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  • Walking your way through CAS

    IB Diploma students, Creativity, Activity, and Service (CAS) can sometimes feel like one more requirement in an already demanding programme. But what if one of the simplest daily habits, walking to and from school, could meaningfully fulfill all three strands of CAS?

    Walking 30–45 minutes each day provides consistent, low-impact cardiovascular exercise. That alone should be reason enough, but we can sweeten the deal even more. Unlike intense gym sessions, walking is sustainable and accessible. Over time, it improves heart health, supports healthy weight management, and increases overall stamina. For students who spend long hours sitting in class or studying, this daily movement is especially important.

    Beyond physical benefits, walking offers something equally valuable: quiet time. A phone-free walk creates space to think, decompress, and mentally reset before and after school. The DP Psychology students will tell you that research consistently shows that moderate aerobic activity reduces stress and anxiety, improves mood, and enhances concentration. For IB students managing deadlines, Internal Assessments, and exams, this mental clarity can make a real difference.

    The ‘Activity’ strand of CAS is clearly addressed through daily walking, but the experience can go further. Students could systematically record data such as walking time, step count, body weight, resting heart rate, post-walk heart rate, and even blood pressure. Over several months, this dataset could form the basis of a Mathematics Internal Assessment, exploring correlations, regression models, or statistical trends related to fitness improvement and grades.

    Creativity might come in the form of designing a poster campaign promoting active commuting. Students could create infographics showing health benefits or data from their own tracking project. This not only fulfills the ‘Creativity’ component but also strengthens communication and design skills.

    Finally, Service could involve encouraging other students, or even teachers, to join a ‘Walk to School’ initiative. Organising a weekly group walk, tracking collective distance, or raising awareness about physical and mental health connects personal growth with community impact.

    Walking to school may seem ordinary, but within the IB framework, it becomes a powerful, multidimensional CAS experience, benefiting the body, strengthening the mind, and contributing to the school community.

  • Europe’s crisis: Demographics and an imminent banking catastrophe

    Many European countries’ fertility rates have fallen to a level where births are not replacing deaths; populations are decreasing. The economic implications are simple to see, likely to be catastrophic, and the catastrophe is years, not decades, away.

    In Economics, Geography, Maths, and Theory of Knowledge, we should stop treating population decline as a mildly interesting demographic topic and start seeing it for what it is: an imminent and catastrophic collapse. This isn’t about empty classrooms or smaller tax bases or under-pressure pension schemes or less impact on the natural environment; it’s about insolvency of European banks and governments.

    Young Europeans are delaying or forgoing parenthood due to the perceived cost of living crisis, lifestyle changes, or existential anxieties regarding war and climate change. The reason doesn’t matter; the numbers do.

    Demographers tell us that a fertility rate of around 2.1 is required for a stable population. That’s 2.1 children per woman. But Italy’s fertility rate is about 1.25. Spain’s fertility rate is about 1.19, one of the lowest in the world. Germany’s rate is about 1.5. Poland and Greece are both near 1.3, which means their youth population will halve every generation.

    One child per couple is not enough

    Once the standard-bearers for high fertility in Europe, the Nordic countries are also in decline, with Finland reaching an historic low of 1.25. Norway: 1.40. Sweden: 1.43 and Denmark: 1.47. Lithuania: 1.21. Estonia: 1.31. Latvia: 1.36. Romania: 1.65 and Hungary, which made headlines for its aggressive pro-family policy measures, is still at just 1.51

    Finland’s situation is particularly striking because it suggests that even with world-class social safety nets, parental leave and pro-family policies, the demographic trend continues downward.

    In the Baltics, Eastern Europe and the Balkans, the crisis is compounded by a ‘grabbing of human capital. Western European employers, desperate for skilled labour and consumers, are vacuuming up graduates and skilled workers from Montenegro, Albania, and Croatia. When a doctor trained in Podgorica moves to the German healthcare system for better pay, they aren’t just taking their skills, they’re taking their future children. Countries like Bulgaria are projected to lose nearly a quarter of their population by 2050. Governments are in a quiet panic; Croatia is currently offering five-year tax breaks to lure its diaspora back.

    While some environmentalists might see a smaller population as a win for food production or carbon footprints, the Economic implications are terrifying because as populations shrink, demand for housing evaporates. Property values then fall and in a world built on mortgage-backed debt, this is lethal. If banks foreclose on homes that are worth less than the mortgage, they cannot recover their capital.

    If 2008 taught us anything, it’s that when banks face insolvency, governments must bail them out. But unlike 2008, this is not a one-off shock. It’s a trend. As debt-to-GDP ratios explode to keep the ‘too big to fail’ banks afloat, we face an existential threat to European governance.

    Too big to fail?

    What do you think? Are European banks about to fail? What about the rest of the world? Any thoughts? Feel free to leave a comment below (and feel free to forward this page to others).

  • Is Lord of the Flies the textbook for the IBDP?

    If there’s one book every IB Diploma student should read, regardless of their subject choices, it’s William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. More than just a adventurous and dark story of stranded schoolboys, this masterpiece is a study of the human experience, a thicket of ideas that dips into almost every DP subject. It’s not just a rippingly good story; it’s an intellectual Swiss Army knife, preparing minds for the interdisciplinary rigour of the Diploma Programme.

    For the aspiring geographer, the very setting of the novel is a masterclass in physical and human geography. The isolated, tropical island isn’t just a backdrop; it’s an active character. Its resources (or lack thereof), topography, and climate dictate survival, movement, and conflict. Could the same story, the same behaviour and conflict have developed on a different island? Students can explore concepts like resource scarcity, the impact of environment on social structures, and the psychological effects of isolation; all within Golding’s vivid descriptions.

    Economics and Business Management students will find a primitive laboratory of human enterprise. The boys grapple with scarcity (food, shelter, tools), and so they discover opportunity cost. The struggle to establish a functional society provides rich discussions of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: the initial focus on physiological needs (food, water, shelter) quickly gives way to safety, and then the desperate, often violent, attempts to achieve belonging and esteem. Ralph’s attempts at democratic leadership and Jack’s authoritarian rise are interesting case studies for organizational structures and power dynamics.

    Naturally, for Literature students, Lord of the Flies is a gem. Golding’s use of symbolism (the conch, Piggy’s glasses, the fire, the ‘beast’), motifs (the loss of innocence, savagery vs. civilisation), and metaphor offers endless avenues for critical analysis. The allegorical nature of the novel, exploring fundamental human nature, ensures its enduring relevance.

    Historians can contextualise the novel within the anxieties of its time because it was written in the shadow of World War II and the emerging Cold War, Golding’s exploration of human savagery resonates deeply with the atrocities witnessed in the mid-20th century. It encourages discussions on the fragility of civilisation, the origins of conflict, and the psychological underpinnings of collective violence; all themes important to understanding 20th-century history.

    Perhaps most profoundly, Lord of the Flies is a psychological thriller. It illustrates concepts central to Psychology, particularly Social Identity Theory. The rapid formation of in-groups (Ralph’s civilised faction) and out-groups (Jack’s hunters), the demonisation of the ‘other’ (Piggy, Simon, the beast), and the descent into deindividuation and mob mentality are powerfully depicted. It’s a clear demonstration of how situational factors can override individual morality.

    And for the heart of the IB Diploma, Theory of Knowledge (TOK), the novel forces students to confront profound questions of ethics: What is good? Where do moral codes come from? Are humans inherently evil or corrupted by society? The boys’ struggle for survival, their creation of rules, and their eventual abandonment of them provide a living, breathing case study for ethical dilemmas, the nature of knowledge, and the limits of reason.

    Language B students can dissect the boys’ evolving communication patterns or identify cultural references and idioms. An Extended Essay student could explore the novel’s philosophical implications, its historical context, a psychological analysis of its characters, or even a comparative study with other dystopian literature.

    But perhaps the most compelling argument for making Lord of the Flies mandatory reading for every DP student is because of its connections to the Learner Profile. Every one of the attributes: Inquirer, Knowledgeable, Thinker, Communicator, Principled, Open-minded, Caring, Risk-taker, Balanced, Reflective, can be directly applied to the characters and their actions or inactions. A simple yet powerful classroom activity emerges: how might the tragic outcome on the island have been different if all the boys had been stronger examples of these Learner Profile attributes? If more of them had been principled, caring, and open-minded, rather than succumbing to fear and savagery, could they have forged a sustainable society?

    Lord of the Flies is a compelling, thought-provoking narrative that inherently fosters critical thinking, encourages interdisciplinary connections, and prepares students for the complex, interconnected challenges of the real world. These are the qualities the IB Diploma aims to cultivate. It’s an unignorable island, demanding exploration from many academic angles.

  • We must learn statistics and probability

    After watching a documentary on the 2004 disaster, a tourist cancels their trip to Phuket out of fear of a tsunami despite the statistical rarity of a tsunami. Their brain is hijacked by the availability bias, mistaking the vividness of the documentary for a high probability of another tsunami.

    Ironically, they choose to spend their holiday driving across the United States instead. The risk of dying in a motor vehicle accident in the US is much greater than being killed in a localised natural disaster. This demonstrates how intuition prioritises memorable drama over mundane but more lethal statistics.

    Imagine a shopper walking into a luxury clothing store and seeing a designer jacket marked at $2,000. They would never pay that much, but this initial number becomes a mental ‘anchor’ that skews their perception of value for everything else they see in the store.

    When the customer finds a high-quality leather coat for $800, it seems like a bargain by comparison, even if they had planned to spend only $400. This happens because the person uses the first piece of information (that $2,000 anchor) as a reference point to judge all subsequent prices against. Despite the $800 coat being expensive, the anchoring bias makes the customer feel they are ‘saving’ $1,200 rather than ‘spending’ $800.

    Mathematics courses all over the world share a common trajectory: counting leads to arithmetic, which leads to algebra, which leads to geometry and trigonometry, which leads to calculus – the pinnacle of high school mathematical achievement. But this path serves an elite minority, and it fails the majority. A fundamental restructuring toward statistics and probability would equip the masses for real-world decision-making.

    Most adults never use calculus; derivatives and integrals are abstract concepts that have no use in most people’s lives. Statistical reasoning, though, pervades modern living. We encounter risk assessment in health decisions, interpret polling data in elections, evaluate claims in advertising, and navigate financial choices involving uncertainty in the supermarket, the car dealership and the real estate agent’s office. Despite this, most people lack the statistical literacy to engage accurately with these situations.

    Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky’s research in the 1970s showed the depth of most people’s poor decision-making. Their studies of cognitive biases showed that people systematically err when reasoning. The availability heuristic leads us to overestimate risks based on memorable events such as heavily reported shark attacks or plane crashes rather than actual frequencies of these events. The anchoring bias leads us to rely too heavily on the first piece of information we encounter, such as advertised house price, which skews our perception of all subsequent information, such as our own perceived value of a house. The framing effect reveals that our decisions can be completely reversed depending on whether options are presented as potential gains or losses; for example, people are much more likely to choose a medical treatment described as having a 90% success rate than one described as having a 10% mortality rate, even though the probabilities are identical.

    Current maths courses include very simple statistics: mean, median, mode, and perhaps basic probability. Students rarely encounter sampling distributions, hypothesis testing, confidence intervals, or Bayesian reasoning which are the very the tools needed to avoid biases. Calculus requires a lot of preparatory groundwork, but even intermediate-level statistics builds naturally from basic numeracy.

    Statistical literacy enables critical evaluation of medical studies rather than blind acceptance of health claims. Understanding even simple statistics allows voters to interpret economic information and political polls. It helps consumers understand financial products, from insurance policies to mortgages to investments. In a world saturated with misleading, statistical skills are an essential civic competence.

    Critics might argue that calculus develops abstract reasoning skills valuable beyond its direct applications, but statistical thinking offers equally rigorous intellectual development while maintaining a deeply practical relevance. Grappling with uncertainty, understanding variability, and distinguishing correlation from causation demand sophisticated analytical thinking. And statistics connects naturally to other disciplines such as psychology, economics, biology, geography…, making mathematics feel applicable and relevant rather than isolated and irrelevant.

    The traditional calculus pathway reflects old world priorities when engineering and physics dominated higher education. Today’s knowledge and information economy demands different skills.

    A reformed curriculum might teach numeracy and descriptive statistics early, progress to probability theory and inferential statistics in middle years. Calculus can remain as an optional specialization for those pursuing specific technical fields. This inversion would serve the many rather than the few, equipping citizens with tools to navigate uncertainty, evaluate evidence, and make reasoned decisions in a complex world. Kahneman and Tversky showed us how and why we fail. Statistics and probability can change that.

  • International mindedness and mental health

    International mindedness is inherently a mindset of openness to the world, a recognition of our shared humanity, and a genuine respect for cultural diversity. By developing the ability to see the world through multiple lenses, we help students move past ethnocentrism and selfishness towards a real state of empathy, a capability that’s as much about intellectual rigour as it is about social responsibility.

    One way to teach International Mindedness in DP Psychology and Theory of Knowledge is to challenge a basic assumption: that what we call ‘normal’ is a universal constant because, ‘normal’ is deeply entangled in culture.

    For students of the human sciences, exploring culture-specific mental health experiences dismantles the idea that Western diagnostic categories (like those in the DSM-5) are objective, universal truths. In 1951, Malaysian psychiatrist Pow Meng Yap questioned whether Western frameworks could meaningfully explain local experiences. This question invites us to practise international mindedness by acknowledging that our cultural frameworks are just one of many, rather than ‘the default setting’ for all humanity.

    We can look at three specific examples where behaviour is shaped by culture:

    • Latah (Malaysia / Southeast Asia): This is a response to sudden fright, most often seen in middle-aged women. Latah involves heightened suggestibility and imitation of others’ behaviour. It isn’t an ‘error’ in physiology. It is a behaviour that only has meaning within local social norms regarding gender, obedience, and social harmony.
    • Koro (East and Southeast Asia): A syndrome where individuals (most often young men) experience an overwhelming fear that their genitals are retracting into the body resulting in death. The distress is physiological and real, but the form of the crisis is steeped in cultural beliefs about anatomy and death.
    • Spiritual guidance and pathological hallucinations (Ghana / India): In the West, hearing voices indicates schizophrenia, but in Ghana, voices are interpreted as spirits or God giing moral guidance. In India, voices are often perceived as playful, often from familiar family members. In all cases, the perceptual event is the same, but the knowledge system applied to it changes the interpretation from a terrifying mental illness to comforting guidance.

    Students can be forgiven for thinking that diagnostic labels, such as schizophrenia or ADHD, have been ‘discovered’ like elements on the Periodic Table, but international mindedness encourages them to see labels/diagnoses as cultural constructs. By studying Latah or Koro, students can learn to separate the universal concept of human suffering from the culture-based narratives used to explain that suffering. This fosters a more nuanced understanding of the sociocultural approach to understanding and explaining behaviour.

    The implications for Theory of Knowledge are similarly profound. These culture-specific disorders urge students to ask:

    • Who gets to decide which experiences count as illness versus spirituality? (Scope)
    • If mental health categories and labels are constructed, what does this reveal about the reliability of the human sciences? (Perspectives)
    • Is it ethical to impose ‘Western’ psychological ‘knowledge’ on cultures that have their own functioning systems of meaning? (Ethics)

    International mindedness asks students and teachers to tolerate discomfort; the realisation that ‘Western’ frameworks are not necessarily wrong, but they are perhaps incomplete.

    When we diagnose distress without looking at social contexts, we risk turning suffering or ill-ease into an individual brain problem. For IB students, developing international mindedness means asking questions like ‘Whose knowledge?’, ‘In what context?’, and ‘For whose benefit?’ When we teach students to see that mental health does not exist without a context, we aren’t just teaching them Psychology or Theory of knowledge, we are helping them develop the humility and global perspective necessary to be internationally minded citizens.

  • Why we trust Wikipedia and what that trust says about us

    Do you remember when teachers were agitated and dismayed and moaning into our Nescafe in the staffroom about Wikipedia? ‘Unreliable,’ we lamented.

    Wikipedia’s now become a relatively trusted and frequently visited website. It’s often the first stop for students (university and high school) researching  assignments, adults checking a fact, and even journalists refreshing their memories. Unlike peer-reviewed journals, the ‘pedia is written and edited by amateurs (mostly), volunteers, ordinary people who are not credentialed, PhD-ed experts. So how did we come to trust it so much? Did the ‘pedia get better, or is it an illusion – other web-based sources are even worse?

    The ‘pedia’s story is, in many ways, a mirror of our digital age. When it was launched in 2001, the idea that “anyone can edit” seemed reckless, even dangerous. But over time, its collaborative model produced something remarkable: a living, constantly updated repository of human knowledge. Its openness invited thousands and then millions of contributors to fact-check, debate, and refine information in real time. That communal process is inherently imperfect but it also corrects errors faster than traditional publications can. In a world that moves at internet speed, authority has become less about formal credentials and more about transparency and responsiveness.

    Our dependence on the ‘pedia also reveals something unsettling about us – convenience and no-cost seems more important to us than credibility. A neatly summarised article, complete with citations and a clean interface, feels authoritative, even when we don’t verify its sources. This trust speaks not only to the ‘pedia’s success but also to a broader problem: our declining skill of critical thinking. We skim, we accept, and we move on, rarely questioning who wrote an article, what their motives were, or whether alternative perspectives might exist.

    The ‘pedia’s popularity is a triumph of collective intelligence, but it’s also a test of our discernment. It shows that humans are capable of remarkable cooperation, yet still vulnerable to the illusion of knowledge. Perhaps the lesson is not to distrust tje ‘pedia, but to understand it for what it is: a starting point, not an endpoint. In the age of open information, our greatest responsibility isn’t to reject accessible knowledge, it’s to engage with it – critically.

    The ‘pedia tells two stories at once: one of human ingenuity, and one of human gullibility. Which story defines us depends on how carefully we read and whether our teachers taught us how to think critically.

  • An open thank you letter to everyone behind IBExchange

    To everyone involved in creating and maintaining IBExchange: thank you! Truly.

    For those of us who’ve been teaching the IB long enough to remember the OCC (Online Curriculum Centre), yes, I know, I’m showing my age, IBExchange feels like a breath of fresh air. The OCC served its purpose in its day, but IBExchange is something altogether different: modern, well-organised, collaborative, official, and teacher-friendly in every way.

    What strikes me most is how thoughtfully it has been designed. There’s a dedicated section for every subject, and within each, a community chat space led by a subject expert, often a workshop leader or curriculum insider. This is the perfect space to ask for official advice or to get authoritative answers about Subject Guides, assessment expectations, and exam procedures. No more posting questions in unofficial social media groups and sorting through a pile of conflicting or speculative replies. IBExchange provides clarity, professionalism, and accuracy, all in one place.

    Then there’s the treasure trove of teacher resources. Some are professional development materials such as pptx presentations, videos, and documents that help us grow as educators. Others are classroom-ready teaching materials created by subject experts and peer-reviewed by other experts. Everything comes with the IB’s seal of approval, which means we can finally stop worrying about quality or compliance. And did I mention? It’s all free. That alone makes IBExchange infinitely more valuable than many of the overpriced, inconsistent subscription sites that have popped up over the years.

    It’s hard not to feel a little giddy about it, honestly. This is exactly the kind of platform IB teachers have needed for years: a space that combines community, credibility, and collaboration. My only surprise is that more teachers aren’t using it yet. If you haven’t already, you can access it easily through your MyIB page and once you’re there, you’ll wonder how you managed without it.

    So, to the IB team, the subject managers, the workshop leaders, the reviewers, the developers, and everyone else behind the scenes: thank you. You’ve created something extraordinary for educators around the world. IBExchange isn’t just an upgrade from the old OCC; it’s a giant leap forward for the entire IB teaching community.

    With genuine appreciation,
    A grateful IB teacher

  • An update on DP Psychology by Dr Christian Bryan,

    Hello Everyone,

    Just a quick update on how things are going with teaching the New Psychology Guide; this time focusing on Paper 1 assessment practice.

    The biggest shift I’ve noticed so far is how much more intentional we need to be in preparing students for the types of questions they will face with the 4, 6, and 15 markers. Understanding these differences early has been important in helping students feel confident and grounded.

    I have learned that students really need frequent, low-stakes exposure to these question types rather than waiting for a big assessment moment. So, every lesson we now do at least one practice/formative 4 or 6-marker question, and once a week we plan a 15-marker together. I keep this process quick and relatively stress-free by using a shared Google Doc as this allows us to build a collective sense of progress while keeping things collaborative.

    “Chaos is order yet undeciphered”, from José Saramago’s novel The Double (2002)

    At this stage, Paper 1 is our main class focus. I rarely mention Paper 2 yet; students are already juggling enough new ideas, and adding the internal assessment too early only increases anxiety. Instead, I tell them to “forget about Paper 2” until we reach the class practical at the end of our first Context. This mirrors how I’m handling the HLE and Research Methods, taking it slow, layering understanding, and prioritising confidence over coverage. I know this is tough in schools that want grades early in the course. I always say I don’t really start to form an IB picture of a student until January/February of Year 1. By this point they have been in exam conditions a few times and had time to build confidence with content and exam skills. 

    Remember the 3Cs – but our 4th C is Confidence!

  • Applying Cognitive Load Theory in DP lessons

    Sweller’s 1980s Cognitive Load Theory (CLT), offers compelling advice for designing effective lessons, particularly valuable in the demanding IB’s Diploma Programme (IBDP). CLT  is based on the idea that working memory has limited capacity, while long-term memory can store vast amounts of information. When tasks overload working memory, learning becomes clogged. But by managing cognitive load effectively, teachers can help students process complex material more deeply and remember it for longer.

    CLT distinguishes between three types of cognitive load. Intrinsic load is the natural difficulty of the content itself, for example, understanding equilibrium in DP Economics or evaluating Sicial Indentity Theory in DP Psychology. Teachers can manage intrinsic load by sequencing lessons, introducing simpler concepts first, and using scaffolding techniques such as guided examples or partially completed essays.

    Extraneous load arises from poor instructional design. It includes anything that distracts from learning such as unclear slides, irrelevant details, overly wordy explanations or rowdy next door classrooms. In DP classrooms, this might mean simplifying PowerPoints, aligning spoken explanations with visual aids, and avoiding split attention, for example, by integrating text directly into diagrams. The goal is to remove unnecessary obstacles so students can focus on understanding.

    Finally, germane load is the productive effort that contributes directly to learning. Teachers can increase germane load by encouraging students to connect new ideas to prior knowledge and actively build mental frameworks that psychologists call schemas. Strategies such as retrieval practice, mind mapping, peer teaching, and open questioning can all enhance germane load, helping students consolidate and apply what they learn.

    Practical examples of CLT in DP lessons include using worked examples in Mathematics, structured essay plans in Psychology, and concept maps in Biology or History. Breaking complex assessments like the Extended Essay or Internal Assessments into manageable stages also helps reduce overload and promotes sustained engagement.

    CLT reminds teachers that learning depends not just on what is taught, but on how it is taught.

  • The art and science of storytelling in IBDP lessons

    We’ve all experienced it: twenty minutes into explaining a complex economic theory or psychological concept, you glance up to find half the class’s eyes glazed over, staring into the middle distance. Then you pivot to a story, maybe about the Dutch tulip mania or Phineas Gage’s railway accident, and suddenly every eye is on you again.

    Stories are the oldest teaching technology we have, and they remain startlingly effective in the IB classroom.

    The opening matters. Start with tension, contradiction, or human drama. ‘In 1848, an iron rod shot through a man’s skull, and he survived to become psychology’s most famous patient’ beats ‘Today we’re learning about brain localization’. That initial hook creates curiosity, the cognitive itch that keeps students engaged.

    But capturing attention is only half the battle. Maintaining it requires pacing. The best classroom stories move. They have rising action, unexpected turns, stakes that matter. When teaching about market failures in Economics, don’t just explain externalities, tell the story of London’s Great Stink of 1858, when the Thames became so toxic that Parliament had to flee, ultimately forcing the city to build a sewer system. The narrative carries students through the concept of externalities without them realising they’re learning theory.

    Here’s where art meets science: the ending must bridge back to your learning objective. The story isn’t entertainment; it’s a vehicle. After describing how confirmation bias led intelligence analysts to miss warning signs before the Iraq War (ToK/Global Politics), you make the explicit connection: ‘This is why we must actively seek disconfirming evidence in our own thinking’. The story provides the memorable anchor; your conclusion provides the syllabus-relevant takeaway.

    The most effective teaching stories also leave room for discussion. End with a question that transfers the concept: ‘Where else might we see this pattern?’ This transforms passive listening into active thinking.

    Master storytellers understand something big about teaching and learning: we’re not training students to memorise facts; we’re teaching them to think with concepts. Stories make abstract ideas concrete, forgettable theories memorable, and distant topics immediate.

    Oh, and by the way, don’t ever let the truth get in the way of a great story.