Where There Were No Doors

All over now, baby blue

2006-03-05T20:43:00.000+00:00

All good things must come to an end. And yes, even the not so good things too. This is the last post.

But fret not, dear reader. For as one thing fades, so another blossoms.

Please join me on The Quiet Road.

(oh, and update your links and bookmarks and whatnot if you get a moment).

Farewell.

A round up

2006-02-15T23:23:00.000+00:00

Well, I'm off to Dublin in a little over four days. All a bit hectic to be honest, and I don't really have the time to write much just now (I did write a great piece about ID cards last night... one of my better essays; succinct, funny and devastating; as is always the case when your browser crashes and you lose the bloody thing!) I don't have the time to rewrite it, and I doubt I'd recapture some of the better turns of phrase anyway. Sorry about that.

I've also got a long essay about the 'Muhammed cartoons row' in the works. Unlike many of the bloggers I regularly read, I find it to be a fascinating and very important story. My article has already wandered off on several tangents... the potential for idolatry to act as both cultural powderkeg and cultural safety-valve depending upon the historical context... the role of symbols in shaping human behaviour... the nature of religious belief...

you get the picture. Let's just say I'm unlikely to finish it very soon, given how little time I can devote to blogging just now. However, should you find yourself in need of some fine web-based writing, then you could do a lot worse than read some of the best of recent blogging:

It almost goes without saying that Harry Hutton has written the funniest thing about the Dick Cheney hunting accident.

Meanwhile John Reid (Secretary for Violence Against Foreigners) is neatly skewered and roasted over at Chicken Yoghurt. Justin hits the nail right on the head when he writes,

It's almost as if he's saying, if you want us to respect your religion you need to accept that our lads may want to give one or two of you a kicking now and again and be expected to get away with it.

David Byrne recently published a piece on a subject that's been on my mind a lot lately. Go read Selfless if you're in the mood for something philosophical.

Joel has written another excellent piece.

The Curmudgeon reveals the revelling of Rifkind in the notion of limited military strikes against Iran. After all, Iran is more serious than Iraq was wrongly claimed to be.

I Heart Zoe Williams

2006-02-11T17:23:00.000+00:00

While I waste time droning on about Orwell, or semiotics, or emergent intelligence, Zoe Williams manages to completely eviscerate Reality Television with a few short paragraphs about children's fiction.

Go read House of Cards now.

- End -

Eighteen (9 x 2)

2006-02-10T20:23:00.000+00:00

It's a blog meme thing. If you're looking for something highbrow to read, check the Orwell quote in the previous post. Quality stuff. I'm planning a big essay on why the essays of George Orwell should be compulsory reading for everyone between the ages of 14 and 18. We'd have to set up some sort of surveillance system to make sure everybody complies of course...

But back to the matter at hand. Merrick (of the Orwell essays) completed the 7x7 blog meme thingie that I'd tagged him with. However, he decided to expand it to make it the 9x9 blog meme. Then he requested (in the comments) that I complete the additional two questions. Which I'm doing now.

Nine Things I've Only Done Once And Don't Expect To Do Again

Build a soft-drinks factory in Saudi Arabia.
Spend three days driving around the UK in a van with my best friend and three big bags of cash desperately trying to find somewhere he could buy a fake passport because he had pissed off both the police and some quite violent drug dealers.
Run naked across one of London's major bridges.
Get shot at (expect? well, it's more a fervent hope).
Datura.
Vote Labour.
Laugh derisively and call someone "a sad fuck" when they proudly show me their new tattoo.
Lose my virginity.
Get arrested and interrogated by the KGB.

Nine Songs I Don't Think I Could Live Without

Madame George - Van Morrison
Listening Wind - Talking Heads
(This song is from the first album I ever bought - Remain In Light - and it holds within it almost everything that's made music such a central part of my life. It deals with politics through the poetry of magical realism and reveals a timeless wisdom... all the while keeping you mesmerised by the rumbling music behind Byrne's imagery.)
All Is Full Of Love - Björk
Life on Mars? - David Bowie
(I just can't imagine never hearing that lilting "It's a god-awful small affair..." opening again.)
Back to the Old House - The Smiths
It's Only Love - The Beatles
Tomorrow Never Knows - The Beatles
(To be honest, there's about a dozen Beatles songs that spring instantly to mind when I try to imagine "songs I couldn't live without". These were merely the two that muscled their way to the front and provided a good cross-section of the band's music. Lennon's gloriously ragged voice on the chorus of It's Only Love gives me goosebumps nearly every time. And well... Tomorrow Never Knows needs no justifications from me.)
Until The End of The World - U2
(from Achtung Baby when the band were at their peak. For those of you who can't see past the whole 'Bono' thing, it really is your loss. During the early 90s, for about about 4 years, U2 made truly sublime music. And this track captures the whole period perfectly. It also drags me right back there... to a very groovy period of my life indeed. Ace.)
Gloria - Patti Smith

Read some Orwell

2006-02-10T18:23:00.000+00:00

My friend Merrick recently gave me a very lovely gift... a weighty tome entitled 'Essays' by George Orwell. It is 1,300 pages of the finest, wisest, most insightful writing of the last century. Indeed, ever.

Every essay in the book; whether a newspaper column from the war years or a one page review of a long-forgotten book or a lengthy piece assessing the cultural impact of the work of Charles Dickens; every one of them contains within it at least one line or idea that forces you to think in a new way about something you'd previously taken for granted.

That's the essence of great political writing. Indeed, for me, Orwell is easily our finest political writer. Certainly he didn't have as great an impact as some others (Marx springs immediately to mind), but I'd argue that may be because - ironically enough - he's far more revolutionary. I don't have time to write my big "Read Orwell's Essays!" essay just yet, but I came across this wonderful paragraph and I felt compelled to share it with you...

Marx's famous saying that "religion is the opium of the people" is habitually wrenched out of its context and given a meaning subtly but appreciably different from the one he gave it. Marx did not say, at any rate in that place, that religion is merely a dope handed out from above; he said that it is something the people create for themselves, to supply a need that he recognized to be a real one. "Religion is the sigh of the soul in a soulless world. Religion is the opium of the people." What is he saying except that man does not live by bread alone, that hatred is not enough, that a world worth living in cannot be founded on "realism" and machine guns? If he had foreseen how great his intellectual influence would be, perhaps he would have said it more often and more loudly.
- George Orwell
Notes on The Way (April 1940)

- End -

7x7 blog meme

2006-01-28T17:23:00.000+00:00

In the name of all that's sacred, I said I was going to be busy for the next few weeks! So what makes you think I have time to be doing this 7x7 blog meme thing!? Honestly Justin, it boggles the mind.

Still, if that's what people want to read, who am I to blow against the wind? I guess it's just one of those crosses we bloggers must bear. It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it.

I wanted a blog post, and for my sins they gave me one, and when it was over I'd never want another.

Seven Things To Do Before I Die

Fall in love one more time.
Write something that sets off the same imaginative fireworks in the head of one reader, that Vineland by Thomas Pynchon set off in mine.
Meet David Bowie.
Rent a car and drive down the west coast of America.
Grow my own food and learn to live sustainably.
Become God-Emperor of earth and rule the planet as a benign dictator bringing an end to needless suffering and ushering in an Age of Enlightenment.
Come to terms with my mortality.

Seven Things I Cannot Do

Speak Russian.
See the words "Aloe Vera" written down and not think 'Allo Vera in an exaggerated cockney accent.
Eat red meat (or broccoli or cauliflower).
Surf.
Lift trains.
See any way of affecting - via democratic means - the political, economic and structural changes that will be necessary to shift our society towards sustainability.
Catch a falling star and put it in my pocket.

Seven Things That Attract Me to... (a woman)

A pulse.
Well whaddya want? I've been single for a long time!
Anyways, what is this? Some kind of online dating meme?
SWM WLTM SWF GSOH LSD CND BBC. I ask you!
Intelligence, compassion, decency, anti-authoritarian outlook, wit, sincerity and creativity. What did you expect?
And look, I'm a man, so yes it does help if the person in question is easy on the eye.
Most importantly though... someone who enjoys my company and considers me easy on the eye. Those are very attractive qualities indeed.

Seven Things I Say

Oh bugger!
Well, it's like what Einstein said...
Groovy.
Bong anyone?
Shush! Everyone be quiet! Check out this bit... the way the guitars kick in...
Well, it's like what Orwell said...
WHAT?!

Seven Good Books

Vineland - Thomas Pynchon
Love - Mahalia
Relativity - Albert Einstein
1984 - George Orwell
Stone Junction - Jim Dodge
Tales of Ordinary Madness - Charles Bukowski
Vermillion Sands - JG Ballard

Seven Good Movies

Seven Blogs To Tag

... and a Happy New Year

2006-01-17T23:23:00.000+00:00

It's like the old gag about the guy with the New Year's Resolution "to stop procrastinating". At the end of January a friend enquires as to how it's going. The guy replies "Ah, I'm too busy at the moment. I'm gonna phase it in sometime in March".

Anyways, better late than never... The "so that was 2005 then? hmmmm"-post

Yes indeed. Another year over. And what a thoroughly shit one it was too. Mind you, it was keeping me an extra year from the grave, so in that respect I'm sad to see it gone.

I'm aware that Her Parasitic Majesty, The Queen of England made a similar observation about the general shitness of 2005 in her traditional Chrimbo Speech (she used that very phrase in fact... "general shitness"), and I don't want to appear as though I'm jumping on the royal bandwagon (a crime still punishable by death if done within sight of Windsor Castle), but all the same... 2005 was a shit year.

Leastways it was for me.

Of course, it was much worse for lots of people. Billions of people in fact. Whether it was hurricanes or earthquakes or war or famine or recovering from tidal waves, or just not having enough, there's no question that my year was significantly better than the 2005 experienced by many - indeed most.

All the same, I'm going to write about my year. The best teacher I ever had gave me some advice 'on being a writer'. He insisted that every human life was interesting enough to read about, so long as the person living it was a good enough writer. And I believe that to be true. I also believe that - on my good days - I kick ten shades of shit out of Martin Amis. And he gets on telly and everything.

Anyways, this is my blog, and my readership is self-selecting. So I'm sure that neither of you will be too put out if I prattle on a while about my 2005. I'll also fill you in on my plans for 2006 with regards to this blog.

2005 II: The Prequel (2004)

At the end of 2004, I said to myself (and to anyone who would listen) that I'd had a crap year and that 'oh-five would be an improvement. Life is a succession of peaks and troughs and I was convinced that 2004 was the bottom of the trough I'd been sliding into since the turn of the century. "2005 will see me heading in the direction of the next peak... it will be the year I turn things around". That was the theory.

And what a lovely theory it was too.

But it was wrong. Deeply deeply wrong. 2005 saw me continue my downward progress. Not only that, but the bastid slope got steeper.

Summer 2004 I discovered that I was ill. For several years I'd been "feeling like crap" (apologies if you find the medical jargon confusing), but attributed it to a general malaise. Depression even. I was in a deep blue funk and concluded that I'd emerge from it when I was ready - emotionally speaking. But in 2004, I was persuaded to consult a doctor for the first time in a decade. And a saga began.

Brain scans, body scans, injections, x-rays, surgery (minor), hospital stays and a shit-load of pills. Doctors with concerned looks on their faces consulted test results and shook their heads with a mixture of puzzlement and disbelief. Complex pieces of equipment were recalibrated and their readings were called into question. It was unsettling.

In the end, I made a temporary deal with The Man and I'm now dependent on Merck and Pfizer and Wyath Laboratories to sort me out with my daily fix. I find myself consuming pharmaceuticals in daily doses that make even my university years look tame. And - sadly - these ones don't allow me to see music. Or to intuit the fundamental interconnectedness of all things (though thankfully that one sticks with you). In return for downing these prescribed drugs, I have been "stabilised".

For most of 2005 I felt a tad gloomy about this. A dependency on The Man is not a sustainable state of affairs. Even if the large pharmaceutical corporations don't succumb to the coming global economic meltdown (in my view, they have a rather slim chance of survival) and specialist medications don't become the preserve of the powerful; I'm certain it's far from ideal - biologically-speaking - to take a handful of powerful drugs every day for decades.

I spent most of last year under the impression that this situation was fundamentally unalterable. Chances are, so long as I kept taking the pills, something else would eventually kill me. (It might be a bus. Tomorrow. We are none of us guaranteed anything.) But if I stopped taking the pills... well... "eventually" would almost certainly not be too far away.

I dunno... here's my thing... maybe it's all a big scam... maybe the 'doctors' are actually agents of Merck feeding me weird experimental psychoactive drugs and I'm really a 72-year-old woman living in a top-secret institute on the shores of Lake Lafayette in Tallahassee staring blankly at a screen detailing the events in the life of a 34-year-old man in London. Ever consider that? And if that's the case, the question that immediately springs to mind is why the hell aren't they changing the channel?

What with all those shows about millionaire playboys solving crime and sleeping with beautiful women. Or as Edward Ka'Spel might say...

We're the spectres on your screen
We murmur sweet transparent lunacy

Anyways, 2005 got a bit grim for a bit. But then suddenly a degree of grooviness and light. A possible route to actual health, as opposed to chemically-simulated health. However (and what a "however" this turns out to be). Amongst other things, it involves a fundamental change in how I live my life. Which brings me to...

The Future

As a result of all this and for lots of complicated reasons, I have decided to get the hell out of the city. My time in London has finally come to an end. I am moving to pastures new. Or rather, old.

I'm off to Dublin. The city I was born in, but left as a child. I've not spent more than a couple of weeks in it as an adult. My visits back to Ireland have always been to see my parents in West Cork. So although I've spent a few weeks in the country since my childhood, it's always as a tourist. A visitor. And almost none of it in my home town.

Of course, the city of my memories bears little resemblance to the Dublin of today. Which is no bad thing. I have no fondness for those memories... no nostalgia about Dublin in the 1970s. Indeed when I look back at my life, the decision of my parents to emigrate represents a massive liberation for me. Those who meet me today may be tempted to mutter something about frying-pans and fires.

In response allow me to point out that you get burnt by both, but at least the fire is interesting to look at.

The place I'm moving to is basically as far south and west as you can get in Dublin while still being on the transport system. Rathcoole to be exact. Intriguingly, within easy cycle-range of an area densely populated with prehistoric sites... burial mounds, tombs, stone circles and the like. I suspect if the Irish economic boom were to last another decade, Rathcoole would no longer be a relatively rural area on the edge of a big city. It would become a city suburb.

However I don't imagine that will happen (not that I plan to be in Rathcoole very long... it's very much a stepping stone... possibly to somewhere even more rural). No, my regular reader can probably guess the kind of odds I'd give on the Irish economic boom lasting another ten years.

See, although Ireland would be one of the least badly affected Western economies were a shortage of fossil fuels to play havoc with global capitalism, it's very much a relative thing... the difference, say, between a really really really hard kick in the balls and a really really really really hard kick in the balls. An altogether academic distinction to the man sobbing on the floor.

Home from Home (or: I Guess I'm Already There)

I left Ireland when I was twelve and I called seven countries on three continents "home" before I'd finished university. I've spent most of the time since university living in London. Living in nine separate places, though never south of the river. Of course. During that period I had extended stays living / working / travelling in Saudi Arabia, Germany, Brazil and the US (I spent almost the entirety of 1998 in Chicago). All that time though, I kept a flat in London. So by default London became the place I called "home" when I was living in hotels or tents.

It's the place I'm most familiar with. The place I have the longest uninterrupted connection with. It is my home. And now I'm leaving it "to go home".

Which, frankly, is all a bit fricking weird. When a cousin telephoned out of the blue and told me we'd have to go out for a drink "when I get home" I got a strange urge to whistle the Twilight Zone music.

All the same, Dublin is incontravertibly my "home town". I was born there, and lived there until the age of twelve. I was educated by the christian brothers and steeped in the unique mythology of Dublin at school and home alike. When I first set foot in Greece, I was definitely a child from Dublin. And so, for quite a few years I've known that one day I'd have to live there as a adult. Not for any exorcising demons bullshit (though there may well be a few ghosts lurking here and there), but simply because my understanding of who I am as a person will be forever lacking an essential component without a greater understanding of the place I came from.

Then I can piss off to the sun again.

Well, who knows? Neither my childhood memories nor my more recent short visits give the impression that it's a place I'd want to spend my life, but a confluence of external factors have made Dublin a good place for me to spend a year or two, so it makes sense to take this opportunity and learn a bit about the place while I'm there.

What about this place?

Well, there's a thing. To be honest, with my emigration / return being a shade less than five weeks away, I expect things to get a wee bit hectic and blogging to be light. Not that it could be much lighter than the past couple of months (I know, I know, I'm sorry... but I like to think I offer in quality what I lack in quantity. Matron.)

However I'm giving some serious consideration to reinvigorating my blogging efforts. Redoubling even. I have this hazy idea of tidying up my writing (just a very little bit), losing the nom de clavier, and focussing somewhat on Ireland (as seen through the eyes of someone who spent their childhood there, then spent 22 years all over the place, then came back).

Anyone who objects by saying that a switch of focus from the UK to "little old Ireland" might result in my writing becoming somehow less relevant, or less accessible, will be soundly beaten to death with a copy of Ulysses. Wielded by Shane MacGowan.

Not really. I'll do it.

I've no doubt that the same staggeringly destructive short-termism that I delight in revealing in British politicians is amply illustrated by their Irish counterparts (and if it isn't... well, that'll be a story in itself). And I'm curious to discover just how much damage the Celtic Tiger has done to the nation, how deeply the roots of Catholicism still go, and whether the spirit of a long and extraordinary history still lingers enough to be savoured without commodification or mediation.

We shall see.

Anyways, that's roughly the shape of things. Expect little activity between now and - say - the end of February. Then I'm going to launch the new site (probably using WordPress) with the new agenda, and threaten to firebomb the home of any bloggers I know who don't put me on their blogroll and big me up.

So yeah. Happy new year.

Merry Christmas!

2005-12-24T15:23:00.000+00:00

It's that time of the year again; when paganism, christianity and consumerism collide. And just like a three-truck pile-up on a motorway, even those of us without a great identification with any of them find ourselves slowing down and taking in the spectacle.

Paganism

To be honest, I don't really know what this word means. According to the charming dictionary people of Oxford, a pagan is synonymous with a heathen... which means simply "someone who isn't Christian, Jewish or Moslem". Obviously this isn't very satisfactory. I feel certain that whatever unites Buddhists, Hindus, African Animists, atheists and modern self-styled pagans is too ephemeral to be considered worthy of it's own word... let alone two of them.

Yet, being a friend of several self-proclaimed "pagans", there seems to be a great deal of disagreement amongst even them as to what the word means. The beliefs of one pagan don't often match the beliefs of another, and indeed often seem rather more fluid and ill-defined than the dogmatic / sacred-text religions against which the nice folks of Oxford would contrast them.

So would it be fair - therefore - to describe paganism simply as "spirituality without the dogma"? Religion without a book? Again though... it's hardly satisfactory... it still lumps Buddhists and Hindus and Animists and self-proclaimed Pagans together (only the strictest of atheists escape), and I don't feel there's enough to unite the beliefs of all those people beneath a single banner.

Perhaps we should merely extend Oxford's definition... pagans are those with a "spiritual belief system" who are outside the Big Five (Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam and Judaism). After all, surely Animism can be considered a form of paganism? Can't it?

Well, no. It can't.

Modern paganism - thanks to the lack of ancient texts, the only paganism we can truly know anything about - is a very different beast to traditional animism, as still practiced in much of Africa, parts of America (north and south) and Asia. Modern paganism has no tradition and is instead a set of individual beliefs derived primarily from the speculation of 18th and 19th century English academics and poets, and informed by the modern environmental movement.

This is not meant to denigrate paganism in particular. A spiritual belief based upon the speculation of 18th century Romantic poets and current ecological theory is just as valid as a spiritual belief based upon the writings of 1st century or 6th century or pre-Common Era mystics.

Christianity

On the surface, this appears to be an easier one to define and understand. But as the many disagreements with my flat-mate demonstrate; appearances can be deceiving. Having had a strict Christian upbringing (within the Roman Catholic tradition) it's my view that Christianity is found in books. A Christian is essentially a person who follows a set of rules and beliefs laid down in specific texts (and not merely "the bible" either; Catholicism - for instance - is a form of Christianity informed both by the bible, and the bible as interpreted by certain theologians... Saint Thomas Aquinas being the foremost of course).

My flat-mate (amongst others), however, would argue that Christianity can be better defined as the amalgamation of beliefs and behaviours of those who consider themselves christians. It isn't, therefore, what's found in the texts. Rather it's the visible manifestation of those texts.

Whilst studying theology, I always found the distinction between 'sacred-text' religions and other belief systems to be an essential one. Indeed it is the primary distinguishing feature of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Individual interpretation is irrelevant to these religions, which makes it possible for a christian to act in a non-christian manner. So long as a modern pagan doesn't openly admit to contravening their own belief-system, it is impossible to describe them as "unpagan"... for "pagan" is simply what they define it to be. A modern christian, however, who fails to "turn the other cheek" is clearly acting in an unchristian manner for example (cf. Dubya Bush, Tony Blair, et al).

There is a clear set of rules which must be followed in order to be acting in a christian manner. And failing to follow those rules ("forgive us those who trespass against us") means that one is betraying one's christianity. Just because Dubya Bush claims to be a Christian and claims to have God on his side, does not make cluster bombs "christian". Sacred text religions allow a person's actions to be judged against an ideal. That is what makes them what they are.

Consumerism

Now this one is uncontroversial. Let me restate that... the definition of this one is uncontroversial. Consumerism is a modern socio-cultural system derived from the economic system known as "capitalism". This is not to say that a form of consumerism couldn't have developed out of some other economic system. But historically we have what we have.

In essence, consumerism tells us that the consumption of products and services gained through economic exchange is a primary function of individual members of society. Indeed it goes further; it implies that such consumption is one of the primary purposes of individuals within society, and confers fulfillment to those individuals who engage in it.

The Collision

There's no question that a dedicated capitalist-consumerist cannot at the same time be a good christian. There's far too much decrying of material wealth and attachments within the sacred texts of christianity to allow a life dedicated to the consumption of economically-derived products and services to be considered anything other than unchristian.

Similarly, modern paganism - though undefinable - is clearly informed by modern environmentalism. And one cannot be a good capitalist-consumerist without doing unnecessary environmental damage.

And finally, it's clear that Christianity - whatever else it is - is a rejection of all forms of paganism. By locating itself within a dogmatic text (or texts) christianity refuses the individual's right to define their own spirituality. The only interpretations considered valid are those provided by a qualified or appointed member of the clergy. "Picking and choosing" those christian rules which best suit the individual is not the christian way.

As mentioned at the beginning of this piece, however, this collision of three entirely incompatible belief systems is a culturally special time, even for those of us who fail to subscribe to any of them. It's a time of hope; a time when our common humanity - whatever our beliefs - should be celebrated; a time of peace and goodwill to all men and women.

So please dear reader... have a very Merry Christmas!

The whirlwind

2005-12-01T12:23:00.000+00:00

Hallo there my loyal reader. I'm surprised you're still here to be honest; I've not been online very much of late. I find myself in ill-health and it turns out that medical stuff both takes up a lot more time than you'd give it credit for, and also makes a person less interested in prattling on about top ten albums or the utter idiocy of those in power.

Please don't feel too sympathetic though... if anything's to blame for this, it's my own mis-spent youth. So I am merely reaping what I've sown.

This, sadly, means somewhat sporadic blogging as I'm not turning this blog into "Jim's Health Journal". I can't imagine anything less interesting. I do have a piece of writing in the works about the phrase "History will be my judge" (and just how much it annoys me), but you'll have to wait a wee while longer for that. Be good.

Two items for your consideration

2005-11-16T00:23:00.000+00:00

The main news is that Joel has started to blog again, though as he mentions in his email, "blogging may be seldom". Nonetheless, even a solitary post per month from Mr. Biroco is probably more than the internet deserves. Head over there and read the only blog I wouldn't hesitate to describe as "literature".

Next. I know I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Astral Weeks genuinely is the finest album ever recorded. If you don't own it then you're going through life in a strange, empty shadow-world. And I pity you.

(there's nothing below the fold)

Traitor! (and other short observations)

2005-11-14T01:23:00.000+00:00

Traitor!

It's just been brought to my attention that the Right Rev. Ian Paisley was one of the MPs who voted against the 90-day internment law. Therefore, in the eyes of The Sun, the man is a traitor to the United Kingdom.

Now, while I'm no fan of Reverend Paisley, I'd still pay good money to watch Rebekah Wade tell him he's a traitor to his face. That'd be some Reality Television I'd approve of.

Shakespeare

William Shakespeare is shite. OK? And anyone who says otherwise has simply been brainwashed by the British education system. Deal with it.

His dialogue is stunted beyond belief... stunted to the point of unintelligibility. All this horseshit about "wonderful use of language" is just that... horseshit. I mean, it's not the archaic nature of the language, it's the sheer badness of it. Cultural imperialism has meant that Shakespeare gets revered all round the world, but it's perhaps the biggest example of Emperor's New Clothes syndrome that exists within literature.

The plots are unimaginative and flawed on almost every level. The characters never inspire the slightest bit of empathy and are often crude racist stereotypes. And dear god, that wooden dialogue.

Yes, I do have a wee chip on my shoulder about the fact that I - as an Irishman - spent some time in the British educational system and was exposed to the myth that Shakespeare is the pinnacle of literature in the English language. At the same time that I was studying Henry IV (1 & 2) I also happened to read Portrait of The Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce.

Night and fucking day.

Which isn't saying that you have to look to the Irish for good writing (though that's never a bad idea), and there's plenty of truly excellent literature to be found in this country. But I find this sycophantic lauding of 'The Bard' to be vaguely nauseating.

Oh yeah, and Falstaff just isn't funny.

Last.fm

There's an interesting website that I've just encountered (via Curious Hamster) called Last.fm. The basic premise is really very simple. You download a wee plug-in for your media player which then uploads the track information for every song / piece of music you listen to on your PC. This data is then put into charts and can be cross-referenced in all manner of interesting ways.

A very groovy site indeed if you listen to a lot of music on your computer. You can check in on what I'm listening to at any point by heading over to my own Last.fm page (which I've also conveniently made the top link on my left sidebar).

Coming soon

I'm starting to get the urge to write about stuff again (can you tell?) I think we can thank (or blame) The Sunt for this reawakening. Silver linings and what have you.

Currently in the works is a piece about just why it is that artists selling their music to advertisers is so shoddy (lots of stuff about fugue states and psychological imprinting / manipulation... kind of highbrow but with enough swearing to make it sufferable I hope).

I'm also a little tempted to get involved in the nuclear energy debate currently going on between Rochenko over at Smokewriting and Tim Worstall.

I'm aware that my off-hand dismissal of economists has irritated Tim in the past, and I'm genuinely sorry about that. He's a smart chap with some interesting stuff to say (for an economist). And I'd like to point out to Tim that my flippant remarks about economists are merely an attempt to prick the bubble of self-importance which surrounds the discipline. A bubble that I'm sure Tim (if he was feeling honest) would admit is there. It's no different to the habitual use of the phrase "tree-hugger" to prick exactly the same bubble that environmentalists frequently disappear into.

Economics can be an interesting and useful model of human interaction. But my problem is with those (and they are many in number) who confuse the model with reality... the map with the landscape.

Anyways, I'm part of the anti-nuke crew. For a whole bunch of reasons. And I hope to get round to expanding on those reasons soon. Though it's possible I may use the comments facility on Tim and Rochenko's blogs to do so. If that's the case, I'll provide a handy link from here.

Weekend wittering

2005-11-14T00:23:00.000+00:00

I'm feeling miserable. So bear with me.

"But why", asks my loyal and sympathetic reader, "why are you feeling miserable jim?" Well, it's for a number of reasons really... but the main one being that this weekend was the *mumble mumble*-year anniversary of me becoming single. That's a whole *mumble mumble* years of celibacy and waking up alone and not having anyone to hold onto during those long dark nights of the soul. And *mumble mumble* years is a long time believe me. About *mumble mumble* years too long in fact. So if I seem a tad more bitter than usual over the next few days, you know why it is.

And as if to rub salt in the wound...

As I was walking up to the postal sorting office yesterday morning to pick up a package (a spindle of blank discs from a well-known online retailer) I noticed two very lovely women walking towards me. It was a bright but cold morning and as we neared one another, the prettiest of the two stopped, smiled and said "good morning!" to me.

Now, I'm not Brad Pitt so I ain't exactly well-versed in how to handle this situation (that said, I don't make small children spontaneously burst into tears either). Nonetheless, there was an obvious response, and I hit upon it... I smiled and said "Good morning!" right back.

I felt pleased with myself. "This whole conversing with gorgeous strangers thing isn't nearly as hard as I'd imagined", I thought. Though I did desperately hope that my lovely new friend would speak next. I had no idea where to go after "good morning".

And my hopes were fulfilled. She did speak next. She said, "I'd like to share the love of Our Lord Jesus Christ with you".

The Romans had it right: throw 'em to the lions!

I'm not entirely sure that anyone can honestly claim to understand the word "crestfallen" until they've been in this situation.

I silently wished I'd been wearing my "Catholic School Survivor" t-shirt under my jacket. But I wasn't. So instead I realised that I'd have to fall back on one of the classics. Choosing one, I allowed the smile to drain from my face and - narrowing my eyes - I fixed her with a steely gaze. Then, quietly but forcefully I responded with the three words guaranteed to make her think twice about evangelising to strangers.

"Satan Is Lord" I said. And walked briskly past her.

Now, the great thing about the 'satan is lord' strategy is the vast disparity between the meaning those words have in my mind, and the meaning they have in the mind of a True Believer. From my point of view I've said something very silly indeed. From her point of view, however, I've said the worst thing imaginable. And now, every time she approaches some poor schlepp with her desire to share God's infinite love, she'll have a vague worry that they might be another plainclothes satanist.

That may seem sadistic - or at least gratuitously disruptive - to you, my dear sensitive reader. And I'm afraid we'll just have to differ on that. To me the buggers are fair game.

See, evangelicals really wind me up. I have nothing against people believing in imaginary beings in the privacy of their own homes. Indeed, I've been there myself. And I guarantee, if you munch enough mushrooms, you'll be there too. More than that, I'm happy to let them gather and believe in imaginary shit together. They can even build special buildings to do it in. Hell yeah, knock yourselves out. Believe in a race of 6-inch high rhinocerous people from the planet Spunk if you want. Seriously, you have my blessing.

But evangelicals aren't happy to leave it like that. Oh no, they won't be happy until everyone else believes in their rhinoids too. And frankly that annoys me. It's the reason for so much of the truly nasty shit that people have done to each other historically... it's not just annoying and - when done by someone fanciable - a tease. Though it's that too obviously.

My first thought whenever I'm spiritually assaulted by one of these missionaries is "The fucking gall! How dare they!" There's nothing more patronising than stopping me in the street and telling me that - as far as the important stuff goes - my understanding of the world, and of life, is infinitely inferior to theirs. But that if I listen to what they say, I can be cured of all my misconceptions and ascend to their level.

I want to shake them by the shoulders and explain that, actually, I've been studying theology pretty seriously since I was nine fucking years old! I have debated the existence of god with jesuits who have Phd's in theology and divinity coming out of their ears. There is nothing that some street-evangelist in East London can tell me that I haven't already heard and dismissed for extremely good reasons.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying "I know all the answers". Because I really don't. But I do have a far better set of questions than any street evangelist.

And I'm also not saying that every christian preacher or missionary earns my contempt. That used to be the case, but I've since met some quite staggeringly admirable people whose faith has taken them to some of the shittiest places on the planet, where they are - quite incontravertibly - doing very good work. But wandering the streets of London harrassing strangers just doesn't cut it... too little Jesus Christ and too much St. Paul.

Remember... Satan is Lord.

More about 'The Sun'

2005-11-11T12:23:00.000+00:00

I will spend an hour researching, drafting and submitting an independent complaint to the Press Complaints Commission about Rebekah Wade's conduct and/or material published by the Sun before and after the 90-day terror law vote, but only if 50 other people will too.

To be honest, I really couldn't wait until 50 others signed up, and I've already made a complaint to the Press Complaints Commission with regards to the cynical manipulation of Mr. Tulloch's image to further the agenda of a national tabloid newspaper.

I urge my reader to do the same.

I've got some links below the fold to help you do just that, as well as the text of my complaint (note: it's important that people draft their own text - though basing it loosely upon a template is probably fine - as obvious carbon copies will be ignored).

There are two distinct issues which have left The Sunt open to legitimate complaint this week. The first is the use of Mr. John Tulloch's image juxtaposed with a headline that completely contradicts his views (discussed in my piece yesterday). The second is the attack on those who voted against the 90-day measure, and labelling them "traitors".

I have chosen to focus on the first of those (for no other reason than it angers me in a way that newspapers haven't done for some time) but people should feel free to complain about both.

Links and ting

First head on over to "Report Rebekah Wade to the PCC - and do it today" at bloggerheads and read Tim's piece. He includes all of the important links, but just for reference...

The Sun front page that pissed me off.
The 'Traitors' one.

The Press Complaints Commission:
- Home page
- Code of Practice
- Online complaints form

Notes for making a complaint:
- it is important that a link to the piece in question is included.
Tulloch:
http://www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,2005050000-2003410033,00.html

Traitors:
http://www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,2005050000-2005082056,00.html

- it is important that the relevant clauses of the Code of Practice (the ones you feel have been breached) are listed in your complaint (you can identify them simply by number and don't have to cite the full text):

1 - Accuracy
i) The Press must take care not to publish inaccurate, misleading or distorted information, including pictures.

ii) A significant inaccuracy, mis-leading statement or distortion once recognised must be corrected, promptly and with due prominence, and - where appropriate - an apology published.

iii) The Press, whilst free to be partisan, must distinguish clearly between comment, conjecture and fact.

5 - Intrusion into grief or shock
In cases involving personal grief or shock, enquiries and approaches must be made with sympathy and discretion and publication handled sensitively. This should not restrict the right to report legal proceedings, such as inquests.

And finally, this is the text of my complaint. I don't suggest you use it as a template as I'm actually quite unhappy with the wording. I suspect you, dear reader, can come up with something better...

Clauses breached:
Clause 1 (i) and (iii) plus Clause 5.

URL of story:
http://www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,2005050000-2003410033,00.html

To Whom It May Concern:

The Sun's front page on November 8th initially angered me for the blatant piece of political manipulation that it is. However I assumed that the pictured bomb victim had permitted his image to be used and had expressed the sentiment of the headline (though I did assume it wasn't a direct quote as it did not have quotation marks). Therefore it seemed like just another example of a tabloid being its usual shameful self.

The anger I felt, however, was as nothing compared to my anger and dismay when - two days later in The Guardian - it was revealed that the gentleman in question (Mr. John Tulloch) had not been consulted about the use of his image and indeed held views which directly contradicted those expressed in the headline!

It is appalling that a national newspaper can feature a full - front page - image of a person in the midst of an extremely traumatic event and clearly imply that the person holds a particular view in the hope of making readers more sympathetic towards that view. If this cynical manipulation of facts, images and reader opinion is allowed to go unchallenged it makes a complete mockery of everything that a newspaper is supposed to stand for. It erodes trust in British journalism in general, as well as causing clear distress to the individual pictured (as expressed in the Guardian piece).

Mr. Tulloch is owed an apology from The Sun which is as prominent as the piece which deliberately misrepresented him. And perhaps almost as importantly, The Sun has a duty to inform its readers about the nasty manipulation of their views and emotions it engaged in through the deceitful use of images and headlines.

Please folks, do make a complaint about this. We all accept that tabloid newspapers engage in shoddy journalism and corporate propaganda. However The Sun have stepped way over the line this time and need to be held to account.

Rebekah Wade needs to resign

2005-11-10T19:23:00.000+00:00

I'm not the first to make this call. Tim over at bloggerheads (in a post entitled Rebekah Wade hijacks victims of terrorism) beat me to it, as I'm sure have many others.

And of course, it's probably a bit silly to criticise The Sun in its capacity as a newspaper. It is a shameful and sordid publication whose pages rarely if ever contain anything resembling "news". The editorial and journalistic staff are scum. Opportunistic, money-grubbing hacks with no integrity and a willingness to misinform the public in order to push a foul corporate agenda.

There's nothing new about that of course, but it seems clear that they have crossed a line with regards to recent politicial events and must be held accountable in some way. The resignation of the editor, Rebekah Wade, is the very least that should happen (I'd also favour a hefty fine for the newspaper's owner and perhaps a slap around the face for everyone who works there).

On the day of the House of Commons vote on whether to allow the police to detain people for 90 days without charge, The Sunt ran with the following front-page...

Tell Tony He's Right

Now, as I've already argued; it makes no sense to bestow legislative powers on individuals merely because they, or a family member, have suffered a traumatic experience. Indeed while those people should be listened to, sympathised with, and comforted; they are the last people we want creating new laws. Laws need to be drawn up, voted upon and enforced with objectivity. The victims of the terrible attacks in July may well possess that objectivity but it should be assumed that they do not (human beings have emotional responses to extremely traumatic experiences, which typically have a tendency to cloud their objectivity).

Also, and I don't wish to sound callous here, but the fact remains that in a society that's democratic (in name at least) we don't decide who gets to pass laws and who doesn't based upon whether or not they were injured in a suicide-bombing. The chap on the front page of The Sun has suffered more than I have at the hands of extremists. But I'm afraid that doesn't mean he gets to vote more often than me in the next election, and it doesn't mean that his voice should be listened to more than mine on the subject of legislative policy.

(assuming I wasn't asleep during the meeting when we decided to choose our law-makers by suicide-bomb-lottery rather than one-person-one-vote)

But I'm not calling for Rebekah Wade's resignation because of her piss-poor understanding of representative democracy. You'd have thought her incredible ignorance on this issue would be a hindrance for someone editing a national newspaper, but that's really a matter for her employer.

And I'm not even calling for her resignation because of the decision to exploit the suffering of an individual to further a political agenda. That - after all - is one of the primary functions of The Sun. It's the sort of unethical and objectionable behaviour that should merit resignation of course. But Rebekah Wade works for a tabloid... objectionability and a total lack of ethics is a job requirement.

No. The reason Rebekah Wade needs to resign is this.

When Tuesday's Sun featured one of the iconic images from 7/7 alongside the headline 'Tell Tony He's Right', the implication was clear: the victim backed the PM's tough anti-terror measures. There was just one problem: John Tulloch doesn't. In fact, [...] he is angrier with the politicians than the bombers.

You see, it appears that The Sun ran that front-page image without consulting the person pictured in it. Not only that, they have clearly misrepresented him in a manner that I'm shocked is not actually criminal.

This is using my image to push through draconian and utterly unnecessary terrorism legislation. It's incredibly ironic that The Sun's rhetoric is as the voice of the people yet they don't actually ask the people involved, the victims, what they think. If you want to use my image, the words coming out of my mouth would be, "Not in my name, Tony". I haven't read anything or seen anything in the past few months to convince me these laws are necessary.

Another music post

2005-11-10T00:23:00.000+00:00

Don't worry, I'm not about to bang on about artists selling their music to advertisers so that they (the advertisers) can better manipulate us. I have a long piece about that (less about the Eno thing / more about the general principle) in the works. Hopefully it'll be finished soon.

No, this is a much more benign (some might even say "throwaway") post. I was recently asked by an acquaintance how many songs were on my mp3 player. She's a lovely person but she isn't a music geek, so when I responded with "probably about 6,000 or so... if you assume an average of 8 tracks per album" she was somewhat flabbergasted.

She told me that her music collection comprised roughly 25 CDs. Most of them "best of" collections from bands I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire. Still, if people wish to travel through life surrounded by bad artists (or worse... "musical entertainers") then so be it.

But this person was clearly intrigued by someone whose mp3 player alone (i.e. not my entire music collection) currently contains about 700 albums. When did I have time to listen to all this music? Have I actually heard every one of the 6,000 songs? How long would it take to listen through every album, single and EP in my collection? And importantly... which ones were the best? Which ones did I listen to most often? Which ones did I never listen to?

I answered all of her questions, and will do so again for the benefit of my poor beleaguered reader.

When did I have time to listen to all this music?
I have music playing almost constantly. And I probably spend a good two hours every day devoting my full attention to it. I think I'd probably go a bit mad if I didn't (or at least "madder"). Losing myself in music is kind of like sleeping, in that I start to get a bit frayed around the edges if I don't do it for a few days.

Have I actually heard every one of the 6,000 songs?
To the best of my knowledge; yes. Though it's probable that I've heard a small minority no more than once. I've been assured, for instance, that William Shatner's recent album, "Has Been", is a worthy and surprisingly beautiful album. Maybe one day I'll give it another chance...

How long would it take to listen through every album, single and EP in my collection?
Well, bearing in mind the amount of vinyl and cassettes that remain as yet undigitised, I can really only tell - with any degree of accuracy - how long it would take to listen to the stuff already ripped and whose ones and zeroes are neatly filed on my hard-drive. And the answer to that is "a shade under three weeks".

Which ones were the best?
Well, I didn't answer this directly. Instead I suggested ten albums which she should add to her collection and which would provide a window on the world of good music (I wasn't quite that patronising in person of course). These are the ten albums that no person should ever be without. Albums which should be at the heart of any music collection and which mark a person out as a person of discerning taste, impeccible intelligence and staggering good looks...

1. The White Album - The Beatles.
2. Astral Weeks - Van Morrison.
3. Sign 'O' The Times - Prince.
4. Horses - Patti Smith.
5. Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys.
6. Low - David Bowie.
7. Ambient 4: On Land - Brian Eno.
8. Vespertine - Björk.
9. Remain In Light - Talking Heads.
10. Closer - Joy Division.

Now, naturally no list of ten can possibly be exhaustive. Indeed, the above list barely scratches the surface. But with those ten in your collection, a person can hold their head high and point out that they have some damn fine music for almost any occasion or mood.

Which ones did I listen to most often?
I took that to be a question about current listening habits, rather than a request to total up all the hours listening to Another Green World and establishing whether there's more of them than there are hours spent listening to Disintegration. And right now, the ten albums I've got on heaviest rotation are:

1. Faith (remastered edition) - The Cure.
2. Hatful of Hollow - The Smiths.
3. The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses.
4. You Are The Quarry - Morrissey.
5. Hypocrisy Is the Greatest Luxury - Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy.
6. Strangeways, Here We Come - The Smiths.
7. Graceland - Paul Simon.
8. Dub Plate Selection - Twilight Circus.
9. Lead Us Not Into Temptation - David Byrne.
10. Achtung Baby - U2.

Which ones did I never listen to?
Well, never say never. I scrolled through the albums on my mp3 player and listed ten that I hadn't listened to this year (except when a track has come on 'shuffle'). It's important to note that (with the possible exception of Item #5) all of these are fine albums...

1. Animals, Suns & Atoms - Tarwater.
2. Rite Now - Julian Cope.
3. Music for Prepared Piano Vol. 2 - John Cage.
4. The Madcap Laughs - Syd Barrett.
5. Gold - Prince.
6. Woman's Gotta Have It - Cornershop.
7. Live In Philadelphia - Atari Teenage Riot.
8. C'est Si Bon - Louis Armstrong.
9. National Hijinx - Journeyman.
10. The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan - Bob Dylan.

Internment

2005-11-09T21:23:00.000+00:00

This afternoon the government of the United Kingdom tried to pass a law giving the police powers to detain people on suspicion of terrorism for 90 days without charge, trial or representation. Spearheaded by Tony Blair and his authoritarian chums in response to demands from "the police" (interestingly, I have heard high-ranking police officers claim that internment would be a disaster and would make community-based intelligence gathering next to impossible... so when Tony Blair says "the police" it's wise to keep in mind that he means "those police I choose to listen to and who say roughly what I want them to say").

Of course, there are those who complain that this policy is not internment (in the Northern Irish sense) at all. "Look at the details of its implementation!" they cry, as though the people alienated by this policy - the very people the police are trying to woo as part of their intelligence gathering - will be interested in the minor procedural differences between "being locked up without charge or representation for 90 days" and "internment".

Internment proved so good at recruiting disaffected people into extremist organisations in Northern Ireland, that one can only assume Tony Blair is actively seeking to increase the number of terrorists in this country. The theory must be that more terrorists means more arrests, and so makes the police look better. Hence why "the police" want this law so much I guess.

That more terrorists may also mean more carnage on our public transport is clearly not worrying Blair or his minions who only use buses or the tube for photo-ops when they want to seem like they're doing something for the non-chauffeur-driven plebs.

Over at a blog called Harry's Place, a commentator called "brownie" has explained just why we need those 90 days of internment. Actually, no they haven't. Brain-dead brownie, in the piece entitled "Uncivil liberties", has instead merely trotted out sub-Daily Mail wankery, irrational prejudice and deeply flawed reasoning in a demonstration of intellectual paucity unrivalled since Oliver Kamm's recent book (which I haven't read, but the man's an oaf so I'm comfortable with my prejudice).

However, as I'm feeling in a particularly foul mood, let's have a closer look at brownie's "reasoning" and allow it to unravel before our eyes. We begin with the classic tabloid tactic of demanding new laws based upon whatever shocking hypothesis the writer chooses to invent.

So the next atrocity occurs and it transpires that all three perpetrators were known to the security services and had in fact been in police custody some weeks earlier, only to be released before charges could be brought. Police had indicated that insufficient time was available to collate data they were in the process of extracting from the hard disks of several computers. Incriminating documents that had recently come to light in another EU country had also yet to be delivered by the relevant authorities when the 14-day detention period expired.

There's no evidence at all that any of the bombers that struck London were ever investigated by the police, let alone arrested and held for any period of time. This bears repeating... the extension of the current internment period from 14 to 90 days would have had precisely zero impact on any recent terrorist acts that occurred in the real world (as opposed to the imagination of fevered authoritarians). There are reports that one of the bombers was "known to the police". This is rather vague, and is only relevant if the police are also expecting to be granted powers to detain everyone they know for 90 days.

Brownie's point, above, invents a specific danger that might be alleviated by the imposition of a 90-day period. But let's imagine that the 90-day thing had passed through the House of Commons and was now law. Let me restate brownie's opening paragraph as an argument against that 90 day period...

So the next atrocity occurs and it transpires that all three perpetrators were known to the security services and had in fact been in police custody some weeks earlier, only to be released before charges could be brought. Police had indicated that insufficient time was available to collate data they were in the process of extracting from the hard disks of several computers. Incriminating documents that had recently come to light in another EU country had also yet to be delivered by the relevant authorities when the 90-day detention period expired.

See? It turns out we actually need more than 90 days. In fact I have no problem imagining a scenario where the police would require powers to lock up suspects for 5 years without trial. Y'know... so long as we're using imagination as the basis for important legislation.

Brownie continues with the convenient fiction...

The Independent newspaper devotes 12 page of copy to a system process failure that has left 50 people dead and scores of families missing a father, mother, son or daughter. The Prime Minister, a stalwart defender of civil liberties who ignored the advice of the security services and police chiefs to permit suspects to be held without trial for a maximum 90 days, even with the safety net of continuous 7-day judicial review and an annual sunset clause, is forced to resign amid opposition claims that he has "blood on his hands".

Just so you get the point, by the way, let's restate the above paragraph...

The Independent newspaper devotes 12 page of copy to a system process failure that has left 50 people dead and scores of families missing a father, mother, son or daughter. The Prime Minister, a stalwart defender of civil liberties who ignored the advice of the security services and police chiefs to permit suspects to be held without trial for a maximum 1,825 days, even with the safety net of continuous 7-day judicial review and an annual sunset clause, is forced to resign amid opposition claims that he has "blood on his hands".

"Ah, but hang on", you say, "the police aren't asking for five years... they only want 90 days". And that's true. But when 90 days doesn't stop the next attack (bearing in mind it wouldn't have stopped the last one) then who knows what the police will ask for?

Which brings me conveniently to the important point. "The police" are not asking for 90-days. "The police Blair's listening to" are asking for it. Some others may be asking for 42 days, or 28 days, or 5 years. But listen; even if all of them... every single person wearing a police uniform... agreed that 90 days was required, so what?

The police do not make the laws. They enforce those laws that we, the people, believe are required. They work for us and they do what we tell them to do. They do not tell us what powers they should have. We grant them such powers as we choose to grant. If they cannot fulfill their duty using their existing powers, then I suggest we fire them and hire some who can.

To repeat: internment for 90 days without charge would not have prevented the July bombings in London. These extra powers are being requested based upon hypothetical scenarios. And the fact is; I don't trust the police. Sorry, but there you have it. I trust them slightly more than soldiers and slightly less than drug-dealers. So when they tell me that they want additional powers to detain people without charge, I'm naturally sceptical.

"Show me evidence", is my natural response, "that these powers will make me safer, and will not merely make you more powerful and the rest of us less so". No such evidence exists. And giving additional powers to the police based upon the stated desires of those officers favoured by Tony Blair, as opposed to actual evidence, is a shoddy way to draw up legislation.

Brownie continues the demand for more powers with the classic tabloid trick of holding a tragic image under our noses and claiming that means whatever they say it does. In this case, we have poor Mrs. Johnson...

Mrs. Johnson, newly widowed and childless after her family was wiped out en route to football match, is asked by Jon Snow of Channel 4 news about striking the right balance between preservation of civil liberties and defence of the realm and its citizens.

Except she isn't, because such questions posed in the aftermath of yet another atrocity, directed at a grieving relatives, just sound like so much offensive, platitudinous hogwash.

Of course she isn't asked those questions! Not only doesn't she exist (which makes asking her anything at all very difficult), but if she did exist it would be insensitive in the extreme to discuss her recent loss in the abstract terms of national legislative policy.

But, and let's be clear on this; that does not mean that national policy on issues such as terrorism-prevention and civil-liberties should be set by the families of dead victims. Perhaps it is brownie's intention to hand over the running of our country to policemen and grieving parents, but it's not something I want to see. Imaginary Mrs. Johnson doesn't get to pass laws for the rest of us just because her family was murdered. She has no more right to lay down the rules of society than do the police.

France burns

2005-11-08T12:23:00.000+00:00

Could someone explain what the hell is going on in France? I stop watching the news for a few days (figured I could do with a short break) and return to discover that France is being burnt down. It's all very strange.

One theory I've heard is that the recent deaths by electrocution of two Moslem teenagers from a socially deprived background have been like a spark to a pre-existing powderkeg of seething resentment and social alienation. Some people believe the police are responsible for the tragic deaths, and emotions that had been steadily building over a long period have finally erupted.

The response from the government has been draconian (instigating curfews and rounding up hundreds of people each night), insensitive and massively divisive (comments from the Interior Minister seemed to imply that anyone who sympathised with the stated reasons for the violence... even if not condoning the violence itself... were apologists for, and no better than, thugs and extremists). This has provoked an escalation in the violence.

Another theory is that the terrible deaths of the teenagers was the last thing the police wanted. Yes, they were pursuing the kids in response to an alleged crime. But the decision by the teenagers to hide in an electricity substation was completely outside the control of the police and had nothing to do with race, religion or social class. A tiny minority within the poorer communities... agitators, thugs and perhaps something even more sinister... have leapt upon this terrible accident and are ruthlessly exploiting it to forward an extremist agenda.

The deaths of those teenagers wasn't part of some great social exclusionary principle, but just plain bad luck. And while there's no question that inequity within society and racial and religious tension all need to be urgently addressed, the rioters are deliberately exacerbating the situation and dragging France further away from any kind of solution, not towards one.

Both of those theories (rough, ready and incomplete though they are) can adequately explain the events in France during the past two weeks. But neither of them really satisfy me. I think there's something going on that's being missed or ignored in the media.

My theory (also known as "The Truth") is that French automobile manufacturers and importers are secretly distributing flyers in the poorer parts of France promising a "bounty" on each car torched. In an era when high oil prices are making car ownership more expensive, people are far more likely to delay replacing their cars. A high oil price might mean record profits for oil companies, but it hits the automakers hard.

And of course, in these times of social inequity and increasing economic hardship within some French communities, there will always be a ready supply of unemployed young men who see no future. And they can be easily recruited as agents of the car industry to artificially raise demand for their product.

Think about it.

Still little to say

2005-10-27T17:23:00.000+01:00

Well you can't say you weren't warned. The days pass and still I'm bereft of inspiration. Adrift on an ocean of something-or-other.

The world keeps turning. Hurtling towards all manner of very scary and inconveniently scheduled disasters. But the seething rage that best inspires polemical wittering (sometimes known, quaintly, as "political blogging") is currently absent without leave as I suffer a bout of post-Catholic Understanding.

The rage did flare briefly with the Brian Eno thing, which frankly I still find appalling... there's just no need for it. But that was merely a spark as the capitalist breeze blew across some banked-down coals. Lately I've found myself watching Question Time, and where I should be filling with the fire of righteous retribution and storming the Houses of Parliament baying for "the head of Tony Blair" or demanding that "the streets run red with the blood of our leaders" (the normal, rational and perfectly justifiable response to modern politics) I instead succumb to an involuntary attack of empathy.

Is it not possible, I wonder, that our leaders may actually be fools and fuck-ups instead of evil scum? We're all just a bunch of cursed monkeys after all... maybe there's just no other way for it to go down. The fuck-ups at the top are just as trapped in a system programmed to self-destruct as those right at the bottom. And in return for their material comforts they'll be forced to watch in horror as they're blamed for the whole mess.

Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions.
- Albert Einstein

The world is going to hell in a handbasket. War, famine, pestilence and death are riding their monstrous steeds roughshod over the face of our battered planet. Earthquakes that "wipe out a generation", hurricanes that rip the beating heart from the most powerful nation on earth and tsunamis that obliterate the coastline of half a continent. Tsunamis for crying out loud! Tell you what... if I was living next to a volcano, I'd be feeling pretty damn twitchy right about now.

Most of this stuff is avoidable though... those four horsemen are only metaphors for human failing and not the literal and physical embodiment of the apocalypse as a certain US president would have you believe. No, I don't mean the tsunamis and hurricanes are crafted by human hand (though, with a greater danger of climate-change-related sea-level rises, it probably makes sense for us to begin the methodical evacuation of particularly vulnerable areas). But the famine and the war and the pestilence are - theoretically at least - within the power of humanity to control and eliminate. The fact that we are not, and are not likely to do so, can be primarily attributed to a crisis of leadership.

But this crisis of leadership is itself a product of modern political culture. Our combination of neo-liberal consumerism and representative democracy has created a society that is pathologically short-termist. It is to Tony Blair's credit (and it's not often you'll find me opening a sentence with those words) that he recognises and publicly acknowledges this fact. Earlier this year, in a speech to the World Economic Forum on the subject of climate change, Blair stated:

if we put forward, as a solution to climate change, something which involves drastic cuts in growth or standards of living, it matters not how justified it is, it simply won't be agreed to.
- Tony Blair (27/01/2005)

And he recently reiterated this in a speech to a conference in New York (organised by Bill Clinton) on the subject of "global challenges" when he pointed out:

The truth is, no country is going to cut its growth or consumption substantially in the light of a long-term environmental problem.
- Tony Blair (25/09/2005)

Blair accepts that climate change is one of the most important (if not the most important) of the global challenges facing us today. This is a view echoed by the overwhelming majority of climate scientists and informed commentators. Mind you, the author of Jurassic Park and Congo thinks otherwise, as do numerous pro-fossil fuel, oil-company-financed lobbying groups... so it would be wrong to imply a complete consensus of opinion.

But, ignoring the silly paranoia of writers of bad fiction and those with a vested financial interest in selling as much fossil fuel as possible; everyone agrees that we need to address the issue of anthropogenic climate change in some fashion. There are - broadly speaking - two approaches to addressing the issue.

Approach #1: Efforts are begun right now to massively reduce our carbon emissions. This would not be done in cases where such reduction would actively endanger human life. However, while we would clearly seek to minimise economic disruption where possible; the fate of the planet will be considered a higher priority than present economic growth. Therefore, until a practical alternative to this course of action is demonstrated, economic growth will be sacrificed in order to minimise the danger that anthropogenic climate change poses to future generations.

Approach #2: We continue roughly as we have done. Obviously the gratuitous addition of carbon to the atmosphere will be discouraged (using market forces, not political intervention) but individuals and companies will remain free to burn fossil fuels if they can afford to do so. However, economic incentives will be introduced to encourage cleaner technologies and alternative methods of dealing with waste carbon.

The first of these (active intervention to reduce carbon emissions) requires sacrifice on the part of the wealthy nations and is primarily a decision based upon ethics. We decide that our immediate wealth and personal gratification are less important, from a moral perspective, than the well-being of generations as yet unborn. This in turn can only be secured by strong political leadership, and given that type of leadership... someone who can demonstrate the value of making this economic sacrifice... then Approach #1 has a high chance of reducing human impact on the climate as well as setting us upon the road to a more sustainable future.

The second of these, however, requires neither sacrifice nor strong political leadership. It assumes that carbon emissions can be reduced while maintaining economic growth. It assumes that someone else will deal with the problem at some point in the future and aims to place market mechanisms in place to increase the likelihood of this occurring. So there is simply no way - barring the invention of a time machine - to assess the chances that Approach #2 has of reducing human impact on the climate. It is a matter of faith.

The two statements made by Blair must therefore be viewed as an acknowledgement that he is incapable of providing the political leadership required to implement Approach #1. That despite his belief that climate change is a very serious issue, he will nonetheless choose Approach #2 - placing the safety of future generations (his own children) - in the hands of an act of faith.

Which should inspire at least enough ire to warrant a lambasting, right? Except it doesn't. At least not right now (though these bouts of serene acceptance rarely last very long). Right now it seems to me that Blair's attitude towards Climate Change, and his statements on the issue, are no more than confirmation of that dark truth spoken by Einstein.

Sell out

2005-10-19T00:23:00.000+01:00

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Fuck it all.

You think you've grown as cynical and jaded about famous artists as is possible to get. But every now and then, something comes along that reveals a small, shining glimmer of idealism still remains. And then that something stamps it into the ground with a dirty great boot.

Brian Eno was one of the artists I felt had genuine integrity. I've met the man a couple of times and - along with his book (A Year With Swollen Appendices) and various interviews - that was my overwhelming impression of him.... intelligent and honourable. A man of integrity. And I respected him hugely for that. Quite aside from the fact that he made some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard.

Sadly my respect for the man was dealt a potentially fatal blow a few moments ago when I switched on the TV and saw he'd taken on a new job. He's now a corporate salesman for a large telecommunications firm.

One of the most beautiful albums ever recorded is Eno's Music For Airports. The haunting, fragile music has lulled me to sleep more often than I can possibly recall. It may well be the most-listened-to album in my collection for that very reason. It has coloured my dreams for many many years. But no longer, I'm afraid. The subtle colours of Music For Airports have been crudely painted over with a single gaudy shade of orange.

One viewing of that 30 second hard-sell has altered forever the opening piece on Music For Airports and by extension the album as a whole. Television can do that, you know. A visual medium has that power. And I'm damn certain that Eno is aware of that too. His past work clearly means very little to him if he's content to have it remembered as "that music from the Orange ad".

What's next I wonder? Shilling SUVs with Neroli? Or maybe he'll do a sales pitch for McDonalds? Nike and The Gap are always looking for new music to sell the products of their sweatshops... maybe he could give them something off his last album? Or perhaps dig into his back catalogue again... take another piece of music that was once worth something to some of us and reduce it to an advertising jingle for pensions.

Now, I'm certain that there are many people out there working in sales for Orange (or some other mobile phone company) who are decent people with integrity... trapped like the rest of us in this rat-race and making a living as best they can. But they haven't shat all over a piece of art; one that had real value in the eyes of many; in order to earn an extra bonus.

And even if he's donating his fee to charity (he's a patron of War Child after all) it's still a shoddy thing to do. Helping a global corporation sell more environmentally destructive tat to a population already saturated with consumer bullshit in the name of charity just doesn't cut it. Not when he could donate the proceeds of an album, or a year's worth of royalties, or whatever.

I mean, it's not like the man who produces U2 and David Bowie albums is short of a few quid... quite aside from the fact that he's had a successful recording career himself and - in the past - also produced highly successful albums for the likes of Talking Heads, James and many others. How much fucking money does one person need?

Sadly, I suspect I'll no longer drift off to sleep to the gorgeous strains of Music For Airports. The last thing I want, after all, is to have my dreams coloured by advertising jingles.

The universe is made of 'Frustration'

2005-10-07T13:23:00.000+01:00

Via Mark at Strange Attractor comes this wonderful short video of 91-year-old telescope-maker, John Dobson, and his theory that Frustration is the basis of the continued existence of the universe. You'll need Media Player to view it, but it's well-worth the download. Check it out here.

(there's nothing below the fold)

So what's up then?

2005-10-06T22:23:00.000+01:00

I know, I know; I've been incredibly slack (blog-wise) of late. There's two reasons for this... firstly - believe it or not - it looks like by the beginning of next week I'll have finally caught up with the notional schedule of mine that's been eluding my grasp since midsummer. The three projects I've been working on should have all their loose ends tied up by Monday (just in time for the start of another major project... this time for The Government, so I'd like to thank all you taxpayers for my Christmas paycheque). And a couple of other (non-work) things that have been consuming my time are starting to slack off too.

So in theory I'm ready to return to (semi-)regular blogging very soon. Leastways I would be if it wasn't for the second reason for my lack of blogging: a lack of inspiration.

I've got five or six half-written posts and a couple of almost-done articles. But nothing that makes me tingle. Nothing that makes me think "people need to read this". Don't get me wrong; they're as well-written as anything else I write... they all have that trademark mixture of intelligent analysis, inexplicable tangents and irreverence that my reader knows and loves. I don't have "writers block"... I just don't feel like I've got an awful lot to say right now.

When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed

Of course this blog isn't always about having something of great import to impart. But there's so much "serious" stuff happening in the world right now that it seems weird not to have anything to say about it. I mean, I could rattle on about the Tory Party's farcical leadership contest, or about nuLabor's suppression of dissent. I could analyse the many news stories about oil pricing and availability or I could discuss Iraq and the increasingly weird news surrounding that particular debacle.

And yes, of course I have stuff to say about all that... but it all seems so obvious and basically not-worth-listening-to.

So yeah, I'm going to try and get back to regular blogging, but you'll have to forgive me if I get a bit lightweight for a bit until I find my political inspiration again (expect blog memes, music posts, amusing links, tales of pot-induced silliness... that sort of thing). And in that spirit, allow me to unveil that old blogging stalwart...

The last 10 tracks to play on my media-player

Kathy's Song - Simon & Garfunkel
A dizzyingly beautiful song of love and loss. It always calls to mind an old girlfriend from many years ago whose name was not Kathy.

I Just Wasn't Made For These Times - The Beach Boys
This song - of course - is one I identify with personally. But you already knew that, right?

Marching Through The Wilderness (live) - David Byrne
Samba percussion and Byrne's exquisite guitar playing make this version of the Rei Momo classic a real joy to bop along to. "I'm marching through the wilderness / Crying out for tenderness / They call me Mr. Pitiful... but everything is wonderful"

Because (Anthology 3 version) - The Beatles
Ethereal and strange without the instrumentation... very lovely indeed.

Mutherfuker - Beck
Dirty and incoherent and nasty and fantastic. Turn up really loud! And remember... "EVERYONE'S OUT TO GET YOU MUTHERFUKER!"

Shine A Light (live) - Spiritualized
I go all the way back with Spiritualized. I can recall listening to their first single on a lot of acid back in uni and feeling tears well up in my eyes... "This music is too beautiful". "I know", replied Richard, also teary-eyed. I was actually at the gig that this was recorded at (Albert Hall, Oct 97). I was on silly amounts of hash-cake and was again moved to tears. Ain't music marvellous?

Happiness Is A Warm Gun - The Beatles
If I could only take one record to a desert island (what a horrible thought) it would almost certainly be The White Album. It's not necessarily the best album of all time but there's something on it for every single mood and I'm not sure I can think of another album like that.

Hidden Place - Björk
I'm finding Björk a bit difficult to listen to at the moment... there's an eroticism to much of her music that's become a little grating in these days of involuntary celibacy. Which is not to say that this isn't one of the most gorgeous pieces of music you're ever likely to hear.

Beats Around The Bush - norlonto audio department soundsystem
Ummm... this is one of my own. Dubya Bush cut-ups over the top of electronic beats. "America will accept no law of morality and will have no limits to our violent ambitions"

The Diver - Stina Nordenstam
This track has a harder edge, musically speaking, than most of Stina's stuff, though lyrically it's not nearly as dark as many of her songs. "Look up, don't look down / Now's the time / Don't look down / Look up, face the sun / Breathe and climb / Don't look down / Love is hard to get / But don't give in / Not now not yet"

Thinking out loud

2005-09-27T15:23:00.000+01:00

It's possible I was abducted by aliens last night.

Well, it's one of my theories. It goes a bit like this... I was kidnapped by aliens for reasons I cannot yet fathom and whisked across the universe at impossible speeds to a planet almost identical to my own. In fact, it's so much like my old planet that I almost didn't notice anything was different. But then I checked the BBC News website. And although I'd be the first to acknowledge that our political leaders are mad as baked batshit on the planet where I'm from, none of them would propose anything quite as mad as your Charles Clarke did today.

Did he really say what I think he said?

I've decided to start taking screengrabs of BBC news items, rather than link to them. This is purely down to the BBC's policy of re-editing live stories without providing an archive of the previous versions. Twice now I've found myself citing facts reported by the BBC which then just disappeared from the article in question. This obviously makes the BBC next to useless as even a short-term reference source until they sort out this problem.

Of course there's a very serious problem with posting screen-shots of a news story. You have no way of knowing for sure whether or not I've altered the image in some way prior to posting it here. You can check it against the actual story if I provide a link, but if the whole point of my posting a screen-shot is the BBC's tendency to alter their stories on the fly (which I have no problem with) without providing a permanent archive of each published version (which I have a big problem with), then how can you possibly be sure that any discrepancy between my version and the "current version" isn't a result of the BBC's editorial policy?

Naturally this water is further muddied by the fact that I have in the past photoshopped screengrabs for comedy effect and will doubtlessly do so again. It's up to you, dear reader, to distinguish the two.

I have faith that you'll make the right choices.

Which is not something I'd have said about Dubya Bush until recently, and probably still won't, but he made a pretty intriguing announcement yesterday which I believe bears examining (that's a New York Times link by the way, which needs a login)... I'll reproduce the opening paragraphs below and you'll just have to trust me on them, OK?

With fears mounting that high energy costs will crimp economic growth, President Bush called on Americans yesterday to conserve gasoline by driving less. He also issued a directive for all federal agencies to cut their own energy use and to encourage employees to use public transportation.

"We can all pitch in," Mr. Bush said. "People just need to recognize that the storms have caused disruption," he added, and that if Americans are able to avoid going "on a trip that's not essential, that would be helpful."

Mr. Bush promised to dip further into the government's petroleum reserve, if necessary, and to continue relaxing environmental and transportation rules in an effort to get more gasoline flowing.

- President Calls for Less Driving to Conserve Gas
New York Times (September 27, 2005)

Hmmmm... even though it's couched very much in "temporary / brief time of emergency" terms, Bush's comments seem rather foreboding. For Dubya, of all presidents, to suggest that Americans should begin taking fuel conservation measures is quite startling in my view.

Haaaaang on a second... I really was abducted by aliens, wasn't I? The Dubya Bush on my planet would never say that.

In 2001, [...] Ari Fleischer, then Mr. Bush's press secretary, responded to a question about reducing American energy consumption by saying "that's a big no."

"The president believes that it's an American way of life," Mr. Fleischer said.

Can Katrina and Rita really have dealt such a savage blow to Bush's "American way of life"? I suggest people have a gander at George Monbiot's column in today's Guardian (It's better to cry wolf now than to wait until the oil has run out). To be honest, it covers a lot of the same ground as I covered on this blog and elsewhere (so my loyal regular reader can expect to feel well-informed whilst reading it) but it's written with Monbiot's usual clarity and straight-to-the-pointedness (i.e. you'll not have to deal with quite so many made-up compound words if you get the info from him) and is well worth a read.

I've been writing on the subject of peak oil for approaching eight years, and while I can't speak for others like me, I can assure you that I don't feel any great sense of vindication to finally see the issue enter popular consciousness. If anything, the gradual appearance of the phrase "peak oil" in the mainstream media has brought with it an eerie sense of dislocation. Watching people thinking the thoughts that horrified and scared me 6 years ago is unlikely to be a barrel of laughs from my perspective. And the more real the problem becomes, the less I feel like talking about it. It doesn't feel like I'm warning people against a possible future any more, so much as being the bearer of bad news.

Incidentally, my web-stats show a major spike in traffic coming through the article published on Head Heritage over the past couple of days. Has it been referenced somewhere new? I can't help but be a little interested in who chooses to cite me (either as a reference or a cautionary example).

Way back when talk on the internet consisted of Usenet newsgroups, I wrote a piece about drug law reform which took a much more libertarian philosophical stance than I might do today. The piece was then forwarded to a far right newsgroup - perfectly legitimately, I stress (crossposting, particularly without permission, is frowned upon... but it happens an awful lot and is actually one of the dynamics that made Usenet so interesting until it got drowned in spam).

But in this instance I suddenly got a barrage of hatemail from people who clearly sent nasty messages to anyone who might post a prominent article on an extremist newgroup. Interestingly they were all, without exception, profoundly apologetic when I responded and explained the situation, and all admitted to not having read my article.

I've no idea why I wandered into that particular anecdote. Please don't assume that I was making some point about giving articles on extremist rightwing hate sites more consideration than you normally would (though I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually read an article prior to hatemailing the author).

Anyways, given the possibility that western civilisation may not have long left, I'll finish by urging you to check out Serenity sooner rather than later. This film from film-and-TV-making genius Joss Whedon will probably be a bit more enjoyable to fans of his cruelly-cancelled and unfinished Firefly TV series, but I'm confident it'll still rock like a bag of bastids to those of you coming to it new. Go see this film. It'll be great.

Minister for Energy

2005-09-25T18:23:00.000+01:00

A new shadow cabinet has recently been coaxed out of the blogosphere over at Devil's Kitchen. A group of bloggers (I propose "blather" as the collective noun for bloggers)... a blather of bloggers have each been assigned a government department and asked to propose policies. I requested - and was given - the energy portfolio; at which point I immediately went on holiday and left my department rudderless; scurrying around like a headless chicken and making a nuisance of itself.

I feel confident, therefore, that I can at least claim the prize for most true-to-life performance as a government minister.

Unfortunately for the rest of the cabinet, I've returned from holiday with some rather radical policies. The likelihood of them being adopted by the PM is precisely zero, but I'm still going to use my brief appointment to the front bench as a platform from which to push for a genuinely sustainable energy infrastructure.

Proposal #1: The immediate nationalisation of the energy industry.

The government shall levy a windfall tax on all companies deemed to be part of the essential national energy infrastructure (a list of companies to be drawn up by the Department but likely to include power generation companies; oil, gas and coal exploration and production companies; national fuel distributors and retailers, etc.). The windfall tax will equal - in all cases - the physical and cash assets of that company. The government may elect, at its discretion, to also take on any debts owed by the company which the government believes are in the public interest to honour.

This programme of nationalisation will be a necessary first step towards streamlining and restructuring the energy supply infrastructure.

Proposal #2: Implementing a phased rationing of fossil fuel resources and derived products.

This policy; which will include controls over both raw resources and end products; will be tailored towards achieving specific social goals which will themselves lead towards energy resource self-sufficiency and sustainability. As these goals will include the phasing out of private car use within two years, I suspect my colleagues in the department of transport will go apeshit when they hear the details of this policy.

Proposal #3: Education, training and incentives for individuals, regions and organisations to achieve energy self-sufficieny and sustainability.

The ultimate aim of Proposal #1 is the creation of a national public energy system. In the long-term however, this national system is designed as a back-up to regional self-sufficiency. Towards this aim, the government will help co-ordinate the skills and resources (plus provide strategic infrastructure and planning) for this policy of regional and local self-sufficiency in energy.

Question Time (episode 1)

2005-09-25T14:23:00.000+01:00

British politics got back from holidays this week. And although parliament itself is still out for summer; taking advantage of the off-peak holiday deals; the politicians and pundits are back doing their thing. This was heralded by two events in particular... the Liberal Democrat Annual Party Conference and the return of BBC television's Question Time.

Of course the LibDem conference was competing for column inches with some massive news stories. A second hurricane, as powerful as the one which only a couple of weeks ago so effectively ripped apart the fabric of modern America, was bearing down on the Gulf coast. Oil prices were through the roof and Matt Simmons appeared on Channel 4 News warning that "Winter demand for crude oil may outstrip supply by 2 to 5 million barrels per day". That's a recipe for social and economic chaos. Upon which subject... in Iraq, UK Special Forces were arrested by local police and then sprung from prison by the British army. Oh, and let's not forget that a supermodel might have taken some recreational drugs.

The LibDems never stood a chance.

Which can only be a good thing from the LibDems perspective. As I'm sure anyone who noticed what happened in Blackpool would agree. The conference was initially billed as "A Celebration" of the wonderful results achieved by Charles Kennedy's LibDems at the election. 6 months ago.

Look Charles, you came third. OK? Bronze medal. Third fricking place. What's with the celebration? Seriously.... think back to school, and think about the kid who came third in the 500m inter-school backstroke. I was that kid, so I know whereof I speak. That kid does not prance around like an arse with his bronze medal, holding it aloft for all to see. That kid takes the bronze medal, hides it away, broods for a month and decides to give up competitive sports completely and smoke pot and listen to music instead.

OK. So maybe that's a bit specific.

But you get my drift. I guess the other productive option would be to get pissed off at putting in all that effort and still only coming third. You'd use that frustration and anger to get yourself focussed and examine exactly what went wrong, and you'd vow to train harder and better so that next time you'd win.

But if you're that kid and you are genuinely celebrating your bronze medal... well, it's because some part of you knows that's the best you're capable of. And either you're oblivious to the condescension of those cheering you on, or they too feel third place is worthy of celebration in British politics.

It wasn't enough that they were celebrating their poor showing at the polls (no third party in this country has any cause to celebrate until they are no longer referred to as "the third party"). But they were trying to celebrate while simultaneously having a leadership challenge! Except they weren't really. That was just a bit of high-jinks and giggles by bored journos sat in Blackpool watching a third party celebrate a small reduction in the amount by which it loses.

I'd like to be able to segue into the second of this week's political events with the line; "Unlike the LibDems Conference, however, the first in a new season of Question Time saw the return of genuinely informed political debate". But that statement would be ludicrous in principle. We live in the age of political soundbite... repressive legislation is soon to be introduced that will mean that - by law - the phrase 'informed political debate' must always have '[archaic]' in italics after it when used written English; and must be followed by a satirical "m'Lord" or "m'Lady" when spoken.

But even accepting the narrow constraints of the hour-long stream-of-soundbite format, this was as lacklustre a Question Time as I can recall.

For overseas readers: Question Time is a political TV show. A panel of guests sit before a studio audience of a couple of hundred. The panel usually comprises one member of each major party plus a couple of other guests - journalists or cultural figures (for example, one of this week's guests was a playwright and one was a hack from spiteful tabloid; The Daily Mail). The discussion is chaired by the amiable David Dimbleby and is prompted by questions from the studio audience. It's an interesting show as it provides time every week for the public to demand answers to their questions from those they have elected. Prior to the last general election, each of the three party leaders appeared before a Question Time audience. It was the closest they got to a head-to-head debate.

I was going to write a little about how the various parties responded to the questions asked of them. But they were all so unlikeable that I can't be arsed (with the exception of the playwright who wasn't unlikeable, but wasn't hugely insightful either). I couldn't help imagining a person who succeeded in smuggling a custard pie into the studio... they'd be physically paralysed, shocked into inaction, by the impossibility of having to choose between David Miliband and Theresa May. They each so perfectly represent all that is unlikeable about their respective parties.

So fuck 'em. Instead I'll answer the questions posed by the studio audience...

Q. Prior to the Iraq war, Saddam Hussein warned that the soles of the feet of his enemies would burn. Given the spectacle on Monday, is it time we pulled our troops out?

Yes it is time. Though nothing to do, specifically, with the pictures on Monday (of British servicemen on fire). That is after all what happens when you send soldiers overseas to fight wars. Some of them end up on fire. If it took Monday's pictures to make you think "haaaaang on a second... you mean people are getting burnt out there?" then can I humbly request that you seek voluntary sterilisation? The world has plenty of people already. It doesn't need your kids.

Fact is, people have been on fire plenty of times in Iraq lately. They rarely did it wearing a British uniform while appearing live on TV, but if those details are really your primary concern then you should be deeply ashamed of yourself.

People have been burning out there because of our policies for quite a while now. That's one of the many compelling reasons for the US/UK to pull out their troops. Neither the nationality nor the notoriety of the burn victim should factor into what is essentially an ethical decision.

Q. Does the panel agree with Trevor Phillips' comment that Britain is "sleepwalking" into a kind of segregation that so disfigured New Orleans?

I have no idea to be honest.

It seems unlikely to me that race-relations in Britain would develop along similar lines to America. I've lived in both places and they're very different cultures. Race exists within separate historical contexts. But as I said, I don't know enough about this subject to agree or disagree with Trevor Phillips.

Q. Does the panel think that role models should behave impeccably?

This is actually a question about the Kate Moss non-story, and I really don't want to add any more internet chatter to this topic. Except to ask, in an incredulous voice, "role model?"

Q. Is the apparent U-turn on council tax a genuine response to the need for further assessment or a cynical political move?

Couldn't care less. The whole system of government finance should be ditched and replaced. However, this should be accompanied by a programme of nationalising essential industries and resources; as well as a massive public consultation on the issue of sustainability.

So you can see why I might not be all that interested in decisions about tweaking the numbers in an existing local taxation system. "Actually Carruthers, I think that deck-chair would look far better next to the large chunk of iceberg over there"

Q. Should Charles Kennedy lead the Lib Dems into the next election?

The tories will win the next election. Labour will be defeated by a significant margin but the LibDems will still come a distant third. I suspect this outcome is guaranteed no matter who runs the third party.

See what I mean about it being a lacklustre Question Time? Add to that the overwhelming unlikeability of Miliband and May, plus the general silliness of the audience participation, and it wasn't a very good advertisement for British democracy.

Fingers crossed for next week.

Silly hurricane season

2005-09-22T16:23:00.000+01:00

Well my short break in Ireland is over, but for all manner of reasons it failed to contain nearly as much cliff-top tranquility as I'd hoped.

There's always next time.

Mind you, with the exception of a few hours of Irish talk-radio (which was excellent) I managed to completely avoid the media for the best part of a week. That alone is tranquility of a sort. And it only took the briefest of glances at the world headlines upon my return to tell me that a few hours of local talk-radio per week is a far saner media-lens through which to view the world.

... and the decision of the editors is final.

There's more writing being done about the fact that a supermodel is a bit of a cokehead, than is being done about Sony slashing it's workforce by 10,000; and about the extradition of one of the failed London bombers; and about a new study on tobacco; and about a copyright dispute with potentially massive repercussions; combined.

To repeat: A supermodel is taking cocaine.

I could easily add to the sorry clamour over this story of staggering obviousness. My tactic naturally, would be to get all meta about it. Justify my own involvement in the spectacle with claims of objectivity. Why not delve into that pop-psychoanalytical goldmine, get all riled-up about mediation and use a phrase like "the inevitability of self-destruction within a fundamentally mediated personality"? I might even get to cite Irigaray...

The use, consumption, and circulation of the sexualised bodies [of women] underwrite the organisation and the reproduction of the social order, in which they have never taken part as 'subjects'.
- Luce Irigaray
The Power of Discourse and the Subordination of the Feminine

And it's not often you get an opportunity to do that.

But while I find the whole thing eerie in scale, I find the actual details of supermodel drug-binges to be like most cokeheads... tedious and a bit crap. So onto something a tad more important

It was very strange to arrive back from a week or so of media-blackout and discover that the US Gulf Coast was about to be hit by a hurricane even more powerful than Katrina. I'm not going to bang on about global warming and the possibilities that these events may be becoming more severe as a result of human activity. But I would say this... even if we're not going to do anything about it (as Tony Blair pointed out when he said "if we put forward, as a solution to climate change, something which involves drastic cuts in growth or standards of living, it matters not how justified it is, it simply won’t be agreed to"), we're complete idiots if we don't at least take onboard the very real possibility that this is occurring and start factoring it into our planning.

As an example: New Orleans should not be rebuilt.

Imagine the psychological significance of a live televised speech by Dubya Bush announcing that as great a land as America is, even we must accept the limits of nature's bounty and help protect that which has been given into our care by God. The natural world is ever-changing. Some say this change is being wrought by human hands. Others disagree. One thing we all agree upon however is that a change is indeed underway. The resources to reclaim, rebuild and then protect New Orleans on an ongoing basis can be far better spent by constructing new housing for the inhabitants elsewhere and recompensing those who have lost their livelihoods. We can no longer guarantee levees against ever more powerful storms, so it makes little sense to expend time and resources building homes in the shadows of those levees...

Hell, the speech practically writes itself!

Why don't I think it'll be delivered though? While I was away, the news that the London bombers carried out a so-called self-styled "dry run" before they actually committed the horrific murders also broke. It's a story with all the obviousness of "Supermodel indulges in recreational drug use" and apparently worthy of almost as much coverage.

My particular fascination, however, is with "anti-terrorist police chief Peter Clarke" and his use of language. He explains that the idea of "conducting a reconnaissance" is "part of terrorist mythology". What a curious choice of words. And I can't make up my mind whether it's predominantly "curious strange" or "curious sinister". With evil ideologies and terrorist mythologies abounding, you just can't be too careful these days.