Oh yeah and has Iberian Notes finally given up?! I'm told it looks pretty quiet over there…

I'm back in work tomorrow, so I'm sure that I'll be blogging fairly regularly again before long.

That'll teach the buggers for still insisting that I owe them money (I don't).

But its composition, as well as its readership, is riddled with what might at best be termed 'dodgy' thinking. Comments on posts are generally uncensored and expose that the modern, Tory right wing has not changed, despite what Cameron would have us believe. They remain as nasty - and comtemptible - as ever. Those of you tempted to vote Tory in the next election (after all, it wouldn't make much difference, right?) - remember that Guido Fawkes is very popular not only with politically astute Conservative voters but also, apparently, with many of the party's activists.

Some comments from a thread that included a picture of Gordon Brown and a group of young boys:

"They all look like nice boys - are they aware of the turd-burgling snot-gobbler's predilections?"

"I hope Brown is paying for those rentboy's out of his own pocket.
You never know what these cunt's try to put on their expenses."

"He looks uncomfortable because he's dithering over which one to pick."

"Hey guys, we all know the filthy habits of Gay Gordo, but those are likely just ordinary innocent (so far) kids - unfair to call them rentboys just because that is what that foul perverted fucker likes."

"I wonder if the photographer got any shot's of Brown getting spit roasted.I'm sure his mate's at Liebour HQ would pay handsomely for them."

"next thing you know kids get touched up, then go missing, media blackout and files buried for 100yrs
geoffrey, how many times have i told you, naughty naughty, very naughty"

"So lads where is the nearest public lavatory?"

…and I haven't even posted the ones about Harriet Harman. Nice guys, huh? I always wonder what makes some men write such knowledgeable, angry depictions of the gay sex they claim to hate.

Oh, and the other day I saw someone referring to Labour as 'ZaNu LieBore' - possibly the worst attempt at making up a name since that whole 'Bliar' fiasco.

I'll start off by reiterating that I'm not a Catalan nationalist. I oppose nationalism in general as it doesn't really fit with any of my other beliefs and often seems to be a divisive concept. In this way, I also oppose Spanish, French and British nationalism. At the same time, I do not like the idea of a mono-cultured, mono-linguistic world where people's cultural differences are erased in the name of 'peace'. It wouldn't work and we'd lose a lot of what makes humanity so interesting.

Anyway, my theory is pretty simple. People who come from dominant, mono-cultured, mono-linguistic nation states are generally less sympathetic to the culture and 'nationality' of smaller, less dominant regions and countries.

At the same time, the most strident opponents of nationalism are nearly always from countries with very strong and safe nationalisms*. Example: John at Iberian Notes. He's an intelligent guy who sees absolutely no contradiction in slamming any and all movements which seek to promote Catalan culture, identity or autonomy… while at the same time being an extremely noisy cheerleader for American imperialism. His opposition to nationalism seems to go as far as La Franja (and takes in the Basque Country too). When looking at his own country, he seems completely oblivious of the fact that he strongly supports American nationalism. In the past, he has also expressed strong support for Israel (a highly nationalist society) but condemns Palestinian nationalism as dangerous (or 'terrorist'). And he's not alone: these are standard and accepted positions.**

Similarly, domestic opposition to Catalan nationalism is nearly always couched in the language of Spanish nationalism. There can be few arguments less logical than 'down with Catalan nationalism: one language for all Spaniards', a political movement which is being actively promoted by some Spanish politicians, El Mundo and various Spanish and ex-pat (i.e. British and American) bloggers.

Actually, it is often the ex-pats who are the most strident opponents of Catalan autonomy and culture. In my experience, people born in other areas of Spain who live and work here (often married to a Catalan), speak the language and generally support at least the status quo, and sometimes even the push for further autonomy. It has always been my German, French and British colleagues who find Catalans to be 'stupid', 'silly', 'pathetic' or 'dangerous' for insisting on speaking the language they feel most comfortable with. It is no coincidence that the British, French and German states are the world's most important historical nation-states.

In the end, what it comes down to is the perceived relative strength of one nation against another. If Catalonia were still the great nation it was for about 40 years, they might be the dominant nation-state, mocking the English for not speaking French, or those regionalist losers in Andalucia. They'd probably be just as bad as the British, the French and the Germans are now. And the British, the French and the Germans would no doubt feel the same indignation at being told they should speak another language in the shops on their own street, just to 'make things easier'.

===

*This is not to say that just because someone's English, she cannot oppose nationalism.

**So, one man's nation is another man's region.

==

In over 11 years of regularly attending pop festivals, Summercase 2008 was by far and away the worst organised and most blatantly commercial event I've ever attended.

The lineup was poor and got worse with the loss of mia and Santogold, among others. A group of low-quality English pop groups (Maximo Park, Kaiser Chiefs, Sex Pistols, The Verve…) dominated the lineup and left little room for decent local or international break-through acts.

Also, the organisers' addiction to Disneyfied 1970s acts (Sex Pistols, Blondie, The Stranglers…) made for further dull concerts as large groups of 20-somethings mumbled through the lyrics to Atomic, a song which was fist performed before any of them were conceived. Incidentally, Blondie's guitarist also managed to mess-up the guitar-part for Atomic, despite it being one of the most celebrated riffs in pop history. Give you a clue: it's not good enough to just play the notes in the right order… you need to get the rhythm right too.

The thing is that, of what I saw, the only truly great concert was by Cornelius (easily the most experimental artist playing at this MOR event). Pretty much everything else was just rubbish.

As to the general organisation of the event, we were shocked and dismayed at the rudeness and generally low level of service offered by the Summercase team. Part of this was to do with the alleged policy of festival organisers to employ staff not from Barcelona, in order to prevent the normal issue of 'free drinks for friends' happening. What this resulted in was a service team of rude and aggressive non-locals who spoke neither Catalan nor English, and who were quite clearly unhappy with their work. Added to this, the females were forced to wear very tight pink t-shirts (men were in brown), and the festival succeeded in making itself not only a gross display of consumerism but also perfectly happy with breaking Barcelona's modern conventions on language, culture and gender equality.

This year, I decided not to attend FIB because I thought the lineup didn't justify a trip down to Castelló… especially when I had a festival on my doorstep. I won't make that mistake again. And it looks like, with a huge drop in attendance, Summercase needs to sort out its act or clear off altogether.

Summercase 2008: 0

Kings Of Leon - 1 - but only just

The Stranglers - 1 - too Disnified but Golden Brown's a great song

Mogwai - 0 - scheduling fuck-up

CSS - 1 - I still love Lovefoxxx

The Raveonettes - 1

Neon Neon - 1 - the only performer to utter a word in Catalan. He's Welsh, after all.

We Are Scientists - 0

Edwyn Collins - 1 - a very enjoyable show

Ian Brown - 1

Grinderman - 0 - sorry, but the Bad Seeds are way better.

Blondie - 0 - Basically Blondie-On-Ice, this Disneyfied production was so sickly sweet that all of the local audience enjoyed it. Bad sign.

Cornelius - 1 - by far the most enjoyable concert of the evening.

Primal Scream - 0 -  we didn't stay for the full gig. Heard the Motorstorm song, though.

==

Summercase is the worst example I've ever seen of corporate pop festival management. The multiple sponsor tie-ins lack any nuance of subtlety and induce a sort of nausea on first contact.

Speaking of which, the 'facilities' are completely awful. The only food to purchase is Telepizza, beer: San Miguel (I mean, sius plau!), loos with doors that don't lock, staff who don't speak Catalan or English… in 11 years of attending pop festivals, Summercase is by far the worst.

Donald Trump, a well known and very rich man, has just sold his 5km sq. beach-front property to another very rich man for a record breaking $95 million. Trump said of the sale:

In an age of so many people getting hurt in real estate, it shows that you can still do well in real estate. I think it's a great sign for the area, a great sign for Palm Beach and all that Palm Beach represents.

So next time you start to moan about your rent and food bills going up, or the fact that you can't take a holiday this year, just remember: maybe if you worked a little harder, you'd be in possession of a $95 million mansion in Palm Beach. Think on.

(Coming next week: I will explain why banks deserve billions of dollars of government handouts but the working poor don't. And I'm reliably informed that Iberian Notes isn't frothing at the mouth about 'nationalising the banks' which always used to be his yardstick for the end of the world and the rise of the Bolshevik terror. I guess it's OK when it's done by people with whom you share what amounts to being a kind of a political philosophy).

Here's my planned viewing (highlighted in pink).

Obviously, The Stranglers/Kings Of Leon clash is irritating. And I'll have to see whether I find The Verve amazing or dull before I decide whether to check out Cornelius. And Leila's not that good.

Movistar, Walkman and Converse are all names for stages (yeah, I know…). There is also a Levis stage but it doesn't have a single act I'm interested in seeing.

Animals can be a handy cause for people seeking to justify their dislike of humans. There are always men casting around for a way to validate their sociopathic tendencies. A hundred years ago, they claimed to be outraged on behalf of the proletariat. Then, when working people found their own political representatives, the Angry Young Men took to championing colonials who were less likely to speak for themselves. Now, Nicaraguan day-labourers and black South Africans and the Vietnamese peasants have also found their own spokesmen, so the Sturm und Drang brigade have shifted to the one constituency than is guaranteed never to disown them: animals.

I mean, I know he's writing for the abominal Telegraph but does he really have to come off as such a measly, whiney, grovelling little prick of a sophist?

Friends might remember that last September, Gemma's grandmother, Maria Teresa, passed away. She was a great woman and my wife was very close to her. One of the things that happened after Maria Teresa's passing is that Gemma and her father have inherited her flat in Tarragona, a house full of memories for both of them. At the time, we did our best to tidy up the flat and throw away food, etc… but it has been many months since we visited the place.

Having left the flat for some time, we decided to visit it and start the process of putting it in order. So, on Saturday morning, we braved the AP7 motorway 100km south to the family town. Tarragona, for those who don't know it, is something of a mixed bag. The centre of the city combines lots of Roman remains with a modern Catalan town. In the old city, the local stone shines like gold in the right light, despite the fact that it's apparently being eaten away by acid rain. The Plaça de la Font is a pleasant, long square which terminates in the attractive Ajuntament (city hall) where Gemma and I married. The cathedral was built on the Roman temple of Jupiter and apparently the older parts of it date back to the time when Tarraco was the capital of Roman Spain. The outskirts of the city, however, are made up of ugly suburbs and a very large petro-chemical industry. Lots of jobs, mind.

The flat has views of both the Roman city and the Mediterranean. This last view was particularly impressive on Saturday evening as I watched the approach of a truly collossal storm, part of a system that apparently inundated much of Calatonia that evening. My observation of the meteorological events was secondary to the main work of the day: cleaning, disinfecting and fumigating the parts of the house worst affected by silverfish and, even yuckier, cockroaches. I worked on the soon-to-be-scrapped fridge/freezer first (I'm not stupid: there's little point cleaning a house if there are no cold Voll Damms at the end of the day). Then, I applied a potent insecticide to the kitchen draws, some of which played host to silverfish the size of dolphins.

We've chosen to use the flat as a summer house of sorts, at least until we work out what else to do with it. As it's only an hour and a hlaf away by train, it will be easy to get down there on a Friday afternoon. I think that Maria Teresa would be happy to see us using the house.

For those who really know me, tomorrow is the first day for years that I'll be commuting into the city for work. Our company has moved to very swanky new offices in an ugly new tower on Meridiana. My new commute to work puts an end to three years of walking ten minutes down the road. That's a pretty big change.

It's way too late. I need to get up earlier than before. Damn.