They couldn't keep it up. In a recession, even the market for Viagra softened. 2500 workers ejected from the premises because everyone's too depressed to shag or too poor to reach for the chemicals.
What did the redundancy letter say? 'This has never happened before'? 'Apply again in a few minutes?' 'It's not you, it's me'? At least the staff can steal enough stock to keep a stiff upper lip.
Feel free to pun to your heart's content in the comments section.
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Is this racist?
I know that Top Gear is deliberately designed to wind up non-driving liberal lefties like me, but is it really OK for Richard Hammond and friends to say stuff like this on television?
Britain has a long tradition of racist comedians - Davidson, Manning, perhaps Jimmy Carr, but mainstream society has moved on. The detail of this one really does put it beyond the pale: it's not a quick gag laughing at stereotypes: it's a complete list of them.
I know many of you think I'm humourless, but I really don't see why three publicly-funded bullies can say this kind of thing. If it was Davidson or Manning, or the remarks were addressed to black people or the Scots, there would be public anger. Instead, all that's happening is a stiff letter from the Ambassador, who is wide awake and not very happy.
"Why would you want a Mexican car? Because cars reflect national characteristics don't they?
"Mexican cars are just going to be lazy, feckless, flatulent, overweight, leaning against a fence asleep looking at a cactus with a blanket with a hole in the middle on as a coat."
Jeremy Clarkson and James May went on to describe Mexican food as "refried sick". Clarkson, who has repeatedly been criticised for making offensive comments on the programme, said on Sunday's show there would be no complaints this time because the Mexican ambassador would: "be sitting there with a remote control like this,". The presenter pretended to slump in a chair, snoring.
Britain has a long tradition of racist comedians - Davidson, Manning, perhaps Jimmy Carr, but mainstream society has moved on. The detail of this one really does put it beyond the pale: it's not a quick gag laughing at stereotypes: it's a complete list of them.
I know many of you think I'm humourless, but I really don't see why three publicly-funded bullies can say this kind of thing. If it was Davidson or Manning, or the remarks were addressed to black people or the Scots, there would be public anger. Instead, all that's happening is a stiff letter from the Ambassador, who is wide awake and not very happy.
I have joined the nerds
I'm so proud. I've just taken delivery of the nerdiest t-shirts ever: one popular culture, and one literary.
'It Came Out Of Nowhere': uniting popular culture across the Atlantic.
Poe's 'The Raven', in the shape of… a raven.
All from shirt.woot
An heirloom for your children to cherish
Do you have a creepy royalist relative with an unhealthy preference for young people?
Then the Franklin Mint has the PERFECT gift for the reactionary paedophile in your life. For only $150 you can acquire this cherishable porcelain statue of Princess Diana as an adult baby for your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren yea even until the fortieth generation.
This horrible, disturbing woman's head on baby's body is uncomfortably close to Viz magazine's parodies of such junk. I remember the Princess Diana English Breakfast Plate Full Of Hope, the Bernard Manning Racist Cunt Of Hearts Plate, and of course the junior Adolf Hitler doll, 'Ich Bin Ein Naughty Boy', produced by the Mitford and Mosley Mint ('proud to present a charming study of nascent evil'), which we had on our kitchen wall. You can even buy the Life Of Christ In Cats teatowel (He dried for our sins), a must for feline-loving fundamentalists.
Interestingly, nobody mentioned the royal family in class when we were discussing Britishness and Englishness (insert compulsory German/Greek joke here). Very encouraging: perhaps celebrity culture, which owed so much to Diana, has drowned the rest of them in the pit of pointlessness.
Can you remember Diana's death? I woke up early one morning, switched on the radio to hear the announcement, then went back to sleep. I was profoundly indifferent, other than to regret a violent death and the orphaning of two children. I was shocked to discover later that people I respected appeared to be mourning as though someone they knew and loved had gone, not a media confection who shopped for a living and couldn't be bothered to wear a seatbelt. It really did feel like national hysteria: no good music on the radio (except for heroic Jo Whiley, who played the Smiths' 'There is a light', perhaps forgetting the line about being crushed 'in a darkened underpass'. What made the nauseating spectacle so much worse (and let's not forget that David Cameron's such a ghoulish weirdo that as a student, he camped out on London's streets to get a view of the coffin) was the way the tabloid media switched, literally on the day she died, from treating her as a treasonous prostitute to sanctifying her as everything that was best about Britain.
She was, of course, neither. She was an uneducated toff with a vague sense of charity extricating herself from a failed teenage (astonishing, considered in hindsight) marriage and a dysfunctional family. That's quite enough to be getting on with.
If you can't get enough of Diana, she's on Twitter, from Heaven!
Vive le république!
Then the Franklin Mint has the PERFECT gift for the reactionary paedophile in your life. For only $150 you can acquire this cherishable porcelain statue of Princess Diana as an adult baby for your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren yea even until the fortieth generation.
This horrible, disturbing woman's head on baby's body is uncomfortably close to Viz magazine's parodies of such junk. I remember the Princess Diana English Breakfast Plate Full Of Hope, the Bernard Manning Racist Cunt Of Hearts Plate, and of course the junior Adolf Hitler doll, 'Ich Bin Ein Naughty Boy', produced by the Mitford and Mosley Mint ('proud to present a charming study of nascent evil'), which we had on our kitchen wall. You can even buy the Life Of Christ In Cats teatowel (He dried for our sins), a must for feline-loving fundamentalists.
Crafted in fine hand painted stuff, cheeky little Hitler is perfect in every detail. The toothbrush moustache...the chocolately mouth twisted in genocidal hatred. All yours for £199.99,
Can you remember Diana's death? I woke up early one morning, switched on the radio to hear the announcement, then went back to sleep. I was profoundly indifferent, other than to regret a violent death and the orphaning of two children. I was shocked to discover later that people I respected appeared to be mourning as though someone they knew and loved had gone, not a media confection who shopped for a living and couldn't be bothered to wear a seatbelt. It really did feel like national hysteria: no good music on the radio (except for heroic Jo Whiley, who played the Smiths' 'There is a light', perhaps forgetting the line about being crushed 'in a darkened underpass'. What made the nauseating spectacle so much worse (and let's not forget that David Cameron's such a ghoulish weirdo that as a student, he camped out on London's streets to get a view of the coffin) was the way the tabloid media switched, literally on the day she died, from treating her as a treasonous prostitute to sanctifying her as everything that was best about Britain.
She was, of course, neither. She was an uneducated toff with a vague sense of charity extricating herself from a failed teenage (astonishing, considered in hindsight) marriage and a dysfunctional family. That's quite enough to be getting on with.
If you can't get enough of Diana, she's on Twitter, from Heaven!
Vive le république!
Geography for American Conservatives
What's wrong with this image?
That's right. 'Egypt' is actually Iraq. You may have heard of it. Egypt is actually in Africa.
(Thanks to Neal).
That's right. 'Egypt' is actually Iraq. You may have heard of it. Egypt is actually in Africa.
(Thanks to Neal).
Proper teaching
I've just done a three hour session on my British Cultural Experience module. We ranged from Stuart Hall to globalisation to politics and national identity - everyone is now utterly confused about where it's located, which was my purpose.
One of the things we discussed was Bill Bryson's version of Englishness.
What do you think? I like most of the things listed here and eat/do/visit/listen to most of them, but I also think it's a very middle-to-upper class imaginary England, rooted in a past that never was: virtually nobody lives in villages for a start. It excludes so much: popular music (and most other music), curries, urban excitement, invading everyone, doing whatever America tells you, moaning about the railways and so on.
So let's hear from you, English, British or Other: what do you think of when asked to enunciate Englishness? My students' responses included queuing, pessimism, fish and chips (an East End merger between Irish and Jewish cooking), Sunday lunch and many more.
I had the great joy of introducing them to Radio 4, of which they'd never heard, and trying to define a crumpet to a Chinese student. It wasn't listed in her electronic translator! Best of all was playing them the theme tune and a couple of minutes of The Archers. Bliss!
One of the things we discussed was Bill Bryson's version of Englishness.
Marmite, village fetes, country lanes, people saying ’musn’t grumble’ and ‘I’m terribly sorry but’, people apologising to me when I conk them with a careless elbow, milk in bottles, beans on toast, haymaking in June, stinging nettles, seaside piers, Ordnance Survey maps, crumpets, hot-water bottles as a necessity, drizzly Sundays….What other nation in the world could have given us William Shakespeare, pork pies, Christopher Wren, Windsor Great Park, the Open University, Gardeners’ Question Time’ and the chocolate digestive biscuit? (Bryson 1996, p.351)
What do you think? I like most of the things listed here and eat/do/visit/listen to most of them, but I also think it's a very middle-to-upper class imaginary England, rooted in a past that never was: virtually nobody lives in villages for a start. It excludes so much: popular music (and most other music), curries, urban excitement, invading everyone, doing whatever America tells you, moaning about the railways and so on.
So let's hear from you, English, British or Other: what do you think of when asked to enunciate Englishness? My students' responses included queuing, pessimism, fish and chips (an East End merger between Irish and Jewish cooking), Sunday lunch and many more.
I had the great joy of introducing them to Radio 4, of which they'd never heard, and trying to define a crumpet to a Chinese student. It wasn't listed in her electronic translator! Best of all was playing them the theme tune and a couple of minutes of The Archers. Bliss!
Monday, 31 January 2011
Dagnabbit, Babbitt!
Milton Babbitt's dead. He may not mean much to you, but to me he was a hero - a serialist composer of infinite depth, an early electronic pioneer, and one of the first modernists I ever discovered. He's a cerebral kind of composer, though there's plenty for the emotions here, even a kind of beauty sometimes.
The Queen Is Dead, Long Live The King
White smoke has appeared from the stately chimneys of The Hegemon. Habemus Vice-Cancellariam cheer the loyal drones as we throng the central quadrangle.
Yes, we've appointed a new Vice-Chancellor. Here he is.
A half-holiday is hereby announced for all.
Yes, we've appointed a new Vice-Chancellor. Here he is.
A half-holiday is hereby announced for all.
The middle-east's only democracy?
One of the claims Israel makes for itself is that it's the area's only functioning democracy. It's a dubious claim: military leaders habitually become politicians, large numbers of indigenous Palestinians can't vote, unlimited immigration (Jews only) makes sure that Zionist parties are always assured of the numbers, and parties fracture and merge like a kaleidoscope. But still - they have elections and the results are observed.
It turns out now, that the Israeli government and commentariat are far less keen on democracy than on their continued unchallenged and illegal annexation of Palestine. The government has ordered its ministers to keep silent about Egypt for fear of enraging the Egyptian people even further. Into the void steps the newspaper columnist. They don't like democracy, not one bit, because they know that Egyptians - for good or ill - don't like Israel. They'd much rather the Americans Imperium upheld the dictatorship:
Astonishing. Why on earth should the head of an independent state be 'loyal' to another state? Shouldn't, in fact, a government intend to win 'popular opinion'?
Don't worry, I'm only being deliberately naive. In the real world, the US must continue as the Empire, never question Israel and never allow the desires of mere citizens interfere with realpolitik. Democracy is just something to drop on your enemies, not your puppets.
It turns out now, that the Israeli government and commentariat are far less keen on democracy than on their continued unchallenged and illegal annexation of Palestine. The government has ordered its ministers to keep silent about Egypt for fear of enraging the Egyptian people even further. Into the void steps the newspaper columnist. They don't like democracy, not one bit, because they know that Egyptians - for good or ill - don't like Israel. They'd much rather the Americans Imperium upheld the dictatorship:
One comment by Aviad Pohoryles in the daily Maariv was entitled "A Bullet in the Back from Uncle Sam". It accused Obama and his secretary of state Hillary Clinton of pursuing a naive, smug, and insular diplomacy heedless of the risks.
Who is advising them, he asked, "to fuel the mob raging in the streets of Egypt and to demand the head of the person who five minutes ago was the bold ally of the president ... an almost lone voice of sanity in a Middle East?"
"The politically correct diplomacy of American presidents throughout the generations ... is painfully naive."I doubt the average inhabitant of an Egyptian torture chamber would describe Mubarak as the voice of sanity.
Writing in Haaretz, Ari Shavit said Obama had betrayed "a moderate Egyptian president who remained loyal to the United States, promoted stability and encouraged moderation".
To win popular Arab opinion, Obama was risking America's status as a superpower and reliable ally.
"Throughout Asia, Africa and South America, leaders are now looking at what is going on between Washington and Cairo. Everyone grasps the message: "America's word is worthless ... America has lost it."
Astonishing. Why on earth should the head of an independent state be 'loyal' to another state? Shouldn't, in fact, a government intend to win 'popular opinion'?
Don't worry, I'm only being deliberately naive. In the real world, the US must continue as the Empire, never question Israel and never allow the desires of mere citizens interfere with realpolitik. Democracy is just something to drop on your enemies, not your puppets.
Meanwhile, meet the new Vice-President of Egypt. What a nice man:
Suleiman took a personal interest in anyone suspected of links with Al Qaeda. As Habib had visited Afghanistan shortly before 9/11, he was under suspicion. Habib was repeatedly zapped with high-voltage electricity, immersed in water up to his nostrils, beaten, his fingers were broken and he was hung from metal hooks.
That treatment wasn't enough for Suleiman, so:
To loosen Habib's tongue, Suleiman ordered a guard to murder a gruesomely shackled Turkistan prisoner in front of Habib – and he did, with a vicious karate kick.
Keep on rocking
After the excitement of almost starting the revolution in Manchester, I found myself crammed into the back of a car with four nerdy pensioners, off to see Richard Thompson at Warwick Arts Centre.
If you don't know his work, he sounds like a nostalgia act: Thompson started out in folk-rock pioneers Fairport Convention in the 60s. Then he became a solo folkie, then a double-act with his wife Linda. Then he went rock in the 80s and indie in the 90s. He holds the record for the least copies sold on a major label (Henry the Human Fly, Warner, 1972)
What marks him out from all the other heritage acts is that you don't go to see Thompson hoping he'll reel out all the Fairport tracks or whatever (though it didn't stop my friends high-fiving each other when he played their favourites, sadly). Thompson's still writing fantastic, full-on rock and pop songs which are every bit as good as his back catalogue. Saturday's show was a loud electric affair, in which the new material really stood up. Highly recommended.
More pictures here or click on these ones to enlarge.
If you don't know his work, he sounds like a nostalgia act: Thompson started out in folk-rock pioneers Fairport Convention in the 60s. Then he became a solo folkie, then a double-act with his wife Linda. Then he went rock in the 80s and indie in the 90s. He holds the record for the least copies sold on a major label (Henry the Human Fly, Warner, 1972)
What marks him out from all the other heritage acts is that you don't go to see Thompson hoping he'll reel out all the Fairport tracks or whatever (though it didn't stop my friends high-fiving each other when he played their favourites, sadly). Thompson's still writing fantastic, full-on rock and pop songs which are every bit as good as his back catalogue. Saturday's show was a loud electric affair, in which the new material really stood up. Highly recommended.
More pictures here or click on these ones to enlarge.
This is Richard Thompson
Look into my eye…
Just a few more demonstration pictures
The rest are here. Click on these ones to enlarge
Definitely not a capitalist running dog
I took several shots of this magnificently bequiffed man
Mean, but I couldn't resist.
How cute! Even primary school kids hate Nick Clegg
They followed the cops around all day with this sign
Moody, huh?
I ain't marching any more
(Actually, I just wanted to quote Phil Ochs, one of my heroes).
Good old Karl. He was a fencer too.
Fast work! If a little tasteless. None of the cops shot at us, or turned up in tanks.
Gets straight to the point.
I really liked this one.
I've played with this one quite a lot. I really like it.
What would his mother say?
Nothing that happened warranted masks, but it's a good look. The hair and eye colours really work in this shot.
Rally for Youth
I went on a rally on Saturday, organised by my union (UCU), the National Union of Students, and the TUC.
It wasn't brilliant. It started a mile outside Manchester city centre, in the university quarter, which seemed fair enough. Unfortunately, it then headed another mile or so out of the city to a nondescript park miles from anywhere. My colleagues were disapproving of the attempted breakaway march which headed for the city centre, but I was rather jealous of them.
The initial gathering seemed less like a rally and more like an opportunity for rival newspaper sellers to flog copies of their sectarian rags to each other: the Morning Star looked like the paper of record next to Socialist Worker, The Socialist, Worker's Hammer, The Spartacist (in several languages) and a range of even more exotic publications seemingly more concerned with attacking the historical theoretical errors of their rivals. The hot news in one paper was that POUM were traitors… in the Spanish Civil War. (Wrong, and hardly a pressing issue today).
There were some good placards and costumes, and plenty of underage kids dressed like 1970s German anarchists, which is a good thing. There were far too many police officers (glad to see some workers are still getting overtime), but they were pretty good-humoured. I listened to an officer briefing his grunts, and he made it clear to them that the focus was on safety and letting the march happen.
It was all very good-natured and fun, though people were slightly jittery about photographers, and I wondered how many of the marchers were undercover cops. I did ask my colleagues to promise they weren't spies sleeping their way through the movement, but their cover stories held. I particularly enjoyed being accosted by some micro-sect young idiot who pressed on me a sheet of closely-typed nonsense about the trades unions being the bureaucratic henchment of fake socialist governments. I did point out to him that I am a trades union bureaucrat, but he didn't seem very interested in the question of how workers can be fought for on a daily basis without trades unions. I've spent the past year doing casework for a very vulnerable colleague: poring over contracts, negotiating with management, seeing specialists, drafting opinions. All very bureaucratic, but without bores like me, my client might well be out of a job.
Anyway, here are some pictures, and the rest are here. Click on these ones to enlarge them.
It wasn't brilliant. It started a mile outside Manchester city centre, in the university quarter, which seemed fair enough. Unfortunately, it then headed another mile or so out of the city to a nondescript park miles from anywhere. My colleagues were disapproving of the attempted breakaway march which headed for the city centre, but I was rather jealous of them.
The initial gathering seemed less like a rally and more like an opportunity for rival newspaper sellers to flog copies of their sectarian rags to each other: the Morning Star looked like the paper of record next to Socialist Worker, The Socialist, Worker's Hammer, The Spartacist (in several languages) and a range of even more exotic publications seemingly more concerned with attacking the historical theoretical errors of their rivals. The hot news in one paper was that POUM were traitors… in the Spanish Civil War. (Wrong, and hardly a pressing issue today).
There were some good placards and costumes, and plenty of underage kids dressed like 1970s German anarchists, which is a good thing. There were far too many police officers (glad to see some workers are still getting overtime), but they were pretty good-humoured. I listened to an officer briefing his grunts, and he made it clear to them that the focus was on safety and letting the march happen.
It was all very good-natured and fun, though people were slightly jittery about photographers, and I wondered how many of the marchers were undercover cops. I did ask my colleagues to promise they weren't spies sleeping their way through the movement, but their cover stories held. I particularly enjoyed being accosted by some micro-sect young idiot who pressed on me a sheet of closely-typed nonsense about the trades unions being the bureaucratic henchment of fake socialist governments. I did point out to him that I am a trades union bureaucrat, but he didn't seem very interested in the question of how workers can be fought for on a daily basis without trades unions. I've spent the past year doing casework for a very vulnerable colleague: poring over contracts, negotiating with management, seeing specialists, drafting opinions. All very bureaucratic, but without bores like me, my client might well be out of a job.
Anyway, here are some pictures, and the rest are here. Click on these ones to enlarge them.
This just in…
V for Vendetta boy
There was a very simple chant to go with this one: "I say Nick Clegg, you say Dick Head'
What a tragic scenester. I'd double his fees.
All together now, aaaahhhhhh. Isn't he sweet?
Harry Potter and the Adolescent Hormones
Aaron Porter, NUS president, isn't very popular
He shoots, he scores
My friends, I can't express how much fun it was to watch Stoke City play Wolverhampton Wanderers in the FA Cup yesterday. Emma and I wandered along, had a beer beforehand, and took our seats next to a man who deserves a big medal for not managing to say anything positive about his team for the entire 89 minutes (he left before full time).
Good things about the Wolves ground: excellent cheese and potato pie. And the toilets. I knew things had moved on from the days when fans would just pee onto the terrace until a pleasing yellow waterfall effect was achieved, but I was stunned by the space, cleanliness and all-round sparkle of the men's loos.
The same could not be said of the first half of the match. Stoke were totally dominant in the set-pieces, while Wolves seemed better in the open play, though they did massively prefer to pass the ball back rather than try to score goals. That said, they did have the majority of the (few) chances in the first half. I politely applauded each competent Wolves move and tried not to openly eat oatcakes and throw pots.
The second half was loads better - both managers had obviously given their players the hairdryer treatment. The quality wasn't entirely apparent, but the effort was. Wolves had several threatening runs, but no finishing quality. Then late on, Stoke's Robert Huth (he's roughly 4 times my height) rose to meet a corner and headed in a great goal, which I was forced to acknowledge with a rueful shake of the head rather than a 'proper mental', which the Stoke fans opposite me did indulge in.
They were in good form - 4000 of them and only 7000 Wolves fans. 'Delilah' rang out many times, whereas the Wolves fans only managed 'We're the boys from the Black Country' once, preferring to sing 'Boring' at Rory Delap's wondrous long throws and 'You Fat Bastard' at Stoke's goalie, Thomas Sorensen. I thought that was a bit cheeky: fans from officially Britain's fattest region singing that to a lean professional athlete. Funny though.
The last few minutes were - in Alex Ferguson's words - 'squeaky-bum time': frenetic attacks from Wolves, one needing a fantastic save from Sorensen. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when Wolves were awarded a penalty - nobody saves those - but Sorensen did, and the Wolves fans started to stream out of the ground.
Not a classic match, but a decent one, and a brilliant afternoon out. Here's a professional's report.
Good things about the Wolves ground: excellent cheese and potato pie. And the toilets. I knew things had moved on from the days when fans would just pee onto the terrace until a pleasing yellow waterfall effect was achieved, but I was stunned by the space, cleanliness and all-round sparkle of the men's loos.
The same could not be said of the first half of the match. Stoke were totally dominant in the set-pieces, while Wolves seemed better in the open play, though they did massively prefer to pass the ball back rather than try to score goals. That said, they did have the majority of the (few) chances in the first half. I politely applauded each competent Wolves move and tried not to openly eat oatcakes and throw pots.
The second half was loads better - both managers had obviously given their players the hairdryer treatment. The quality wasn't entirely apparent, but the effort was. Wolves had several threatening runs, but no finishing quality. Then late on, Stoke's Robert Huth (he's roughly 4 times my height) rose to meet a corner and headed in a great goal, which I was forced to acknowledge with a rueful shake of the head rather than a 'proper mental', which the Stoke fans opposite me did indulge in.
They were in good form - 4000 of them and only 7000 Wolves fans. 'Delilah' rang out many times, whereas the Wolves fans only managed 'We're the boys from the Black Country' once, preferring to sing 'Boring' at Rory Delap's wondrous long throws and 'You Fat Bastard' at Stoke's goalie, Thomas Sorensen. I thought that was a bit cheeky: fans from officially Britain's fattest region singing that to a lean professional athlete. Funny though.
The last few minutes were - in Alex Ferguson's words - 'squeaky-bum time': frenetic attacks from Wolves, one needing a fantastic save from Sorensen. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when Wolves were awarded a penalty - nobody saves those - but Sorensen did, and the Wolves fans started to stream out of the ground.
Not a classic match, but a decent one, and a brilliant afternoon out. Here's a professional's report.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Here we go, for Fox' sake
Fresh from supporting Sarah Palin's claim that the Founding Fathers abolished slavery (they didn't: they owned slaves), Fox 'News' has just used the magic words to describe Egypt's uprising:
I guess Fox never met a dictator it didn't like. For the record, every other media outlet and the eyewitness statements I've had from friends all agree: it's not the Islamist Muslim Brotherhood fuelling the rebellion: they've reluctantly agreed to support it after a day sitting on the sidelines. It's a mass of unemployed, bright, secular young people. But for Fox, all Arabs are terrorists unless they're our Arabs. Fox probably thinks the Three Kings are still in charge.
"You probably don't give a lot of time thinking about Egypt," a Fox News presenter suggested about an hour ago, before explaining that "groups linked to al-Qaida" were in danger of taking over the government in Cairo.
I guess Fox never met a dictator it didn't like. For the record, every other media outlet and the eyewitness statements I've had from friends all agree: it's not the Islamist Muslim Brotherhood fuelling the rebellion: they've reluctantly agreed to support it after a day sitting on the sidelines. It's a mass of unemployed, bright, secular young people. But for Fox, all Arabs are terrorists unless they're our Arabs. Fox probably thinks the Three Kings are still in charge.
Dance-off, Soviet Style
From a 1941 propaganda film. I gather the music is more recent. Have a good weekend.
Another dull weekend…
I have a huge amount of work to do this weekend: writing lectures and planning seminars. However, I'm finding time to do a few pleasant things:
Rally for Jobs and Education in Manchester: meet outside the Museum on Oxford Road, 10.30 a.m. It'll be boringly tame, but it's important to remind the government that we've neither forgiven nor forgotten. Come along! There's a big one planned for London as well which might be a little more interesting.
Then it's off to see Richard Thompson play a gig in Warwick: he's the backbone of Britain's folk movement. I've seen him a few times and always enjoyed it. Here's June Tabor singing 'Out of Winter' and then Thompson's 'Waltzing's for Dreamers', one of my favourite songs.
Finally, Sunday lunchtime sees Emma and I off to watch Wolves v. Stoke in a cup match. Unfortunately, we could only get tickets in the Wolves end, so I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut as Tuncay smashes his eighth goal past a static Wolves goalie. Alternatively, they could win. I just don't know.
Rally for Jobs and Education in Manchester: meet outside the Museum on Oxford Road, 10.30 a.m. It'll be boringly tame, but it's important to remind the government that we've neither forgiven nor forgotten. Come along! There's a big one planned for London as well which might be a little more interesting.
Then it's off to see Richard Thompson play a gig in Warwick: he's the backbone of Britain's folk movement. I've seen him a few times and always enjoyed it. Here's June Tabor singing 'Out of Winter' and then Thompson's 'Waltzing's for Dreamers', one of my favourite songs.
Finally, Sunday lunchtime sees Emma and I off to watch Wolves v. Stoke in a cup match. Unfortunately, we could only get tickets in the Wolves end, so I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut as Tuncay smashes his eighth goal past a static Wolves goalie. Alternatively, they could win. I just don't know.
Socialism and Sex
I thought that would get your attention.
It's a chapter-heading in a book given to my by a colleague: Revolutionary Socialism by Arnold Lunn, published by the Right Book Club. The RBC was a counter-operation to the Left Book Club. It was far less successful, partly because being on the right is just plain evil, and because the texts chosen weren't much good - mostly memoirs by ex-socialists explaining how they were converted. I collect them when I see them, but I'm far more interested in LBC books - if you see them (orange paperbacks, pink hardbacks) get them for me and I'll pay you back.
Lunn himself was quite interesting - obviously very bright, but he devoted his life to mountaineering, skiing and being rightwing: such sports were commonly associated with fascism in the interwar period. His father founded the famous but now disappeared Lunn-Poly holiday company. Like many English rich conservatives, he converted to Catholicism, despite his father being a Methodist preacher.
Part of his objection to socialism is its materialism: he couldn't stand the idea that we are determined by physical processes (chemistry etc.)
So anyway, what did he think about socialism and sex? It's only a short (11 pages) unillustrated chapter. Apparently, the socialist's "creed leads inevitably to promiscuity". I must confess that this has not hitherto been my experience. Rather the opposite. For real promiscuity, I suggest that Lunn should consider the case of Sir Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British Union of Fascists, who had more sexual partners than voters.
Lunn does admit that the Communist Manifesto looks to the liberation of women and that Lenin was 'ascetic' and opposed to promiscuity. He does, however, claim that 'revolutionary movements have a disastrous effect' on moral standards. Really? Ask the Iranians. More to the point, the 'free love' lot were a tiny minority. The British Communist Party was famously conservative and moralistic - their efforts kept 'licentious' American comics out of Britain in the 1950s, and they lost out to the hippy-influenced New Left because they didn't like rock, long hair, marijuana and sex.
To Lunn, though, revolution and 'immorality' go together because weak-minded people would rather blame repressive society for their sexual incontinence than accept responsibility, while revolutionaries will encourage anybody who rebels.
Then he takes a rather illogical turn. After claiming that communists are promiscuous, and accepting that their leaders reject promiscuity, he claims that people become socialists because they're 'sex-frustrated' or feminists, ready to throw away their honour, give their own surnames to their children before being exploited by the revolutionaries. Added to this, he claims that France's socialist leader, M. Blum, is a promoter of incest. Rather confusingly, he then condemns the Spanish socialists for declaring that 'arousing the sexual feelings of another… amounted to a gross and palpable interference'.
In the end, Lunn's objection to socialist sex is that it implies atheism. Easy marriage and easy divorce stem from a rejection of the eternal rules imposed on us by God, whereas a Christian believes that 'eternal happiness' in heaven 'must not be jeopardized to escape from the discomfort of an unhappy marriage'. So suck up the misery and think of the angels!
Women, of course, are both more important and less noteworthy than men. Or more clearly: women don't matter, but female virginity does: 'when women enjoy the same sex liberties as men, the ancient doctrine of virginity topples down like a heap of snow struck by rock. There is nothing to hold it together. Chastity… is no longer a badge of honour or glory'.
Men, of course, are exempt. Carry on shagging, chaps!
Thankfully, concludes Mr. Lunn - quoting Joad - these rampant atheists will get what's coming to them: 'they are very unhappy, and the suicide rate is abnormally high'.
So that's all right then.
It's a chapter-heading in a book given to my by a colleague: Revolutionary Socialism by Arnold Lunn, published by the Right Book Club. The RBC was a counter-operation to the Left Book Club. It was far less successful, partly because being on the right is just plain evil, and because the texts chosen weren't much good - mostly memoirs by ex-socialists explaining how they were converted. I collect them when I see them, but I'm far more interested in LBC books - if you see them (orange paperbacks, pink hardbacks) get them for me and I'll pay you back.
Lunn himself was quite interesting - obviously very bright, but he devoted his life to mountaineering, skiing and being rightwing: such sports were commonly associated with fascism in the interwar period. His father founded the famous but now disappeared Lunn-Poly holiday company. Like many English rich conservatives, he converted to Catholicism, despite his father being a Methodist preacher.
Part of his objection to socialism is its materialism: he couldn't stand the idea that we are determined by physical processes (chemistry etc.)
So anyway, what did he think about socialism and sex? It's only a short (11 pages) unillustrated chapter. Apparently, the socialist's "creed leads inevitably to promiscuity". I must confess that this has not hitherto been my experience. Rather the opposite. For real promiscuity, I suggest that Lunn should consider the case of Sir Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British Union of Fascists, who had more sexual partners than voters.
Lunn does admit that the Communist Manifesto looks to the liberation of women and that Lenin was 'ascetic' and opposed to promiscuity. He does, however, claim that 'revolutionary movements have a disastrous effect' on moral standards. Really? Ask the Iranians. More to the point, the 'free love' lot were a tiny minority. The British Communist Party was famously conservative and moralistic - their efforts kept 'licentious' American comics out of Britain in the 1950s, and they lost out to the hippy-influenced New Left because they didn't like rock, long hair, marijuana and sex.
To Lunn, though, revolution and 'immorality' go together because weak-minded people would rather blame repressive society for their sexual incontinence than accept responsibility, while revolutionaries will encourage anybody who rebels.
Then he takes a rather illogical turn. After claiming that communists are promiscuous, and accepting that their leaders reject promiscuity, he claims that people become socialists because they're 'sex-frustrated' or feminists, ready to throw away their honour, give their own surnames to their children before being exploited by the revolutionaries. Added to this, he claims that France's socialist leader, M. Blum, is a promoter of incest. Rather confusingly, he then condemns the Spanish socialists for declaring that 'arousing the sexual feelings of another… amounted to a gross and palpable interference'.
In the end, Lunn's objection to socialist sex is that it implies atheism. Easy marriage and easy divorce stem from a rejection of the eternal rules imposed on us by God, whereas a Christian believes that 'eternal happiness' in heaven 'must not be jeopardized to escape from the discomfort of an unhappy marriage'. So suck up the misery and think of the angels!
Women, of course, are both more important and less noteworthy than men. Or more clearly: women don't matter, but female virginity does: 'when women enjoy the same sex liberties as men, the ancient doctrine of virginity topples down like a heap of snow struck by rock. There is nothing to hold it together. Chastity… is no longer a badge of honour or glory'.
Men, of course, are exempt. Carry on shagging, chaps!
Thankfully, concludes Mr. Lunn - quoting Joad - these rampant atheists will get what's coming to them: 'they are very unhappy, and the suicide rate is abnormally high'.
So that's all right then.
Mubarak 'not a dictator' says US Vice-President
You and I may think that being 'elected' by banning all other candidates in 4 out of 5 votes (the fifth was rigged and the only opposition candidate was sent to prison), running the country under 'Emergency Law' since 1967 - extended police powers, constitution suspended, censorship imposed, freedom of assembly banned, political parties banned, habeas corpus suspended, 30,000 political prisoners, parliamentary elections banned - might constitute dictatorship.
The Vice-President of the USA begs to differ. He thinks that the man to whom the US gives $1.2bn in military aid is a cuddly chap, mostly because he's friendly to Israel:
What does the US Ambassador to Egypt say about her hosts? Well, according to a Wikileaked cable, it's not a very cuddly government:
The Vice-President of the USA begs to differ. He thinks that the man to whom the US gives $1.2bn in military aid is a cuddly chap, mostly because he's friendly to Israel:
"Mubarak has been an ally of ours in a number of things. And he's been very responsible on, relative to geopolitical interest in the region, the Middle East peace efforts; the actions Egypt has taken relative to normalizing relationship with - with Israel. ... I would not refer to him as a dictator..."Got it, protestors? Your rights aren't important: it's the US's geopolitical interests which will determine whether you get a new government.
What does the US Ambassador to Egypt say about her hosts? Well, according to a Wikileaked cable, it's not a very cuddly government:
Torture and police brutality in Egypt are endemic and widespread. The police use brutal methods mostly against common criminals to extract confessions, but also against demonstrators, certain political prisoners and unfortunate bystanders. One human rights lawyer told us there is evidence of torture in Egypt dating back to the times of the Pharaohs.
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