I've been following the controversry over BB with mounting disgust and horror. Luckily, just in case I wasn't disgusted, Radio 5 Live have been running regular reports on all their shows for the last two days. They even helpfully played some of Jade's vile outbursts at 7.40am today to soothe my journey into work.
Unfortunately this morally-putrefied episode is giving snobs of left and right full rein to slate the working classes as ignorant and racist, stoking the horrors of underclasses, white van men, ignorance and fear, and generally making comfortable people feel at once happier, with themselves, and more angry,with the vast bubbling mass of racists out there. But I don't read it that way at all.
Jade's outburst on Radio 5 Live this morning was hysterical, primal, and utterly without humanity or restraint. Hatred came spewing like a volcano out of her mouth. Language fails me: she was, as far as I could hear, animalistic in her total inability to control the expression of her hate. It had to be expressed, in buckets, with a violence of mind most of us spend a lifetime trying to calm or work out (and we all have it, to some degree - not racism I mean, but hatreds of one kind or another). It was, despite its uncontrol, a wild seizure of control of space and of other - the elemental cry of the baby and the wounded animal.
I had to teach citizenship today: luckily it was racism and discrimination, and in my leading the class "discussion" I could feel the anger boiling inside me - that this is culture, entertainment, funny - even if we disapprove, like me, there is a part of that which remains voyeuristic in its denunciation. I could feel a degree of the same unreasoning rage: "Why the hell are you watching this?" "Why are we giving this to you as how grown ups behave?" "What are you learning from us?"
And so, amid the debate and the recriminations, the pathetic defences (no Channel 4, it is not the whole of Britain that has the problem here - it is you, you and your cheating cynicism, your contempt and your slimy self-righteousness) - I ended up feeling betrayal. Not of me - I'm white, I don't suffer racism - not, to be fair, even of those who do (though I _do_ feel that, I'm just trying to point out what I felt at the time): but of the children who watch this hell-feed and have to listen to and read about its stinking offal*. There may well be great positives in our society - but we're betraying our most vulnerable people by letting them in on this - and as for that character who goes around in The Simpsons shouting "Will someone think of the children?" - you can fuck right off, you arrogant, cynical tv tossers, with your liberal university pisstake ethics. Fuck off. See what happens down here, on the ground and fuck off.
There's my burst of uncontrolled rage. The victims are the people who choose to come here. I take no payment and I feel no better. The ether is a better receptor for my rage than another human being: so too am I a better holder of it -better that it destroy or damage me than anyone else.
*=a special bang on the tin drum for anyone who can work out my source for this phrase.
Thursday, 18 January 2007
Wednesday, 17 January 2007
CounterFactual
There is a brilliant chat going on at Paul Linford about the alternatives to Michael Foot for Labour in 1980, with some great detail in the comments. Paul's own preference would have been for Tony Crosland (hmmmm), whom he thinks might have saved Labour politics and hence (in his view) Britain in the 1980s. Counterfactual history achieves very little, but it is a lot of fun. Often you don't see it in such detail, though: usually you come across an essay which discusses what might have happened had a major global event happened differently, and more often, had Britain fallen in 1940 (I have at least 2 Doctor Who books and 1 old dvd on this theme). I suppose you could read Threads as being counterfactual, as its dates match up for 1983, rather than 1984 when it was broadcast.
Paul's post and the discussion is unusual in its depth and well worth a butcher's. I guess it's the kind of discussion I can imagine Labourites having regularly but to someone outside left politics it seems quirky and, in an odd sort of way, imaginative. Now - Tories - Willie Whitelaw in 75?
UPDATE: As Paul points out in the comment below, this is all predicated on the non-death of Crosland in 1977.
Paul's post and the discussion is unusual in its depth and well worth a butcher's. I guess it's the kind of discussion I can imagine Labourites having regularly but to someone outside left politics it seems quirky and, in an odd sort of way, imaginative. Now - Tories - Willie Whitelaw in 75?
UPDATE: As Paul points out in the comment below, this is all predicated on the non-death of Crosland in 1977.
Tuesday, 16 January 2007
Cricket Shock
England have won a match, against New Zealand in the second full ODI since the end of the Test Series.
The game is notable chiefly as further proof of "Brearley's Law", first formulated in Leeds in 1981. This law has three basic sub-laws, or by-laws:
1. A successful all-rounder shall not make a successful captain of the England cricket team.
2. When such a captain is relieved of his duties, he is replaced by a captain whose specific skill is that he takes responsibility for the performance himself.
3. Under these circumstances, the ex-captain shall once more perform to his ability, and take wickets and score runs.
It is staggering that the analysts and geeks in the ECB set up had forgotten this law.
The game is notable chiefly as further proof of "Brearley's Law", first formulated in Leeds in 1981. This law has three basic sub-laws, or by-laws:
1. A successful all-rounder shall not make a successful captain of the England cricket team.
2. When such a captain is relieved of his duties, he is replaced by a captain whose specific skill is that he takes responsibility for the performance himself.
3. Under these circumstances, the ex-captain shall once more perform to his ability, and take wickets and score runs.
It is staggering that the analysts and geeks in the ECB set up had forgotten this law.
The Shitbag's Shitbag
Regular readers of this blog will know that I loathe and despise Charlie "Lord" Falconer. He's just been on Radio 5 now, spouting his anti-democratic, arrogant, poisonous shit yet again. He's just said there are more than enough English MPs to force through any measure that England wants in the UK Parliament as it is, so an English Parliament is wholly unnecessary. You stupid fat git, how the fuck did we end up with tuition fees then, while Scotland didn't? Whose support was essential?
Why is this unelected idiot yet again commenting on matters of democracy? Yes I know the answer already. It's his job, believe it or not. One that he is no more qualified to do than I am to build houses. Whatever your views on an English Parliament (and I'm not convinced that I want another layer of govt), the right of this man to comment and worse, to make the rules, was given to him by a busted flush of a PM, his friend and flatmate, and not through his own ability - it is a calculated slap in the face to Britain and to democracy (Falconer made a big thing just now of saying "he" was happy with things as they are) to let Falconer anywhere near the constitution or indeed anything else.
If the revolution ever comes, I would like to have his very considerable guts; I have orders for plenty of garters.
Why is this unelected idiot yet again commenting on matters of democracy? Yes I know the answer already. It's his job, believe it or not. One that he is no more qualified to do than I am to build houses. Whatever your views on an English Parliament (and I'm not convinced that I want another layer of govt), the right of this man to comment and worse, to make the rules, was given to him by a busted flush of a PM, his friend and flatmate, and not through his own ability - it is a calculated slap in the face to Britain and to democracy (Falconer made a big thing just now of saying "he" was happy with things as they are) to let Falconer anywhere near the constitution or indeed anything else.
If the revolution ever comes, I would like to have his very considerable guts; I have orders for plenty of garters.
Sunday, 14 January 2007
Atlas Shrugged
I know this will cost me any leftish readers I still have but so what. I'm re-reading this for the third time and I love it. Yes - the villains all have "empty" faces and "lifeless" eyes, and the heroes are all supermen and women whose achievements are probably physically impossible, but I like it because I am a bit of a geek, and I find endless descriptions of railways comforting, and I like it because I agree with its basic tenet that a man without a purpose is a moral evil. I don't agree that no-one should respond any to non-selfish ideal or should work for the good of others, though I understand where Rand is coming from (even if I can't see a society that would function on those lines - Rand doesn't really draw one, as Galt's Gulch is not a real community in any sense). It does make me think (naturally) of myself, and of the need to get out, get working, achieve things, build things, create things, be happy and be satisfied in the sense of achievement - that my tribute to the wonder of existence is to contribute to the store of resources that the world has, and thereby to leave some kind of order as a defence, however temporary, against the entropy. That does affect me, and make me think: not only do you have to create your own meaning, but your own purpose, and stick to it, create real things with it (and as such, the heavy industry of the novel is a metaphor for tangible things generally). I wonder if Rand was, in part, writing mysticism without knowing it.
An interesting side issue, like a small plate of onion rings to the pizza of the novel, is that some of her heroes are scions of great dynasties (except, I think, Hank Rearden). There is, somewhere, a half hearted defence of the principle of heredity, as a set of values an individual has to prove themselves worthy of, but it still strikes me as odd that Dagny Taggart and Franscisco D'Anconia haven't created everything for themselves: they've been gifted a lot of what they have (talent, especially). If Rand wants us to grasp the greatest good as the creation by an individual of meaning and of material, then it is almost self-defeating to concentrate on people of such abilities and fortune. Or it's a two fingers to the critics, given that she knew what they would say (they pretty much appear in the novel anyway, as Bertram Scudder and various others).
Is a small blog an achievement, or a distraction? What is great work? Oh God, I'm sounding like Jim Taggart.
An interesting side issue, like a small plate of onion rings to the pizza of the novel, is that some of her heroes are scions of great dynasties (except, I think, Hank Rearden). There is, somewhere, a half hearted defence of the principle of heredity, as a set of values an individual has to prove themselves worthy of, but it still strikes me as odd that Dagny Taggart and Franscisco D'Anconia haven't created everything for themselves: they've been gifted a lot of what they have (talent, especially). If Rand wants us to grasp the greatest good as the creation by an individual of meaning and of material, then it is almost self-defeating to concentrate on people of such abilities and fortune. Or it's a two fingers to the critics, given that she knew what they would say (they pretty much appear in the novel anyway, as Bertram Scudder and various others).
Is a small blog an achievement, or a distraction? What is great work? Oh God, I'm sounding like Jim Taggart.
"Anti Trust" Rules
I picked this up from the Devil.
A quote from the Kent News website where you can read the whole story:
A police spokesman confirmed that Superintendent Joanna Young, an Area Commander for Kent Police, had told the six volunteers they would not be allowed back into Herne Bay police station from January 20 if they didn’t sign the forms.
Police say the information is needed in case the volunteers become “vulnerable to financial inducements”.
A police spokesman said the vetting procedure was due to a new computer system set to launch next month which would give volunteers “controlled access” that could be used “for personal financial gain”.
“We value tremendously their support but the Kent force is not prepared to compromise the security of our systems.”
In other words, for wholly paranoid and controlling reasons, the police are acting in deliberate mistrust of an organisation whose whole purpose is to support the work of the over-stretched police forces of this country.
This is the way private and public contracts of all kinds are being run now: out of fear, hate, self-loathing, whatever, we have less and less ability to trust those we work with. We demand of them to prove that they are not doing or simply are not something that we fear. Another example of this is the recent statute expanding CRB checks. This has an added benefit in that as well as automatically conferring suspicion on people, it requires a large number of people to be employed processing these claims. In this particular case a public service is demanding more information than it needs, for reasons of its own.
If the police cannot work with Neighbourhood Watch in a mutually beneficial arrangement, then which other organisations can do so?
A quote from the Kent News website where you can read the whole story:
A police spokesman confirmed that Superintendent Joanna Young, an Area Commander for Kent Police, had told the six volunteers they would not be allowed back into Herne Bay police station from January 20 if they didn’t sign the forms.
Police say the information is needed in case the volunteers become “vulnerable to financial inducements”.
A police spokesman said the vetting procedure was due to a new computer system set to launch next month which would give volunteers “controlled access” that could be used “for personal financial gain”.
“We value tremendously their support but the Kent force is not prepared to compromise the security of our systems.”
In other words, for wholly paranoid and controlling reasons, the police are acting in deliberate mistrust of an organisation whose whole purpose is to support the work of the over-stretched police forces of this country.
This is the way private and public contracts of all kinds are being run now: out of fear, hate, self-loathing, whatever, we have less and less ability to trust those we work with. We demand of them to prove that they are not doing or simply are not something that we fear. Another example of this is the recent statute expanding CRB checks. This has an added benefit in that as well as automatically conferring suspicion on people, it requires a large number of people to be employed processing these claims. In this particular case a public service is demanding more information than it needs, for reasons of its own.
If the police cannot work with Neighbourhood Watch in a mutually beneficial arrangement, then which other organisations can do so?
Friday, 12 January 2007
Borrowing...Stealing...Being Inspired
Following an inspiring post over at Sicily Scene, and trying to keep up with something Tom Paine said about me, I would like to recall something that means something to me.
I went to a private school (boo) with no real history of Oxbridge entry until my friend and I secured places in 1995. We liked to believe that we blazed a trail for the two genuinely talented guys beneath us, Peter Harrison and someone else to follow in 1996 - real name, for a reason that will become clear.
We were not great mates with the two, but once they came up to Oxford we became very close friends, playing snooker, getting babs (kebabs, not a misspelling of "babes" - heaven forfend - we were geeks' geeks), drinking cider, until some time after we left Oxford; when I at least, lost touch around five years ago.
I met a guy in the pub in June last year who was friends with all of us.
"Did you hear about Pete Harrison?" he said.
"No," I replied, thinking he'd become a CEO or been made a chess grandmaster.
"He died."
My world fell beneath me. Pete had been ill, and had been suffering the last time I met him, when he had told me, and because of some total inadequacy on my part, I had _forgotten_ - I mean, deliberately so. The memory of his telling me only surfaced at the moment I heard he had died.
Peter has, at least, if he is around anywhere, the satisfaction of a beautiful obit in the school mag: what it does not say is that he was teased for years - when he got to Oxford he finally met people of his intellectual calibre and was utterly unlike many of them. Unassuming, funny, modest, loving life, trying to discover- that was Peter, and friendly to boot. Pete was way, way above me. In all ways. He was a great man and he is a loss not just to his family, but to life. To the world.
Pete - I miss you and I am sorry for losing contact when I should have been close to hand. I think of your floppy blond fringe and your horse-like laugh, your intelligence and your humanity.
The soul...goes beyond being...and enters...the divine world...
I went to a private school (boo) with no real history of Oxbridge entry until my friend and I secured places in 1995. We liked to believe that we blazed a trail for the two genuinely talented guys beneath us, Peter Harrison and someone else to follow in 1996 - real name, for a reason that will become clear.
We were not great mates with the two, but once they came up to Oxford we became very close friends, playing snooker, getting babs (kebabs, not a misspelling of "babes" - heaven forfend - we were geeks' geeks), drinking cider, until some time after we left Oxford; when I at least, lost touch around five years ago.
I met a guy in the pub in June last year who was friends with all of us.
"Did you hear about Pete Harrison?" he said.
"No," I replied, thinking he'd become a CEO or been made a chess grandmaster.
"He died."
My world fell beneath me. Pete had been ill, and had been suffering the last time I met him, when he had told me, and because of some total inadequacy on my part, I had _forgotten_ - I mean, deliberately so. The memory of his telling me only surfaced at the moment I heard he had died.
Peter has, at least, if he is around anywhere, the satisfaction of a beautiful obit in the school mag: what it does not say is that he was teased for years - when he got to Oxford he finally met people of his intellectual calibre and was utterly unlike many of them. Unassuming, funny, modest, loving life, trying to discover- that was Peter, and friendly to boot. Pete was way, way above me. In all ways. He was a great man and he is a loss not just to his family, but to life. To the world.
Pete - I miss you and I am sorry for losing contact when I should have been close to hand. I think of your floppy blond fringe and your horse-like laugh, your intelligence and your humanity.
The soul...goes beyond being...and enters...the divine world...
Wednesday, 10 January 2007
Tin Testimonials
I've been meaning to do this for a while: it's an idea floated by James Higham and carried out by several, including, spectacularly, Tom Paine.
So, without further ado, here's my selection of 10 BlogPowerers:
Nourishing Obscurity. James Higham's prodigious work rate leaves most of us feeling like arthritic old stonemasons. His range of interests is huge, and generally, he lightly dusts his eclectic posts with his points of view, rather than browbeating us with rants. It is always a pleasure to read James and to uncover another nugget of news or culture that had completely passed me by.
Sicily Scene This blog is a ray of Mediterranean sunshine, with its mixture of food, drink, culture and everyday life. Sensitively written with love and thoughtfulness, it is an insight into both a life, and a way of life.
An Insomniac Matt is a very bright and well read man, whose views on subjects ranging from religion to Torchwood are invariably fascinating and, above all, humane. His blog, like many of the best, ranges from the nibble-post to the extensive argument and you can rely on it for something to amuse or interest you, and above all, to make you think.
Adelaide Green Porridge Cafe. Colin gives us a Scot's view of life in Australia, with personal stuff, politics, sport and things that make him laugh all included. I find Colin's style very amusing, wry and clever. His blog is the one to turn to for the latest Australian political outrage, or just for the latest bit of funny-but-true (or in the case of the cricket, unfunny-but-sadly-true).
Bel is ThinkingBel writes with passion and knowledge on politics from a right of centre perspective. Her style is very easy on the eye and extremely engaging: I can often feel my rage building as I read the latest governmental idiocy exposed. Bel also engages fully in the discussions on her blog, which are full, cover lots of viewpoints, and are invariably thoughtful. One of my daily reads, beginning to outrank Iain Dale for politics (for me)!
Not Saussure Not Saussure is one of the cleverest bloggers on BP and the one with the keenest eye for detail. He can be relied on to get right to the heart of a political or cultural matter, to dispel prejudice and ignorance, and to debate the subject fully in the comments. A real gem of a cultural and political blogger.
The Last Ditch It was a brilliantly thoughtful post on atheism which first drew Tom Paine to my attention and since then he has continued to inspire, with his well-reasoned and often furious posts on politics. His devotion to his series of testimonials has revealed a keen eye for character and a real interest in the motivations of the bloggers he writes about. A class writer and thinker.
Ellee Seymour Ellee is a blogger with a profile beyond most our dreams. Her writing on political issues is incisive and opinionated, usually very well researched: this is a blogger who really knows what they're talking about and who has really thought before deciding on her opinion. The debates in the comments are often extensive and reveal a range of views.
Morag the Mindbender. Morag is a very lively writer, whose work bounces along with opinion, rage, and intelligence. She takes strong views and explains them with humour and an appeal to the humanity of others. Her posts are generally detailed and knowledgeable, and reading her views is becoming an increasing necessity.
Corporate Presenter Jeremy Jacobs' blog is a fascinating mix of presenting, media, politics and humour. He writes with verve, irony and a dry wit. His presenting posts are always interesting to those of us who know absolutely nothing about it, but all of his posts are engaging and well worth a read.
There it is. Sorry for any inaccuracies!
UPDATE, 9.05PM: Quick extra-testimonial to WESTMINSTER WISDOM in the comments.
UPDATE 12/1/07, 7.40PM: Grammatical error fixed.
UPDATE 12/1/07: 8.10PM: Grammar/Spelling errors fixed. I am rubbish at writing.
So, without further ado, here's my selection of 10 BlogPowerers:
Nourishing Obscurity. James Higham's prodigious work rate leaves most of us feeling like arthritic old stonemasons. His range of interests is huge, and generally, he lightly dusts his eclectic posts with his points of view, rather than browbeating us with rants. It is always a pleasure to read James and to uncover another nugget of news or culture that had completely passed me by.
Sicily Scene This blog is a ray of Mediterranean sunshine, with its mixture of food, drink, culture and everyday life. Sensitively written with love and thoughtfulness, it is an insight into both a life, and a way of life.
An Insomniac Matt is a very bright and well read man, whose views on subjects ranging from religion to Torchwood are invariably fascinating and, above all, humane. His blog, like many of the best, ranges from the nibble-post to the extensive argument and you can rely on it for something to amuse or interest you, and above all, to make you think.
Adelaide Green Porridge Cafe. Colin gives us a Scot's view of life in Australia, with personal stuff, politics, sport and things that make him laugh all included. I find Colin's style very amusing, wry and clever. His blog is the one to turn to for the latest Australian political outrage, or just for the latest bit of funny-but-true (or in the case of the cricket, unfunny-but-sadly-true).
Bel is ThinkingBel writes with passion and knowledge on politics from a right of centre perspective. Her style is very easy on the eye and extremely engaging: I can often feel my rage building as I read the latest governmental idiocy exposed. Bel also engages fully in the discussions on her blog, which are full, cover lots of viewpoints, and are invariably thoughtful. One of my daily reads, beginning to outrank Iain Dale for politics (for me)!
Not Saussure Not Saussure is one of the cleverest bloggers on BP and the one with the keenest eye for detail. He can be relied on to get right to the heart of a political or cultural matter, to dispel prejudice and ignorance, and to debate the subject fully in the comments. A real gem of a cultural and political blogger.
The Last Ditch It was a brilliantly thoughtful post on atheism which first drew Tom Paine to my attention and since then he has continued to inspire, with his well-reasoned and often furious posts on politics. His devotion to his series of testimonials has revealed a keen eye for character and a real interest in the motivations of the bloggers he writes about. A class writer and thinker.
Ellee Seymour Ellee is a blogger with a profile beyond most our dreams. Her writing on political issues is incisive and opinionated, usually very well researched: this is a blogger who really knows what they're talking about and who has really thought before deciding on her opinion. The debates in the comments are often extensive and reveal a range of views.
Morag the Mindbender. Morag is a very lively writer, whose work bounces along with opinion, rage, and intelligence. She takes strong views and explains them with humour and an appeal to the humanity of others. Her posts are generally detailed and knowledgeable, and reading her views is becoming an increasing necessity.
Corporate Presenter Jeremy Jacobs' blog is a fascinating mix of presenting, media, politics and humour. He writes with verve, irony and a dry wit. His presenting posts are always interesting to those of us who know absolutely nothing about it, but all of his posts are engaging and well worth a read.
There it is. Sorry for any inaccuracies!
UPDATE, 9.05PM: Quick extra-testimonial to WESTMINSTER WISDOM in the comments.
UPDATE 12/1/07, 7.40PM: Grammatical error fixed.
UPDATE 12/1/07: 8.10PM: Grammar/Spelling errors fixed. I am rubbish at writing.
On Parliament
Today a Lib Dem MP appeared on Radio 5 Live complaining about the procedures and atmosphere of the House of Commons at PMQs. I have no problem with criticism of the procedures, but her attitude to the way debate was conducted was that fierce, aggressive debate, which includes attempted intimidation and humiliation was "no way to run a democracy". I couldn't disagree more. If you have what it takes to run the country, you must be able to promote and justify your views in the face of the fiercest criticism and the loudest laughter when you rise to speak. A vigorous democracy should not be run by a mealy mouthed "consensus" where everything is stitched up behind the scenes by people who basically agree with each other, like the EU has been for years (Tony's ambitions to be a leader in Europe never recovered from how he was completely stitched up over CAP reform). A healthy democracy should contain difference of opinion, dissent and disagreement, however offensive this disagreement may appear to some, however "right" one position may seem. And if you are a leader, which by definition MPs are, you should be able to handle the bear pit. I see no reason for governments to be treated with respect, nor for individual MPs to demand to be heard respectfully. If you can make yourself heard, and thereby respected, you deserve to be an MP. If not - tough. Do something else - become a teacher, another job where you are responsible for making people hear, and they have no obligation to listen unless you can inspire them.
Monday, 8 January 2007
If He Can Do it....
I've just seen lightweight 80s children's tv presenter Simon Parkin ("Simon Parkin's always larking" in the words of the immortal song) on Thames Valley Tonight - as the "weatherman".
Well with reference to Jeremy Jacobs' new year tag, if Parkin, chiefly known for being a professional prat, can reinvent himself, I'm sure I can.
Well with reference to Jeremy Jacobs' new year tag, if Parkin, chiefly known for being a professional prat, can reinvent himself, I'm sure I can.
Ghostwatch
I've been watching this classic 1992 mockumentary starring Michael Parkinson and the surprisingly good Sarah Greene again lately and I've been trying to put my finger on exactly why it leaves me feeling uneasy, despite being a 30 year old who has never experienced the supernatural in any direct way. It may well be that this is in fact the reason, but that aside, there are a number of threads in it I'd like to draw out. If you're unfamiliar with the programme, look it up on wikipedia. The following ramble does contain spoilers.
Firstly the setting is Northolt. Ever since I was very small I have always found the concept of a supernatural event in a totally banal setting quite terrifying. To the extent that for some years in my teens (caused by what I'm not sure) I found something deeply spooky about rows of terraces and semis themselves. In my twenties of course, this transmuted into a similar fear, via Threads,this time of the same streets being blown apart. For me as a child and in some lingering sense as an adult, to look at a switched off television, empty arm chair or dark landing - is itself disquieting.
Secondly there is something more than ghostly about it. As is suggested on the commentary on the DVD, poltergeist cases generally carry with them the hint of psychosexual drama: they ask us questions about what teenage girls (who are often at the centre of these dramas) are: are they children to be protected, or are they "people who can be reacted to sexually" (a slight paraphrase of the show's producer on the commentary). Our culture has a deepening conflict here, and I just wonder, watching the sensitive way Ghostwatch develops the elder girl as very much being on a cusp between vulnerable childhood and powerful, independent adolescence, how well we're dealing with it. Sexuality is later revealed to be relevant, albeit as paedophilia; and there are passing references throughout to girls going missing, and brutal (possibly sexual) murders.
Thirdly the conceit - of how a 90s style daytime tv show would handle a genuine supernatural event - is very well handled. It plays effectively on the unthreatening and cheerful screen personalities of its presenters, in the process exposing the reassuring distance and "control" we subconsciously expect from our tv shows. Yes, we can and have, many times, deconstructed television. But we all turn to it, still, as a source of information and comfort.
Fourthly, the poltergeist is thoroughly nasty. It is some kind of composite, or aggregate of historical evil: evil is here shown to have a real existence. We don't like this concept, generally speaking but for me at least it retains its power. Unlike real world poltergeist activity this one does actually harm people and has a plan, which it executes. Like with The Ring, I have a lot of trouble, intellectually and morally, with supernatural beings who just happen to be unadulteratedly nasty. I don't really know why. Incidentally, I find the US version of the The Ring more frightening than the Japanese original.
there had been discussion, before it was transmitted on 31.10.92, as to whether Ghostwatch was a real documentary or not. Quite apart from the credits, and the Screen One drama stand logo, and the Radio Times listing, the cue for disbelief is in the tree foliage you see within one minute, and the too-good home video footage. But it undeniably feels real, especially to someone whose childhood was largely spent watching Sarah Greene and Mike Smith on children's or childish programmes as well as Craig Charles on Red Dwarf.
If you have seen it, I'd appreciate your thoughts (on the show and on my neuroses). If you haven't - get it on dvd asap.
Firstly the setting is Northolt. Ever since I was very small I have always found the concept of a supernatural event in a totally banal setting quite terrifying. To the extent that for some years in my teens (caused by what I'm not sure) I found something deeply spooky about rows of terraces and semis themselves. In my twenties of course, this transmuted into a similar fear, via Threads,this time of the same streets being blown apart. For me as a child and in some lingering sense as an adult, to look at a switched off television, empty arm chair or dark landing - is itself disquieting.
Secondly there is something more than ghostly about it. As is suggested on the commentary on the DVD, poltergeist cases generally carry with them the hint of psychosexual drama: they ask us questions about what teenage girls (who are often at the centre of these dramas) are: are they children to be protected, or are they "people who can be reacted to sexually" (a slight paraphrase of the show's producer on the commentary). Our culture has a deepening conflict here, and I just wonder, watching the sensitive way Ghostwatch develops the elder girl as very much being on a cusp between vulnerable childhood and powerful, independent adolescence, how well we're dealing with it. Sexuality is later revealed to be relevant, albeit as paedophilia; and there are passing references throughout to girls going missing, and brutal (possibly sexual) murders.
Thirdly the conceit - of how a 90s style daytime tv show would handle a genuine supernatural event - is very well handled. It plays effectively on the unthreatening and cheerful screen personalities of its presenters, in the process exposing the reassuring distance and "control" we subconsciously expect from our tv shows. Yes, we can and have, many times, deconstructed television. But we all turn to it, still, as a source of information and comfort.
Fourthly, the poltergeist is thoroughly nasty. It is some kind of composite, or aggregate of historical evil: evil is here shown to have a real existence. We don't like this concept, generally speaking but for me at least it retains its power. Unlike real world poltergeist activity this one does actually harm people and has a plan, which it executes. Like with The Ring, I have a lot of trouble, intellectually and morally, with supernatural beings who just happen to be unadulteratedly nasty. I don't really know why. Incidentally, I find the US version of the The Ring more frightening than the Japanese original.
there had been discussion, before it was transmitted on 31.10.92, as to whether Ghostwatch was a real documentary or not. Quite apart from the credits, and the Screen One drama stand logo, and the Radio Times listing, the cue for disbelief is in the tree foliage you see within one minute, and the too-good home video footage. But it undeniably feels real, especially to someone whose childhood was largely spent watching Sarah Greene and Mike Smith on children's or childish programmes as well as Craig Charles on Red Dwarf.
If you have seen it, I'd appreciate your thoughts (on the show and on my neuroses). If you haven't - get it on dvd asap.
Sunday, 7 January 2007
Ashesto...Oh bloody hell, alright then
Although I've been leaving comments on various blogs, like little thought-turds, I've avoided posting myself about England's meeker than meek surrender of the Ashes.
That's because brighter and more knowledgeable folk than myself have already done it to death. It's also because the reason is simple.
Our players weren't good enough.
Yes - we have good players; yes, sometimes they play well. But in cricket, as in other sports, we Englishers have a remarkable capacity for self-delusion when it comes to the talent of our players compared to other countries'. It is of a piece with football and all the "The Premiership is the best league in the world" crap - something said by people who barely know other leagues exist, I suspect. I've spent part of the afternoon watching another "great" English sportsman - Wayne Rooney. He's a good player, sure - but at the moment he's very, very far from being a world beater. The English cricketers are good players - at the moment, nothing more.
Michael Atherton in his trenchant Sunday Torygraph article today carries extracts from an interview with Steve Harmison which exposes the man's utter lack of desire, commitment or even interest in winning cricket matches for England:
'Andrew Flintoff didn't give you the new ball again in this Test match. Do you feel that you are now at a stage where you can reclaim the new ball again and lead the attack?'
'Don't know. You'll have to ask Andrew Flintoff about that. I don't know. I really don't know. We haven't had a conversation about it. I haven't had it since Brisbane, so I think you'll have to ask him about it. At the end of the day, I've got no queries about it. As long as I'm playing I'm happy to bowl anywhere.'
'Would you like to have the new ball?'
'I'm not particularly bothered, to be honest. At the end of the day I'm trying to get wickets with a ball that's as hard as possible. If that means the new ball so be it.'
'You're off home next week. Sad to be going?'
'No [big smile]. I'm sort of looking forward to getting away from it. At the end of the day it's been seven weeks of hard cricket and I've made my decision, and I'm going home to hopefully recharge the batteries in time for the West Indies in May, if selected.'
'It's a long time before the West Indies get to England. May 17 is the first Test, I think. What are you going to do between now and then to make sure that you are in the best possible mental and physical shape so that you are right for that first Test?'
'I'm not sure, to be honest. I think you'll have to ask Duncan Fletcher what the itinerary and plan is for those players who don't play one-day internationals and just play Tests. I'm sure Fletcher, like he always does, will look after the players in the best way possible and I'm sure he'll do it again. I imagine there will be a lot of county cricket before then. Obviously, we've been going non-stop since India, so a nice little recharge of the batteries to be mentally fresh for coming into the Test series in three, four, five months' time.'
Those of us who've believed for a while that he doesn't really like cricket had these prejudices confirmed by his comments. England players are chock-full of "attitude" of a certain kind: the relentless almost hysterical self-assertion that leads to stupid haircuts, massive tattoos, ghosted columns in newspapers and adverts for this that and the other. But they lack the only "attitude" that matters in sport. The will to win, at all, any cost. Last year, Australia, seeing that they were at the top of world cricket by some margin, announced that henceforth they'd be doing everything in accordance with the utterly mythical "spirit of cricket" and that sledging, intimidatory play, failing to walk and so on were therefore not de rigeur any longer. This year all that has gone: it was just a device for ensuring no-one reached their heights by the same methods they did in the first place. Australian players want to win for Australia. They love the symbols (the baggy green), the history (only Australian cricket would deliberately connect a wartime massacre with a Test series) and the place itself they come from and are part of. Cricket, for Australians, embraces the developing culture of a country moving onwards and building its own cultural heritage. Cricket is not just sport for them: it embraces cultural achievement and a deep history within a context.
All of these are things we deeply worry about: we have no cultural confidence at all. Giving youngsters at the ECB Academy lessons in English Cricket History, quite apart from being hilarious, would be pointless. No one would care. The three lions tattoos that adorn some players' arms (I'm thinking of Flintoff and Pietersen) are symbols, not of love of one's country, but of one's insecure belief in that love. You cannot give English (or English-qualified) players the will to win the Australians have because we don't believe in anything to win for. We can, and will win, games and series. But the sustained excellence of Australia or West Indies is well beyond us in the modern world.
That's because brighter and more knowledgeable folk than myself have already done it to death. It's also because the reason is simple.
Our players weren't good enough.
Yes - we have good players; yes, sometimes they play well. But in cricket, as in other sports, we Englishers have a remarkable capacity for self-delusion when it comes to the talent of our players compared to other countries'. It is of a piece with football and all the "The Premiership is the best league in the world" crap - something said by people who barely know other leagues exist, I suspect. I've spent part of the afternoon watching another "great" English sportsman - Wayne Rooney. He's a good player, sure - but at the moment he's very, very far from being a world beater. The English cricketers are good players - at the moment, nothing more.
Michael Atherton in his trenchant Sunday Torygraph article today carries extracts from an interview with Steve Harmison which exposes the man's utter lack of desire, commitment or even interest in winning cricket matches for England:
'Andrew Flintoff didn't give you the new ball again in this Test match. Do you feel that you are now at a stage where you can reclaim the new ball again and lead the attack?'
'Don't know. You'll have to ask Andrew Flintoff about that. I don't know. I really don't know. We haven't had a conversation about it. I haven't had it since Brisbane, so I think you'll have to ask him about it. At the end of the day, I've got no queries about it. As long as I'm playing I'm happy to bowl anywhere.'
'Would you like to have the new ball?'
'I'm not particularly bothered, to be honest. At the end of the day I'm trying to get wickets with a ball that's as hard as possible. If that means the new ball so be it.'
'You're off home next week. Sad to be going?'
'No [big smile]. I'm sort of looking forward to getting away from it. At the end of the day it's been seven weeks of hard cricket and I've made my decision, and I'm going home to hopefully recharge the batteries in time for the West Indies in May, if selected.'
'It's a long time before the West Indies get to England. May 17 is the first Test, I think. What are you going to do between now and then to make sure that you are in the best possible mental and physical shape so that you are right for that first Test?'
'I'm not sure, to be honest. I think you'll have to ask Duncan Fletcher what the itinerary and plan is for those players who don't play one-day internationals and just play Tests. I'm sure Fletcher, like he always does, will look after the players in the best way possible and I'm sure he'll do it again. I imagine there will be a lot of county cricket before then. Obviously, we've been going non-stop since India, so a nice little recharge of the batteries to be mentally fresh for coming into the Test series in three, four, five months' time.'
Those of us who've believed for a while that he doesn't really like cricket had these prejudices confirmed by his comments. England players are chock-full of "attitude" of a certain kind: the relentless almost hysterical self-assertion that leads to stupid haircuts, massive tattoos, ghosted columns in newspapers and adverts for this that and the other. But they lack the only "attitude" that matters in sport. The will to win, at all, any cost. Last year, Australia, seeing that they were at the top of world cricket by some margin, announced that henceforth they'd be doing everything in accordance with the utterly mythical "spirit of cricket" and that sledging, intimidatory play, failing to walk and so on were therefore not de rigeur any longer. This year all that has gone: it was just a device for ensuring no-one reached their heights by the same methods they did in the first place. Australian players want to win for Australia. They love the symbols (the baggy green), the history (only Australian cricket would deliberately connect a wartime massacre with a Test series) and the place itself they come from and are part of. Cricket, for Australians, embraces the developing culture of a country moving onwards and building its own cultural heritage. Cricket is not just sport for them: it embraces cultural achievement and a deep history within a context.
All of these are things we deeply worry about: we have no cultural confidence at all. Giving youngsters at the ECB Academy lessons in English Cricket History, quite apart from being hilarious, would be pointless. No one would care. The three lions tattoos that adorn some players' arms (I'm thinking of Flintoff and Pietersen) are symbols, not of love of one's country, but of one's insecure belief in that love. You cannot give English (or English-qualified) players the will to win the Australians have because we don't believe in anything to win for. We can, and will win, games and series. But the sustained excellence of Australia or West Indies is well beyond us in the modern world.
R Tape Loading Error, 0:1
via Dizzy I found this website. I think that is all there is, but it made me laugh. In fact it's a myth that you'd load something for 15 minutes on a Spectrum and then it would trump your expectations with this oft-seen message. In the classic Speccy age (ie before Amstrad took over Sinclair) the 48K games generally took less than 10 minutes to load and many only a couple of minutes (less than it takes my pc to wheeze Age of Empires into gear). A brilliant game like Horace Goes Skiing took hardly any time at all and was extremely reliable. Of course it wasn't the games that were the problem, but the cable-connected tape recorder which sometimes had to be propped up, or the cables sellotaped in. It was really later, when the redesigned (and much less sexy) Amstrad Spectrums (or should that be Spectra) had built in tape decks and 128K that games could take the thick end of 20 minutes to load.
The point for me about the Sinclair ZX Spectrum for me was this: it was an idiosyncratic little thing, beautiful in its own way but quite hard to use (a clumsy 8 year old like me was no good with the rubber keys). The error messages like the famous one above were masterpieces of stubborn understatement, often insistently cropping up at the least appropriate moment. You couldn't type rude messages onto it because the keys always printed command words at the beginning of a line, which was a shame but it made writing (or in my case mostly copying out) BASIC programs easier. Even the data systems were idiosyncratic, like the microdrive, which I never had but always wanted: whatever else it may have been it was sexy and fitted the computer's design well. Its graphics were poor compared to the C64 and the Amstrad CPC464, but I always felt a little...underwhelmed using these devices. They lacked a joie de vivre that the Speccy made its own.
At least you got error messages regularly with a Spectrum: my pc just freezes or restarts with no warning at all most of the time and you've no idea what's gone wrong.
The point for me about the Sinclair ZX Spectrum for me was this: it was an idiosyncratic little thing, beautiful in its own way but quite hard to use (a clumsy 8 year old like me was no good with the rubber keys). The error messages like the famous one above were masterpieces of stubborn understatement, often insistently cropping up at the least appropriate moment. You couldn't type rude messages onto it because the keys always printed command words at the beginning of a line, which was a shame but it made writing (or in my case mostly copying out) BASIC programs easier. Even the data systems were idiosyncratic, like the microdrive, which I never had but always wanted: whatever else it may have been it was sexy and fitted the computer's design well. Its graphics were poor compared to the C64 and the Amstrad CPC464, but I always felt a little...underwhelmed using these devices. They lacked a joie de vivre that the Speccy made its own.
At least you got error messages regularly with a Spectrum: my pc just freezes or restarts with no warning at all most of the time and you've no idea what's gone wrong.
Saturday, 6 January 2007
Another Tag
Corporate Presenter has tagged me thusly:
We're a week into 2007. Do you know what you want to achieve by the end of January? Have you set goals to reach by the end of the first quarter?
If not, why not?
Have you taken on too much, or are you in a dither as to know what to do?
Just how is it for you on the morning of January 6th?
answer: This is too difficult to answer properly. No I don't have any real goals, never have had: but I am at a point in life where I do need to set some. I have no proper work (although I teach, it's not full time anymore) and I need some. I suppose I'm in a dither, have been for a good twelvemonth or so. I always think that the Divine Comedy foreshadows Jung with its opening about the fork in the road at the midpoint of life; I have been standing at this crossroads for a while now - both roads look difficult and unappealing and it is physically impossible to take the road back, as it has disappeared.
Sorry not to give a humorous or effective answer, CP: but it's a question close to my heart and one I struggle with.
Enough of the personal stuff.
We're a week into 2007. Do you know what you want to achieve by the end of January? Have you set goals to reach by the end of the first quarter?
If not, why not?
Have you taken on too much, or are you in a dither as to know what to do?
Just how is it for you on the morning of January 6th?
answer: This is too difficult to answer properly. No I don't have any real goals, never have had: but I am at a point in life where I do need to set some. I have no proper work (although I teach, it's not full time anymore) and I need some. I suppose I'm in a dither, have been for a good twelvemonth or so. I always think that the Divine Comedy foreshadows Jung with its opening about the fork in the road at the midpoint of life; I have been standing at this crossroads for a while now - both roads look difficult and unappealing and it is physically impossible to take the road back, as it has disappeared.
Sorry not to give a humorous or effective answer, CP: but it's a question close to my heart and one I struggle with.
Enough of the personal stuff.
Thursday, 4 January 2007
The Newish Martin Amis
A lot of people, rightly, suspected that the great man had gone off the boil a bit in the twenty first century. Although Experience was well received,justifiably, Koba the Dread attracted an awful lot of criticism, some of which was justified, some not. And Yellow Dog...well...put it this way. I remember nothing of that book. Nothing at all.
Let me summarise what I think Amis is brilliant at:
1. The startlingly appropriate and arresting turn of phrase.
2. Black comedy.
3. Endings.
4. Imagery.
5. He can create some ridiculously memorable characters, who can be, within the one person, cariacature, self-reference, and subtle (I think Richard Tull has a bit of this, and almost any character from London Fields).
But - when he gets too lost in his own turns of phrase, or is too clumsy with his political obsessions (nuclear war, the twentieth century's horror), he loses sight of his own story, and bad Amis is unreadable. I wonder if the closing of the C20 left Amis rudderless, without the motivating force of his imagination.
House of Meetings, his latest, seems to me to be Amis feeling his way slowly back to form. He has lost a lot of the ornament of Yellow Dog and previous books; he has moved off the well worn "low life" patch onto something more bleakly low; he has devoted a whole, though short, book, to the creation of a character based in pain. Other writers have done this lots of times, but I haven't read a lot of Amis that approaches this for consistency and feeling. His political concerns sit, sometimes foregrounded, sometimes not, even if the character reads himself explicitly as Russia. I think he is moving towards a stronger synthesis of an experience that (as I've said before here) I think we're still living through. But for me - the main thing is that the language is sharper, much more focused, much less pointlessly showy and is in fact consistently poignant and thought-provoking.
It's not a work of genius, but it could be seen as a revision of his last couple of books, a radical redrafting, and it sets him on a much more promising course than it looked like he was on in 2004.
Let me summarise what I think Amis is brilliant at:
1. The startlingly appropriate and arresting turn of phrase.
2. Black comedy.
3. Endings.
4. Imagery.
5. He can create some ridiculously memorable characters, who can be, within the one person, cariacature, self-reference, and subtle (I think Richard Tull has a bit of this, and almost any character from London Fields).
But - when he gets too lost in his own turns of phrase, or is too clumsy with his political obsessions (nuclear war, the twentieth century's horror), he loses sight of his own story, and bad Amis is unreadable. I wonder if the closing of the C20 left Amis rudderless, without the motivating force of his imagination.
House of Meetings, his latest, seems to me to be Amis feeling his way slowly back to form. He has lost a lot of the ornament of Yellow Dog and previous books; he has moved off the well worn "low life" patch onto something more bleakly low; he has devoted a whole, though short, book, to the creation of a character based in pain. Other writers have done this lots of times, but I haven't read a lot of Amis that approaches this for consistency and feeling. His political concerns sit, sometimes foregrounded, sometimes not, even if the character reads himself explicitly as Russia. I think he is moving towards a stronger synthesis of an experience that (as I've said before here) I think we're still living through. But for me - the main thing is that the language is sharper, much more focused, much less pointlessly showy and is in fact consistently poignant and thought-provoking.
It's not a work of genius, but it could be seen as a revision of his last couple of books, a radical redrafting, and it sets him on a much more promising course than it looked like he was on in 2004.
Tuesday, 2 January 2007
Erm...New Year
I've left the Happy off because I'm not at all delighted by the prospect of a New Year, nor am I sad or nostalgic for the old one. 2006 was a miserable, mean-spirited year, which ended with typical nasty prurience with the widespread viewing of Saddam's execution. I oppose the death penalty; and I have no sympathy for Saddam: but our media's obsession with the footage has been grisly and almost pornographic. Any optimism I might have had for the new year dissipated before it had even begun in the homespun yet exotic-and-enticing footage of Saddam about to drop (in some papers they helpfully showed the pictures of the drop itself). Rubbish and disgusting.
On a lighter note, thanks to all those who left messages for me over the holiday period. I wanted-and needed- a time off to recharge and to stop churning out rubbish ten or so times a week. I am back, but I don't feel any better about the world or the future. I'm with the french anti-2007 protestors from Nantes, who rightly opposed the relentless and damaging march of time, refused to recognise the new year and immediately, on the striking of midnight, starting anti-2008 protests.
Let us return to 1982: at least then we'd have 3 glorious years of Peter Davison as Doctor Who to look forward to.
On a lighter note, thanks to all those who left messages for me over the holiday period. I wanted-and needed- a time off to recharge and to stop churning out rubbish ten or so times a week. I am back, but I don't feel any better about the world or the future. I'm with the french anti-2007 protestors from Nantes, who rightly opposed the relentless and damaging march of time, refused to recognise the new year and immediately, on the striking of midnight, starting anti-2008 protests.
Let us return to 1982: at least then we'd have 3 glorious years of Peter Davison as Doctor Who to look forward to.
Thursday, 21 December 2006
Christmas CloseDown
I'm following the lead of several other bloggers here and shutting down over Christmas and New Year. Unless something truly amazing happens, there won't be any more posts from me over this period. Amazing events which could invalidate this decision would include:
Faber & Faber to offer TD a massive contract for a volume of poetry
Blair to Resign
Queen to Resign
End of World Nigh
Invasion by Extra-Terrestrials
England Win Test Match
Otherwise - Happy Christmas and best wishes for a successful and blogful New Year.
Faber & Faber to offer TD a massive contract for a volume of poetry
Blair to Resign
Queen to Resign
End of World Nigh
Invasion by Extra-Terrestrials
England Win Test Match
Otherwise - Happy Christmas and best wishes for a successful and blogful New Year.
Wednesday, 20 December 2006
Holocaust Denier Not Released
David Irving was not recommended for release today. These sources which claim that he was, ie the BBC, are just the mouthpieces of Zionist propaganda. Until I see some solid evidence - namely the bricks of his cell, and eyewitness testimony from people who can be trusted - which clearly does not include his jailors or people who were there as they obviously have axes to grind - I will remain convinced that David Irving is behind bars, where the miserable old git belongs. As for this ghastly "holocaust denier" industry that has grown up around him, it's all a load of fetid dingo's kidneys. David Irving is in jail, has always been in jail, and will always be in jail. Indeed, I've written a little poem about it:
David Irving is a jailbird
In fact he is a smelly old turd
We'd like to see him in the shit
But he already lives in it.
David Irving is a jailbird
In fact he is a smelly old turd
We'd like to see him in the shit
But he already lives in it.
Drummer Online, Warne Offline?
I think the comment thing has sorted itself out now, which is a shame, in a way, because I don't have anything amusing or learned to say at the moment.
I think - and I stress think - that I am going to be on Radio 5 Live this afternoon; I've been asked to present myself to Radio Gloucester studios at 3.30pm for a recorded piece, so I don't know when it'll be on - Drive maybe?
One genuine bit of news I've read this morning: is Shane Warne about to announce his retirement from international cricket? The thing about cricket is that it really does emphasise the appreciation of genius, wherever it is found. I remember Peter Baxter swatting a question from Charlie Whelan on 5 Live a few years ago when Whelan said that it would be a good thing if Warne was injured and couldn't play, to which Baxter replied: "No, not really." And Warne is nothing if not a bona fide genius, a man who make things happen, bend a game of 22 players and several umpires to his will, and create wickets in the least promising situations. At the Oval last year England were flaying the tired Aussie attack in the first innings until Warne came on and just ran through the top order on the first day of the match. Leg-spinners are not supposed to do that. Shane Warne is, perhaps, the greatest player of cricket, up there with Bradman and Grace: and more, he single-handedly rescued leg spin bowling from an era in which blasting batsman out was regarded as the way to go. Suddenly you didn't have to be brave but clever, to stay in. He is a master of a difficult art and a testament to the fizzing inventiveness and cunning of the game of cricket.
Sir Shane Warne, surely?
I think - and I stress think - that I am going to be on Radio 5 Live this afternoon; I've been asked to present myself to Radio Gloucester studios at 3.30pm for a recorded piece, so I don't know when it'll be on - Drive maybe?
One genuine bit of news I've read this morning: is Shane Warne about to announce his retirement from international cricket? The thing about cricket is that it really does emphasise the appreciation of genius, wherever it is found. I remember Peter Baxter swatting a question from Charlie Whelan on 5 Live a few years ago when Whelan said that it would be a good thing if Warne was injured and couldn't play, to which Baxter replied: "No, not really." And Warne is nothing if not a bona fide genius, a man who make things happen, bend a game of 22 players and several umpires to his will, and create wickets in the least promising situations. At the Oval last year England were flaying the tired Aussie attack in the first innings until Warne came on and just ran through the top order on the first day of the match. Leg-spinners are not supposed to do that. Shane Warne is, perhaps, the greatest player of cricket, up there with Bradman and Grace: and more, he single-handedly rescued leg spin bowling from an era in which blasting batsman out was regarded as the way to go. Suddenly you didn't have to be brave but clever, to stay in. He is a master of a difficult art and a testament to the fizzing inventiveness and cunning of the game of cricket.
Sir Shane Warne, surely?
Tuesday, 19 December 2006
Comment cock-up?
I've been informed that someone has tried to comment here and been unable to. I've no idea why because all putative comments are supposed to be emailed to me on the basis that I'm somewhat against free speech except for myself; but I've received no comment emails for ages.
Any ideas?
UPDATE: I've had a look on blogger and can't see any specific problems. As a geek but a non-technical one, I'm at a bit of a loss.
Any ideas?
UPDATE: I've had a look on blogger and can't see any specific problems. As a geek but a non-technical one, I'm at a bit of a loss.
Monday, 18 December 2006
No More Heroes
here are a couple of the guys I'm talking about. Sorry for crap picture quality.
Ian Curtis
Simon Topping (A Certain Ratio)
Larry Cassidy (section 25)
Ian Curtis
Simon Topping (A Certain Ratio)
Larry Cassidy (section 25)
The Greatest Record Label Ever
Look. I'm a bit parochial about my music: I'm located in the decayed late 70s, between the collapse of pay bargaining, sterling, the social contract, and the sudden realisation that we were going somewhere else; the world stood poised to get rid of itself. My posts have kind of indicated as much lately. In fact for me, that phase goes up to 1984. But I set the miners' strike as the end of this period. It's a violent clash of modes of living and entire ethical systems (imho of course) as well as the fight for work. I have been stuck as this point since discovering the Jam at the age of 13; something about it draws me back, as though the empty factories and waste grounds have something to say that we're still missing amid the shining glass and steel. As though a great struggle was being played out in the places I was born and did not grow up between the fading of meaning and the final (maybe) acceptance of the finity of systems. The long sandstone terraces look like unplayed keys and the fog hangs around for years at a time.
Nothing communicates all this to me more than Factory Records. Even the name. Martin Hannett was the musical genius inside this remarkable sound, this smashing of glass inside tight rusty cages. Tony Wilson may be a situationist twat but he _knows_ music, really knows it. I mean, leaving Joy Division to one side (because you have to); A Certain Ratio are just amazing. Do the Du is a fabulous brutal tune, and as for this one:
I'd pay in each and every way/to know the place/where people feel no anguish/and need no care
It's a corker. They scorch decay into words and they know it. Jazz-funk, whatever: A Certain Ratio are another picture of Britain in the gutter, but with a soul.
And then there's Section 25. A lot of their stuff is just too grim to listen to (the entire of The Key of Dreams for me) but From the Hip is about two years too early and is, besides, utterly gorgeous. Love and Hate...could have been amazing and I love Bad News Week and some other tracks.
There was so much talent at Factory: Happy Mondays fall outside my obsession but I recognise their genius too.
and then there is Joy Division. I have a lot to say about these guys which borders on the spiritualistic but is probably better left unsaid. The greatest band ever. The method by which dying cities call out to the future; the sound of...of...
factories, I guess. With the collective soul they imply and the sense of purpose, drifting towards closure.
I haven't attempted to analyse any of this carefully, because I have done so many times over the years and can't go over it all again: listen, listen and think.
Nothing communicates all this to me more than Factory Records. Even the name. Martin Hannett was the musical genius inside this remarkable sound, this smashing of glass inside tight rusty cages. Tony Wilson may be a situationist twat but he _knows_ music, really knows it. I mean, leaving Joy Division to one side (because you have to); A Certain Ratio are just amazing. Do the Du is a fabulous brutal tune, and as for this one:
I'd pay in each and every way/to know the place/where people feel no anguish/and need no care
It's a corker. They scorch decay into words and they know it. Jazz-funk, whatever: A Certain Ratio are another picture of Britain in the gutter, but with a soul.
And then there's Section 25. A lot of their stuff is just too grim to listen to (the entire of The Key of Dreams for me) but From the Hip is about two years too early and is, besides, utterly gorgeous. Love and Hate...could have been amazing and I love Bad News Week and some other tracks.
There was so much talent at Factory: Happy Mondays fall outside my obsession but I recognise their genius too.
and then there is Joy Division. I have a lot to say about these guys which borders on the spiritualistic but is probably better left unsaid. The greatest band ever. The method by which dying cities call out to the future; the sound of...of...
factories, I guess. With the collective soul they imply and the sense of purpose, drifting towards closure.
I haven't attempted to analyse any of this carefully, because I have done so many times over the years and can't go over it all again: listen, listen and think.
Don't Bother With the Karaoke
I'm a bit slow on the uptake with this story which surfaced yesterday. But it is shocking, if it is true. And the question that comes to mind is why? Well, for a start there is and has been considerable confusion nationwide as to how to teach reading, for quite a while. There has been a largely ideology driven debate between whole word (which became dominant during the 70s and 80s in educational academic circles) and phonic strategies (the more "traditional" style of breaking words down into sounds; and when the phonic system seemed to have won the day in the Literacy Strategy, it was hedged around with many "varieties of methods". (I'm not a Key Stage One specialist so I'm not sure of the techincalities of it). My observations of children still struggling years later tell me that whole word strategies work well in situations where children have a lot of books, a lot of reading with mum/whoever, and are keen story types. Phonics can't magic you a complete reading system, but it can do an awful lot of the groundwork.
But the Literacy Strategy has only been policy for about 7 years.
Children's books are going through a real renaissance: there are gorgeous picture books (Lauren Child etc) around and there are challenging, gripping books for 11+ (I don't like Melvin Burgess' books much, but there's no doubt they're a thoughtful read). The problem for me is that the inbetween stuff isn't as classy. There are some good series, and many good particular books, but the range isn't as good as the two ends of the spectrum. I think a lot of children get put off by leaving the reading scheme and finding - not very much. I'm also inclined to think there's too much that's procedural in our approach to reading, when it should be a constant, magnificent journey; teachers should be readers and be seen to be so, and discuss and swap and recommend, all the time.
I don't think as a culture we rate reading as highly as perhaps we did. Other forms of narrative are pushed just as hard, which is fine, except that the only one that needs real training to grasp and become independent with, is reading. We don't regard the ability to read as the glorious freedom, which once gained - with a bit of hard work - will let you run for as long as you live. I've heard recently from teachers that we should see it as a skill that some children will never be good at while they are good at other things. Fine - but the ability to read is, for me, something else entirely. It is the means to a degree of independence, intellectual, moral and practical, that it is very difficult to attain otherwise.
The story is dressed up as funny - it's not, it's a fucking tragedy and balls should be cut for the way we're allowing so many people (not a tiny minority) to suffer in this way.
But the Literacy Strategy has only been policy for about 7 years.
Children's books are going through a real renaissance: there are gorgeous picture books (Lauren Child etc) around and there are challenging, gripping books for 11+ (I don't like Melvin Burgess' books much, but there's no doubt they're a thoughtful read). The problem for me is that the inbetween stuff isn't as classy. There are some good series, and many good particular books, but the range isn't as good as the two ends of the spectrum. I think a lot of children get put off by leaving the reading scheme and finding - not very much. I'm also inclined to think there's too much that's procedural in our approach to reading, when it should be a constant, magnificent journey; teachers should be readers and be seen to be so, and discuss and swap and recommend, all the time.
I don't think as a culture we rate reading as highly as perhaps we did. Other forms of narrative are pushed just as hard, which is fine, except that the only one that needs real training to grasp and become independent with, is reading. We don't regard the ability to read as the glorious freedom, which once gained - with a bit of hard work - will let you run for as long as you live. I've heard recently from teachers that we should see it as a skill that some children will never be good at while they are good at other things. Fine - but the ability to read is, for me, something else entirely. It is the means to a degree of independence, intellectual, moral and practical, that it is very difficult to attain otherwise.
The story is dressed up as funny - it's not, it's a fucking tragedy and balls should be cut for the way we're allowing so many people (not a tiny minority) to suffer in this way.
Sunday, 17 December 2006
Jona Lewie Redirection
It has come to my attention that there is an mp3 of "Stop the Cavalry" available at www.the-morningstar.co.uk for you to download, if you are still typing in "...in the nuclear fallout zone" into Google searches and ending up here; it is, however, among some other somewhat Viz-like stuff.
A Repeat
A surprising amount of my traffic here at the moment is coming in the form of Google searches for a certain song's lyrics. To take from today's google search terms:
...the czar and jim have tea..waiting two years long...throughout the centuries...dub a dub a dum...
They almost make a poem by themselves. Is that Jim Callaghan, by the way, or Jimmy Carter? Not sure.
Accordingly, given that Google is sending people who want to know about Jona Lewie's "Stop the Cavalry" to my blog, I'm repeating my post of last Friday, partly to increase said traffic, but mainly to assist people in their search for meaning:
Well, pop-pickers, it's Christmas, and how better to celebrate it than with a song which neatly illustrates how 1914-1989 (or, in the lyricist's view, 1914 to date) is a continuum.
Jona Lewie, "Stop the Cavalry"
Hey, Mr. Churchill comes over here
To say we're doing splendidly.
But it's very cold out here in the snow
Marching to and from the enemy.
Oh I say it's tough, I have had enough,
Can you stop the cavalry?
I have had to fight almost every night,
Down throughout these centuries.
That is when I say, oh yes yet again,
Can you stop the cavalry?
Mary Bradley waits at home,
In the nuclear fallout zone.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Bang goes another bomb on another town
While the Czar and Jim have tea.
If I get home, live to tell the tale,
I'll run for all presidencies.
If I get elected I'll stop
I will stop the cavalry.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Mary Bradley waits at home,
She's been waiting two years long.
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Let's get one thing straight here: I loathe and detest Eric Hobsbawm for his hate filled, apologistic diatribes (or "Age of Extremes" as they're known) and his support for murderous dictatorships (as long as some socialist promised land is vaguely in sight somewhere - the Soviet Union must have been alright because, er, it had fewer prisoners than the US in 1989: that's his logic and it stinks like my farts) - but on this, he's right. 1914-1989 is better than his view of 1914-1991 (I think he said that so he could see the back of Thatcher and Reagan) - but I take his point that the war fever of 1914 is of a piece with Threads, and the population cowering underneath mattresses while they listen to or watch Casualties.
Why does the murder of Franz Ferdinand fill me with fear? Not only because of the unadulterated slaughter it helped to start, but because it so nearly led us to total destruction as well. When I posted earlier this week on "getting to grips with the twentieth century", I didn't mention this: but in my view Jimmy's mum and dad die as part of a series of psychoses, already existing, unleashed by that shot and built, sometimes lovingly, often carelessly, until this point where "we don't want the whole street blowing up while you're away" is a line of humourless irony in the face of total annihilation.
There it is. Hope it helps.
...the czar and jim have tea..waiting two years long...throughout the centuries...dub a dub a dum...
They almost make a poem by themselves. Is that Jim Callaghan, by the way, or Jimmy Carter? Not sure.
Accordingly, given that Google is sending people who want to know about Jona Lewie's "Stop the Cavalry" to my blog, I'm repeating my post of last Friday, partly to increase said traffic, but mainly to assist people in their search for meaning:
Well, pop-pickers, it's Christmas, and how better to celebrate it than with a song which neatly illustrates how 1914-1989 (or, in the lyricist's view, 1914 to date) is a continuum.
Jona Lewie, "Stop the Cavalry"
Hey, Mr. Churchill comes over here
To say we're doing splendidly.
But it's very cold out here in the snow
Marching to and from the enemy.
Oh I say it's tough, I have had enough,
Can you stop the cavalry?
I have had to fight almost every night,
Down throughout these centuries.
That is when I say, oh yes yet again,
Can you stop the cavalry?
Mary Bradley waits at home,
In the nuclear fallout zone.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Bang goes another bomb on another town
While the Czar and Jim have tea.
If I get home, live to tell the tale,
I'll run for all presidencies.
If I get elected I'll stop
I will stop the cavalry.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Mary Bradley waits at home,
She's been waiting two years long.
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Let's get one thing straight here: I loathe and detest Eric Hobsbawm for his hate filled, apologistic diatribes (or "Age of Extremes" as they're known) and his support for murderous dictatorships (as long as some socialist promised land is vaguely in sight somewhere - the Soviet Union must have been alright because, er, it had fewer prisoners than the US in 1989: that's his logic and it stinks like my farts) - but on this, he's right. 1914-1989 is better than his view of 1914-1991 (I think he said that so he could see the back of Thatcher and Reagan) - but I take his point that the war fever of 1914 is of a piece with Threads, and the population cowering underneath mattresses while they listen to or watch Casualties.
Why does the murder of Franz Ferdinand fill me with fear? Not only because of the unadulterated slaughter it helped to start, but because it so nearly led us to total destruction as well. When I posted earlier this week on "getting to grips with the twentieth century", I didn't mention this: but in my view Jimmy's mum and dad die as part of a series of psychoses, already existing, unleashed by that shot and built, sometimes lovingly, often carelessly, until this point where "we don't want the whole street blowing up while you're away" is a line of humourless irony in the face of total annihilation.
There it is. Hope it helps.
Thanks...I Mean..Really, I'm Just So...
Here's my acceptance speech on being voted Time Magazine's Person of the Year:
This is a great honour, which has come a complete surprise to me. Given that all I do is spend a couple of hours a day sitting on my arse writing a mixture of ignorance and half-digested nuggets of information, or semi-forgotten things I learned at school many years ago, and that I mix it all with a not too healthy dose of my personal prejudices, I think it's all the more impressive. But it's not just me being billy no mates, it's been a team effort at the end of the day, and a lot of people have given 110% to this project. I'd like to thank, firstly, Wikipedia, which has furnished me with more knowledge than I ever thought possible; blogger, who for reasons best known to themselves give me a free space to rant; my employers, for giving me a part time job so that I could spend time wittering into cyberspace instead of earning money; and finally, my family, who have not kicked me out yet. Blogging is a valuable contribution to the global debate, at its best it is a vigorous democratic sphere in which all the issues that get missed off the MSM find a place. For me, however, it's just a chance to mouth off a bit and stare at sitemeter with a slightly resentful frown.
This is a great honour, which has come a complete surprise to me. Given that all I do is spend a couple of hours a day sitting on my arse writing a mixture of ignorance and half-digested nuggets of information, or semi-forgotten things I learned at school many years ago, and that I mix it all with a not too healthy dose of my personal prejudices, I think it's all the more impressive. But it's not just me being billy no mates, it's been a team effort at the end of the day, and a lot of people have given 110% to this project. I'd like to thank, firstly, Wikipedia, which has furnished me with more knowledge than I ever thought possible; blogger, who for reasons best known to themselves give me a free space to rant; my employers, for giving me a part time job so that I could spend time wittering into cyberspace instead of earning money; and finally, my family, who have not kicked me out yet. Blogging is a valuable contribution to the global debate, at its best it is a vigorous democratic sphere in which all the issues that get missed off the MSM find a place. For me, however, it's just a chance to mouth off a bit and stare at sitemeter with a slightly resentful frown.
Saturday, 16 December 2006
Clarification
I'm not drunk, by the way, despite my previous post sounding like it. not had a drink all day. Perhaps that's the problem.
While we're in a cheerful mood, how about a piccy from my favourite film (which I've been thinking about owing to a depressing post by James Higham today)
While we're in a cheerful mood, how about a piccy from my favourite film (which I've been thinking about owing to a depressing post by James Higham today)
"He is Going to Lose, and Lose Big"
...was, I believe, a comment by John Major, that well known professor of language, during the first Gulf War in 1991.
Given today's performance by England, it does raise the issue of the best way to lose. Losing narrowly is a false dawn: you lost, but you think you could have won, should have, nearly did: damn it you did win, except for luck/umpiring decisions/unjust rules/the weather/the will of God. To lose narrowly is to assume, at some level of self delusion, that you won.
In Australia's case,this belief has hardened into a granite will actually to win, this time.
In Germany's case, in a slightly different context, the belief that "actually, we didn't lose. If you look at it, we've just agreed to a cessation of hostilities" - caused or helped to cause all sorts of problems.
England have a different view. They are going to lose, and lose in considerable style. This is how it goes.
1) Media talk: we're a good side/good players/but we need to bat down to 8/can't risk Monty/Chris Read is a pain in the arse and Geraint Jones is a good egg.
2) Opening salvo: first ball of series to 2nd slip. Do not pass bat, do not take edge, lose match.
3) Get into excellent positions: 551-6d, or Aus 244 all out.
4) Relinquish control in spectacular fashion - Gilchrist near record 100, incredible collapses, etc.
5) Lose.
6) Mutter about had x,y,z been different, we _might_ have won (but - and this is the crucial difference - not to really believe it. Hence no real changes are made, nothing done, nothing happens, no-one cares).
7) forget.
8) Next time around, start all over again.
To lose big is a state of mind, as well as a state of play. It is real, and psychological. It's a symbiotic thing. Each feeds the other. Technique problems feed the mental problems, the mental issues destroy the technique. Look at G Jones. It gives the enemy or the opposition not only the thrill of victory but the glory of humiliation; it rehabilitates their faded stars and ancient glory, it is talked about for years but not really remembered in any real sense.
Losing big is where you are, at the conclusionary phase of the planetary rotation.
We all lose big in the end, so let's get used to it. Winning is overrated anyway.
Given today's performance by England, it does raise the issue of the best way to lose. Losing narrowly is a false dawn: you lost, but you think you could have won, should have, nearly did: damn it you did win, except for luck/umpiring decisions/unjust rules/the weather/the will of God. To lose narrowly is to assume, at some level of self delusion, that you won.
In Australia's case,this belief has hardened into a granite will actually to win, this time.
In Germany's case, in a slightly different context, the belief that "actually, we didn't lose. If you look at it, we've just agreed to a cessation of hostilities" - caused or helped to cause all sorts of problems.
England have a different view. They are going to lose, and lose in considerable style. This is how it goes.
1) Media talk: we're a good side/good players/but we need to bat down to 8/can't risk Monty/Chris Read is a pain in the arse and Geraint Jones is a good egg.
2) Opening salvo: first ball of series to 2nd slip. Do not pass bat, do not take edge, lose match.
3) Get into excellent positions: 551-6d, or Aus 244 all out.
4) Relinquish control in spectacular fashion - Gilchrist near record 100, incredible collapses, etc.
5) Lose.
6) Mutter about had x,y,z been different, we _might_ have won (but - and this is the crucial difference - not to really believe it. Hence no real changes are made, nothing done, nothing happens, no-one cares).
7) forget.
8) Next time around, start all over again.
To lose big is a state of mind, as well as a state of play. It is real, and psychological. It's a symbiotic thing. Each feeds the other. Technique problems feed the mental problems, the mental issues destroy the technique. Look at G Jones. It gives the enemy or the opposition not only the thrill of victory but the glory of humiliation; it rehabilitates their faded stars and ancient glory, it is talked about for years but not really remembered in any real sense.
Losing big is where you are, at the conclusionary phase of the planetary rotation.
We all lose big in the end, so let's get used to it. Winning is overrated anyway.
Thursday, 14 December 2006
Conspiracy Update
On the other hand, the Diana inquiry, the closure of 2,500 post offices, Blair's chat with Inspector Knacker...and Monty in the Ashes...all on the same day??
Unconspired
To the non-surprise of nearly everyone except Mohammad al Fayed, Lord Stevens has announced that Diana's death was an accident.
It was caused, in the first instance, by the driver speeding and [being] over the legal drink-drive limit.
Naturally Al Fayed refuses to accept the judgement. I saw the BBC programme on Sunday in which his claims that the Duke of Edinburgh organised Diana's death because she was pregnant with a Muslim man's child were investigated...and saw it gently but firmly remove these arguments (assertions, really) from their moorings. It was a bizarre argument from the start, but one which makes a perfect sense if you take the view that Prince Phillip is not only an old fool, but actually evil and effective as well. And the villain of the piece is the "British establishment" - not the government - a motley concoction of secret service, royalty and civil servants, a type of British administration we thought died in the 50s. (I take the view, by the way, that Harold Wilson _was_ paranoid, and that the conspiracy to stage a coup was nothing more than the mutterings of disaffected old men - the 60s plot is nowhere to be seen in Dominic Sandbrook's or at least two of Peter Hennessy's (I haven't read all his stuff) authoritative books on 60s politics and culture - and with the standard of UK governance in the mid 70s the other one would have been a total and utter f*** up from start to finish anyway. And the old buffers involved were totally crackers if they thought this: Mountbatten, as both a member of the Royal family and a former Chief of the Defence Staff, would be able to command public support as leader of a non-democratic government(Wikipedia)). Jesus, when had the UK had a military government before then? Where the f*** did they think they were living?
But there's no doubt there are holes in the Diana investigation, errors, missing bits of the jigsaws into which the fundamentally malign forces of "the government" or "the establishment" can slip, if you want them to.
I used to be as conspiracy mad as anyone. I was particularly keen on the idea that since 1945 the US Government has deliberately kept evidence of alien contact from the eyes of the world. But then...I read Jung on UFOs, realised that Roswell was home to the only atomic bomber unit in the world in 1947, saw how the Cold War was crystallised into that single issue, with its fear of the unknown, its desperate anxiety towards things that cannot be controlled, and its sense that there was too much power out of too many people's hands. And how the tall, friendly, pleasant aliens of the 50s, and the contactees, deepened into the terrifying, manipulative, aggressive greys with their hidden agendas and abductees of the 80s and early 90s. It was odd how this exploded into public consciousness as the Cold War itself faded (say, 1994-6 with the mass popularity of the X Files), flowered for a bit, and then fell away, as the Ray Santilli footage was shown to be all made up (which the fraud denied for a decade before making a film with Ant and Dec about it). The Fortean Times, which covered a lot of this in the mid 90s, took an increasingly hostile view of the phenomenon.
For me, September 11 2001 was the definitive sinker: if they couldn't stop that, how could they have kept something as big as alien contact secret? Silly me - of course there are now loads of conspiracy theories around this, at least one of which has been on sale in Waterstone's in Cheltenham for several months.
None of this means that some conspiracies aren't true - what the hell would the CIA be _for_ if they weren't conspiring at something? Governments keep secrets, develop technologies, plot wars, lie, and so on the whole time. It's always been the same.
It just means that I'm sceptical these days of giant or enveloping cover ups, especially where I can't see a rational reason, actual evidence, or where it's just too big for the prats in government to keep quiet.
I'm prepared to accept that governments are malign things - I've posted before on the authoritarian, controlling nature of our own - but to impute to them overweening competence as well as malignity is stretching it a bit. Do we, with these theories want to prove both things? And hence, in a strange way, feel comforted knowing that the government really is all powerful, and really can do anything if it wants to, including, say, save us from a desperate and powerful enemy, one perhaps with..oh I don't know...nuclear weapons?
It was caused, in the first instance, by the driver speeding and [being] over the legal drink-drive limit.
Naturally Al Fayed refuses to accept the judgement. I saw the BBC programme on Sunday in which his claims that the Duke of Edinburgh organised Diana's death because she was pregnant with a Muslim man's child were investigated...and saw it gently but firmly remove these arguments (assertions, really) from their moorings. It was a bizarre argument from the start, but one which makes a perfect sense if you take the view that Prince Phillip is not only an old fool, but actually evil and effective as well. And the villain of the piece is the "British establishment" - not the government - a motley concoction of secret service, royalty and civil servants, a type of British administration we thought died in the 50s. (I take the view, by the way, that Harold Wilson _was_ paranoid, and that the conspiracy to stage a coup was nothing more than the mutterings of disaffected old men - the 60s plot is nowhere to be seen in Dominic Sandbrook's or at least two of Peter Hennessy's (I haven't read all his stuff) authoritative books on 60s politics and culture - and with the standard of UK governance in the mid 70s the other one would have been a total and utter f*** up from start to finish anyway. And the old buffers involved were totally crackers if they thought this: Mountbatten, as both a member of the Royal family and a former Chief of the Defence Staff, would be able to command public support as leader of a non-democratic government(Wikipedia)). Jesus, when had the UK had a military government before then? Where the f*** did they think they were living?
But there's no doubt there are holes in the Diana investigation, errors, missing bits of the jigsaws into which the fundamentally malign forces of "the government" or "the establishment" can slip, if you want them to.
I used to be as conspiracy mad as anyone. I was particularly keen on the idea that since 1945 the US Government has deliberately kept evidence of alien contact from the eyes of the world. But then...I read Jung on UFOs, realised that Roswell was home to the only atomic bomber unit in the world in 1947, saw how the Cold War was crystallised into that single issue, with its fear of the unknown, its desperate anxiety towards things that cannot be controlled, and its sense that there was too much power out of too many people's hands. And how the tall, friendly, pleasant aliens of the 50s, and the contactees, deepened into the terrifying, manipulative, aggressive greys with their hidden agendas and abductees of the 80s and early 90s. It was odd how this exploded into public consciousness as the Cold War itself faded (say, 1994-6 with the mass popularity of the X Files), flowered for a bit, and then fell away, as the Ray Santilli footage was shown to be all made up (which the fraud denied for a decade before making a film with Ant and Dec about it). The Fortean Times, which covered a lot of this in the mid 90s, took an increasingly hostile view of the phenomenon.
For me, September 11 2001 was the definitive sinker: if they couldn't stop that, how could they have kept something as big as alien contact secret? Silly me - of course there are now loads of conspiracy theories around this, at least one of which has been on sale in Waterstone's in Cheltenham for several months.
None of this means that some conspiracies aren't true - what the hell would the CIA be _for_ if they weren't conspiring at something? Governments keep secrets, develop technologies, plot wars, lie, and so on the whole time. It's always been the same.
It just means that I'm sceptical these days of giant or enveloping cover ups, especially where I can't see a rational reason, actual evidence, or where it's just too big for the prats in government to keep quiet.
I'm prepared to accept that governments are malign things - I've posted before on the authoritarian, controlling nature of our own - but to impute to them overweening competence as well as malignity is stretching it a bit. Do we, with these theories want to prove both things? And hence, in a strange way, feel comforted knowing that the government really is all powerful, and really can do anything if it wants to, including, say, save us from a desperate and powerful enemy, one perhaps with..oh I don't know...nuclear weapons?
Wednesday, 13 December 2006
The Politics of Alcohol
This is an old but interesting post by Bryan Appleyard on the politics of alcohol. He is responding to an odd sounding claim by Zoe Williams that people get more right wing when drunk. There is definitely something in this for me: but it has to depend on the kind of mood I was in before - if I've been relatively cheerful, I become convinced of the innate goodness of humanity and if not, I start to mumble to myself that it's a shame world war III never did break out. It's actually far more common for a pissed-up Drummer to start weeping sentimentally about the post-war consensus and what a nice place Welfare Britain used to be, and wishing my taxes were higher. Don't read too much into that though: in the same state I can hardly speak, walk or read and tend to think fondly of my adolescence, though it was in fact crap, as I always recall on the following morning. Following that post there are some amusing comments about which drinks produce which changes in political outlook. I have no idea about this, but it'd be fun working it out.
None At All
The best line in the HitchHikers' Guide (it works much better on radio and tv than in the recent film):
"Mr Dent,"
"Hello,yes?"
"Have you any idea how much damage this bulldozer would suffer, if I were to let it roll right over you?"
"No, how much?"
"None at all."
By a strange co-incidence, "none at all" is also the response to this discussion.
"Mr Dent,"
"Hello,yes?"
"Have you any idea how much damage this bulldozer would suffer, if I were to let it roll right over you?"
"No, how much?"
"None at all."
By a strange co-incidence, "none at all" is also the response to this discussion.
Tuesday, 12 December 2006
Pagan Festival Shopping Update
Not much to say actually. I forgot that I _hadn't actually asked anyone_ what they wanted and so therefore I was bereft of ideas. I managed to get a couple of gifts but felt distinctly uncharitable in the process. The shopkeepers and assistants didn't generally react well to my request for something "very reasonably priced". It seemed to hit them like an insult. Well, I am sorry about that but in fact I don't want to be ripped off and yes I am a bit tight-fisted.
5 Live Hits the Mark, Again
Heard on a trailer promoting Radio 5 Live this afternoon: the guy, a 5 Live commentator, is reminiscing about the World Cup; he says:
"those two great rivals, Germany and Poland..."
er, I guess you could put it like that, yeah.
On a similar note I was drinking in the pub last night (great thing to do, heartily recommend it) and I got chatting to the woman behind the bar who is Czech. she mentioned that she was going home for Christmas, etc, and really looking forward to it. She complained that most of the people who come to the pub think that the Czech Republic is the same as Poland, and that many of them have never even heard of the country. I was immediately ashamed at our collective ignorance. I indulged in a little Blair style apologising, by saying that we screwed up big time in 1938 and 39 and that we manipulated Czechoslovakia out of existence. To her credit, she took it well and didn't ask for reparations, just £3.30 for my pint and packet of crisps.
"those two great rivals, Germany and Poland..."
er, I guess you could put it like that, yeah.
On a similar note I was drinking in the pub last night (great thing to do, heartily recommend it) and I got chatting to the woman behind the bar who is Czech. she mentioned that she was going home for Christmas, etc, and really looking forward to it. She complained that most of the people who come to the pub think that the Czech Republic is the same as Poland, and that many of them have never even heard of the country. I was immediately ashamed at our collective ignorance. I indulged in a little Blair style apologising, by saying that we screwed up big time in 1938 and 39 and that we manipulated Czechoslovakia out of existence. To her credit, she took it well and didn't ask for reparations, just £3.30 for my pint and packet of crisps.
One More Thing
And before I do go shopping for the pagan festival of light or whatever it is, I'll just briefly mention the David Cameron interview in the Mail yesterday (I'm a bit out of touch and I never read the Mail until the next day). In it he says: "I don't go to bed dreaming of Polly Toynbee". Well, I'm grateful for that, at least.
Shocking Story in Daily Mail Shock
In yesterday's Mail there is the appalling story of a teacher who was sacked for...telling children there was no Father Christmas.
"Last Monday [it is claimed] the teacher told the class: 'All of you are old enough to know there is no Father Christmas or fairies. If you ask your parents to tell you they will say there is no such thing."
And the class - "some as young as nine" - were said to be deeply upset.
A tough issue, but my take is: what a miserable cow. You can never underestimate the extent to which children believe in Father C. I personally don't remember thinking he was real but doubtless I did at some point. But in a class you teach, you just can't take these things for granted. And you may wish to spread truth, righteousness and secular values but on the other hand when parents tell you how their children have reacted to being told "the news", some rather older than 9, you really just have to think: ah well. My take on it is that when a child comes to me and says "Father Christmas is bringing me x" I always engage in conversation around the central issue: "Oh. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer y?" or "Have you been a good boy/girl/other all year?" or something like that. For a teacher, it's not really about belief as such, but about letting parents decide for themselves what they want their children to know. For some, I gather, it comes as a milestone on the road to adulthood. For others it's a rotten betrayal.
Well I'll be off shopping for Winterval then, in a minute. I hate shopping at the best of times but at least not working full time means I have no excuse but to do it before the 24th this year. I quite like giving presents though, as I give so few things during the year it kind of makes me feel good for a bit. And then the dismal northern European winter bites me on the arse with its dull teeth and I spend until April in a state of either morbid depression or just listening to Joy Division.
"Last Monday [it is claimed] the teacher told the class: 'All of you are old enough to know there is no Father Christmas or fairies. If you ask your parents to tell you they will say there is no such thing."
And the class - "some as young as nine" - were said to be deeply upset.
A tough issue, but my take is: what a miserable cow. You can never underestimate the extent to which children believe in Father C. I personally don't remember thinking he was real but doubtless I did at some point. But in a class you teach, you just can't take these things for granted. And you may wish to spread truth, righteousness and secular values but on the other hand when parents tell you how their children have reacted to being told "the news", some rather older than 9, you really just have to think: ah well. My take on it is that when a child comes to me and says "Father Christmas is bringing me x" I always engage in conversation around the central issue: "Oh. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer y?" or "Have you been a good boy/girl/other all year?" or something like that. For a teacher, it's not really about belief as such, but about letting parents decide for themselves what they want their children to know. For some, I gather, it comes as a milestone on the road to adulthood. For others it's a rotten betrayal.
Well I'll be off shopping for Winterval then, in a minute. I hate shopping at the best of times but at least not working full time means I have no excuse but to do it before the 24th this year. I quite like giving presents though, as I give so few things during the year it kind of makes me feel good for a bit. And then the dismal northern European winter bites me on the arse with its dull teeth and I spend until April in a state of either morbid depression or just listening to Joy Division.
Poms and the Cricket
Well it's nearly Test Time again, and if the selectors have any sense at all: Freddie will be sacked as captain, Monty will be in for Gilo and Read will be in for Jones.
However, the selectors have no sense, so it will probably be the same line up again.
This is an interesting story, which suggests that Aussies are generally more relaxed over their sports than Poms, for a simple reason: they're more likely to win. But there is another point too. Given that we're a nation which really does not play sport anymore, why do we get bothered at all? I think it is because we're still playing out the long downward march of our country and victories in sport hold it off for a while and say "erm, hello? Hello? This place is still here!" This might be why we tend to get so arrogant when we win. Yes, I am mainly talking about England, rather than Britain. Would the dissolution of the union make a difference? The need to put England back on the map (metaphorically) would perhaps generate a renewed sporting patriotism, such as the Aussies have - but then again, getting ourselves off the sofa would be the problem. So maybe Sky TV could shut itself down, in the interests of the people, and force people to get out and play sport instead. Oh yes - and the internet would have be closed too, for obvious, though not very savoury, reasons.
However, the selectors have no sense, so it will probably be the same line up again.
This is an interesting story, which suggests that Aussies are generally more relaxed over their sports than Poms, for a simple reason: they're more likely to win. But there is another point too. Given that we're a nation which really does not play sport anymore, why do we get bothered at all? I think it is because we're still playing out the long downward march of our country and victories in sport hold it off for a while and say "erm, hello? Hello? This place is still here!" This might be why we tend to get so arrogant when we win. Yes, I am mainly talking about England, rather than Britain. Would the dissolution of the union make a difference? The need to put England back on the map (metaphorically) would perhaps generate a renewed sporting patriotism, such as the Aussies have - but then again, getting ourselves off the sofa would be the problem. So maybe Sky TV could shut itself down, in the interests of the people, and force people to get out and play sport instead. Oh yes - and the internet would have be closed too, for obvious, though not very savoury, reasons.
Sunday, 10 December 2006
BBC Picks Up on Piper
The BBC has picked up on the Bob Piper story: Tory Leader Portrayed as Minstrel
as has, finally, Iain Dale. Prague Tory has obviously been hurt by some of the personal abuse hurled at him for mentioning this story, and he says in the comments: This incident may be a prelude to my cessation from blogging. I am in a period of reflection. I will not be commenting again on this thread.
I haven't read much of the abuse, but some of Bob Piper's defence of his conduct has taken a personal tone in some places: upsetting some pompous prick of an Iain Dale wannabe isn't going to make me lose any sleep. (At Tim Worstall, who wasn't impressed with the furore). Although PT has hit back more than capably on the same thread.
Cllr Piper is clearly in the wrong here and he has not really defended himself well, seeming to rely on smears and further accusations against both his critics and the Tories. All I would say to Prague Tory is not to give up, lots of us enjoy reading you, and you've clearly done a good job here. Well done, sir. Sit back and have a nice glass of wine.
as has, finally, Iain Dale. Prague Tory has obviously been hurt by some of the personal abuse hurled at him for mentioning this story, and he says in the comments: This incident may be a prelude to my cessation from blogging. I am in a period of reflection. I will not be commenting again on this thread.
I haven't read much of the abuse, but some of Bob Piper's defence of his conduct has taken a personal tone in some places: upsetting some pompous prick of an Iain Dale wannabe isn't going to make me lose any sleep. (At Tim Worstall, who wasn't impressed with the furore). Although PT has hit back more than capably on the same thread.
Cllr Piper is clearly in the wrong here and he has not really defended himself well, seeming to rely on smears and further accusations against both his critics and the Tories. All I would say to Prague Tory is not to give up, lots of us enjoy reading you, and you've clearly done a good job here. Well done, sir. Sit back and have a nice glass of wine.
James Higham's Blogpower
Well, despite being an anti-voluntary code sort of guy, I like this idea of James Higham's - to defend and promote the smaller blogs (ie not the norms or Tim Worstalls of this world). I've managed to post the banner promoting it but I can't do it properly so it doesn't link to anything: but he's set up a new site, Defending the Blog, to discuss issues surrounding his idea of a loose collective of non-world shaking bloggers.
His eight key points are as follows:
1] adopt the motto: ‘do unto other blogs as you would have them do unto you’;
2] be broadminded and accept that others in the scheme are going to have views opposed to ours. So what?;
3] include at least ten posts in a week, no matter how small;
4] actively try to get round to each blogger on our own roll at least once in two days and comment at least three times in the week;
5] promote our blogfriends with either banners, buttons or the occasional link;
6] join in their little promo things e.g. normpoll, tomlist, voluntary-code-free-zone, chicken yoghurt’s book and so on;
7] comment on other’s comments on your own blog whenever you can;
8] link – if it’s in your power to blogroll someone who’s blogrolled you, try to do it. If you can link to a member in a post, do it.
I can't think of any of these principles I'd disagree with. I have tried to get the voluntary code-free thingy but have failed to raise a response.
His eight key points are as follows:
1] adopt the motto: ‘do unto other blogs as you would have them do unto you’;
2] be broadminded and accept that others in the scheme are going to have views opposed to ours. So what?;
3] include at least ten posts in a week, no matter how small;
4] actively try to get round to each blogger on our own roll at least once in two days and comment at least three times in the week;
5] promote our blogfriends with either banners, buttons or the occasional link;
6] join in their little promo things e.g. normpoll, tomlist, voluntary-code-free-zone, chicken yoghurt’s book and so on;
7] comment on other’s comments on your own blog whenever you can;
8] link – if it’s in your power to blogroll someone who’s blogrolled you, try to do it. If you can link to a member in a post, do it.
I can't think of any of these principles I'd disagree with. I have tried to get the voluntary code-free thingy but have failed to raise a response.
Saturday, 9 December 2006
More web Controversy
Bit of a row brewing over Ministry of Truth and Bob Piper's use of racist language to criticise the Tories today: Dizzy, covers it, as does Praguetory.
No sign of it on the BBC yet, unlike the racist poem circulated among Tory councillors a few weeks ago. But then I suppose that this is lefties pointing out the permanent racism of the Tories, so that's ok. I'm interested in the defence that as it was designed to be offensive, it does its job so that's ok too.
UPDATE, 5.00PM: I'm told in an email that 97% of bloggers who've expressed an opinion on the subject in comments and so on disagree with Bob Piper and his methods of criticising the Conservative Party. There only seem to be four Tory or rightish sites carrying the story at the moment. Anyone else want to take up the reins?
No sign of it on the BBC yet, unlike the racist poem circulated among Tory councillors a few weeks ago. But then I suppose that this is lefties pointing out the permanent racism of the Tories, so that's ok. I'm interested in the defence that as it was designed to be offensive, it does its job so that's ok too.
UPDATE, 5.00PM: I'm told in an email that 97% of bloggers who've expressed an opinion on the subject in comments and so on disagree with Bob Piper and his methods of criticising the Conservative Party. There only seem to be four Tory or rightish sites carrying the story at the moment. Anyone else want to take up the reins?
Peter Hitchens Stimulates Debate, Abuse
Pootling around the non-socialist blogosphere this morning, I noticed that Peter Hitchens has posted something which has led to thoughtful debate as well as mindless abuse. It is the subject of Intelligent Design teaching in schools. I have a simple view on this: it might well be worth teaching in philosophy, RE or even PSHE: but as a science topic it is completely out of place. It is interesting to note that some people, despite apparently having masses of evidence to back up their views choose not to cite it.
One of the commentors makes this point:
... the atrocities of the Nazis and Communists were carried out in the name of political beliefs of fascism and communism, not atheism-- I'm sure that all communists or fascists aren't atheists.
I tend to think it goes with the terrority for communists: the position of fascists is more equivocal. Having just finished Richard J Evans's The Third Reich in Power, I find it difficult to believe that the Nazis as a whole possessed a genuine faith in a supernatural being, since they invested so much of that power and authority in themselves. Some Nazis of course were keen on the occult and paganism, but it was mainly to demonstrate the ancient beauty and strength of the German people. Himmler's views on religion, like on everything else, were completely barking: but it's hardly a way of saying that fascism was religious. Hitler himself sometimes talked of God, and I think the Supreme Deity is mentioned in the SS oath; for Hitler it was a sort of mythic sense in which he saw himself joining the Germanic gods in Valhalla at the end of time, or maybe he only meant it in a metaphorical sense. Nevertheless the role of religious belief is more ambiguous in Nazi Germany than in Soviet Russia. Not to mention the ancient role of Christianity in preparing the ground for the holocaust.
The poster is right in his comment that the atrocities of communism and so on were carried out in the name of politics. There were of course, atrocities carried out specifically against religious belief by atheists, because of atheism, especially in the USSR and Maoist China. Following on from Norm on atheism, it is also clearly rubbish that Stalin's atrocities were religiously inspired or came from his time in the seminary rather than his years of street fighting and conspiring, not to mention his wide Marxist reading. What the USSR and China and, I think, Nazi Germany, show, is that atheism, despite the claims of Richard Dawkins, is totally compatible with mass murder and utter disrespect for life. His position is that belief in an afterlife is more likely to make you lose respect for this one, while the history of the Twentieth Century shows that the reverse certainly applies: knowing that life is pointless means it is fine to waste it. Atheism is certainly making it easier for our leading bioethicists and medics to argue for disabled babies to be killed, for wider abortion provision, and for more euthanasia. Since life itself has no inherent property of meaning, there is no reason to make heroic efforts to save it; the pointless existence of suffering is what must be destroyed. I'm not saying this view is wholly uncompassionate, just that it demonstrates how when human life appears unable to create its own meaning, the lack of inherent meaning means that it can be more easily ended. Yet we hold fast to the abolition of the death penalty- probably because, again, it causes suffering; and it's suffering that we are not prepared to endure. For mainly compassionate reasons, I'm sure.
One of the commentors makes this point:
... the atrocities of the Nazis and Communists were carried out in the name of political beliefs of fascism and communism, not atheism-- I'm sure that all communists or fascists aren't atheists.
I tend to think it goes with the terrority for communists: the position of fascists is more equivocal. Having just finished Richard J Evans's The Third Reich in Power, I find it difficult to believe that the Nazis as a whole possessed a genuine faith in a supernatural being, since they invested so much of that power and authority in themselves. Some Nazis of course were keen on the occult and paganism, but it was mainly to demonstrate the ancient beauty and strength of the German people. Himmler's views on religion, like on everything else, were completely barking: but it's hardly a way of saying that fascism was religious. Hitler himself sometimes talked of God, and I think the Supreme Deity is mentioned in the SS oath; for Hitler it was a sort of mythic sense in which he saw himself joining the Germanic gods in Valhalla at the end of time, or maybe he only meant it in a metaphorical sense. Nevertheless the role of religious belief is more ambiguous in Nazi Germany than in Soviet Russia. Not to mention the ancient role of Christianity in preparing the ground for the holocaust.
The poster is right in his comment that the atrocities of communism and so on were carried out in the name of politics. There were of course, atrocities carried out specifically against religious belief by atheists, because of atheism, especially in the USSR and Maoist China. Following on from Norm on atheism, it is also clearly rubbish that Stalin's atrocities were religiously inspired or came from his time in the seminary rather than his years of street fighting and conspiring, not to mention his wide Marxist reading. What the USSR and China and, I think, Nazi Germany, show, is that atheism, despite the claims of Richard Dawkins, is totally compatible with mass murder and utter disrespect for life. His position is that belief in an afterlife is more likely to make you lose respect for this one, while the history of the Twentieth Century shows that the reverse certainly applies: knowing that life is pointless means it is fine to waste it. Atheism is certainly making it easier for our leading bioethicists and medics to argue for disabled babies to be killed, for wider abortion provision, and for more euthanasia. Since life itself has no inherent property of meaning, there is no reason to make heroic efforts to save it; the pointless existence of suffering is what must be destroyed. I'm not saying this view is wholly uncompassionate, just that it demonstrates how when human life appears unable to create its own meaning, the lack of inherent meaning means that it can be more easily ended. Yet we hold fast to the abolition of the death penalty- probably because, again, it causes suffering; and it's suffering that we are not prepared to endure. For mainly compassionate reasons, I'm sure.
Friday, 8 December 2006
Sorry, Norm, You're Right
Here's Norm on Adelaide.
What can I say? Many critics, including St Geoffrey of Boycott, opined that the Aussies, unlike other cricketing nations, had forgotten how to play a 5 day test. Well, that was well called, eh?
I don't believe Australia are miles ahead of England. I think the strongest England side is a match for the strongest Aussie side. However, as in all sports, our natural idiocy has prevented that from happening; in addition to which although our first XI are great, our second XI are rubbish. One thing we could do is follow the Aussie States and not allow our main competitors to play for our county sides: I remember the outcry when it looked like Graham Thorpe was going to play for NSW this winter.
Norm's post is a great one: at times like this for Poms it is very difficult to recall the reasons we love cricket. Indeed the last test is why I hate cricket. But like my dad, or my oldest friends, I keep coming back to it, and I love it for its worst bits; and I love it because England's deficiencies are an integral part of its beauty - real beauty that is, in which a created thing is pleasing, moral, but flawed in that way that all created things must be. Like living things, England cricket will always die - it's a shifting being, capable of greatness, but, like most of us, struggling in the depths of mediocrity from day to day.
England cricket - you are one of us. Cheers.
What can I say? Many critics, including St Geoffrey of Boycott, opined that the Aussies, unlike other cricketing nations, had forgotten how to play a 5 day test. Well, that was well called, eh?
I don't believe Australia are miles ahead of England. I think the strongest England side is a match for the strongest Aussie side. However, as in all sports, our natural idiocy has prevented that from happening; in addition to which although our first XI are great, our second XI are rubbish. One thing we could do is follow the Aussie States and not allow our main competitors to play for our county sides: I remember the outcry when it looked like Graham Thorpe was going to play for NSW this winter.
Norm's post is a great one: at times like this for Poms it is very difficult to recall the reasons we love cricket. Indeed the last test is why I hate cricket. But like my dad, or my oldest friends, I keep coming back to it, and I love it for its worst bits; and I love it because England's deficiencies are an integral part of its beauty - real beauty that is, in which a created thing is pleasing, moral, but flawed in that way that all created things must be. Like living things, England cricket will always die - it's a shifting being, capable of greatness, but, like most of us, struggling in the depths of mediocrity from day to day.
England cricket - you are one of us. Cheers.
Thursday, 7 December 2006
The Twentieth Century, In One Song
Well, pop-pickers, it's Christmas, and how better to celebrate it than with a song which neatly illustrates how 1914-1989 (or, in the lyricist's view, 1914 to date) is a continuum.
Jona Lewie, "Stop the Cavalry"
Hey, Mr. Churchill comes over here
To say we're doing splendidly.
But it's very cold out here in the snow
Marching to and from the enemy.
Oh I say it's tough, I have had enough,
Can you stop the cavalry?
I have had to fight almost every night,
Down throughout these centuries.
That is when I say, oh yes yet again,
Can you stop the cavalry?
Mary Bradley waits at home,
In the nuclear fallout zone.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Bang goes another bomb on another town
While the Czar and Jim have tea.
If I get home, live to tell the tale,
I'll run for all presidencies.
If I get elected I'll stop
I will stop the cavalry.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Mary Bradley waits at home,
She's been waiting two years long.
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Let's get one thing straight here: I loathe and detest Eric Hobsbawm for his hate filled, apologistic diatribes (or "Age of Extremes" as they're known) and his support for murderous dictatorships (as long as some socialist promised land is vaguely in sight somewhere - the Soviet Union must have been alright because, er, it had fewer prisoners than the US in 1989: that's his logic and it stinks like my farts) - but on this, he's right. 1914-1989 is better than his view of 1914-1991 (I think he said that so he could see the back of Thatcher and Reagan) - but I take his point that the war fever of 1914 is of a piece with Threads, and the population cowering underneath mattresses while they listen to or watch Casualties.
Why does the murder of Franz Ferdinand fill me with fear? Not only because of the unadulterated slaughter it helped to start, but because it so nearly led us to total destruction as well. When I posted earlier this week on "getting to grips with the twentieth century", I didn't mention this: but in my view Jimmy's mum and dad die as part of a series of psychoses, already existing, unleashed by that shot and built, sometimes lovingly, often carelessly, until this point where "we don't want the whole street blowing up while you're away" is a line of humourless irony in the face of total annihilation.
Jona Lewie, "Stop the Cavalry"
Hey, Mr. Churchill comes over here
To say we're doing splendidly.
But it's very cold out here in the snow
Marching to and from the enemy.
Oh I say it's tough, I have had enough,
Can you stop the cavalry?
I have had to fight almost every night,
Down throughout these centuries.
That is when I say, oh yes yet again,
Can you stop the cavalry?
Mary Bradley waits at home,
In the nuclear fallout zone.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Bang goes another bomb on another town
While the Czar and Jim have tea.
If I get home, live to tell the tale,
I'll run for all presidencies.
If I get elected I'll stop
I will stop the cavalry.
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dum-dum-dub-i-dum
Dub-i-dub-i-dum
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Wish I could be dancing now,
In the arms of the girl I love.
Mary Bradley waits at home,
She's been waiting two years long.
Wish I was at home for Christmas.
Let's get one thing straight here: I loathe and detest Eric Hobsbawm for his hate filled, apologistic diatribes (or "Age of Extremes" as they're known) and his support for murderous dictatorships (as long as some socialist promised land is vaguely in sight somewhere - the Soviet Union must have been alright because, er, it had fewer prisoners than the US in 1989: that's his logic and it stinks like my farts) - but on this, he's right. 1914-1989 is better than his view of 1914-1991 (I think he said that so he could see the back of Thatcher and Reagan) - but I take his point that the war fever of 1914 is of a piece with Threads, and the population cowering underneath mattresses while they listen to or watch Casualties.
Why does the murder of Franz Ferdinand fill me with fear? Not only because of the unadulterated slaughter it helped to start, but because it so nearly led us to total destruction as well. When I posted earlier this week on "getting to grips with the twentieth century", I didn't mention this: but in my view Jimmy's mum and dad die as part of a series of psychoses, already existing, unleashed by that shot and built, sometimes lovingly, often carelessly, until this point where "we don't want the whole street blowing up while you're away" is a line of humourless irony in the face of total annihilation.
Public Wish for More Surveillance - Not Me, Mate
This is interesting. Not that the government is using terrorism to regiment and survey its people during their lawful business in the most intrusive way, assuming that all passengers are potential terrorists; no, that is to be expected. What is interesting is this:
Passengers are ready to accept airport-style security screening at certain railway stations, Transport Secretary Douglas Alexander has said.
A trial of X-ray body scanners and other machines will report shortly, Mr Alexander told MPs.
But he said initial findings suggested passengers "understood the need" for extra security.
People, says the government, wish to be watched more closely; people, declare the government, want the state to assume they are deadly radicals when they're on their way up the Northern Line. The article does not make clear who was asked about this.
The Dept of Transport website does not exactly promote it either, and a short search doesn't turn up the survey or its methodology.
Mr Alexander said the threat of a terrorist attack in the UK remained "severe".
...by way of a final little reminder to everyone to accept surveillance if they hadn't already. It is becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the thought that this government wants to create and sustain an atmosphere of fear, in which communities are divided against each other, hatred and ignorance increase, and intrusion into daily life is normal.
This benevolent government has made or is to make great use of:
300 000 cctv cameras
6000 speed cameras
cameras at rubbish tips
...and many other methods, including chips in bins, company use of data sold by govenrment or other companies, the new NHS database, posted on below, ID cards, and the new transport plan, which will involve almost continuous surveillance of millions of vehicles.
Apart from occasional grumbling, we seem to have agreed that we must be watched all the time, whether to "save lives", or "protect the environment" or whatever; but the fact is, we're giving the government too much license to assume that we are murderous, world wrecking bastards who would destroy everything given half a chance, and that only the benevolent, extended government can stop us. Why can't we have a government that respects us as citizens (rather than which denigrates us as "polluters") and engages us as adults?
No: that would be too much to ask. MPs pay rise? Why not? Creating a feverish atmosphere of suspicion and intolerance doesn't come cheap you know.
Passengers are ready to accept airport-style security screening at certain railway stations, Transport Secretary Douglas Alexander has said.
A trial of X-ray body scanners and other machines will report shortly, Mr Alexander told MPs.
But he said initial findings suggested passengers "understood the need" for extra security.
People, says the government, wish to be watched more closely; people, declare the government, want the state to assume they are deadly radicals when they're on their way up the Northern Line. The article does not make clear who was asked about this.
The Dept of Transport website does not exactly promote it either, and a short search doesn't turn up the survey or its methodology.
Mr Alexander said the threat of a terrorist attack in the UK remained "severe".
...by way of a final little reminder to everyone to accept surveillance if they hadn't already. It is becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the thought that this government wants to create and sustain an atmosphere of fear, in which communities are divided against each other, hatred and ignorance increase, and intrusion into daily life is normal.
This benevolent government has made or is to make great use of:
300 000 cctv cameras
6000 speed cameras
cameras at rubbish tips
...and many other methods, including chips in bins, company use of data sold by govenrment or other companies, the new NHS database, posted on below, ID cards, and the new transport plan, which will involve almost continuous surveillance of millions of vehicles.
Apart from occasional grumbling, we seem to have agreed that we must be watched all the time, whether to "save lives", or "protect the environment" or whatever; but the fact is, we're giving the government too much license to assume that we are murderous, world wrecking bastards who would destroy everything given half a chance, and that only the benevolent, extended government can stop us. Why can't we have a government that respects us as citizens (rather than which denigrates us as "polluters") and engages us as adults?
No: that would be too much to ask. MPs pay rise? Why not? Creating a feverish atmosphere of suspicion and intolerance doesn't come cheap you know.
Wednesday, 6 December 2006
Timmy on Teaching
Picked up this excellent post by Tim Worstall on the plan to raise the school-leaving age to 18.
Gosh, what an excellent idea:
Teenagers should be forced by law to stay in school or training up to the age of 18, the review of skills ordered by Gordon Brown said yesterday.
More than one in six young people leave school unable to read, write and add up properly and the proportion of 16- year-olds staying on in full time education in the UK is below the average for developed countries, it said.
After 11 years of compulsory State education 17% have learnt nothing. So we'll insist that they have another two years where they'll also learn nothing. Great, good thinking Batman.
Why not be sensible and get the readin', 'ritin' and 'rithmetic stuff done a little earlier? You know, in years one through five of the education process?
Not only will they not learn anything more, but the teenagers forced to stay at school after 16 will also destroy the traditional atmosphere of the A Level (if it still exists). It was a space where the teachers could actually teach, to people who had made a positive choice to learn that subject, and was therefore a place and time where you could really grow up. That will all be wrecked if teenagers who have their GCSEs and want to go and do something else are forced to stay in the classroom. Anyone who wants to stay can - and that is how it should be, given that we treat 16 year olds as adults in other areas. Sex, for example.
The argument is, as it usually is, that people who leave at 16 earn less than people who don't. Fair enough. But they leave school because they are not academic, have been taught badly, or are otherwise demotivated, and have reached an age where society allows them increasing control over their lives. Why remove that right to get work or to start training? To look for something you really want to do? People who leave school at 16 and join the right trade or industry can make moves quickly and build up a stock of experience that graduates of 21 just can't catch up on.
The answer is probably to broaden the provision of training schemes and technical education post 16 (post 14 in fact), and to do away, once and for all, with the garbage that getting any degree is automatically better than not. Employers are already finding that many of the graduates they're getting are not "fit for purpose", but we have such a snobbery in this country towards real vocational or technical training that we see academic study as the be all and end all. I'm not arguing for the creation of another proletariat, to serve the material needs of the bourgeoisie - the opportunities for education in academic areas already exist. The opportunities for other kinds of education are limited. 16 year olds at work could be supervised, assessed, ooh, I don't know, "apprenticed", even; they could be given the opportunity to return to school if they change their minds, or study for A Levels later on: there is a whole raft of ways of making the choices of 16 years olds more relevant to them and to society without making them sit A Levels in subjects they don't want to do, in places they don't want to be.
I like the comment too:
"Why not be sensible and get the readin', 'ritin' and 'rithmetic stuff done a little earlier? You know, in years one through five of the education process?"
If you do that then when the hell are you going to fit the brainwashing in? There's anti-globalisation, anti-racism, global warming and class warfare to be to be peddled first. Best do that at a young age and let the less important stuff like literacy and numeracy wait for later. Come to think of it, do we really want a population that's articulate and that can think for itself? I don't think so!
This might sound like right-wing paranoia, but there is more than a grain of truth in it. Quite apart from the new "Science as Green Propaganda" GCSE, the primary science curriculum is promoted on PGCE courses, as I've pointed out before, precisely to indoctrinate children; the geography curriculum is seen by a significant proportion of academics (ie the ones who designed it) as a way of changing the world; and the history curriculum is currently under assault from special interest groups, who all want a slice of what they regard as a political subject.
Gosh, what an excellent idea:
Teenagers should be forced by law to stay in school or training up to the age of 18, the review of skills ordered by Gordon Brown said yesterday.
More than one in six young people leave school unable to read, write and add up properly and the proportion of 16- year-olds staying on in full time education in the UK is below the average for developed countries, it said.
After 11 years of compulsory State education 17% have learnt nothing. So we'll insist that they have another two years where they'll also learn nothing. Great, good thinking Batman.
Why not be sensible and get the readin', 'ritin' and 'rithmetic stuff done a little earlier? You know, in years one through five of the education process?
Not only will they not learn anything more, but the teenagers forced to stay at school after 16 will also destroy the traditional atmosphere of the A Level (if it still exists). It was a space where the teachers could actually teach, to people who had made a positive choice to learn that subject, and was therefore a place and time where you could really grow up. That will all be wrecked if teenagers who have their GCSEs and want to go and do something else are forced to stay in the classroom. Anyone who wants to stay can - and that is how it should be, given that we treat 16 year olds as adults in other areas. Sex, for example.
The argument is, as it usually is, that people who leave at 16 earn less than people who don't. Fair enough. But they leave school because they are not academic, have been taught badly, or are otherwise demotivated, and have reached an age where society allows them increasing control over their lives. Why remove that right to get work or to start training? To look for something you really want to do? People who leave school at 16 and join the right trade or industry can make moves quickly and build up a stock of experience that graduates of 21 just can't catch up on.
The answer is probably to broaden the provision of training schemes and technical education post 16 (post 14 in fact), and to do away, once and for all, with the garbage that getting any degree is automatically better than not. Employers are already finding that many of the graduates they're getting are not "fit for purpose", but we have such a snobbery in this country towards real vocational or technical training that we see academic study as the be all and end all. I'm not arguing for the creation of another proletariat, to serve the material needs of the bourgeoisie - the opportunities for education in academic areas already exist. The opportunities for other kinds of education are limited. 16 year olds at work could be supervised, assessed, ooh, I don't know, "apprenticed", even; they could be given the opportunity to return to school if they change their minds, or study for A Levels later on: there is a whole raft of ways of making the choices of 16 years olds more relevant to them and to society without making them sit A Levels in subjects they don't want to do, in places they don't want to be.
I like the comment too:
"Why not be sensible and get the readin', 'ritin' and 'rithmetic stuff done a little earlier? You know, in years one through five of the education process?"
If you do that then when the hell are you going to fit the brainwashing in? There's anti-globalisation, anti-racism, global warming and class warfare to be to be peddled first. Best do that at a young age and let the less important stuff like literacy and numeracy wait for later. Come to think of it, do we really want a population that's articulate and that can think for itself? I don't think so!
This might sound like right-wing paranoia, but there is more than a grain of truth in it. Quite apart from the new "Science as Green Propaganda" GCSE, the primary science curriculum is promoted on PGCE courses, as I've pointed out before, precisely to indoctrinate children; the geography curriculum is seen by a significant proportion of academics (ie the ones who designed it) as a way of changing the world; and the history curriculum is currently under assault from special interest groups, who all want a slice of what they regard as a political subject.
Tuesday, 5 December 2006
Oh well
There are advantages to being a pessimist. You can still be disappointed, but you're never surprised when things like this happen.
Way to lose the ashes, you bunch of morons.
Way to lose the ashes, you bunch of morons.
Monday, 4 December 2006
Negative Numbers
According to Conservative Home, Francis Maude's appreciation rating has fallen below zero
Geez, and I thought I was a nomark. Now I have another way of teaching negative numbers to my pupils: "Yes, Johnny, the approval ratings of the shadow cabinet are another good example of negative numbers in the real world."
Geez, and I thought I was a nomark. Now I have another way of teaching negative numbers to my pupils: "Yes, Johnny, the approval ratings of the shadow cabinet are another good example of negative numbers in the real world."
Offensive
Norm has this to say on the speech codes being rolled out across Australia's cricket grounds:
At the same time, even with intimidating on top of threatening, disparaging along with vilifying, much is left out. At one of the days of the Adelaide Test I put together a longer list:
... offends, insults, humiliates, intimidates, threatens, disparages, vilifies, abuses, belittles, scorns, denigrates, traduces, ridicules, dehumanizes, dishonours, defames, victimizes, contemns, disrespects, slanders, frightens, taunts, torments, wounds, derides, terrifies, terrorizes, petrifies, demeans, maligns, badmouths, and [to go with 'offends'] upsets, dismays, demoralizes, depresses, distresses or anguishes...
Presumably this would include such appalling statements as "Australia 200 for 1" and "Australia wins the Test by 277 runs" and even worse, the cricket gods forbid, "Australia regains the Ashes". We must indeed be protected from offence such as this.
At the same time, even with intimidating on top of threatening, disparaging along with vilifying, much is left out. At one of the days of the Adelaide Test I put together a longer list:
... offends, insults, humiliates, intimidates, threatens, disparages, vilifies, abuses, belittles, scorns, denigrates, traduces, ridicules, dehumanizes, dishonours, defames, victimizes, contemns, disrespects, slanders, frightens, taunts, torments, wounds, derides, terrifies, terrorizes, petrifies, demeans, maligns, badmouths, and [to go with 'offends'] upsets, dismays, demoralizes, depresses, distresses or anguishes...
Presumably this would include such appalling statements as "Australia 200 for 1" and "Australia wins the Test by 277 runs" and even worse, the cricket gods forbid, "Australia regains the Ashes". We must indeed be protected from offence such as this.
Nuclear War
This seems to be on the agenda again, with the news that Tony Blair is going to insist on replacing Trident.
Radio 5 Live played a snippet from the Public Information Film: "Protect and Survive - Action after Warnings" at about 5 this evening, which was intriguing, because presenter Peter Allen talked as if we were all familiar with these things - they were never shown, of course, and only clips of them were first seen in "Threads" in 1984. It just shows the insidiousness of this unique fear, that something very few people have seen can be treated as a cultural memory.
A social historian they interviewed called Protect and Survive completely wrong. He said that it was naive to think anyone could survive with the measures it advocated - fallout shelters, food stocks, etc. Some people would have survived, mainly those in rural areas and on the edges of towns. It was them Protect and Survive was aimed at, not the rest of the population, which makes it cynical, not naive. As I've written before, the PIF "Casualties" is the most appalling cultural document anywhere. It is the abandonment of the people to the supreme horror.
The discussion they had was curious, and it brought up some interesting things -such as the gradual displacement of the fear of nuclear armageddon with that of climate meltdown, but the fact of fear being central anyway. To me, the concept of nuclear war is totally different from any other war; almost literally unimaginable. Even "Threads" doesn't go far enough - for reasons of budget, probably.
How can a civilisation live under this threat - and remember it was at 4 minutes' notice, not the 50 years for climate change - and not be affected, at some deep level of its psyche? Without wanting to sound like a 10th rate Jung, could there be a concept such as "collective trauma", in which the ever presence of imminent and total destruction would leave its marks long after it had gone? Are we really living in the sunlit uplands of the post-Cold War period, or are we acting out the collective mental disturbances sown in our past?
Have we, indeed, actually finished the twentieth century at all? I tend to think some things, such as our anxiety over climate change and the shrill language surrounding it, may instead be ways in which we're trying to grasp its legacy. Maybe we're only just getting started on facing up to what we went through, the vast, mechanised murder, the leaders who slaughtered by the million while smiling and promising great worlds, even the tower blocks which were supposed to be new communities in the sky - and what our civilisation caused and nearly caused.
Radio 5 Live played a snippet from the Public Information Film: "Protect and Survive - Action after Warnings" at about 5 this evening, which was intriguing, because presenter Peter Allen talked as if we were all familiar with these things - they were never shown, of course, and only clips of them were first seen in "Threads" in 1984. It just shows the insidiousness of this unique fear, that something very few people have seen can be treated as a cultural memory.
A social historian they interviewed called Protect and Survive completely wrong. He said that it was naive to think anyone could survive with the measures it advocated - fallout shelters, food stocks, etc. Some people would have survived, mainly those in rural areas and on the edges of towns. It was them Protect and Survive was aimed at, not the rest of the population, which makes it cynical, not naive. As I've written before, the PIF "Casualties" is the most appalling cultural document anywhere. It is the abandonment of the people to the supreme horror.
The discussion they had was curious, and it brought up some interesting things -such as the gradual displacement of the fear of nuclear armageddon with that of climate meltdown, but the fact of fear being central anyway. To me, the concept of nuclear war is totally different from any other war; almost literally unimaginable. Even "Threads" doesn't go far enough - for reasons of budget, probably.
How can a civilisation live under this threat - and remember it was at 4 minutes' notice, not the 50 years for climate change - and not be affected, at some deep level of its psyche? Without wanting to sound like a 10th rate Jung, could there be a concept such as "collective trauma", in which the ever presence of imminent and total destruction would leave its marks long after it had gone? Are we really living in the sunlit uplands of the post-Cold War period, or are we acting out the collective mental disturbances sown in our past?
Have we, indeed, actually finished the twentieth century at all? I tend to think some things, such as our anxiety over climate change and the shrill language surrounding it, may instead be ways in which we're trying to grasp its legacy. Maybe we're only just getting started on facing up to what we went through, the vast, mechanised murder, the leaders who slaughtered by the million while smiling and promising great worlds, even the tower blocks which were supposed to be new communities in the sky - and what our civilisation caused and nearly caused.
Sunday, 3 December 2006
Good Deed
I thought I'd do a good deed by giving a paper I actually wanted to keep to a lonely looking guy in the pub earlier; he said: "yeah, okay, I'll take it.." - he thought I was palming him off with something I had finished with. Hey ho. The trials of Being Good, eh (that's something for Nick Hornby to ponder in his next superficial novel)?
10 things which, if they happened, I'd write about pleasantly
Further to my point below about blog whinging, here are 10 things I would report or comment on positively if they happened:
1. England win Ashes
2. England retain Ashes in drawn series
3. McGrath and Warne to retire immediately
4. Blair and Brown to retire immediately
5. US announces $500 billion reconstruction project for Iraq
6. Tin Drummer to win blogging award
7. Member of loud rights/equality/NGO group caught in blatant hypocrisy probe
8. C of E to "affirm faith in God"
9. New report shows that "independent reports" are nothing of the kind
10. Polly Toynbee to join Tories
1. England win Ashes
2. England retain Ashes in drawn series
3. McGrath and Warne to retire immediately
4. Blair and Brown to retire immediately
5. US announces $500 billion reconstruction project for Iraq
6. Tin Drummer to win blogging award
7. Member of loud rights/equality/NGO group caught in blatant hypocrisy probe
8. C of E to "affirm faith in God"
9. New report shows that "independent reports" are nothing of the kind
10. Polly Toynbee to join Tories
Whinging (With Reason)
James Higham's new blogfocus has reminded me that I, and, I suspect, some other bloggers too, spend a lot of time whinging. James, incidentally, along with Tim Worstall, and Tom Paine, is among the best of those who don't. But I think, given that the blogosphere has emerged as a critical discussion, it's kind of inevitable that this is the course it's taken. The UK and the US are also in the last throes of governments which have run out of moral authority, political authority, and imagination. In the UK, though the economy remains reasonably bouyant, we have a government actively pursuing its citizens for information, and promoting ever harsher punishments for offences of thought or speech. Much as I abhor the BNP the recent political prosecution of Nick Griffin was a disgrace, as was Gordon Brown's response. The treatment of some imams for things they have said rather than done has also been (to me) a bit worrying.
So, as a politically engaged person who finds the politicians of his day corrupt, self serving, and incompetent, whinging in the blogosphere is an excellent way of promoting my views, joining a conversation of views, and building a genuine bottom up mass of critical opinion and occasionally thought against what I regard as a rubbish government (as opposed to the MSM, many of whom have lobby positions, comfortable jobs, and publicly funded biases to protect).
So: another whinge then. Mr Eugenides reports on the latest attempt by MPs to raise their own salaries. Whenever a politician says they went into politics to do good, this is evidence that they are lying. People who want to do good become charity workers, teachers, nurses, doctors and street cleaners. People who want to reshape your life after their views become politicians. This latest moan about their frankly fantastic remuneration only backs up my view.
There is a reason, perhaps, that their salaries (but not their perks) have not risen inline with other top public sector figures. That is that MPs are specifically, and only, servants of the people, there to do their bidding. They are not CEOs or Headteachers, they are given power by the people and in return they are able to exercise it. Fiscal bounty ought not to be an automatic part of that bargain.
Next. I would very much like a guardianista to come and tell me that this story is just the evil Daily Mail making things up. In Saturday's edition, it reports:
Britain's top doctor [Sir Liam Donaldson, Chief Medical Officer]has told GPs to reveal the names of patients who want to stop their medical records being put into a central NHS computer.
A spokesarse for the Dept of Health is quoted thusly:
The CMOs advice to GPs is to forward the letters to the Secretary of State - and these are letters that have probably already been sent to the Secretary of State for Health from patients.
My emphasis. Now the whole defence of this is predicated on that "probably". On the basis that the Secretary of State "probably" has the letters, they are to be given to him anyway, giving the government direct knowledge of who has refused the movement of their data. Well - what if they aren't already there? The spokesprat goes on to say: "The content is in the public domain already". I wasn't aware that people's written decisions about their information were in the public domain, and I wasn't aware that requesting it to be left off a database constituted putting it there.
I would really like someone to come along and tell me a) that the Daily HateMail has deliberately concoted this story or b) that it is true, but I have utterly misread it. This does happen sometimes.
So, as a politically engaged person who finds the politicians of his day corrupt, self serving, and incompetent, whinging in the blogosphere is an excellent way of promoting my views, joining a conversation of views, and building a genuine bottom up mass of critical opinion and occasionally thought against what I regard as a rubbish government (as opposed to the MSM, many of whom have lobby positions, comfortable jobs, and publicly funded biases to protect).
So: another whinge then. Mr Eugenides reports on the latest attempt by MPs to raise their own salaries. Whenever a politician says they went into politics to do good, this is evidence that they are lying. People who want to do good become charity workers, teachers, nurses, doctors and street cleaners. People who want to reshape your life after their views become politicians. This latest moan about their frankly fantastic remuneration only backs up my view.
There is a reason, perhaps, that their salaries (but not their perks) have not risen inline with other top public sector figures. That is that MPs are specifically, and only, servants of the people, there to do their bidding. They are not CEOs or Headteachers, they are given power by the people and in return they are able to exercise it. Fiscal bounty ought not to be an automatic part of that bargain.
Next. I would very much like a guardianista to come and tell me that this story is just the evil Daily Mail making things up. In Saturday's edition, it reports:
Britain's top doctor [Sir Liam Donaldson, Chief Medical Officer]has told GPs to reveal the names of patients who want to stop their medical records being put into a central NHS computer.
A spokesarse for the Dept of Health is quoted thusly:
The CMOs advice to GPs is to forward the letters to the Secretary of State - and these are letters that have probably already been sent to the Secretary of State for Health from patients.
My emphasis. Now the whole defence of this is predicated on that "probably". On the basis that the Secretary of State "probably" has the letters, they are to be given to him anyway, giving the government direct knowledge of who has refused the movement of their data. Well - what if they aren't already there? The spokesprat goes on to say: "The content is in the public domain already". I wasn't aware that people's written decisions about their information were in the public domain, and I wasn't aware that requesting it to be left off a database constituted putting it there.
I would really like someone to come along and tell me a) that the Daily HateMail has deliberately concoted this story or b) that it is true, but I have utterly misread it. This does happen sometimes.
Saturday, 2 December 2006
Being Paul Collingwood
..must be pretty good right now. That holy grail of England batting, the double hundred, has finally been discovered. The last one was by the pie-eating Rob Key in 2004, the last one before this in Australia by a Pom was Wally Hammond in 1936/7. It sounds to me like a sub-continental pitch, offering nowt for bowlers, but even so, as a Pom, batting in Australia will always be difficult work. So well done to Colly, who's never really been rated in the same way as his contemporaries, always seems to be the guy to make way if someone else comes back from injury, but who's always done his darndest - and who now has the 2 highest scores by anyone in this England team, 206 and 186.
Friday, 1 December 2006
Being Matthew Hoggard
..must be difficult, like being a slightly less effectual Polonius. Now I love Polonius, and I really like Matthew Hoggard. He's the only guy in the England "bowling" line up who's actually turned up in 75%+ of tests in the past few years.
But your humble Drummer is a Hoggard of his very own, trundling into work and into a blogosphere that prefers Lees and Aktars.
Never more have I felt this than tonight, Victorian shopping night in the Drummer's village. Now your Drummer is a capitalist. But this really is capitalism gone mad. Every building in the village is adorned with vile, offensive lights, and there are grasping hands and piss-poor costumes leaping out at you from every doorway and shadowplace; there is the frustrating sound of money not being dropped into buckets, champagne being ignored and crap games being passed by. The cashpoint is the longest queue in town, so - where are they spending the money?
Where else? The pub, of course. At least there, you're guaranteed a top class product, unlike an arse-awful impression of a century dead town cryer and his long deceased monarch; she's dead, goddammit, she's dead and she's not coming back, no matter how many pounds change hands, and none of you gives a toss because as long as those coins change hands no-one cares that no-one cares about the theme of the evening.
Here's the Drummer's suggestions:
1) a public execution
2) stocks
3) we import cholera and dystentry into the village for the night
4) we make all the stallholders sign the 39 Articles
5) all pregnant teenagers are hurried off to backstreets or given huge doses of gin and hot baths
6) the village stages a series of summit meetings with a German village, announcing periodically that the opposing village needs to negotiate on its number of ducks, while the German village relentlessly builds up its amount of ducks, and we just stoke the river, ready for the inevitable conflict.
But your humble Drummer is a Hoggard of his very own, trundling into work and into a blogosphere that prefers Lees and Aktars.
Never more have I felt this than tonight, Victorian shopping night in the Drummer's village. Now your Drummer is a capitalist. But this really is capitalism gone mad. Every building in the village is adorned with vile, offensive lights, and there are grasping hands and piss-poor costumes leaping out at you from every doorway and shadowplace; there is the frustrating sound of money not being dropped into buckets, champagne being ignored and crap games being passed by. The cashpoint is the longest queue in town, so - where are they spending the money?
Where else? The pub, of course. At least there, you're guaranteed a top class product, unlike an arse-awful impression of a century dead town cryer and his long deceased monarch; she's dead, goddammit, she's dead and she's not coming back, no matter how many pounds change hands, and none of you gives a toss because as long as those coins change hands no-one cares that no-one cares about the theme of the evening.
Here's the Drummer's suggestions:
1) a public execution
2) stocks
3) we import cholera and dystentry into the village for the night
4) we make all the stallholders sign the 39 Articles
5) all pregnant teenagers are hurried off to backstreets or given huge doses of gin and hot baths
6) the village stages a series of summit meetings with a German village, announcing periodically that the opposing village needs to negotiate on its number of ducks, while the German village relentlessly builds up its amount of ducks, and we just stoke the river, ready for the inevitable conflict.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
