was interupted no less than 6 times to shake hands with various local dignitaries - all smiling and wearing their Sunday best. Bells start tolling and more people stare at me as I start to play a Waltz tune in F (first hymn) - I was glad I decided to dress smartly for this :). I then get bored... and start playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in 3/4 time which promts more stares and raised eyebrows from Leon, who is now sitting behind me.

The service goes well, although I can't register the pieces as I would like due to unfamiliarity with the (Electirc) organ - my practise time having been somewhat disturbed. The vicar preaches for anarchy. During Communion I Play a very pretty (if I do say so myself) improvisation of "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind") which gets me many compliments and makes me smile. A lot of notices and then Bach's Prelude and Fugue in F Maj from the 8 Short Preludes and Fugues to finish.

Then more hand shaking, smiling and listening attentively to the Treasurer tell me about the old Organ here and how lovely it is to see a new face.... you get the picture. We dutifully file out of the church and Leon, myself and another go to his house where his wife serves us coffee in the garden and sits very quitely whilst we discuss organs and music. Key features of this conversation are: name dropping, the mine is bigger game and "Yes..." - guess which applies to whome. I am now to play the Trio Sonata on Oct 13th for a celebration concert of the New organ - in whatever state it has reached by then.

It will be a lovely instrument, but I shall detail its many virtues when it is finished.

So all in all it was a pleasent morning, I played more than tolerably well (for once). The people as all very kind and friendly and so "Small, rural, affluent, pituresque village in East Anglia"!!!! It's brilliant.

Oh and yes, for those who were wondering... the vicar did preach calling for anarchy and a disregard for rules in favour of what God say in your heart. (!) I had to bite my lip to stop myself from giggling aloud all the way through. I mean, that sort of sermon does no harm in such a village, it might persuade people to forgo moviing their front lawn one Saturday so they can visit a friend... But even so, country Rector preaching *for* ANARCHY!

I love it

On another note: Stupid things I have done today:

• Forgot my keys -  but I did get the chance to visit our next door neighbours who (on account of their holiday, my boarding and then our holiday) I have not seen for 6 months or so! :(
• Put salt in my desert.... though it was sugar/vanilla sprinkles!
• Started shaking before the evening service which didn't help the whole playing thing - I DETEST evensong.
• Had a conversation I probably should have avoided (for sanities sake) but can't change that... and it was inevitable
• Not packed...
• Not finished printing these photos...
• Not finished sorting my room

Oh well.

Best get on

xXx 

The first thing I must say, is that much as I enjoy travelling by train (freedom to move and stretch etc...) the pleasure is more than somewhat marred by two somewhat unnerved family members, one of whome is highly aggitated. It was after such a journey that I arrive in Sidmouth and have to carry a rather heavy backpack up the hill to the campsite telling my younger sister fairae stories until she is scared and asks me to stop. (Yes, maybe my patience had worn a little thin, but it was only a standard seelie/unseelie adapted folk tale!). Pitching camp in the dark heralds two rather arduous days of not doing much until the festival kicks in properly. And here comes the real news...

First on the list is the Anchor Garden's Celidh. And the first dance is a variation of a Circassian Circle and here I met Peter-Paul and Manon (although I don't think my failure to spin out correctly after year without dancing impressed them :P). I also renewed friendship with Bob and Steve (Towersey folkies) and generally found my feet (both left ones on occasion). A note for anyone attending next year, bring outdoor dancable shoes... gravel is painful in bare feet and I will pay anyone large sums of money if they manage to dance the willow tree sucessfully in flipflops!! 

Chadwicks. and Jen arrive making the total in our camp 11 and the total number of people at the first concert 13 (Fiona and Joy)... Fiona proved a highly useful addition to the party, for along with all her natural charms and the delight of her company, her disabled status allowed us some truly spectacular seats for both Show of Hands and the Spooky Men's Chorale. If you have not heard either of these groups, do so. They have the remarkable capability of making me wish I were male simply so I could be part of

1. the gritty and powerful sound of Show of Hands - female voices can do a lot, but that variety of sound and gravel is beyond even th strongest female singer
2. t testosterone drenched genial bufoonary - (I hope I quote correctly) - of The Spooky Men, who had me laughing so much I couldn't speak later on!

The week went on and more people turned up... old partners and a few new partners formed a nice group of "people I can bump into and say hello to..." Ran into Peter-Paul and Manon again at an LNE... was not recognised much to my amusement and apparently his embarassment... until Emma turned up and introduced me properly {yes w*are*sisters). Also met Brendan (dragged up to dance with me by one of the Hammersmith Morris Men who I had been chatting to but had hurt his leg). And of course there is Tom, who never ceased to make me laugh, and whome I first saw at the lunchtime Mawkin concert although I doubt he will remember that. (I have a strange memory sometimes). 

In general my days consisted of dancing a collection of English, Contra and Ceilidh (no scottish :( )... and anyone with any idea how I ended up in the display sets for Enlish dancing, please enlighten me! :S It was very scary being surround by lots of disparaging hawks who seemed certain I was incompetant... When they realised I wasn't they tended to assume I was professional which was a little entertaining. The week started well with my presence being noted at both the 9:30 workshops and the 1am Late Night Extras and I never wanted for partners. I believe my record to be 5 dance partners lined up which was very confusing when I had to remember who I'd agreed to dance with next.

The breakfast workshop was started midweek at Steve's tent... and put an end to all early morning activity for me - replacing exercise with good conversation, bacon, tomatoes and very fine coffee. I have to confess I became a regular, and intend to remain one. 

Time passes, and feet become steadily sorer... Tom leaves us for the petie world of work (poor man) and a delightful afternoon is spent shopping for drinks and a black tie for Steve to wear to the BlackTie Ceilidh - there is always one, and in this case I feel my sister beat him with her rather interesting combination:

• halter-neck black dress
• black bow tie
• fancy shoes
• black and white stripy socks
• blue cumberbund
  

The French dance was a source of great amusement as I struggled (and in the end managed to a degree) to learn French dancing off the hoof so to speak. Apologies to Edward, Peter-Paul and Jen for all the times I stood on your feet. :( I promise I will practise before the next dance! I will have to add here that I have a new love for French dance... it is beautiful. :D Especially when we end up dancing around the Ham concert marquee to Le Bébert Orchestra. :D

 And if anyone can dance and wants to come as a partner to the next dance in Norwich I would be more than enternally grateful! 

I can think of little to note for the rest of the week except for exciting cream tea workshops, envigorating swims, enjoyable dinners (with amusing waitress service) and enthralling conversations as well as copious quantities of dance. Morris Men with Fire... scary and very pretty :D My sister made friends with the Spooky Man... stole his hat and in return he stole my Bacon bap :(. Most parties went on till 4 or 5 am so there wasn't really a dull moment for the entire week. And thanks to Justin and Joe for their continuous supply of lemonade and good conversation - Renaissance music, science and computers, good food, good drink....

And needless to say I managed to sleep in the car on the way home.

Although I did end up in London the next day to meet up once again with Peter-Paul, Manon and Edward... the wisdom of this can be discussed seperately and at a later date.

Here endeth the Sidmouth post. And leaves me just to say, "It was a great holiday, thanks to you all and I hope you all feel the same, I shall see some of you at IVFDF, the rest of you next summer and hopefully, some of you before then... Take care, look after your feet and remember, it isn't a Celidh until someone has shouted "NO! THE OTHER LEFT!" "

Love to you all

xXx 

Well I have decided that I now have enough time on my hands to write here... and If I don't (which is quite probably), I intend to do so anyway!

I will leave you anticipating a long, verbose, articulate, intrinsically amusing and equally informative Sidmouth post.... :P until I feel up to writing one and for the moment simpy say that I have just been away on a very good holiday :D.

Other than that I now have 2 weeks to fill... with

• Norfolk
• Sailing
• Kayaking
• Organ
• Oboe
• Physics
• Cooking
• Gardening
• WOW
• ....

Plus a few other things...  At the moment I have done very little of that list, so best get going.

Were we the last band of Heros?
Or simply partners in crime?
Never thought I'd feel this way
At closing time.

xXx 

Makes a change....

Tonight I:

• Watched my little sister take responsability for her actions and (for once) decide to do something she didn't want to do, over something she did - she's no idea how proud I am of her.
• Watched my other less little sister play one AWESOME xylophone piece (and I heard her practising) and part of one of the best percussion ensembles I have heard in a long time.
• Worked out a "project" for next term... more later maybe, not keen on saying until it gets off the ground
• Saw Basil and Katie and Sophie and Jenny AGAIN :D and laughed... and joked... and talked old times (DT with Basil :P). You forget how much you miss people... and just how good some friends are. Just have to hold onto people like that because they don't come around often... teehee
• Arranged to meet up with various people next week.
• And my boyfriend said he'd be there to meet me afterwards even though I wasn't sure I'd be back. :D :D :D :D Actually made my day, however sad that is... and the fact that he didn't turn up is almost irelevent.

• And most importantly went to a concert that finally reminded me why I chose to do music A level, what I love so much about the subject, what is so amazing about it if PEOPLE ONLY PUT A LITTLE BIT OF LIFE INTO IT. The program was excellent, high quality all round with one exception, and particular mention due to the Madriguys (4 part BarberShop) Madrigals as ever, Junior choir and the Percussion Group.

Came back grinning ... and singing ...

Goonight

xXx

http://www.newscientist.com/blog/shortsharpscience/2007/01/cheap-and-simple-cure-for-cancer.html

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

A cheap and simple cure for cancer?

New Scientist has received an unprecedented amount of interest in this story from readers. If you would like up-to-date information on any plans for clinical trials of DCA in patients with cancer, or would like to donate towards a fund for such trials, please visit the site set up by the University of Alberta and the Alberta Cancer Board. We will also follow events closely and will report any progress as it happens.

It is rare to find a drug that sweeps away decades of assumptions and reveals a radical approach to treating all forms of a disease. But a simple, small molecule called dichloroacetate (DCA) has done just that - and to that most dreaded of diseases: cancer.

The new findings, might also force a rethink on what actually causes cells to turn cancerous in the first place.

In 1930, biochemist Otto Warburg, proposed that cells turn cancerous through a fundamental change in the way they generate their energy. Normally, cells use specialised organelles called mitochondria to supply their energy. Cancer cells shift to a process called glycolysis which takes place in the main body of the cell. Glycolysis is an inefficient system of making energy which normal cells employ only when oxygen is in short supply, switching to mitochondrial energy production when oxygen levels increase.

Curiously, Warburg discovered that cancer cells continue to use glycolysis even when oxygen is plentiful. He called this the "Warburg effect", and claimed it was common to all cancer cells.

His ideas were dismissed and buried long ago, not least when another famous biochemist, Hans Krebs, said the Warburg effect was a symptom of cancer, not the primary cause. This scepticism was reinforced by the belief that cancer cells switch to glycolysis because their mitochondria are damaged and don't work any more.

Enter DCA, which has been used for years to treat people with mitochondrial disease. The drug boosts the ability of mitochondria to generate energy. When given to cancer cells it did the same: the cells switched from glycolysis to mitochondrial energy production. What's more, functional mitochondria help cells recognise functional abnormalities and trigger cell death.

In tests, the DCA caused cancer cells to lose their "immortality" and die. When the drug was given to rats with human tumours, the tumours shrank. Warburg may have been right after all - glycolysis may be more than just a symptom of cancer.

So why not rush straight into clinical trials with this drug? It is cheap, does not appear to affect normal cells, we know its side effects, and it should work on all cancers.

There's a hitch: dichloroacetate is an old drug and so cannot be patented. The upshot is that pharmaceutical companies can't stop rivals making and selling it more cheaply, so it's not worth their while to go to the huge expense of testing it in clinical trials.

This is not a new problem. Many drugs are left on the shelf because companies cannot make lots of money from them. It has happened for diseases that affect mainly poor people, such as TB, although there are now an increasing number of initiatives to help deal with these cases. But cancer is historically a disease that chiefly afflicts the rich, and testing DCA will need a one-off effort.

Drugs companies will be falling over themselves to find a patentable drug with similar action to DCA. Any of these that reach the market will be hugely expensive. It would be a scandal if a cheap alternative with such astonishing potential were not given a chance simply because it won't turn a big enough profit.

Andy Coghlan, senior reporter