The Incorrect Use Of Soap

Impartial Politics in Belfast

2006-11-30T22:56:00.000Z

A brilliant panel on Question Time. Martin McGuiness, David Trimble, Jeffrey Donaldson, Mark Durkin, Peter Hain. All sitting round the same table. (Funny, though, that if you put them in a line-up and said "Spot The Terrorist", I bet every innocent bystander would pick out Mark Durkin. By the way, two of this panel have an alleged terrorist history - which two? You may be surprised.)
Best thing about this question time - seeing these disparate politicians sharing a stage and actually talking to each other without any posturing. (Look - sharing a table with Sinn Fein/ DUP/UUP/Tories/Labour isn't really that hard... )
Worst thing - the question "Is Russia fit to be a sovereign state?" quickly descending into a playground argument about northern ireland. An easy truth - when you can have an argument about Russia and stick to arguing about Russia, you've made it. The very second you need to say "And being a Chechnyan in Moscow kind of reminds me of being a Catholic in Belfast" or "And being a Chechnyan in Moscow kind of reminds me of being a Protestant in Belfast"you have lost the point completely.
Any road up, it continues to be fascinating, seeing David Trimble and Martin McGuiness sitting almost next to each other. Maybe between these aging men there might be a solution to this problem?

The Left, The Even Lefter, and the Wardrobe.

2006-03-15T22:29:00.000Z

Wow! Jack Dromey's toys are well and truly out of the pram. I've just watched his interview with Jermey Paxman and I think this is the first time I've seen a member of the Labour NEC lose it so publicly and so irreversibly. Unless you count Time Team, of course.
It appears that Jack Dromey was unaware of loans of large amounts of money to the party. Which would be fine if he wasn't Treasurer. Tony Blair explains that he's not actually the treasurer in law, the chair of the NEC is. Well, fine, but you'd think they might have mentioned it to him. "Oh, look, some Tory bloke's lent us a few quid. Well, a few million quid. Doesn't matter, just stick it in the biscuit tin." Dromey has been signing off the accounts, perfectly legitimately, for years but it seems that loans don't necessarily appear in them. I must remember that the next time I look at my bank statement.
Unfortunately for all concerned, Jack Dromey's wife just happens to be in the Cabinet. I can't remember off the top of my head what Harriet Harman's job is this week, but I seem to recall that she's quite important. Although, it seems, suddenly less important than she was yesterday. At her own request.
I should clarify my position here. Tony Blair is a good thing, and New Labour is a good thing (forbye the Iraq war, which still makes me angry). I've worked in great depth with the SWP over the years, but still I have no time for their literally reactionary attitudes. The SWP made me angry on a daily basis, whereas New Labour only makes me angry about once a week. At the same time I have no doubt about the SWP's sincerity and commitment. New Labour just makes me ask questions.
The only certainty I hold in all of this is that a Conservative government would be much, much worse. And I can produce evidence.
Nice wardrobe, by the way.

What have the Serbs ever done for us?

2006-03-14T21:58:00.000Z

The death of Slobodan Milosevic was a bit of a slap in the face, wasn't it? For all sorts of reasons. Depending on your point of view the late Serbian leader either met his god too late or met him (or her) too soon, before the shackles of earthly justice could be fully tightened. Either way, we in this world will never be able to hold him to account. We might have a shot at his wife and son, though, if the Serbian government gets its way and holds his funeral in Belgrade.
His trial was due to end in the next few months, which is a problem in itself. His trial should have been measured in days rather than years. I have a great deal of respect for Carla Del Ponte (nicknamed 'The Whore' by many mainstream newspapers - can you believe that?) but the complexity of this case and the interference being run by Milosevic's supporters made it a virtually impossible task. So perhaps his early death was the only just outcome.
Next up - Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic. If for no other reason than to prove that the West acted to protect Muslims in that war. We bombed Serbia extensively to protect the people of Kosova. We are actively prosecuting the perpretrators of the Srebrenica massacre, which will be made easier if we can hear the testimony of Mladic.

A Night At 'Gerry Springer - The Opera'

2006-02-07T22:28:00.000Z

Last Thursday I got out of work as early as I possibly could, ran a few red lights to get to the childminder, whipped the small boy into the car, ran a few more red lights, pushed him up the stairs into the house, deployed Shrek as he demanded ("Threk! Don-key! Cat! Now!"), gave him some food (does yoghurt count as food?), left him alone and got changed into - What? What the fuck do you wear to go to the opera? Oh, some jeans and a nice jumper. That'll do nicely.
The small boy is two-and-a-half years old, which by some co-incidence is exactly the same time since we've been out. Anywhere. Let alone the opera.
His Mum gets home just in time and just knows exactly what to get changed into. How the fuck does she do that? Must be why I married her. So she could look fantastically at home in the opera thing and I could look like some bloke in jeans and a jumper.
So we arrive at 'Gerry Springer - The Opera'. We look forward to a feast of soprano and vibratto, a smorgasbord of bass and tenor. Instead, we get "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fucking fucking fuck!!" Sung beautifully. And the odd "cunt". And Satan giving the baby-boy Jesus a hard time. Even the word "And" sung by a classically trained cast brings tears to the eyes. Not to mention the poor fuckers with the chocolate lesbian relationships.
Get home, contrast this with the complete acquittal of Nick Griffin and the partial acquittal - and complete demonisation- of Abu Hamza.
Both cunts, but only one is going to prison. Griffin, you are a lucky fucker.

Bye, Graeme!

2006-02-01T22:34:00.000Z

An extremely interesting evening, football wise. Chelsea drew, Liverpool drew, ManU and Arsenal lost. I'm beginning to suspect that Roman Abramovich has signed one of those pact-with-the-devil things; whenever Chelski don't win, nobody else does either. Big up the Russian Federation.
And also, Sol Campbell was substituted by Arsene Wenger. The Arse can dress it up how they like, but the Formerly Godlike (ie, when he played for Tottenham) Sol has been deemed surplus to requirements. That is, he was shite tonight, and West Ham weren't. And it appears that Sol, having been subbed, took the Mercedes 4x4 home before the second half started. Not cool.
Don't even get me started about Joey Barton.
I tend to think the main story of tonight is likely to be the demise of Graeme Souness. Oh, has he not gone yet?

Glad to be gay?

2006-01-29T00:39:00.000Z

I'm a sucker for phone-in radio programmes, and tonight I have been thoroughly enjoying Stephen Nolan on BBC radio Five Live. Well worth searching out on your internet/digital radio thing.
His subject this evening - how do you deal with a gay child.
One phone-in punter, a bloke of indeterminate age, said he would banish all his children if one of them turned out to be homosexual. A mother, whose son had recently come out to her after years of worry, didn't pretend to understand his sexuality but certainly did understand his fear of revealing himself.
Maybe it's a generational thing, but I find it difficult to get exercised about a person's sexuality, and perhaps the Lib Dem leadership election might back me up. Not that I have any sympathy for the Lib Dems. Oh no.
To return to the original question, how would I feel if my son told us he was gay? My answer is, I couldn't give a fuck. I'd be much more worried if he was too scared to talk to me.
And, in other news, it's a great day to be a Dundee United supporter. 3-3. Fucking fantastic. I'm proud to be an Arab!!

George - You Have Been Evicted.

2006-01-25T22:40:00.000Z

Hello, and a very belated Happy New Year.
This week, I have been mainly exercised by George Galloway.
The Yanks may remember Gorgeous George from his spat with the Un-American-Activities-Committee (I know its not really called that) a few months ago, when he defended his right to meet Saddam Hussein and describe him as 'indefatigable'. He was also quite rude to a few Senators, as I recall. We all thoroughly enjoyed that here in the UK.
The Brits will now mainly remember George for being evicted from the Big Brother House, and for his worryingly life-like cat impression. And for his infinite capacity for self-delusion.
I personally mainly remember him from Dundee in the Seventies, when he was almost alone in the UK in agreeing with the PLO, and for which he was absolutely right.
(It is true that when I recall the Big Brother thing I will mainly be getting annoyed about the English media using the phrase 'the Glaswegian George Galloway'. Its not even close to being a Glasgow accent, for heaven's sake. Bloody hell.)
Anyway, I mainly hope he will take the SWP down with him. The fact that they were taken in by him is a bit of a worry for them, and they may wish to revisit their PR company. Mostly, though, the people of Brick Lane and its surrounding constituency may well wish to review their vote at the next election.
Also it's worth noting that he's been paid out of the public purse for taking three weeks off. I'm pretty sure Tower Hamlets' teachers, councillors, bin-men, planners, nurses, doctors, would not be allowed three weeks in the Big Brother house at your expense.
Tonight I have mainly been very annoyed. Does it show?
One further thought - George now seems to think that all publicity is good publicity. It isn't.

Another Football Rant

2005-12-15T22:34:00.000Z

So Roy Keane is going to be a Celtic player. If the popular press is right, he's going to drop 70 grand a week, which makes for for very interesting sums. Was he on 110 grand a week, down to 40? Or maybe a more prosaic 90 down to 20? Either way, the poor lad is apparently worth three and a half million pounds a year less than he was. And for what? The Celtic fans hate him already for being an English has-been, and you can be sure the Rangers fan will hate the little Taig anyway. If he gets the chance, Mick McCarthy will enjoy the Celtic fans shouting "You're not even Scottish, you Irish cunt." (That's an inside joke, by the way, if you were paying attention to Ireland at the last World Cup).
I'm really looking forward to the next Old Firm game - I bet Roy Keane is going to be a lovely, calming influence. Not at all like Paul Gascoigne or Graham Roberts.
Speaking of which, I also believe it's long since time Rangers and Celtic fucked off to the English Premier League, where I imagine they'll be very succesful after a year or two. And Dundee United will then win everything in Scotland always.
Sorted.

The Quality of Mercy

2005-12-12T23:29:00.000Z

"The Governor of the State of California has been asked to grant last-minute clemency to the former LA gang leader Stanley Williams, convicted of three murders in 1979, and due to die tonight. He has decided not to do so.
Commuting the sentence would have meant that 51-year-old Williams, the author of a number of children's books and a nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize, would spend the rest of his life behind bars. Instead he will die by lethal injection in the next few hours."
Before I carry on with this, I'll make my position clear. Clearish. I oppose the death penalty without qualification. There is no sense in which it can be wrong for an individual to take life - for personal, selfish, greedy or even altruistic motives - but yet it can be right for a state, with all the alternatives available, to cold-bloodedly take life. The difference here is that the individual may or may not act in cold blood, but if the state puts someone to death it is by definition - and by the long process of law in the US - cold-blooded. When the state decides execution is appropriate it does so after many, many years. Many, many years in which there was enough time to think 'Why the fuck are we doing this then? In our name?'
This decision has been made tonight by Arnold Schwarzenegger. An Austrian who entered the US as an illegal immigrant, which is fine, then made his name beyond his wildest dreams as an actor. I didn't make this up did I? You really elected this bloke?
I refer you to Girl:

"The main rule I abide by though, is this: never fuck actors. Simple.

[...]

To get up on a stage or film set and be able to switch off the world, whilst also project realistic emotion and thought, requires skill and deftness in being artificial; an ability to convince others of sincerity is, after all, what makes an actor’s performance believable. But it is all superficial and every actor I have met carries this falsity in the interactions they have off-screen as well as on."

So, don't fuck them. And don't elect them to public office either.

It's not me, it's him.

2005-12-06T22:36:00.000Z

Things you never had to deal with before you were a parent: taking days off because the offspring is sick.
Like everyone, I've taken the odd day off sick in my working life. Everyone, that is, except a former colleague I shall only call TR and who Has Never Taken A Day Off Sick in his life. How sad - sorry, I mean fortunate - is that? He was one of those kids who got the Perfect Attendance prize at school, in an unfortunate attempt at making the rest of us feel like workshy bastards. And to draw attention from the fact that his exam results lacked a little something.
Anyway. Today I had to phone in Vicariously Sick. Sick by proxy, like that Munchausen bloke.
Graeme Jr had a serious dose of vomiting and diaorrhea (you spell it better, matey), and there was no choice but to stay at home with him. That sounds callous, the 'no choice' thing, but there's always a balance between 'can I afford to lose my job, and thus never be able to pay the mortgage again?' and 'my child is ill, this is the most important thing in the world ever'.
There's a lot of guilt associated with phoning in sick. There's also a lot of people who don't give a fuck, I guess, but I'm not considering them. Phoning in sick as a parent ("It's not me, it's my kid. He's only two but already he's a workshy bastard and I'll be in as soon as he's sorted himself out. Sometime in 2027, I imagine.") doubles the guilt dose. I might as well say "It's not me, it's him"
Anyway, my point is - not many employers are geared up for employees needing time for their children. Which is odd, considering most employers have children. Or is it? Most of my former managers either have little wifies at home or nannys on tap and don't recognise the problem.
Trying to get them to understand that my wife has the career and I'll do the stay-at-home stuff is amusing. Maybe 'amusing' isn't the precise word.
Any road up. Phoning in sick for yourself is hard enough, but phoning in sick for your kids makes you feel like a lying fucker. You may feel differently.

Bye George

2005-11-27T00:41:00.000Z

So, since my last post, George Best died. Not hugely surprising given his lifestyle, but deeply saddening nonetheless. The footage of him as a young man playing football almost brought tears to my eyes; his natural ability and the lack of cynicisim in his work is unique.
Celtic players applauding him, along with the Celtic fans - who apparently invented the whole 1-minute-applause thing - seemed deeply appropriate.
Sadly some Liverpool and Leeds fans couldn't separate their long standing tribalism from a sense of respect for a great football player. A great football player and a deeply flawed man. One of the most astonishing things about George Best was his complete lack of blame for anyone else. He knew his situation was his fault, and he never sought to blame one single other person. And not one single other person, remarkably given his life, had a bad word to say. Except the ones that sold stories to the tabloids, clearly.
Two weeks ago he was the subject of the "These Things I Know" piece in the Observer Magazine. His final comment was "I'm not afraid to die."

Last Orders Please - or not, your choice.

2005-11-24T22:23:00.000Z

In one way it's ironic that George Best should be close to death on the same day that licensing hours are finally detached from the state, but on the other hand it is long since time that the state left licensing hours to the people that enjoy it. I'm utterly unconvinced by the argument that longer licensing hours equals more drinking; trust me, I'm able to tell you that if you need a drink you can just plan ahead; buy your drink while the offies are open. It's not hard.
I'll qualify that, and quickly. In the short term, in the next few years, I'm sure that later licensing will lead to more alcohol being consumed; there will be a large number of people who are ecstatic about the toyshop being open later. Right now it seems like an early Christmas.
Over time, though, and it might take 20 or 30 years, de-regulating licensing hours is the only way forward. You simply cannot tell people when they should be allowed to drink. It's not your place. I might want to have a double Lagavulin at three'o'clock in the morning, or, if I'm being sensible I might not. It's my choice - isn't it?
Alcohol kills people, and de-regulating licensing hours in the short term may kill more people. In twenty years time, however, we will have got the hang of it. I have a feeling that my two-year-old son will look back and say "Did they really shut pubs at 11'o'clock?"
It sems to me that this is a step forward. You might disagree.

England win again. And again.

2005-11-12T23:53:00.000Z

It's been a great day for English sport. The rugby team won, the football team won, and the cricket team looks like being in a good winning position. Cricket, of course, is supposed to last for 5 days, so it's hard to tell at the moment.
On the other hand, the Scottish football team has failed to beat a nation that seems to have never even heard of the game of football.
It seems like a good day to consider the question "Why don't you support England?" Again. The simple answer is - I'm not English. Being English is as strange to me as being Jordanian. I just don't get it. True, I live in England. True, I love living in England. But why do you expect me to be English? I'm not. Simple as.
There is a following assumption that I therefore hate the England team. I don't. I wish English fans would recognise that David Beckham is a truly world class football player, and the best you've seen for many years. I deeply wish he was Scottish. Real Madrid are not a trivial team. Wayne Rooney may be better given time, but right now David Beckham is your star player.
Given the fact that I'm Scottish I have an attenuated interest in English sport. Simply put, England does not come first in my mind, sporting or otherwise. Scotland does. I'm pretty sure the Welsh, the Cornish and the Northern Irish feel the same.
The main reason why I'm not ecstatic about England beating Argentina is because Scotland didn't beat the USA. It is simply the case that I'm Scottish, and whatever occurs with the English is less relevant to me. Why should that not be reasonable?

Good Night Ted

2005-11-10T22:57:00.000Z

The death of Ted Wragg is one of those things that just pulls you up short and makes you think about everything you do. Ted Wragg, like John Peel, was just one of those people you aspire to be. He had an understanding of the importance of education that put to shame our society's general contempt for teachers. He understood that teachers should be seen as part of the solution, not part of the problem, and that successive governments have used teachers as whipping boys when they should have been working with them to give children the education they deserve.
The personal memories of Ted Wragg on the BBC website are testament to his influence.
He will be sadly missed.

90 days bad, 28 days good.

2005-11-09T23:05:00.000Z

Well, New Labour lost a Commons vote, for the first time ever. Why they needed to force this vote I do not understand. I do understand that public opinion is in favour of the 90 day thing, and that this vote will enhance Tony Blair's public standing at the expense of parliament. My personal view is that 90 days of detention without charge represents a failure of evidence gathering. But then again I enjoy watching Spooks and I recognise that nothing is that simple. There are indeed very scary people out there, intent on doing bad things to us and ours. Nonetheless, it seems like a fundamental failure if the security services have to detain anyone for 90 days on spec. These are our Security Services we're talking about here - if it becomes impossible to detain a bad person in custody we have a myriad of ways to keep watch. We pay taxes so that people can sit in the back of white vans with video cameras keeping watch on other people who might threaten us. Let them get on with it.
I can't get my head round the vituperousness in this issue; it seems to me it's not that difficult. It appears that it's all about what to do when there isn't actually enough evidence to charge a suspected terrorist with an actual crime. What to do? Hold him for 90 days just in case? You can certainly do that, but you lose the public argument.

It's all gone a bit pear-shaped.

2005-11-07T22:22:00.000Z

Is it just me or has politics become a bit fractured of late?I'm trying to imagine a world in which a Labour government is arguing for detention without trial to be extended to 90 days and the Tories are saying "nae chance, pal, we'll give you 28, but that's fucking it". Well, maybe not in those precise words.
It is at the very least a bit odd. Labour are insisting that it is necessary to hold suspects in custody for the equivalent of a 6-month prison sentence without even so much as saying "I arrest you in the name of the law." They propose a 7-day cyclical judicial review. Given that we don't have an adversarial judicial system, I imagine that would go something like:
Judge: "Well, my dear chap, why are you holding this rather tanned looking bloke in custody?"
Inspector Knacker: "Caught him bang to rights, Your Honour. Bit short on the old evidence though - might take a few months to charge the fucker with anything."
Judge: "Carry on, old boy."
I know it seems like an unreconstructed old lefty point of view, but left to their own devices our security services might accidentally manage to detain the wrong person - could you imagine what would would happen if they shot dead an innocent, rather tanned, and unseasonably dressed young Brazilian bloke ("I might seem overdressed to you, mate, but London's fucking freezing when you come from Rio de Janeiro. And those wires coming out of my jeans are my fucking IPod, you twat. Ouch.")? Doesn't bear thinking about. I bet Santa Claus is nervous, what with global warming, the furry hood, and the rucksack and all.
The bottom line: Labour, of all people, want to increase the use of detention without charge; the Tories, of all people, oppose this. It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world.

Eastenders - An Everyday Tale Of Ordinary Folk

2005-11-03T23:51:00.000Z

Wasn't Eastenders great fun tonight? Phil and Grant running through their repertoire of menacing arm-folding and eyebrow-raising, Dennis behaving like a little boy in a playground, and Johnny Allen (I've heard it said that Billy Murray is a real life gangster, but surely this can't be true? Wouldn't he act better?) threatening to kill anyone who moves.
Much more interesting, though, is the news that Ross Kemp and Steve McFadden have apparently, and separately, both been victims of domestic violence today. This seems like too much of a coincidence to be true. Phil and Grant beaten up by women? Police say both incidents did occur but are not in any way related. Somehow I imagine that every newspaper tomorrow, except possibly The Sun, will manage to find a relationship. I mean, it's not often that the editor of a national newspaper gets arrested. For beating up her husband. Shortly after running a campaign condemning domestic violence.
Perhaps Rebekah will learn something about being on the wrong end of the tabloid press. Or perhaps not. At the very least some of our newspapers might recognise that domestic violence is an everyday brutal reality and not some working class pursuit to be used for political point-scoring.
Today's newspapers also condemned police reaction times to 999 calls. I wonder if The Sun will be following that up tomorrow....

God, Is It November Already?

2005-11-02T22:13:00.000Z

Well. Hello again blogworld. As my regular reader will have noticed, I've been rather quiet for a while. What with one thing and another meatspace has been taking precedence lately (meatspace?? bloody hell, did I really say that? I really must get out more...) and so my increasingly random wibbling (mmm.. has Dr Rob copyrighted the word 'wibbling', do you think?) has been sadly neglected. Or, perhaps, not so sadly depending on your viewpoint. Thanks to those of you who commented on a couple of posts I thought better of in the end, especially sheweevil. It's an interesting debating point, I think, whether retracting posts is 'playing the game' or not; should a blog be a warts and all experience for the reader? If I post complete shite, as I am wont to do, either through being completely bolloxed or because I'm feeling sorry for myself, is it somehow cheating to change my mind later? If I'd published on paper I'd have no such luxury. I have a feeling it's not really in the spirit of blogging to take posts down. Discuss.
Anyway - I'm not putting them back up, you prurient bastards!

Today is John Peel Day

2005-10-13T20:25:00.000Z

Today is John Peel Day, a Britain-wide tribute to the man himself. I assume the BBC have chosen the 13th of October as John Peel Day because he died last year on the, erm, 25th of October. Go figure, as those nice Americans are wont to say.
If you don't know who John Peel was, then you might be excused from reading any further. If, though, you know who the White Stripes are, or Joy Division, or Nirvana, or Supergrass, or Bloc Party, or Blur, or Laura Cantrell, or Misty in Roots, or Pulp, or the Undertones, or Napalm Death, or Johnny Cash, or Nick Cave, or the Faces, or Rod Stewart; Tom Waits, Half-Man Half-Biscuit, the Wedding Present, Libertines, Shane McGowan, Ivor Cutler - especially Ivor Cutler; the Who, Led Zeppelin, (also Genesis, ELP, the Pink Floyd, Simple Minds - let's face it, he wasn't perfect) the Jam, Dead Kennedys, Spizz Oil, Spizz Energi and Athletico Spizz 80, the Clash, the Pistols, Sham 69, the Not-Sensibles, Magazine, Buzzcocks, Aztec Camera, Orange Juice, REM, Ash, Mogwai, Manic Street Preachers, Ahnrefn, countless Welsh language bands, Pixies, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Visitors (a personal favourite of mine), Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Arab Strap, Festive Fifties, John on Top of The Pops, the BBC Glastonbury coverage, Hawkwind (who are still cool, people), Television, Young Marble Giants, Belgian Techno, Einsturzende Neubaten, Die Toten Hosen, the Cure, Super Furry Animals, 60ft Dolls, the Cramps, the Jesus and Mary Chain, Sugarcubes and every other good Icelandic band, Public Image Ltd when no-one else recognised that John Lydon was much more than Malcolm McLaren's public image, Wah!, Echo & the Bunnymen and the Teardrop Explodes, Orchestral Manoeuvres In the Dark, the Specials, Madness, the Beat, New York Dolls, the Sensational Alex Harvey band, Lonnie Donegan, Bauhaus, the Sisters of Mercy, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Dinosaur Jr, Theatre of Hate - even New Model Army, astonishingly. I rather like NMA myself. A lot of clogs and sincerity. Like Terrorvision in that sense.
Clearly, I could go on. And on. I haven't even touched a fraction of the bands that John Peel loved and brought to the nation's airwaves.
There was a question earlier, on Radio1 - has John Peel affected your record collection? Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. He defined it. He played me stuff I never knew existed, which I would then go out and buy.
Basically, his enthusiasm was infectious. He loved new stuff, and he made me search it out, although he was always braver than me at making his own mind up.

I love these quotes:

"John Peel's death was mourned by teenagers, their parents and even their grandparents."

"Peel often spoke wryly of his eventual death. He once said: "I've always imagined I'd die by driving into the back of a truck while trying to read the name on a cassette, and people would say, 'he would have wanted to go that way.' Well, I want them to know that I wouldn't.""

Let's bomb Iran!

2005-10-05T21:06:00.000Z

As yet another suicide bomber blows up his car in Iraq, I'd like to congratulate the UK and the US for achieving something unique. Not only have they managed to re-create the Vietnam war, they've also managed to re-create the Northern Irish war amongst muslims. To bring about a situation in which two groups from the same religion hate each other, and hate us equally, is surely an achievement of some note. Well done, everyone. Especially when you consider that one of our war aims was to free the Shia from Sunni hegemony. After we'd dealt with the clear and current threat of the weapons of mass destruction, obviously.
To pretend that this has nothing to do with the London Tube bombings is priceless.
Iraq seems to be descending into a sectarian civil war that we cannot fully understand. Clearly the Sunni and the Shia have always had issues, but they are not issues that we have ever been aware of or engaged in. Except maybe, some time ago, as colonial powers.
As I remember it, we supported Iraq during the Iran/Iraq war; we were scared of the new Iran, and we sent Iraq lots of lovely weapons. And so we consider Iran to belong to the axis of evil along with North Korea and Zimbabwe- and, in George W's mind, Russia.
Apparently, we learn today, Iran is 'directly' responsible for the deaths of every British soldier killed in this conflict. So what are we going to do? Invade?

A Heretical View of Taxation

2005-10-04T21:48:00.000Z

One interesting quote from today, from a delegate at the Tory party conference (sorry, I mean representative):
"The best leader of the Conservative party would be Sir Alex Ferguson. I know he's a socialist, but he's the man we need."
It's an extraordinary aspiration. This ordinary Tory delegate, presumably elected by his local Conservative association - and voted the necessary funds to attend conference if he needed them - believes that a socialist is the best leader of the Tory Party. A socialist who loves racehorses, who by all accounts loves his champagne, who earns a vast amount of money. Who pays tax on that money, without complaint.
I listened to Kenneth Clarke's speech today, for the first time in my life entertaining the possibility of voting for such a man. But he doesn't understand fundamental stuff. He does understand that the war in Iraq was a monumental fuck-up, for which I give him many points. He doesn't, though, understand that taxation policy is not all about the businessman. His emphasis on entrepreneurs creating wealth tells only a part of the story. It is good to have entrepreneurs, but it also worth recognising how little they can value the people who work for them. For every useful entrepreneur there is another one with a case-load of redundancies, screwed-up families, people without money or some promise of money, to deal with.
Freedom for business from legislation means a freedom for businessmen to treat ordinary workers in any way they please. People who just want to go to work, do a good job for eight hours, earn a reasonable wage, go home to spend time with their children, are treated like losers who don't value the company or its shareholders. Businessmen need to recognise that the aims of the business are not necessarily the aims of the employees. In almost every case the employee wants to do a good job and be recognised for it. I'm not convinced there are many employers who are prepared to give that recognition.

2005-10-03T21:57:00.000Z

Hello World. And what a scary world you are.
I've been struck by two things today.
Gordon Mclean has been pondering the nature of blogging - what kind of writers do this and should they make money from writing on the web?
Also, Turkey is about to be graciously allowed to have preliminary talks about preliminary talks about thinking about perhaps one day joining the European Union. If they behave themselves in a nice Muslim way and don't piss off the white christian Austrians, that is.
And the Tories are trying to choose a leader. Again. Bless.
That's three things.
As Dr Rob astutely observed, "plus I have, like zillions of us bloggers re-incarneted My Novel". As I have, in my mind anyway. The point being, I think, that we write for fun - and not for profit necessarily - but we are all frustrated would-like-to-be-paid writers. Discuss.
To address the other two things - we need Turkey and Turkey needs us.
And it won't matter who wins the Tory leadership. It's a pointless contest in an irrelevant party.

More stuff in praise of the NHS

2005-09-24T21:53:00.000Z

Just in case anyone was wondering, graeme jr's op went as well as slicing a boy open could ever go. They found his missing testicle and relocated it as nature would have intended had it not been looking the wrong way in the first place.
I've personally never had a bad experience with the NHS. And as such, I don't understand the argument that says 'this country is going to the dogs - just look at how shit the NHS is'. There are of course people who have bad stories to tell. The NHS is run by humans and humans will fuck up. But to suggest that the NHS is wrong to the core makes me think that there are people who don't recognise when they're well looked after. Very well looked after.
Put simply, and obviously anecdotally, there is nothing I could fault about the care graeme jr and me & his mum received when he had a minor op the other day. If operating on a two-year old can ever be minor....
We got ourseleves to the hospital about 7.35am, remembering that parking was an issue. And was bloody expensive too (mmm... might be a crack in my argument).
We were signed in and sent to a waiting room with some toys, and many videos, where all the other kids due for various slicings arrived over the next hour. By half-past-eight it was like a war zone.
Before 9, the nurses, anaesthetists and surgeons were calling kids and parents through for pre-processing.
This took a couple of hours, during which mrs graeme and I grabbed separate breakfasts at the hospital caff. Which, as it turned out, was unnecessary. graeme jr, of course, was not allowed to eat. Instead, he found the after-care room, which had better toys, and played there.
To cut a long story short, I held him in the operating room while the anaesthetic took hold and his little eyes rolled back into his head. The support staff played with him, distracted him and were generally fantastic. Then I left him to the bloke with the knife.
So they did stuff, they looked after him, and they called us in to see him when he came round. We sat with him for a few hours, with staff bringing us cups of tea and sandwiches, and, when the medical staff were absolutely satisfied he was well, and when the poor little bugger could stand up - bearing in mind they'd just cut one of his balls in half - we were told we could take him home.
Every member of staff, from the Surgeon-Commander (this is Plymouth; you couldn't avoid the navy if you wanted to) through to the Eastern European girl who brought us tea & sandwiches - and in between times mopped the floor - were caring above and beyond the call of duty.
Whenever I hear bad stuff about the NHS I think about the 15 days graeme jr and mrs graeme spent in Transitional Care in Derriford Hopital, Plymouth, two years ago, due to graeme jr having decided to come 6 weeks early. I won't have a bad word said against the NHS.
You may have different stories....

Goodbye To Jane

2005-09-20T21:01:00.000Z

In other news, it appears that the Happy Mondays are to be amongst us once again. My personal favourite track is 'Wrote For Luck', but 'Step On' still sends shivers down the spine. Frankly, they make Oasis look like the bunch of has-been beatles they always aspired to be.
And as if that wasn't enough, Jane Gazzo is playing something I recognize as a very old Birthday Party, er, 'tune'. Looking at her playlist on the BBC6 website I'm guessing that this means Jane is not working out her notice quietly. Apparently we should have expected 'Jackie Wilson Says' by Van Morrison.
Unless I'm reading the playlist wrong, which is entirely possible.
I'll miss Jane a great deal. Can't believe they haven't renewed her contract, if that is indeed the case. There are just some radio DJs who really seem to get off on what they do, and Jane Gazzo is one of them. There's a massive difference between being a 'presenter' and a lover of music.
I'll miss Jane Gazzo. If anyone has any idea where she might be working next I'd love to know. If it's Australia, surely there must be some way to listen on the web?
Also, she seems to be doing a Scottish session thing tonight, which is always good. Not sure about the Paul McCartney stuff, though.
Also, The Breeders. 1993. I could discourse in some detail about the Breeders, the Amps, Pixies, Sonic Youth, L7, the Cramps.. for some reason I want to include the Gun Club even though they had no Kims as far as I'm aware.
Orange Juice and Aztec Camera. I promoted both of those when I was social sec at Dundee University in 80/81. Roddy Frame was cruelly overlooked and I hope Edwyn Collins is getting better.
But mainly I want to praise Jane Gazzo for her genuine love of the phone-in punters, and her love of Nick Cave. And her constant love of new bands.
I'm not Australian, but if I was I'd be proud of Nick Cave, alone, with the Bad Seeds, and with the Birthday Party. Also The Saints.

Mack - The Knife. Please.

2005-09-20T20:23:00.000Z

graeme jr is going into hospital to have an operation tomorrow morning. Some bloke (and in this case, it is a bloke) is going to take a very sharp knife - or be handed a very sharp knife by some minion earning minimum wage - and slice him open. Cut through his skin and fiddle about with the stuff underneath. Some bloke I've never even met, for heaven's sake.
It is, I'm repeatedly told, a 'routine operation'. Yeah, for the surgeon it is. I'm sure he's done loads of them. Actually, he'd better have done loads of them. Don't want some Modern Apprentice delving into my boy's innards. Or, worse, a kid on work experience.
At times like this all the scare stories you've ever read about the NHS come flailing around. It's easy, if you read the tabloids, to assume that the entire NHS is all shit - and, if you're very lucky, everything might just go as planned and you'll be taking your two-year-old home safe and well at 1400 hours.

Are you sure you don't want to go private, mr graeme?

In fact, about 99.9% of operations go as planned. The sheer volume of NHS work means that the unsatisfactory 0.1% is actually a significant number of people. A further small percentage of whom seem quite happy to sell their stories to the tabloids. Hence the scare stories. And what would the Daily Mail and Daily Express do without those?
In the very rare event that graeme jr's op goes pear-shaped tomorrow I will mainly not be suing anyone. But I have absolute confidence that it will be good.

Either way - some bloke I don't know will be cutting him open!!

How scary is that?

We're All Going To The Zoo, Yesterday

2005-09-19T21:35:00.000Z

On Saturday we went to Paignton Zoo for the day, as an amusingly ironic way to spend a day in the Theme Park. (As a good friend of mine once said, England stops at Bristol. The rest of us live in a Theme Park.) We were having a lovely time, mingling with the lemurs and the tamarinds and the brummies, when some zoo staff came running out of the bison enclosure shouting 'An Animal Has Escaped! Run For Your Lives!!'
Well, their exact words were: 'An Animal Has Escaped! Please gather in the Restaurant. Or the Play Area. Up to you, really. It's not safe here.'
I turned to look behind, instantly aware that I was the Man of the family, and I had a two-year-old son to protect. Also his Mum, and I was aware that if I had to sacrifice her I'd hate myself for ever. Hoping it wouldn't come to that. Hoping I'd never have to live with the guilt of feeding my wife to a wild animal to protect our son. For heaven's sake, people, a boy needs his dad.
As we turned to flee, something told me to look back, to get the measure of our foe. As I turned a woman, pushchair in hand, screamed, 'Oh my God, it's coming, it's here!!!!'
I had turned at the same time, and god help us, I saw what she saw. The animal was full of primal hatred, its eyes blazing, its mouth inflamed, and it was rushing toward us. And our babies.
I turned back to my wife and child and said 'It's a pig. About so high.' I indicated the grass. 'I'm not sure exactly how vicious Peccaries are. Or indeed what they are. Pigs, though.'
It turned away from us and ran into the elephant enclosure, which I thought wasn't its best choice.
Anyway, having corrralled us in the restaurant, they told us they were going to deploy the sedative darts. We waited for about an hour, then were told we could happily disperse. Wonder how they deal with an escaped lion?

I have seriously mixed feelings about zoos. I 'm not convinced that caging animals is 'humanitarian' in any sense. I especially hate aviaries, there is no sense in which it can be right to cage birds. Even in Paignton, one of the best zoos that there is, the Hornbills still have to occupy inadequate, seemingly tiny, cages.
The worst zoo I ever saw was in Bursa, in Turkey, and it sickened me, the pathetic pacing of the elephants, the lethargy of the lions.
On the other hand, the Kruger National Park, and Malolotja in Swaziland, and countless others we have no awareness of, seem to be dedicated to keeping animals the way they should be kept.
End of lesson. Insert humorous comment here.

2005-09-17T23:12:00.000Z

Have you ever heard of Killing Joke? They were one of my favourite bands about 20 years ago. I idolised Jaz Colman, the singer, and I've just come across an interesting and very recent interview; it's there in their homepage.
Jaz is sitting in a clearly expensive hotel, smoking a very large cigar, talking about history
How is it that bands you barely remember selling any records are still going strong?

That Was The Week That Was

2005-09-13T21:20:00.000Z

Quite a week. A team called 'Eng-er-land' seem to have beaten a team called 'Strayl-ya' to win some poor bastard's ashes at a game called 'Crick-et'. Luckily, the British National News has hardly mentioned the little victory that one-quarter of this artificial construct of 'nations' has achieved.

Ouch. Unnecessarily churlish. I apologise. I watched the presentation on Channel 4 yesterday and I confess my eyes welled up. I felt proud for Michael Vaughan, more so for Flintoff and Pietersen (although I'm wondering just how English he might be), and even more so for Shane Warne. And I really enjoyed the very pissed interview Flintoff gave this morning to Jonathan Agnew. How much is he going to regret being pissed through the best day of his cricketing career? As I've said before, my problem is not with the team or the players, it's with the English media. Fill in your own personal organ of hatred here...

Even more remarkable than England beating Australia at cricket (and, yes, I do know what the Ashes really are), 'Loyalists' are fighting with police in Belfast. Another shift in perception. By the sounds of the British National News I'm going to have to reassess my view of the Orange Order and rank them right up there with the Protestant paramilitaries. How can this have happened? Take it along with the internal feuding in the more established prod paras and the republicans must be having a rare old time. Presenting themselves to the UK government as the Voice of Reason when the political alternative is the Reverend Dr Ian Paisley. Of course the Ra look reasonable, for fuck's sake.
As I write, the government has announced that the UVF has broken the terms of it's ceasefire. No shit. And the UDA has denounced violence.
Oh how we laughed.
I recommend you have a look at Everything Ulster for a much more informed perspective.

And finally, more fuel protests. There are many things you can take New Labour to task for, but the international rise in the price of petroleum is not one of them.
Not happy with paying tax and getting stuff in return? Don't see what your tax is paying for? Have a look at the road beneath your wheels, then, and remember that should you need to journey from Penzance to Aberdeen tomorrow you'll be able to do so. Perhaps you'd prefer to drive from Mogadishu to Tangiers?
Or maybe you're not happy with paying tax at all? Maybe Government is too big? Well, buy your own fucking aircraft carrier then and sort out your own defense strategy.
Good luck with that.

Northern Ireland 1 England 0

2005-09-07T22:08:00.000Z

Well, what a night. Scotland won, Wales lost. But more importantly, Norn Irn beat England. How fantastic is that?
I am ecstatic for Lawrie Sanchez and his team. I watched the second half and I can tell you that they more than deserved to win. Two-nil would not have been surprising. Top job, boys, and you well deserve the history you've just created.
I thought the boy Beckham was impressive, though. Sadly for England, not on the field. After the game Garth Crooks (I can remember him when he played for the god-like Tottenham Hotspur) tried very hard to annoy him, but he spoke well in abject defeat, and didn't in any sense belittle the Norn Irn team. He was dignified, appropriately hurt, and also loyal to the other players and the manager. In no sense did he say "it's not my fault, blame Lampard. Or Rooney". He took it on the chin and I respect him for it.
I am, however, looking forward to reminding the English that Scotland won. And we have a decent keeper. And we just might still qualify.
Are you ready to play us, then?

The End of Summer

2005-09-06T21:10:00.000Z

Summer has a way of shrinking the brain. Or at least mine, anyway. I haven't read a newspaper since the end of July (to qualify, I'm rarely very far from Radio 5 Live, so I continue to be saturated with rolling news), and I've barely kept up with the football results. I have, of course, kept up with Dundee United's results, but somehow those seem to make summer denial even more urgent.
The only football matches I've watched on TV were Wales v England and Scotland v Italy.
Wales v England was a disappointing result, but the National Anthems were hilarious. Sung by a Welsh opera singer (I'm sorry, I have no idea which one; wasn't Charlotte Curch, though - I know this because it was definitely a bloke). The English anthem went:
"God save our gracious Queen blah blah blah mumble Queen." Took about 10 seconds.
Then he filled his lungs, had a long slow look round, and belted out "Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau", for at least 15 minutes. I had goosepimples (I'm Scottish, for heaven's sake), my wife had goosepimples (she's Welsh, she's allowed), my son was ordered to have goosepimples as he pootled amongst his toys, totally unaware of the significance of the "Born to Play For Wales" t-shirt his mother had dressed him in that morning.
And then the English won. By one cruelly deflected goal. Hey ho.
Scotland led Italy 1-0 for about five years before some Italian nonentity - I dunno, Totti, Vieri, someone like that, some rubbish Italian striker anyway, managed to actually get the spherical thing between the two vertical things. The Scots were aces, though, in their way - and the biggest result is that we have an excellent young goalkeeper. And we can make jokes about English goalkeepers at last - if you consider 'Calamity James' to be a joke. Which, after all the shit Scottish goalkeepers have endured from the English over the years, we do. And I actually like David James.
But the biggest summer thing has been the Ashes. A fantastic tournament with only one problem - the English, bizarrely, seem to be winning games of cricket against Australia. The traditional 'English Batting Collapse' has been absent from our back pages. Like global warming, this seems to go against the natural order of things. I look forward to Shane Warne squirreling the Ashes away in his trousers at the end of this week, shouting "You whinging Poms are all.. uh.. whinging Poms. So there."
But much more than all of that, it was graeme junior's second birthday today. Unfortunately, his Mum and Dad went back to work yesterday, so we couldn't spend the whole day with him. Fortunately, he spent all day having a picnic with his little friends and his very favourite childminder. Well, his only childminder. In case you're feeling his birthday needs have been neglected, he had a very lovely party with another two-year-old last Friday, with chocolate cake and everything. And we bought him lots of presents. And he thoroughly enjoyed tearing most of them to bits before bedtime.
Sadly, his main present from us - delivered last, and delivered with great ceremony ("Look, son, this is Mummy and Daddy's present!!!")- obscured his view of CBeebies, so he chucked it off the sofa and stuck his fingers back in his mouth.
It's not easy being a parent....

The Joy of Toddlers.

2005-09-02T22:26:00.000Z

It's graeme junior's second birthday on Tuesday, following hot on the heels of my 44th birthday last week. I really wonder about the age difference and how it will affect him when he's older. But then, we would really like to add another little one to the family.
I often get asked when I meet new people if I have a previous family. Actually, it's not so much a question as an assumption that I have older kids, a divorced wife and a very large CSA bill. Fair enough, it's hardly unusual. But wrong. I got married at 41 - for the first time, in case you were wondering - and had my first kid at the age of 42. And I love it. And him, obviously. I couldn't have done it when I was younger. Even at 32 I was probably too immature to deal with the inherent selflessness of having a dependant life.
I just love being a dad, I love his every move and his every, increasing, word. And, for a very few years only, I would love to do it again.
Anyway, my point in this post is - how does it feel to have a parent 40 years older than you? If anyone has experienced that I'd love to know. Although, in fact, I don't feel a day over 23.
I am so going to take this post down tomorrow.....

Geek Stuff

2005-09-01T23:28:00.000Z

I've spent a large chunk of the last few days trying to get Visual Basic Express 2005 to talk to SQL Server Express 2005, without any great success. Not much success with C# either, although I love the language. The thing is, no matter your level of expertise with your known version of this stuff, the newest generations seem designed to make you feel stupid. Or maybe it's just me, but how hard should it be to connect to a SQL Server instance that you were forced to install with the main download?
Perhaps I'm being unfair. This is free software after all. Microsoft, free software. Go figure. But I'm grateful nonetheless.
I kind of liked VB6, and I still like VBA. You can do extraordinary things with Office and VBA, especially with Excel. I still think Excel is the best shrink-wrapped software ever written.
Anyway. This blog will return to normal service eventually.

Scotland is a Northern European country.

2005-08-29T00:41:00.000Z

Following a long discussion with some friends, I've come over all Scottish this evening.
Scotland, it seems to me, has much more in common with Lithuania and Estonia than it does with England. Small nations in Europe with really top capital cities. Edinburgh, Tallinn and Vilnius bring every Grimm's fairy tale you've ever read to life.
But, on the other hand, there is no city in the world that is in the same league as London.
Go figure. And discuss.

I Love The Rezillos!

2005-08-18T23:08:00.000Z

Oh my god, Jane Gazow is now interviewing Eugene Reynolds. I feel simultaneously very old and very excited. The Rezillos have been ignored for several decades, and now they're getting back together.
Now she's playing 'I Love My Baby 'Cos She Does Good Sculptures, Yeah.'
Wookit.
For some reason she's not playing 'Someone's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonight.'
There is nothing in the world like drunken nostalgia. You should try it.

BBC 6 Music is still the best thing on the planet.

2005-08-18T23:00:00.000Z

Pixies. Debaser. How much better can it get?
Repeat after me - "Chien Andalucia"
And more Rezillos to come.........

More Excuses

2005-08-18T22:22:00.000Z

I suspect you realised that yesterday's post was the result of happy, home-loving drunkenness. I can think of no other excuse for blogging about CBeebies. Without mentioning Little Robots. Or the Bath Thingies. (How much do you reckon people like Neil Morrissey, Alan Titchmarsh, John Gordon Sinclair, that bloke out of Drop The Dead Donkey and Ballykissangel - and of course Richard Briers - get paid for doing that stuff?)
We're off to Wales this weekend, then London, so I may not be blogging much until the end of next week. Which would actually be quite frequent for me.
Further proof that radio 6 is aces - I'm currently listening to the Rezillos 'Top Of The Pops', a truly excellent pop song. Preceded by a phone interview with the godlike Jo Callis.Wonder what Fay Fife is doing these days? Jane Gazow is playing an entire Rezillos session from 1977 - as you might expect, recorded for the show of the also godlike John Peel.
I'm looking forward to going back to London. I get to drive along the North Circ again. Not very exciting, I know, but when you've lived in Devon for 6 years it's kind of terrifiying. In a good way.
Obviously, this is another drunken blog. Maybe I should get out less.

God, I Love BBC Radio 6

2005-08-17T23:01:00.000Z

Holidays are wonderful, but coming home is wonderful too. Mallorca has so much to write about. But, though, coming home to your own house, your own living room, your own bedroom, watching the toddler as he remembers the toys he left two weeks ago, and then remembering that BBC 6 is the best radio station on the planet. So much to enjoy.
We've spent the last two weeks in Spain surrounded by CBeebies. Our two-year-old loves it. From 5 in the morning till it shuts at about 6pm. In between times, we went to the beach. Or took a long walk. But we always ended up with CBeebies. We know all the songs, we are intimately familiar with Blue Cow. And Big Cook, Little Cook. Tikkabilla, Teletubbies, StoryMakers. And the CBeebies song. Everything is done the CBeebies Way. The only question is - What's the story in Balamory?
But the best thing about being home is Radio 6. I'm listening to a Joe Strummer tribute on Jane Gazow's programme, and I'm thinking how exceptional this is. And then this is followed by a track that includes Bobby Gillespie. Then the Stereophonics. Radio 6 is cool as....

The Thorny Subject of Grammar Schools

2005-07-28T11:04:00.000Z

I've been rather erratic at posting on the old blog recently, and in today's post I was going to explain why. But, instead, my thoughts have been hijacked by another matter - the title might be a clue. Anyway, before I get into that I'll give a brief summary of what the post was going to be about.

Tomorrow is my last day at The Place Of Gainful Employment. A few months ago I was redundified and now the day of reckoning is nigh. When I switch off my computers tomorrow it will be for the very last time. I had intended on treating you to a rant about the Dot Com bubble, the consequences for ordinary working people (the site I work at has gone from 5000 punters in the year 2000 to about 900, and after tomorrow will be down to about 400 - and in a few months time the whole shebang will be transferred to Shenzhen, China). I've spent quite a bit of my last few months training Chinese engineers and providing them with data analysis solutions to enable the factory there to get up and running. C'est la vie, shit happens, shit moves on. I was also going to mention in passing just how much I would like to see Bernie Ebbers, Kenny Lay and their ilk rot in prison for the rest of their naturals. Perhaps another time, though, eh?

Now, I'm not trawling for sympathy here. I have another career up my sleeve, and I had another job lined up within a few days of being redundified. With the added bonus of 5 weeks off, 2 weeks of which will be on a beach in Spain, and a nice redundancy cheque, thankyou very much. So no need to feel sorry for me; reserve your feelings for the thousands of workers with no transferable skills who are being laid off, and face a deeply uncertain future.

Anyway, I'm not all that keen on blogging about what I do for a living, and I hadn't intended to say anything about my new job. However, and I think the reasons will become clear, I'm going to. Although I might take the post down later.

As you may know, there's quite a debate going in the UK at the moment about grammar schools. I was going to simply post a comment about this post at the excellent Everything Ulster, but as I'm at work I can't post comments. I can, however, email posts to my own blog, so here we are.

The first thing I want to say is that I'm not a great fan of the Grammar School system. Now, before you all go apoplectic, I'll explain why.

The part of England I live in still has grammar schools in it's cities. It's undoubtedly true that these schools do a great job of giving the most able kids a fantastic, free, education. As you'd expect, the grammar schools are the best performers league-table wise in the county, and among the best in the country as a whole. However, and this is where I disagree with beano, it is not the case that comprehensives have failed everybody. In the rural areas of the county, there are no grammar schools. This is not for ideological reasons - we're talking about the same county that has grammar schools in the cities - but purely down to logisitics. The rural schools are all comprehensive, and, believe it or not, they also are among the best performing schools in the country. Country, that is, not county. Why? Because they're well-managed, well-staffed and well-run. Contrary to popular belief, they take competitive sport seriously. They encourage academic excellence for those capable of it, and maximise the potential of the less able - and, because these are true comprehensive schools, there are a lot of less able kids. They use setting and streaming in key subjects (yes, indeed, comps do recognise academic ability) to make sure students receive an education appropriate to their needs. They celebrate achievement and they are in fact quite able to call a Fail a Fail.

Where comprehensive schools can be a problem, though, is in the areas where grammar schools take all the most able kids. It's hardly surprising that a comp in a city with three grammar schools gets low exam results, is it? Or has more behaviour problems. The staff that work in those schools also do a fantastic job - how would you fare in a room full of sixteen year-olds, who by definition are not the brightest or best behaved, for an entire day? Every day? Believe me, it's a unique skill and one not to be dismissed lightly.

My point is, if the Daily Mail is to be believed, there is no such thing as a good comprehensive school. This is simply not true. Let's get past this bollocks about 'trendy teachers' giving everyone prizes. Beacuse it is bollocks. There's a whole lot of healthy competition going on in schools, in the classroom and on the sports field. Let's face it, all the hippy teachers with sixties ideals have long since retired. Teaching is a proper profession these days. Are there crap teachers? Of course there bloody are, same as there are crap engineers, policemen - even politicians, oddly enough.

Also, let's also get past the bollocks about 'those who can, do; those who can't, teach.', because it really winds me up.

I detect that you may have recognised that I have more than a passing interest in the subject. As I've explained above, I work in the telecoms industry, and have done for a total of 14 years. I am therefore more than capable of 'doing a proper job'. I have also, in between stints in industry, taught in Inner London for 6 years. And, as you may have guessed, I'm going back into teaching in September. In, as it happens, a grammar school. (Maths and engineering, since you ask.) I myself am most certainly not namby-pamby, and I don't know many teachers who are! We're pretty normal alcoholics, by and large. (That was a joke.)

I have no intention of turning this into a teaching blog. In fact, I'll never mention it again, apart from maybe some broad education-policy type stuff. But I needed to get that off my chest. As you can probably tell.

Incidentally, when we get back from the sunny Spanish beach we're going to London for a week. We will be very sure not to get tanned while on the beach, nor wear unseasonably warm jackets - and very, very definitely no rucksacks. Or IPods.

Ashes To Ashes

2005-07-21T12:57:00.000Z

As I write, the England cricket team are in the process of giving the Aussies a rare old trouncing. As I write, that is. No doubt by this time tomorrow it'll be back to Situation Normal. At least, I fervently hope so.

I can't help it, I really can't. Even though I've lived in England for 16 years now, and thoroughly love the place and the people (not to mention the fact that my half-Scottish, half-Welsh son will undoubtedly want to be English when he grows up), I just can't bring myself to support an England team. At anything. And for these purposes, Tim Henman counts as a team.

My English friends - ie, nearly all of my friends - seem to think this verges on ingratitude. I've even been called a racist. And then this, always this: "We'd support Scotland if they were playing."

Which is missing the point by about a hundred thousand miles. Not to mention being infuriatingly patronising. You see, when it comes down to it, it's about football. In our minds, Scotland are Man Utd and the English are Arsenal. Ihave never once heard a Gooner say "I do hope the plucky little ManYoos win the European Championship when we go out in the second round as usual." Or the other way round. It simply doesn't happen. And we would much rather that the English did what we do - support whoever's playing us. Even if it is the Faroe Islands. In fact, especially if it's the Faroe Islands. We can take it. We want you to take us seriously. Even though it is difficult even for us to take Scotland's current prospects seriously.

It's not that I have a problem with English sportsmen. Except Tim Henman. There are many I have a great deal of time for. It's the media, really. An Aussie fan posted this on the BBC cricket site, and I think he sums it up neatly:

"I would have thought you'd actually wait until you'd won a match before questioning Australia's skill or proclaiming England's greatness.It seems the inherent smugness of some of you just can't help bubbling to the surface."

That's it. The same smugness that seems, if one reads the popular press, to give the England football team the divine right to win the World Cup next year. That and the fact that England teams get masses of coverage in the national TV news, while Scotland, Wales and especially Northern Ireland barely rate a mention. And will you ever feckin' stop banging on about 1966? I dread the fortieth anniversary of that next year (yes, that's right - FORTY YEARS since you won anything. Now shut up.)

Sorry. Got carried away there. Would someone please get that chip off my shoulder?

Evidence that cricket is indeed a great game:

1317: Warne, the next man in, sits in the dressing room with cigarette in hand as Flintoff bowls two no-balls and sends another two balls wide down leg-side.

This has been a rant. A thoroughly enjoyable rant. Now, please disperse. There is nothing to see here.

Weapons of Mass Destruction

2005-07-20T14:02:00.000Z

The 60th anniversary of the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki comes up in August. The Guardian have re-published an edited version of an account of the aftermath by American journalist John Hersey, published in the New Yorker, describing the experiences of six survivors. Actually, the word 'survivor' doesn't seem wholly appropriate in the context. Apparently 95% of those within a half-mile of the blast died instantly - they may have been the lucky ones. It's a harrowing read.

The arguments for and against dropping the bombs have also been going on for sixty years; some of these are detailed in the wikipedia entry. It seems unarguable that the bombs assisted in bringing about the end of the war. It also seems unarguable, given the pig-headedness of the Imperial armed forces, that the eventual death toll would have been many times higher than the approximately two hundred thousand who died as a result of 'Little Boy' and 'Fat Man' (such delightful nicknames, don't you think?). When the Japanese military say 'fight to the last man' they mean it.

However, as this document demonstrates, the deliberate targetting of civilians - including analysis of the likely psychological effects - is very difficult to reconcile with the concept of civilised democracy. I know civilians were targetted throughout World War II, on all sides, and that 'total war' demanded difficult decisions. It's also true that it's perfectly possible to annihilate 200,000 city-dwelling civilians with conventional weapons. But this, the unique cruelty of the atomic bomb, goes way beyond the limits of acceptability - or at least my limits of acceptability. As Leo Szilard - a scientist who worked on the bomb - said

"If the Germans had dropped atomic bombs on cities instead of us, we would have defined the dropping of atomic bombs on cities as a war crime, and we would have sentenced the Germans who were guilty of this crime to death at Nuremberg and hanged them."

An extract from a report to the Vatican by a German priest, Father Siemes, who lived in Hiroshima but was out of the city on the day of the bomb is quoted in Hersey's article (italics are mine):

"Some of us consider the bomb in the same category as poison gas and were against its use on a civilian population. Others were of the opinion that in total war, as carried on in Japan, there was no difference between civilians and soldiers, and that the bomb itself was an effective force tending to end the bloodshed, warning Japan to surrender and thus to avoid total destruction. It seems logical that he who supports total war in principle cannot complain of war against civilians. The crux of the matter is whether total war in its present form is justifiable, even when it serves a just purpose. Does it not have material and spiritual evil as its consequences which far exceeds whatever good might result? When will our moralists give us a clear answer to this question?"

As we know, the targetting of innocent civilians as a tactic of 'war' is a phenomenon that lives with us still. Perhaps it's time to bang those moralists' heads together and get them to answer the bloody question.

It's also worth remembering who has the real weapons of mass destruction on this planet.

Happy Twelfth

2005-07-12T15:21:00.000Z

How I could I not write on the 12th of July, the start of the catholic-hunting season? (Lighten up! It's a joke! Everyone knows the catholic-hunting season starts on the 12th of August.)

The 12th of July is in fact the anniversary (sort of, after a bit of calendar-type jiggery-pokery) of the battle of the Boyne in 1690, when William of Orange's army defeated that of ex-king James. The wikipedia covers it very well, so no need for me to repeat the detail here.

Now the battle of the Boyne is widely regarded as being the Great Victory of the Protestants over the Catholics in Ireland, although in the wider European context things were a little more complicated. (I personally find it rather sad, but it really does seem that everyone hates the French. And always has. Read the wiki.) To celebrate this momentous event, the Orange Order (damn! linked to them again!) hold parades, mainly in Northern Ireland but also in other places around the world. In Northern Ireland itself these parades are often contentious, generally when the Orangemen want to march through areas which are now predominantly catholic. Interestingly, there are also parades in the Republic of Ireland which never seem to cause any problem at all.

Now, I can see both sides of this one. I've already posted about my former support for Sinn Fein, so it's not at all difficult for me to see the catholic side. It looks very much as if the Prods are marching around shouting "Ha. We won. We're the boss. Peasants. And we'll take it up any bloody Queen's Highway we please." Plus, the music's crap. And bowler hats look very silly. And they get in the way.
On the other hand, it is their tradition. The walks weren't originally through catholic areas; as the polarisation of the population increased it was inevitable that some routes would come close to mainly catholic areas. I think even the Orange Order might agree that in the past there were times when they did little to alleviate potential conflicts, but these days they do try to reach agreement and do make at least a show of respect when walking close to catholic estates.

To be honest, I find the whole thing pretty distasteful. I wish they'd just stop. I wish they'd stop banging on about 1690 - not many veterans of that battle still alive. But they're not going to. And, frankly, nor should they. I don't hear many complaints from Protestants about St Patrick's Day - I bet most of them are out getting pissed with green-painted faces, drinking green Guinness, and thinking "will you ever stop banging on about fecking Wolfe Tone?".
Okay, maybe not so much of the green.

Incidentally, there used to be an annual Orange walk in the town I grew up in in Ayrshire. It was always preceded by a policeman to generally sort traffic out and stuff. Many times, my dad was that policeman. He always found it highly amusing that the Orange walk was being led by a catholic and they didn't have a clue.

One of the things about Northern Ireland is it can be quite hard to predict who's going to be offended by what. If I haven't offended both sides equally let me know and I'll try to redress the balance. Actually, to be honest, I'm not sure I've been offensive enough....

BBC vs CNN

2005-07-08T21:05:00.000Z

There's an excellent post on Ed Bott's blog comparing the BBC's coverage of yesterday's events with the American news media. Interesting to read an American perspective confirming the superiority of the BBC approach to the more hysterical reaction of US news channels.

Those people who believe the BBC is politically biased, riddled with lefties, really need to give themselves a good slap and begin to appreciate what news would be like in this country if market forces were allowed to rule.

Forty Year Old Woman Frames Six Year Old Girl

2005-07-08T20:43:00.000Z

Some things just beggar belief.....
I'll let you read it for yourself, because, for the second time today, words fail me.

BBC Devon: Woman who framed child is jailed

London

2005-07-08T13:43:00.000Z

I'm really not sure what to say, so I think I'll take The Sharpener's advice and not say very much at all. Other than to express my condolences to the families of those who died, and wish a speedy recovery to those injured. My wife and I met when we both worked very close to Moorgate, and we have many friends there still, all of whom are thankfully fine.
I think Ken Livingstone said all that needed to be said; eloquent, measured and moving. The London News Review's take was somewhat less measured, but also bang on the mark.
I also thought the blog world did a fantastic job. As it was virtually impossible to access any of the professional news websites, I got most of my information from bloggers in London. I'd particularly single out Going Underground for some excellent coverage.
I will now take the London News Review's advice and go down the pub.

Chirac's Cooked His Moose

2005-07-06T15:59:00.000Z

Well, Jacques' cunning plan worked, then. London get the 2012 Olympics. I don't know what Finland's done to deserve the slating it's been getting lately. First of all Silvio Berlusconi has a go at the food, then Jacques Chirac weighs in. I mean, what could be wrong with a little Pan Fried Medallion of Moose, with a Potato and Celeriac, er, Mousse? Or a tasty rack of smoked reindeer ribs? The question is why did Monsieur Chirac not notice the little gaggle of journalists nearby when he made his allegedly private comments? Perhaps he's a little hard of herring? Sorry.

Plus, if there was ever a bad time to choose to slag off British food, surely it's a couple of days before arriving in Britain and presumably eating at the Gleneagles hotel. I'm sure it's not the kind of place where waiters would actually spit in your food, but why take the chance?

I've never been to Finland, so I can't comment on the food, but a couple of years ago my wife and I visited Tallinn, which is fairly adjacent. We went to an excellent Indian restaurant called the Elevant one evening and there on the menu was 'Moose Tikka Massala'. I kid you not. (It doesn't seem to be on the menu anymore, but there is the delightfully imaginative 'Moose on a Hot Plate'. Wasn't that a musical?)

Thought for the day, for no other reason than it popped into my mind while driving to work this morning. Dorothy Parker, asked to compose a sentence with the word 'horticulture' in it: "You can lead a horticulture but you can't make her think." Indeed.

Keep Scotland in Scotland!

2005-06-30T11:38:00.000Z

This is outrageous! Jason Scotland, Dundee United's Trinidadian striker, has been refused a work permit by the home office. Apparently he's not considered good enough:

"We have been told that Jason was refused his work permit because he was not of the highest calibre and would not make a significant contribution to the Scottish game."

And who made this despicable decision?

"This panel of five ex-players and the one SPL representative came to what we believe to be an incredible decision considering the player's record since he came to Scotland."

Five ex-players? Are they all ex-Dundee players? (Note - Dundee United and Dundee FC are two entirely separate teams and must not be confused. Even though their grounds are in the same street. Actually, they're quite easy to tell apart - Dundee are now in the First Division. Ha.)

What about all the foreign numptys who fill out the reserve teams of Rangers and Celtic? And indeed their first teams. Or are you telling me that Torquay United's Icelandic goalkeeper is irreplaceable? (Actually, he's just buggered off after refusing a drug test, but that's another story.)

For god's sake write to your MPs! This cannot go unchallenged!

A bemused, and unemployed, Jason Scotland said "Is it because I is black?"

Trevor McDonald Savages George Bush

2005-06-30T10:51:00.000Z

Probably not, eh? The only interview George Bush is giving to the British media prior to the G8 is with Sir Trevor McDonald. A clearly irritated Jeremy Paxman said "Bugger. Let me at him. Let me at him.........."

The Widespread Fame of Richard Whiteley

2005-06-30T10:21:00.000Z

Just got this in an email from a Microsoft Office mailing list I subscribe to (because I develop Excel spreadsheets for a living - so if you know anyone who needs a custom spreadsheet or some existing ones spruced up, just drop me an email. Rates very reasonable. </plug>)

One of my little pleasures when visiting the UK is watching an amazing little quiz show called Countdown. When other TV shows have massive prizes, glamorous hosts and simple questions, Countdown has difficult anagrams and number puzzles with the biggest prize being the admiration of your peers and a hearty round of applause. It was a very English show that had run for 23 years with Richard Whiteley at the helm.

Richard was an ebullient host with a famously outrageous taste in loud jackets and ties. He had an amazingly ability to deliver the worse jokes and puns imaginable as the host in every episode of Countdown over 23 years. Hopefully the show will continue but we all know it will never be the same. Richard Whiteley died unexpectedly last Sunday aged 61. He's survived by his partner Kathryn Apanowicz plus a broader family in the production team at Countdown.

It's extraordinary how popular that show is. I rarely watch it myself, but I know people who tape it (or, these days, skyplus it, I guess) so they can watch it when they get home from work. A friend of mine once worked as a researcher for the MP Austin Mitchell, and told me about the time Richard Whiteley turned up at his office in a morning suit ready for a Mitchell family wedding. A week early.
Can't imagine who they'll find to replace him - not bloody Giles Brandreth, I hope.

It's not Orange, it's Tangerine.

2005-06-28T18:07:00.000Z

Slugger O'Toole points to this article in the Belfast Telegraph as an example of how "cultural cross-fertilisation in Ireland is exposing the contradictions that infest the narrow outlooks of hardline British and Irish nationalism in Northern Ireland". I was particularly interested in the story of how the Orange Order were invited to march in Cork this St Patrick's day (I know, I know - remember where you heard it first, eh?) as part of the European City of Culture celebrations, and how they were forced to cancel after protests by Sinn Fein meant their safety couldn't be assured. (The Orange Lodge's summary is here - and I bet that is the only time in my life I ever link to the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland!) Should Northern Irish Orangemen have been able to march in Cork, given their tradition and beliefs? Of course they bloody should. I find the fact that Cork invited them in the first place, their genuine pleasure in accepting the invitation and the subsequent necessity to withdraw to be a really sad train of events.
I've been reading the EverythingUlster blog quite a bit these last few days, and I thoroughly recommend it to you. It's made me think through a few things, so this could turn into a bit of a rant. Sorry. Actually, no I'm not.

I grew up as a catholic in Ayrshire, on the South West coast of Scotland, a place that is no stranger to sectarianism. Unusually for a catholic, my father was a police officer and we lived in a succession of police houses in various Ayrshire towns. Our neighbours were always police, and always protestant, and my brother and I used to play with all the other little plodlets. Or Prodlets. There was never, as far as I recall, any grief either from the kids or their parents about us being catholic. My brother and I thought being protestant must be great, because we always had to go to church on Sundays and they didn't. Which means, of course, they must have been heathens, not prods, but that never occurred to us at the time.
We went to catholic primary schools, but when the time came to go to secondary school my parents had pretty much given up on catholicism (long story) so we went to the local protestant - sorry, non-denominational - school. There I painfully discovered the true extent of sectarianism. I do not recommend being a catholic policeman's son at a school in the West Coast of Scotland. Then again, my brother, who's a couple of years younger than me, says he never had any problems. He's in the police now too. You may draw your own conclusions.
Anyway, when it came to applying for universities, I decided to get out of the whole west coast sectarian thing, so I went to Dundee. Stop laughing. There isn't nearly as much sectarianism in the East. Well, those that are tend to become Celtic and Rangers supporters and bugger off west for the weekend. And good riddance too. I myself became a Dundee United supporter, and to this day have to spend hours explaining to English people why our strip is NOT orange, its TANGERINE. Gottit?
To get to the point. Despite disavowing catholicism (and all religion), and denouncing sectarianism, I became firmly involved with Republicans at University. I supported Sinn Fein. I saw Unionists as the enemy. I remained entrenched in these views for many years.
Nonetheless, two of my best friends are Unionists. Not 'some of my best friends are Unionists' - exactly two. About ten years ago I went to their wedding in Enniskillen and had one of the best weeks of my life. The Royal Black Preceptory were strongly represented, my views were well known, and I didn't experience anything but a warm welcome. I also realised that Northern Ireland was a very different place to the Republic, and it began to dawn on me that a united Ireland was going to be a bloody difficult, if not impossible, thing to achieve. And why would anyone in the North really want it?
The last straw came for me this week, with the IRA's admission that they killed Kathleen Feeney, a 14 year old schoolgirl, 30 years ago. At the time they blamed it on the British Army and murdered a soldier in reprisal. In the full knowledge that the British Army had nothing to do with it. No apology to the soldier's family either. Anyway, any lasting republicanism in me disappeared the moment I read that. Actually, that's not true. The Northern Bank robbery and the McCartney murder had pretty much killed it off.

My personal view is that Northern Ireland's best hope for the future is as an independent state within the EU. However, I'm also aware that Northern Ireland gets quite enough advice from people that have never lived there and to that extent haven't got a fucking clue what they're talking about. So feel free to ignore me.

Poor Tim

2005-06-23T18:55:00.000Z

Well, I guess he won't be winning this year, then.....

Bloody Wimbledon again.

2005-06-23T15:28:00.000Z

As I write, Him! Tenman! is once again attempting to win a tennis match at Wimbledon. Now, I have zero interest in tennis (I should probably say 'love interest', but that's a whole different, er, ballgame) but at this time every year I develop an interest. A foaming-at-the-mouth, expletive-screaming hate-filled interest. It's not pretty, it's not edifying and it's certainly not attractive. But I can't help it. I just hate Tim Henman's deluded fans. And the entire British media.
I have nothing against Tim at all. I've never met the guy. I'm sure he's very nice - although not when he's shouting at teenage girls "get your heads out of your arses and get me a coke". I'm sure they didn't teach him manners like that at posh school. Anyway, he's a good tennis player. A very good tennis player, even - I believe he's been in the world's top ten for several years. But - and you may need to sit down for this - he is not the best tennis player in the world. He may win Wimbledon, but the chances are he won't. This does not make him a traitor. He has not let us down. He will simply have lost a game of tennis. When he does come to retire I'm sure he'll look back and be proud of his career. I'm pretty bloody sure his bank manager will be proud of his career. Just leave the guy alone - please! I mean, it's not as if the media show any interest when he loses in Bongo-Bongo land, is it?
And now the 'young British hope' Andrew Murray is about to get the same treatment (I say British - he'll be demoted to Scottish again the second he loses). I actually heard an old-school BBC commentator say this on the radio this morning: "Murray and Henman. The contrast. One from the streets, one from the Shires". Which is fucking which?? Murray has a POSH Scottish accent. Very posh indeed. The closest he's come to the streets is the tree-lined boulevards of Morningside. For god's sake, just because he's Scottish does not mean he's a hoody-wearing ned fae the Gorbals.

"I say, that young chap's awfully good, isn't he?"
"Awfully. Scottish, you know."
"Really? How splendid to see one with such a disadvantaged background making something of themselves."
"Oh dear, he's lost."
"Bloody Jocks."

And worse than all of this - no Peter Allen and Jane Garvey to listen to on the way home. Bloody BBC.

More Nick Davies.

2005-06-23T14:49:00.000Z

The last part of Nick Davies' excellent series on the criminal justice system:

So you listen to the prison officers, and they're reading from the same script - even this hard-assed veteran who mourns the passing of respect and discipline in society. He goes on to complain that the public like their prisons to be warehouses, just storing people to keep the streets clean, but he's had a grown lad crying on his shoulder about being sexually abused by his own father and another bursting with pride about how his dad used to take him on burglaries when he was only so small, and he says he used to be cynical about sorting out the problems of offenders but now he can see the usefulness of it. Apart from anything else, it means the offender's got no excuse any more.

(My emphasis).

And that, I think, is key - no re-offender should ever be able to say they haven't been given every chance, all the help they need, to break the cycle. And, dear Daily Mail reader, this is for the benefit of all of us. It is not "pandering to criminals".

From the care-home to the grave.

2005-06-22T14:36:00.000Z

Today's Guardian has an excellent piece about criminal re-offending. It looks at the life of a Plymouth man called Andrew O'Connor:

By the time he was 10, he was being arrested. By the time he was 15, he was doing custody. By the time he was 30, he was dead. Nothing unusual. There are thousands of Andrew O'Connors shuffling through the dark tunnels of our criminal justice system.

Not to mention having his driving license endorsed at the age of 12. Four years before he could even apply for it.

There will be those who have little sympathy for the Andrew O'Connors of this world, and I can see why, especially if you've had your house burgled by him or your car nicked or been threatened while he was off his head on crack. But the inescapable fact here is that the treatment this man - and thousands of other men and women - received from childhood to the grave shames us all, and lets us all down. And costs us money, if that's your angle. Simple facts - the care system for children doesn't care, the prison system for adults doesn't work. Difficult to argue a good case for the effectiveness of prison when we lock up more people per head of population than the USA - and have a higher recidivism rate.

Before the Mail readers get too upset, it's absurd to suggest that no-one should be sent to prison. There are many, many people who deserve to be in prison and I'm glad they're there. But too often, I repeat, it simply doesn't work.
What do we want prison to be? A punishment? Certainly. A way of keeping bad bastards away from our families? Absolutely. A deterrent? We'd like it to think so. A path to rehabilitation? Abso-fucking-lutely.
So it probably fulfils the first two. Not sure about the third. But the fourth:

By the time the SEU report was published, Andrew O'Connor had been released from custody 11 times and he had never received any effective help for any of the problems that made him an offender.

And think about this as a useful way to prepare a serial burglar for the outside world:

Andrew O'Connor was pushed out of the gate of Long Lartin prison one morning with no address to go to, no job to go to, no GP to look after him and only £46.75 of discharge grant to last him the several weeks it would take him to sign on.

Well, that should work. Make sure he has no money, no job, nowhere to live, no access to help for his addictions and the rest of us should be able to sleep in our beds at night.

The conclusions of the SEU report are not lily-livered liberal hand-wringing. They're common fucking sense. Unfortunately, we're unlikely to see them implemented:

"The premise was that seven government departments would go on to forge a united front against reoffending, and prison would only be used as a last resort. What actually happened was that they cherry-picked the most politically acceptable and convenient actions, and rubbished the rest - namely, the social inclusion measures."

Mustn't upset the Daily Mail now, must we?

By the way, the last paragraph in the piece, a quote from an ex-nurse, is required reading.

Reality has reared it's ugly head again.

2005-06-20T20:41:00.000Z

Well, I'm flummoxed. Mrs graeme's watching the final of Celebrity Love Island, so I thought: excellent opportunity for a spot of blogging and taking the piss as I sit here keeping her company (I'm nice like that). And I can't think of anything witty, scathing, or just smugly superior to say. It's a perfect target, a kind of open goal really, a bunch of half-pissed half-celebs behaving like kids behind the bike sheds at school. It is the end of civilisation as we know it, I read in the Sundays. It is the worst example of the worst type of tv programming known to man. It will rot the brains of your children (although as graeme jr is not yet two, he's safe in his cot - really, he'll thank me one day). Normally, I'm quite up for a bit of reality tv. I even watched Gordon Ramsay's Hell's Kitchen (not that Gary Rhodes, though, that's a step too far). But I haven't watched more than a couple of episodes of this, so I don't feel qualified to comment.
On the other hand, I love Big Brother. And Big Blogger. Especially Big Blogger. Also I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here.
Actually, I begin to see the problem....... my brain has rotted.

Crap circles

2005-06-10T15:41:00.000Z

The Sun's front page today shows a photo of a crop circle (or, as Nicky Campbell accidentally-on-purpose called them on the radio this morning, "crap circles") proving that aliens support London's bid for the Olympic Games in 3035, or whenever it is. (I refuse to link to the Sun, even if they did support Labour; best steal a copy if you want a look.) This reminds me that I once saw a crop circle in a field adjoining the Paignton-Totnes road. No arcane symbols here, just a message in English from our alien interlopers. A simple, one-word message. And the word was... "cunt". In twenty-foot high letters. I tell you, octagenarians in flat caps and Nissan Micras were crashing all over the place. Oh how we laughed. And laughed. Now, I'm guessing what happened here is that a couple of delinquent alien hoodies, after a few too many pints of Interstellar Artois, thought it would be a jolly jape to nick a sporty little spaceship, zap over to earth, and use that naughty word they'd seen on Don't Earthlings Talk Funny. Either that or it was a couple of teenage tourists miffed at being dragged off to Torquay with Mam and Dad. Whichever, you have to admire the dedication. Must have taken bloody hours. (By the way, Nicky Campbell also got into trouble for mangling 'West Kent Hunt' on the radio. Twice. Mind you, it's a bloody easy mistake to make....)

Now, a controversial subject. The Live8 backlash. I realise this may not be universally popular, but I find myself agreeing with Damon Albarn. For a start, Geldof really does seem to have lost it - sail across the English channel and bring back French people, then make them march to Edinburgh? Apart from the fact that the English channel is about the most dangerous waterway in the world, isn't kidnapping an offence? Even if it is French people? (Sorry, that was entirely gratuitous. I love the French. Obviously lived in England too long.) Ok, I know he didn't advocate kidnapping. I'm exaggerating for effect. He clearly thinks lots of French people will want to join in. He might be right - or he might have lost his marbles.
Just to be absolutely clear, I wholeheartedly support the aims of Live8, I'm just really not sure in what way it helps. A few years ago I spent some time in Mozambique, Swaziland and South Africa. There is hellish poverty in these places, especially Mozambique, but as Albarn says there is also a great deal of good stuff (if you ever get the chance, go here; it's the most fantastic place I've ever been - just watch out for the Rhodies). It's time to stop polarising Africa into villains and victims and recognise that not everything on the continent is in a mess. It seems to me that Gordon Brown has a plan, and is going the right way about attempting to deliver it. Best leave him to get on with it.... my word, I came over all serious then. Sorry. And I am prepared to have the error of my ways spelled out....

And finally, Liverpool Get Let Into The Champion's League Shock. Jammy bastards. I mean, they didn't even score against Chelsea and they still won the bloody game. Not that I'm a Chelsea fan, I just have an irrational dislike of Liverpool FC. Probably because me Grandma's a Manc.

Oh, not quite finally. Get on over to Big Blogger and check out the fun. Much more entertaining than the telly version, I promise you, although with fewer breasts on display. So far, anyway....

2005-06-09T20:26:00.000Z

Ilfracombe. Because I can.

2005-06-09T20:25:00.000Z

The Eden Project, med biome. Just trying out this Hello thing.

Your own personal windfarm.

2005-06-06T13:11:00.000Z

Personal wind turbines from British Gas - stick one on your roof and generate your own electricity. If it's very windy you can even sell the excess back - or spend a few days picking roof tiles and mangled blades up from the street. From the British Gas website:

A tiny version of its big brother the windfarm turbine, the Windsave rooftop model is expected to produce around 1kw of electricity to supplement the property's existing national grid supply – enough to power a TV and DVD player, computer, the fridge and freezer and several lights.

And apparently no planning permission required either. At 'around £1500' you may wish to do the maths and work out return on investment yourself.

And speaking of green things, at last the green half of Northern Ireland will have someplace to shop as Asda (Wal-Mart to non-Brits) bail out the over-ambitious Morrisons. Must be a nightmare having to endure all that red, white and blue at Tesco's. And to prove their credentials, the first price cut listed in Asda's own press release - Guinness! (Find it yourself, they get enough publicity without me linking to them.)

Thought for the day, from today's lunchtime conversation in the canteen of gainful employment - the logical conclusion of the application of GM technology to the food chain, and how we can end world hunger? "Grow more cows." Genius.

On Blogging, and also on Europe

2005-06-01T20:57:00.000Z

I've just had my first blogging crisis. The 'What the fuck is the point, and I'm writing complete crap' one that leads to anguish and agonising over the next post. Then I realised no bugger is reading it anyway, so might as well just carry on pleasing myself. Actually, She Weevil did leave a comment, for which thanks. Yes, indeed, I have occasionally been known to foment rebellion in the work canteen....

Actually, the work canteen (actually, the work restaurant - anyone know Gordon Ramsay's mobile number?) is an excellent place to judge the mood of the nation. The topic for today was Europe, all over the bloody place. The consensus being that because the French voted against the constitution then it must be a Good Thing and can we have our referendum now please, Mr Blair, so we can vote Oui. Just to annoy them. The token French bloke at the table (oh, yes, we're a thoroughly multinational company) tried to explain that the Non vote did not mean the French were anti-Europe, while my German mate tried to explain the meaning of the word Schadenfreude. Quite entertaining all round.

Being Scottish (but thoroughly enjoying living in England for many years now), I've had quite a while to get used to being ruled from a foreign capital and adopting their currency. Although in our case, obviously, we actually run the foreign capital and its currency.......

Eurovision, Footie and the BBC

2005-05-23T12:37:00.000Z

So, Greece add the Eurovision Song Contest to the European Nations Cup. And twelve points from Turkey! Warms the heart to see the two great chums getting on so well. (Can't remember how many points Greece gave Turkey. Pretty sure it wasn't 12.) Shame Moldova didn't win, though. Apart from being by far the best song (Terrorvision influence, anyone?), Terry Wogan might not have been able to find it in time for next year. (Don't look Terry, its here.)

The funniest three minutes of the weekend have to be the last three minutes of the Motherwell-Celtic game yesterday afternoon (sorry, I'm going off on a Scottish football theme for the next wee bit; those with other interests may wish to navigate to the Manchester United/Tampa Bay thingies/CBeebies sites instead). As a Dundee United supporter myself I am generally both disinterested and uninterested in the fortunes of the Evil Twins, but I couldn't suppress a belly laugh as I heard Motherwell's second goal go in. And both goals scored by a life-long Australian Celtic supporter. Hilarious. My only regret is that one of the Evil Twins had to win the SPL this year; I look forward to seeing both lots of Weegies blubbing into their bridies when Gretna win in a couple of years time. Mind you, on reflection, this might not be the ideal week to be meeting Celtic in the Scottish Cup Final.

Interesting to see who did and didn't cross the picket lines at the BBC this morning. The aforementioned Terry Wogan did (you'd think he'd be glad of a day off, wouldn't you?), although he did wish the strikers good luck. Which was nice. Jeremy Paxman didn't. It seems Nicky Campbell didn't either, judging by his absence from 5Live breakfast. All in all a great day to play the old-fashioned 'Spot The Scab'game on BBC tv and radio. While I sympathise whole-heartedly with the strikers, and would be loath to cross a picket line myself, I just can't seem to get as exercised about it as I used to. Maybe I'm just getting old. Now, where did I leave my Daily Mail?

"Every day when I wake up...

2005-05-20T12:25:00.000Z

... I thank the Lord I'm Welsh."

Actually, I'm not, but I can see what Cerys means.

Not only is the Welsh music scene at an all-time vibrant high (here and here, for example), but so is the literature.
One of these years I've promised myself I'll make it to the Hay-on-Wye literary festival. There are, after all, some excellent pubs there.

Now, where are all the fab & groovy Scottish bands? (Well, actually, here's one: Sons and Daughters)

George Bush Is a Big Fearty*

2005-05-19T14:22:00.000Z

George W Bush is bringing his own aircraft carrier to the G8 summit in Scotland this July (not to mention Marines, fighters, limos, helicopters and pretzels) - and parking it off the West Coast?? A quick glance at a map shows that any single part of the West Coast would be a less than optimal location to protect a hotel near the East Coast (incidentally, it wasn't easy finding the Gleneagles Hotel on Google Maps; conspiracy or they've just never heard of it?). Might I suggest the Firth of Forth as a parking spot? Or, then again, maybe it's just a little too obvious. Or just so big it'll block the traffic.
Mind you, our lot aren't much better. They've chosen Prestwick Airport as the entrance point for our glorious leaders because it's more difficult for protesters to get to than Glasgow or Edinburgh. As difficult as following the "Trains to Prestwick Airport" sign at Glasgow Central Station? Maybe they're going to take the sign down. That should confuse the crusties. And I have to say lots of affluent touring golfers seem to be able to find the Royal Prestwick and Royal Troon golf courses - so it can't be that hard, can it? It's also worth pointing out that Prestwick is just about the furthest away airport from Gleneagles in the whole of Scotland.
I really hope Christopher Brookmyre is working on the novel already.

*Fearty - Scots for 'no affy brave'

Ukrainian Comedy Reggae

2005-05-19T12:35:00.000Z

What's more, political Ukrainian comedy reggae. The host nation's entrant for the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest:

GreenJolly owe their success to the Maidan [revolution]. They have been together since 1997, specialising in Ukrainian comedy reggae - a genre of somewhat limited appeal. During the early days of the revolution, however, Kalyn, Roman Kostyuk (guitar) and Andriy Pisetskyi (keyboards and saxophone) wrote Razom Nas Bahato in just four hours, channelling key war cries into an infectiously strident hip-hop track. When a local radio station posted it on its website, the track became an anthem overnight. The next day GreenJolly performed it in Independence Square to 50,000 protesters; a few days later the crowd had swollen to half a million.

Although, in the spirit of the event, they've toned down the politics. A bit:

The band duly took out Yushchenko's name, but their insistence that "the song doesn't contain any politics any more" is less than persuasive, given that the first line is: "We won't stand this - no! The revolution is on!"

As the Guardian explains, it's not easy hosting the Eurovision these days. Then again, I'm sure the Orange revolutionaries are grateful that things didn't turn out like this.

Read more about the Uzbekistan situation here and here.

How Gorgeous Is George?

2005-05-18T18:07:00.000Z

Gorgeous George Galloway, the so-called "MP for Baghdad Central", sure gave those Yank Senate boys one hell of a beating. Or so he would like to think. The jury is very much out, it would appear. A quick vox pop (ie a lunchtime chat in the work canteen) indicates that the English public found the whole thing hilarious; taking on the might of the US Senate has at last made George into the kind of folk hero he always wanted to be. What short memories people have.

George loves a good headline, and he's not averse to repeating himself either. Consider this quote:

“I met Saddam exactly the same number of times as Donald Rumsfeld met him. The difference is that Rumsfeld was meeting him to sell him weapons and I was meeting him to try and get rid of the weapons to avoid the war.”

Sound familiar? It's from an interview with Arab News in June 2003, bizarrely re-quoted at the Jerusalemites.

Of course, George wasn't appearing in front of the Senate Committee to give a speech; he was merely defending his good name. Again.

So, did he profit from Iraqi oil? I very much doubt it. I don't think there's any question that
George is absolutely sincere in his beliefs (although a couple of senators may disagree - "Committee chairman Norm Coleman said: "I think that Mr Galloway's credibility is certainly very suspect"" -from the BBC report).

Many years ago, when I was a student at Dundee University (1980, since you ask) George was a Labour member of the City Council. He outraged the right-wing Scottish press (and everyone else, for that matter) with his now infamous twinning of the City of Dundee with the City of Nablus on the Palestinian West Bank. The PLO flag flew majestically over Dundee's City Square. As has been pointed out (by himself, obviously) George's alliance with the Palestinian cause at that time was as outrageous and shocking as declaring support for Osama Bin Laden and Al Qaeda would be today. The Mayor of Nablus was invited to Dundee and, again infamously (or possibly apocryphally?) presented with a case of whisky and a kilt. Not ideal gifts for a devout Muslim who's legs had been recently blown off, it was suggested at the time.

Back in Washington, however, it seems clear that the good Senators are not about to change their minds regarding Oor Geordie's involvement with Big Saddam. George has expressed regret that he can't sue anyone for libel. They should be relieved; he's very good at it.

I can't wait to see Mel Gibson in the movie....

Learn more about Gorjie Georgie here.

Better Late Than Never?

2005-05-18T17:45:00.000Z

Well, I hope so.
I hadn't paid much attention to the BlogWorld up until a few weeks ago; I guess I fell for the 'navel-gazing' accusations I've read so often. In fact, the breadth and depth of opinion and talent is frankly breath-taking. And, often, the narrowness and shallowness - which is not necessarily a bad thing.
Anyway, I thought I may as well chuck in my tuppenceworth rather than just become an inveterate lurker. With any luck I may actually produce something interesting.
Oh, the name of the blog. All I can say is it seemed like a good idea at the time, and I kind of grew to like it. Aging Magazine fans may recognise the source. I've tried to come up with a philosophical justification along the lines of "Failing Miserably To Clean Up The World" or some such nonsense, but essentially its meaningless.
By the way, I promise I will rarely - if ever - mention the 'Simple Object Access Protocol'. It's not that kind of blog...