A hell of a row (sorry)

As you may recall, I'm here:

and you probably aren't, which is a real shame.

What did I do today? I watched the Puck Fair Kerry County Coastal Rowing Championship (the serious goat-crowning kicks off tomorrow). Lots of (often) red-headed kids rowing skiffs down a tidal river. It was hugely impressive, and I took a lot of shots, all of which are here.  A few samples (click on them for larger versions):

Damn: there are two Paul Uppals now!

Perhaps it's a Tory thing, but there seems to be a certain inbuilt resentment amongst these MPs. Dominic Raab has told 38Degrees to remove his government email address from their pages because he won't answer e-mails from his own constituents! He's already had it taken off the House of Commons website - I'm amazed they've agreed.

In case you'd like to ask him what he's up to, it's dominic.raab.mp@parliament.uk

One more thing

Just because I'm on holiday doesn't mean I've forgotten you, Mr Paul Uppal. I remember very well that it's three months since my first, polite, letter to you - a letter to which you haven't responded, despite the rule that MPs must reply to constituents.

You lazy hound. I'm not angry, merely disappointed. It's the holidays (though as you're an MP, it's usually the holidays). What say you find 3 minutes in the next three months to dash off a quick response and we can forget all about it? Shake hands, move on?

Seriously, Paul. I've got a lot of work to do when I get back, and I'm trying to relax here, but all I can think about is whether you're OK. Are you ill? Have your hands dropped off? Was it something I said? The silence is killing me.

This is for you, Big Man. Let's be friends.

…and the odd

A few of the more random shots. As usual, click on them for big images, go here for the whole lot.

I love puns.

The Atlantic

Super-Connected (to quote Belly)

A burnt fencepost!

And the gorse bush next to it

Rusty farm scrap is great

In a cave high up in a slate quarry. Not so immaculate now! 

Only in Ireland…

Detail from the slate quarry wall

After all these years, he still goes fishing.

Hello trees, hello flowers

Kerry's a riot of heather, montbretia and other flowers I don't know the names of. More here, but have a sample.

Chough all mate

My birding friends will (hopefully) like these. Choughs are pretty scarce in these parts apparently. It's worth clicking on them for larger images, and going here for all the day's photos.

Not a chough

I'm really pleased with this one.

Lift Off

By Toutatis, I'm feeling smug.

I was here:

And now I'm here:

Sorry about the spacing - Blogger really is a pain in the arse sometimes.

All (most) worries melted away. Work a figment of my imagination. I read today about Education Minister David Willetts being told by an interviewer that the policy he was defending had been scrapped while he was on air, laughed and carried on enjoying my holiday.

Click on these pictures to get bigger ones (it's worth it) and see here for the full set. If you'd rather see something very, very different, click here.

All serious universities do this

Yes, every university has a teddy bear with its own e-mail address which we're encouraged to photograph in exotic locations. He even has his own page where he tells us about his adventures.

It's behind a passworded intranet page, so I can't direct you there to marvel, but here's a taste:

Well here we are again, everyone else has gone on their holidays and I’m left to do the work – you can see that I am in Poland to meet our very new and very eager students coming to us in September, there are also a few very nice parents around - so I have to be on my best behaviour!

So early to bed and up in the office first thing ...  oh how I fancy myself as a Knight in armour, I’m sure I’d have more success with the ladies if I looked like that!

I feel a satire coming on…

Very appropriate in an age in which air travel should be discouraged. I certainly feel that a corporate teddy bear makes up for the sackings, imposed curriculum changes and disastrous morale.

I direct you all (including my management superiors) for enlightenment to this blog post, 'What the Fuck Is My Social Media Strategy?')

Uppal where the air is clear

Lazy Paul's landed himself a job!

He's going to head the Parliamentary Urban Development Group, or as the industry lobbying website puts it (Uppal's kept this prestigious appointment rather quiet), 'the property group' - which makes it very clear that urban planning should only ever be about property development: god forbid we build parks and public space!

Well done Paul. It's really important for an MP to sit on Select Committees to scrutinise government.

What's that? It's not a Select Committee, just a cosy little club with no legislative standing but very useful for getting freebies, money and helping lobbyists? It's as serious as the All-Party Parliamentary Groups for Cheese, Historic Vehicles, Lighting, Headache Disorders, Mobile Homes, the Parliamentary Choir, Underground Space (intriguing) and my favourite, The Scotch Whisky and Spirits Group ('To promote and facilitate communication and understanding between representatives from the scotch whisky and spirits industry and MPs' - bet they have a great Christmas party)?

Say it ain't so, Paul, say it ain't so. Why would you involve yourself in a grubby little activity like this rather than try to get on to an actual proper committee that, y'know, does stuff?

The newly elected Conservative MP for Wolverhampton South West has worked in the property industry before 

Ah. I should have known. I'm gagging to read the new Register of Members' Interests in September.

In the meantime, I'm afraid I've become a nasty little telltale. Casting my eye over the Register of All-Party Groups (linked to above), updated on 30th July, I notice that Paul's little club isn't registered, let alone on the 'Approved' list. And that means no using Parliament's authority and prestige to sound important. I've dropped the Parliamentary Standards authority a note, just to keep Paul honest…

PR Stunt of the day (I hope)

The Premier League (that's the top division of English soccer, overseas readers) has proposed opening a string of sport-themed 'free' schools (i.e. unsupervised by elected officials).

I assume that this is just a greedy, stupid and selfish organisation trying to make itself look more caring while currying favour with their friends in the Tory/Lib Dem government.

At least, I hope so. Perhaps they were inspired by the (moronic) introduction of league tables into education, and think that encouraging masses of kids to think that the answer to their problems is becoming a professional footballer is somehow useful. I'm also sickened by the branding and balkanisation of the new education system - schools are becoming indoctrination centres for anything from creationism to corporate products: little chance of independent thinkers emerging from these places.

What happens when a team is relegated? Will expelled kids get shown a red card by the headteacher (or 'referee', as we'll have to call him)? Will the top set kids drive Baby Bentleys and refuse to share the team bath with new kids? School photographs are going to be a nightmare, with every pupil's agent demanding 'image rights'. Still, excuses for not doing your homework will improve after studying the diving and cheating encouraged in the Premiership.

This is just a cynical exercise in branding and PR.

From the horse's mouth

People seem to be accepting Tory Scum's apocalyptic cuts to public services because we're in a terrible financial hole. OK, they're saying - we'll suffer in the short term to improve things over the long term.


Sorry people - it's a con. The plan is just to abandon lots of public services (health, education and lots more) to corporations and charities. How do I know?


David Cameron (inherited millions, attended Eton at £30,000 per year plus extras including 'tipping staff', Oxford University) said so.

Citing the dramatic increase in the deaths of firefighters, and an increase in deaths as a result of fire, she asked him: "Will you give me a pledge today that when these austere times are over, and you have the money back in the bank or you're balancing your books, that you will look at anything that is cut during this period and go back and get in those fire engines back in the places they are needed to support the public?"

Cameron refused to make the pledge.

"The direct answer to your question, should we cut things now and go back later and try and restore them later, I think we should be trying to avoid that approach," he said.

Stewart Lee had something to say about Call Me Dave, in this week's New Statesman:

Dave seems to be encouraging charity organisations to take on many of the social services currently provided by the government. There may be some logic in getting us to take responsibility for ourselves; Dave himself is a good example of someone who has made it to the top of society on is own initiative despite a difficult start in life. 

Personally, I don't think there is a financial crisis. As Amartya Sen says about famines, there's never been a food shortage: just a distribution problem. 


There's loads of money floating around - we gave it all to the banks, and to hedge fund traders by not taxing them properly, and to buy-to-let speculators through the tax system, and to the rich by turning a blind eye to their tax avoidance, and spent a lot more on illegal wars. We've let the Tory Scum and their hateful newspapers persuade us that taxation and government are inherently evil. 


My solution: either copy Norway or simply invite them to take over this country. You've invited the Dutch and Germans in voluntarily before (and King Alfred has a lot to answer for) - why not beg an enlightened Scandinavian country to take pity upon you? You'll get high taxation, beautiful, friendly cities, low crime, lots of bikes, low pollution, sensible financial planning, proper democracy, reluctance to throw yourselves into whichever foolish military adventure the Americans propose, and you'll all magically become very very attractive. You might even get fjords.

The Dark Place as it could by under the enlightened rule of Norway

The Norwegian Birmingham

Stoke-on-Trent, Norwegian style

The Hegemon. Potentially

Invadere oss, behage!

…and I'll think of you both day and night, until I return once more

Yes, this is my last day in the office for over a week! I'm actually going on holiday. I'm taking a camera and laptop, so you may hear from me sporadically, or you may not. Judging by the way my viewing figures increase at weekends, when I don't blog, I'll return to find myself trending on Twitter or some such nonsense.

Welcome, The Audit Commission

Not sure why they're interested, but The Audit Commission (the very important watchdog for government expenditure, though its senior executives such as recently departed CEO Steve Bundred - who called for public spending cuts despite taking home £212,000 - seem to spend an awful lot of time being wined, dined and entertained by dubious companies) keeps reading my gentle teasing of Paul Uppal MIA 'MP'.

Perhaps they're going to do a value-for-money or time and motion study on this most Stakhanovite of representatives.

Come for the fearless exposure of malfeasance, stay for the lo-fi and sarcasm!

Justice for Ian Huntley

Over here, Ewar makes a strong case against mob rule (careful Ewar, you're sounding liberal), so I thought I'd add my pennorth.

Ian Huntley murdered two children. He was convicted and sentenced to life in prison, which sounds fair enough to me.

In prison, he was badly injured in an attack by another prisoner (now a folk hero on Facebook, as Ewar explains) and intends to sue the prison authorities for endangering him. The story's been all over the worst tabloids this week.

Good.

Huntley's bad and/or mad. That's clear enough from his crime. That doesn't mean that he isn't a human being with all the rights that accrue. He's paying his debt to society. You don't lose your fundamental right to safety because you're a criminal. I'm very uncomfortable with the idea that he could have £100,000 in the bank in compensation for his injuries, but that's tough. He shouldn't have been attacked, and the prison service shouldn't create the conditions in which violent individuals can launch such attacks.

Justice is administered by the state, and blindly (that's the theory anyway, though women, for example, are imprisoned for offences men don't get locked up for, amongst other problems). It doesn't matter what Huntley's done when it comes to acting on crimes committed against him. If we remove the rights of the worst members of society, that undermines the social values that keep society on an even keel.

Personally, I'd like to see NHS care denied to anyone who crashes their car while using a mobile phone or not wearing a seat belt (my taxes, your stupidity), but I know that that's a slippery slope in which the loudest voices (Tory Scum and their tabloid friends) will institute a reign of terror. Before long you'd get AIDS treatment restricted to blood transfusion victims, or benefits doled out only to the 'deserving' poor. Oh hang on, that's already happening…

Big Society? Do me a favour.

The Tories thought that they were being terribly clever by asking the public, and civil servants, for suggestions about government policy. Some goateed git in 'directional' spectacles introduced Cameron to the word 'crowdsourcing' and explained that it would make him look cool and open-minded.

9500 citizens were dumb enough to think that this was something more than a PR exercise and suggested things (mostly, I suspect, along the lines of 'torture anyone who looks like a paedo').

Has the Listening Government adopted any of these suggestions?
Don't be ridiculous. Tories only respect the rich and famous. Civil servants only respect each other. The rest of us don't count (and in most cases, we shouldn't, as we have neither the time, education or training to become experts -just like politicians).

The government's first attempt at crowdsourcing its coalition programme has ended without a single government department expressing a willingness to alter any policy.

Crowdsourcing involves soliciting knowledge and expertise from the public to help find solutions to problems. The coalition asked the public to respond to its programme on government websites. It received 9,500 replies online.

However, its formal responses, published on each website, shows Whitehall regarded the process largely as an endorsement of what it was already doing.

The whole thing's a shameless rip-off of Labour's patronising and pointless 'Big Conversation'. Remember that? No, me neither.

Cultural Relativism in Action

And somewhere, people are presumably venerating icons of George Bush. This poster is in Kosova.

Staying Out For The Summer

Good morning children. How are we all today? It feels wrong to be in the office. The building's deserted, my desk's actually clean (it's wood: who knew?) and I should be outside.

Summer for the Vole family meant six kids - eventually - locked outside, whatever the weather. Lunch would be passed through a window, and we'd be allowed inside a day before the new school term.



How did I fill those endless months? For a few minutes, I'd play with my siblings, until someone cried, or I smashed our only cricket ball into a hedge, never to be seen again. Mowing lawns figured frequently, as did picking fruit that I actually didn't like. Gooseberries - sour and hairy. Raspberries - maggot-ridden and hairy. If it rained, I'd be in the garage or the greenhouse, munching peas and reading apparently unsuitable books which caused bitter arguments and bans from going to the library unsupervised. This from parents whose reading stretched from medical journals to the Pope's latest ramblings… though they've not respected a pontiff since the Council of Trent. After that, the liberal rot set in.

Most of all, I liked to get on my ill-fitting third-hand bike (dark red, 1970s girl's tourer, weighed a ton) and just go. Any direction, for as long as I liked. Conversation with the parents consisted of 'Where've you been?' 'Out.' Who with?' 'Nobody you know'., a formulation that worked well almost until graduation, by which time my absences would encompass entire weeks. We were never particularly loquacious or huggy: 'sharing' still fills me with horror. What's wrong with an affectionate handshake at Christmas and perhaps Easter?

To go or not to go

I've been planning to volunteer for the 2012 Olympics for a long time. I'm too late to take qualify as an FIE (world-class referee) for the fencing, but there's probably something I can do.

So I filled in all the forms, which took 40 minutes because the website is so badly designed. Then, on the very last page: a McDonald's logo. No previous mention, though perhaps I should have known. It's there on the webpage now, though I went through British Fencing.

'MacDonald's has supported the Olympic Movement for more than 30 years and we share many of the same ideals.'

IOC President Jacque Rogge

Turin, February 7, 2006

Oh dear. Either the IOC's ideals include making billions with little regard for the health of its consumers and the wellbeing of its workers (minimum wage, union-busting), or MacDonald's really is a big fan of corruption, patronage and physical perfection.

It's a real dilemma. I strongly disapprove of junk food manufacturers associating themselves with sport, even an organisation as morally compromised as the Olympics (e.g. here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, this BBC timeline of corruption, here, this compendium of disgraceful shenanigans, and this scandalous story in particular.

Perhaps it's a bit too much to expect clean hands and morality from an organisation  with so much money and patronage to dispense, led for so long by unrepentant (and official) fascist and roller-hockey honcho Juan Antonio Samaranch, from his 5-star hotel in Switzerland (here he is in 1974, giving the old Nazi salute), or by Avery Brundage the American Nazi cheerleader, mysogynist anti-semite who took Jews off the US team in 1936, campaigned against female inclusion, made sure that a former opponent was unjustly stripped of his medals, supported 'Rhodesia' (white-rules Zimbabwe) against exclusion attempts and expelled Smith and Carlos from the 1968 Olympics for their Black Power salute, despite supporting the Nazi pageantry and salutes of 1936.

Should I volunteer to help my sport at what is still the greatest competition on earth, or is it too tainted by 'presenting partner'? Does one person's participation or not matter in the slightest? What do you think?

(I know, it's just me going on as usual. I actually love sport - but I find it difficult to separate it from its political and cultural contexts. And football's worse - FIFA's a disgrace).

Just for yow

An extract from George Borrow's 1862 Wild Wales, just for the inhabitants of the Black Country and Birmingham:

At Birmingham station I became a modern Englishman, enthusiastically proud of modern England's science and energy; that station alone is enough to make one proud of being a modern Englishman. Oh, what an idea does that station with its thousand trains dashing off in all directions, or arriving from all quarters, give of modern English science and energy. My modern English pride accompanied me all the way to Tipton; for all along the route there were wonderful evidences of English skill and enterprise; in chimneys high as cathedral spires, vomiting forth smoke, furnaces emitting flame and lava, and in the sound of gigantic hammers, wielded by steam, the Englishman's slave. After passing Tipton, at which place one leaves the great working district behind, I became for a considerable time a yawning, listless Englishman, without pride, enthusiasm, or feeling of any kind…

I'm not surprised. Next stop from Tipton is The Dark Place, home of The Hegemon! Birmingham was indeed an industrial powerhouse - but the workers came from all over the world, particularly Wales and Ireland. The industry is gone now - between Birmingham and Tipton is a wasteland of abandoned and demolished factories, the only vomit that of revellers - usually Gary O'D - drowning their sorrows, the only hammer the one I (literally) used on my wall on Friday night in a fruitless attempt to get my neighbour to turn his music down…

There Can Be Only One!

Only one in the post today, though I've just ordered several (second-hand), mostly for work. The one that just came is a fascinating sociological study, Empire of Dirt: The Aesthetics and Rituals of British Indie Music by an American academic, Wendy Fonarow. It'll explain all about me… and perhaps I can turn my thesis (on masculinity in 1930s Welsh political novels) into a cult hit!

I wonder how she coped with indie's boys-together sexism, and whether she's read Louise Wener's enlightening memoir, Different for Girls.

Meanwhile, Happy Birthday to my favourite Trotskyist/Libertarian Scottish speculative fiction author, Ken MacLeod (presumably from the Clan MacLeod and related to this chap).

Burroughs, Carver and Wallace Stevens died today. Not together, mind.

This'll silence you carpers

I meant to post this a while back, when unreconstructed Classic Labour MP Paul Flynn mentioned it.

It's pure genius. It's a loving tribute to Newport in all its grimy glory, and to Jay-Z's 'Empire State of Mind'. Top marks for the use of the word 'babbles' and rhyming Rap Star with Hamster.

Enough of me. All hail 'Newport (Ymerodraeth State of Mind)'. Ymerodraeth is Welsh for 'Empire'.

Careful now!

My parents are doctors, though I've never inquired about their death rates. One thing I have learned, however, is that T S Eliot was wrong. 

April is not the cruellest month: August is (or July in the US). Specifically, Death Week, which starts on Wednesday. Why? Because that's when all the new junior doctors start work, fresh from university/the beach/the pub. 

They know most of the theory (though medical degrees aren't classified, as far as I know, so you don't know whether your doctor passed the exam on your ailment, or scraped a Third or gained a glorious First) but haven't had that much practise on complicated, sick people. And they're tired, dog-tired, from the massive shifts and short naps snatched in knackered armchairs. They don't know anyone and have no idea where everything is, and there's a culture of contempt: quite a lot of senior doctors, surgeons and nurses subscribe to the trail by fire concept and like to see the new bugs struggle - my old mum has some shocking stories about her first year or so.

Mind how you go…

Air Strike!

Let's not forget, as we all disappear on holiday, the struggle of our British Airways brothers and sisters, victimised by ex-union activist turned BA CEO Willie Walsh, who has engineered a provocation in his ongoing battle to de-unionise his company and de-skill his workforce. (Oh yes, I meant to say hello to Willie, he's a regular visitor: 163.166.8.# (British Airways PLC))

Perhaps it's because he's Irish - he can't think in any terms other than Michael O'Leary's of Ryanair, a man I'd happily see swinging from a lamp-post.

I know lots of you think that the BA cabin crew have it easy (though being groped by drunk businessmen, being on your feet all day and trapped in a metal tube that shouldn't be off the ground at all isn't my idea of fun), but there's a principle here: that the pursuit of further profit at the expense of the workers is wrong, wherever it is.

As to those of you who've whinged that you don't have a union and don't see why anyone else should - shut up and sod off. We all need unions, and people in the private sector more than anyone. Form one or join one, and flex your collective muscles. Struggling as an individual a) is usually ineffective and b) any success is usually gained at the expense of your colleagues. I prefer to rise with my comrades rather than on top of them.

Up, Uppal and Away

Three months on since the election and my congratulatory note to my new MP, Paul Uppal, with a few simple and polite questions attached. Three months of silence.

Now we're well into the Parliamentary Recess (27th July until 6th September, then back for ten days then a whole month off for 'conference recess' - why can't they hold party conferences during the summer recess?) don't expect Lazy Paul to either reply to me or do much in the constituency. I strongly suspect that he doesn't live here and he's certainly gone out of his way to conceal his constituency surgeries, if indeed he holds any.

Let's review the work he's done, for which he 'earns' £65,000 per year - or, taking into account recesses, about 6 months of the year):

No committees joined.
No written questions tabled.
No dissenting votes
7 (short) speeches - mostly about himself.

He's earned a holiday alright.

PS. It's not just me: he hasn't bothered to respond to 38 Degrees' on the subject of Saving the BBC either.

Fresh hope for Man U

Anderson's on fire. Not only did he manage to hit something, but he scored too. As long as 'a farm wall' and 'an young Brazilian woman' count - his record for the Red Devils is none too impressive.

Silly boy - spends the night in a club, crams two passengers into his 2-seat car and manages to plough it into a wall in a serious crash.

You don't get this kind of behaviour at Stoke City. Mostly because if you left your car outside a club all night, it wouldn't have any wheels by the time you drunkenly tried to get it home.

Living on the shelf

I'm a bit of a collector - books and music mostly, particularly Left Book Club editions from the 1930s and 1940s, and vinyl indie stuff, but also literary theory, SF, kids' books, classical music and much else besides. I also like vintage leftwing memorabilia, such as posters and badges (if you have any, let me know). I've spent the morning transferring a pile of books like this (below) from my office desk to the shelves I've commandeered, after my new office mate gaily looked from her completely bare desk to mine and muttered that she 'couldn't work like that'. I'm trying here, I'm trying…

I thought I had a lot of stuff, until I met Mark, my colleague, who has a house literally full of 15000 books, organised on the Dewey Decimal system - there's a Maureen Lipman room, the critical theory wing, the 19th-century Women's Writing annex, and several thousand DVDs, unwrapped, to go along with the same films stored on VHS. Plus, of course, the collection of pulp books bought solely because the covers are interesting, or because the author once wrote something interesting under a different name, in a different genre.

How I admire him. Despite the lack of ceilings, safe wiring, hot water and sanitation, it's a house of fun.

But you don't have to be a squatter in your own home: ask Stewart Lee, who wrote an excellent piece on the subject of shelving in this weekend's Observer.

How does this Graber you?

Anthony Graber is a high-speed geek: the kind of man who straps a video camera to his head and goes for a ride on his motorbike.



The other gentleman in this video is a Maryland State Trooper, though he doesn't introduce himself as such until after he's waved the gun around, according to our hero. He gave Mr. Graber a citation for speeding, which seems fair enough, though the gun seems a bit excessive, though it may be normal for the US.

Then silly Mr. Graber, believing that a conversation between a policeman and a citizen isn't 'private' (because anything you say to a policeman can be presented in court, and because Maryland police officers record encounters themselves), put his tape on Youtube.

Oops. Suddenly the speeding ticket became a police raid, confiscation of his computers and 16 charges, including extra motoring offences and several wiretap violations! Hilariously, one charge refers to 'surreptitious' recording - despite the camera being stuck on Graber's head! He now faces up to 16 years in jail if the cops get their way.

I know Ewar will find some way to justify the policeman's action, but it's beyond me: encounters with public servants are just that - public - and if the police don't have anything to be ashamed of, they shouldn't object to their actions being recorded for posterity. After all, we in Britain are recorded everywhere we go. In case you're unsure, or a policeman tells you differently, the government has clarified the law: you can photograph/record the police in virtually all situations.

Thankfully, the ACLU are on the case.

The floggings will continue until moral improves

What conclusions would you draw about an institution which had one of these?

Staff Morale and Wellbeing Task & Finish Group

Mr. Orwell would be proud.