Bad Apples

I'm such an idiot. My office has windows and a door (obviously). When the wind's blowing, the unequal air pressure sends things flying.

Today, what went flying when a colleague walked in was one of my framed pictures. What it hit was my lovely Apple MacBook Pro. Terrible cracks in the glass and a dent in the body. The machine's still working, but I' m looking at £150+ repairs. I'm such an idiot. What a waste of a large amount of money. Looks like the book diet's back on.

Nets full of books

Some excellent publications reach me today.

The new issue of the London Review of Books (it's not just book reviews, but it is from London).

Geoffrey Trease's Bows Against The Barons: a reprint (can't afford the original) of a 1934 Communist-ish version of the Robin Hood story. I intend to put it up with various aristocratic versions in one of my modules to trace the class tension in this legend.

Alfred Fairbank's A Book of Scripts - a stunning 1955 hardcover illustrated reprint of a book about handwriting and the evolution of scripts. Yes, I know nobody writes anything by hand anymore, but it's still interesting and beautiful. There are all sorts of interesting things about our ascent to literacy: did you know that we still have no firm idea about whether people ever read silently until the 18th century?

Sharon O'Dair's Class, Critics and Shakespeare: Bottom Lines on the Culture Wars. Why did Shakespeare become the property of the toffs?

John Le Carré's new one, Our Kind of Traitor. His Cold War spy novels worked on the basis that you couldn't trust your side or their's, and that morality, loyalty, patriotism and ideology were all mutable and untrustworthy - the end of the Cold War didn't kill this stuff off - he's become more relevant (and even more passionate).

Finally, and mostly to drive my office colleagues out of the room, Stockhausen's Mantra. Does anyone else think he looks like Andrew Marr?

Other peoples' lives

One of the things I love is the serendipity which arises from casual use of language. I saw this in a supermarket small ad this weekend:

One pram for sale. Ex-con used once.

Delightful. What a backstory. Why did an ex-con use it just once? Was it his getaway vehicle? Was he caught? Or did he go straight after using it for one final job, wheeling away ingots of gold wrapped up in a baby-gro?

Or perhaps 'ex-con' means 'excellent condition'. In which case, a much sadder tale unfolds. Why use a pram only once unless death, adoption or social services or some other separation intervene?

And a big hello to Conservative Central Office

I imagine they're on the phone to Paul Uppal this morning, asking for a little clarification, given that they're reading all my blog posts on the weaselly construction industry shill and his untrue statements to Parliament. Enjoy your reading, boys!

chugai-pharm.co.uk ? (U.K.)
IP Address		194.203.158.# (Conservative Central Office)

Visit Entry Page		http://plashingvole....l-you-are-awful.html
Visit Exit Page		http://plashingvole....l-you-are-awful.html

Another day, another rejection

You may recall that I recently applied for the post of Head of BBC North, on the assumption that as Peter Salmon, the current postholder, refused to actually move to the North, there was a vacancy.

Unfortunately (for me), Mr. Salmon has had a partial rethink, according to the letter I received from the head of the BBC, Mark Thompson (and full marks to him for replying to my teasing and for standing up for the BBC recently):

Dear Dr [Vole]

Thank you for your email.

BBC North's objective is to serve and represent audiences across the whole of the UK. It will deliver locally made, high quality content for every platform using the latest innovations in technology. BBC North will also lead the way in training and developing local talent, building on the rich mix of skills and experience already available in the North of England. It will also renew and forge new partnerships with organisations across the North of England to bring the BBC closer to the public. 

Peter Salmon is leading the BBC's move to the North and already spends a considerable amount of time in Salford. In the short term he will be renting a flat in Salford Quays, due to existing family commitments. This means he will not take up any other relocation assistance from the BBC when he moves at a later date.

When Peter does travel to and from Salford, he travels by train in standard class. 

Best wishes

Mark Thompson

I think the move to Salford is a great idea, for the BBC and for the area, which sorely needs economic regeneration, even at the cost of serving lattés to southerners in designer glasses. As long as it doesn't become a kind of Siberian gulag for the unfashionable bits of the BBC, it should be a cultural eye-opener for the nation's media and a mark of confidence in the North.

Until recently, the Irish government tried to rebalance the economy away from Dublin (which has dragged half the entire country's population into its environs) by posting government departments to different towns and cities. I thought this was a brilliant idea - Ireland's a small place, and the e-revolution means that we're never far away from each other in practical terms - but it failed because snobby civil servants and their political masters missed the bright lights, the cosy bars and easy access to bribes meetings with 'opinion formers'. Now there's no economy anywhere in Ireland of course, so the decentralisation push has run into the sand.

On the subject of Ireland's politicians, decide for yourself whether - on the basis of this clip - the Taoiseach (Prime Minister) is drunk in charge during this 8 a.m. interview last week.

If it's Monday, it's Uppal Day

Yes, it's that time of the day when I crack my knuckles and ponder new ways to keep my errant MP honest. 


Firstly, a correction. I implied on Friday that his company, Pinehurst Securities, might be in trouble, which seems to be wrong. My fault for relying on a commercial credit-check site rather than going to the Companies House information. Thanks to my Deep Throat for that information. 


On to business:


Dear Mr Speaker,

I would like to draw your attention to statements made in the House by Mr. Paul Uppal, Member for [The Dark Place]. He has made repeated claims that he has been the victim of electoral fraud. In particular, and most recently, he told the house on 15th September 2010 (HC Deb, 15 September 2010, c896):

I ask the Minister to take on board my deep concern about postal voting fraud. Although I welcome individual registration, I fear that it will not wholly tackle that problem, to which I have referred before.

In my constituency-I must choose my words carefully, because the case is currently being investigated by the Electoral Commission-200 more votes were cast than electoral ballots were issued. I want to impress on the Minister a point that was raised with me recently by a constituent. He said that Labour Members were going from door to door asking if people wanted them to help them to fill out postal voting forms.

I have written to Mr. Uppal to ask him whether he has reported his suspicion to the Police: he has not replied, despite some months passing since he first raised the matter in the House - certainly the local media have no knowledge of any investigation. 

I now believe that he has - perhaps deliberately - misled the House on this matter. I wrote to the Electoral Commission asking whether they were indeed investigating any instances of electoral fraud in this constituency. They replied:

The Commission is not investigating any allegation of fraud in Wolverhampton South West. We made initial enquiries about an error in the count at the 2010 general election. However the matter was closed with no further action as a result of all parties accepting the result of the count.

In a subsequent letter, the EC informed me that:

We are aware of Mr. Uppal's MP statement and we will be contacting him to clarify the matter with him.

As far as I can see from these statements, Mr. Uppal knew from very soon after his victory in May 2010 that no investigation was ongoing. Could you therefore look into this matter, as I'm concerned that the reputation of the constituency is besmirched by unfounded innuendo of this sort, and that the House has been misinformed for partisan purposes? 

Yours,

The Plashing Vole

A little more Uppal for your delectation

I mentioned a while ago that Uppal is chair of the All Party Urban Development Group, which seems to see itself as the voice of property developers rather than advocates of sane and balanced town planning.


I asked Mr Uppal what his business interests were - he declined to tell me, so I look forward to the Register of Members' Interests. 


But he has been talking to an industry rag, and he's spilled some beans:

Uppal, who owns £10m of property in the south-east with Pinehurst Securities, says he went for the British Property Federation role because he understands the politics of property.

That's funny. I thought a Parliamentary Group was meant to communicate the views of constituents and experts, not shill for the industry. 

How's he going to save the economy?

He also wants to wage war on empty rates:

“It is a national problem. It has done huge damage, and it’s urgent this is turned around.”

He's going to abolish taxes on people/corporations who've left property empty. The utter, utter, Tory Scum.

the All Party Urban Development Group, which has been lent administrative support by the British Property Foundation and informs government about the role of property in the wider economy.

Ah. I see now. It is a fully-bribed mouthpiece for property developers. Of which Uppal is one.

The arrogance with which Property Week describes a Parliamentary position as 'the British Property Federation role' is breathtaking - they won't be open to alternative ideas.  Well done sir. God helps those who help themselves. Nice to see you're not bothered about investing in your constituency, by the way. 

Not sure what 'the role of property in the wider economy' means. It sure as hell won't be pointing out that the headlong rush for property ownership has beggared us all and frozen the young and poor out of home ownership for generations.

Oh yes: and for all this talk of £10 million, his company appears to be in some trouble, if this is it, and I think it is, with its local address.

Top work, Uppal.

Ooh Mr Uppal, you are awful

Update: hello Tory Central Office! Enjoy your reading. Stick around, educate yourselves. You selfish, greedy, polluting, arrogant, self-interested, narcissistic scum. 

I think I've caught out Mr Uppal in a little bit of sharp practice, to put it mildly. He told Parliament (15th September):

I ask the Minister to take on board my deep concern about postal voting fraud. Although I welcome individual registration, I fear that it will not wholly tackle that problem, to which I have referred before.

In my constituency-I must choose my words carefully, because the case is currently being investigated by the Electoral Commission-200 more votes were cast than electoral ballots were issued. I want to impress on the Minister a point that was raised with me recently by a constituent. He said that Labour Members were going from door to door asking if people wanted them to help them to fill out postal voting forms.

So I asked the Electoral Commission:

Can you inform me whether you are investigating any complaints about electoral fraud in Wolverhampton South West in relation to the 2010 General Election?

They said (my emphasis):

Thank you for your email to the Electoral Commission.

The Commission is not investigating any allegation of fraud in Wolverhampton South West. We made initial enquiries about an error in the count at the 2010 general election. However the matter was closed with no further action as a result of all parties accepting the result of the count.

Oh dear. Lazy Paul hasn't been quite careful enough with his words. The EC isn't 'investigating' at all. He used the word 'fraud', whereas the EC and all the candidates, including him, officially agreed that 'an error' was insignificant.

Now I don't want to rush to judgement (until my Freedom of Information request to the West Midlands Police comes back) but it looks to me like Uppal's playing silly beggars and abusing his position as an MP. What do you reckon?

Update: fresh from the Electoral Commission:

Dear [Vole],

We are aware of Mr. Uppal MP statement and we will be contacting him to clarify the matter with him.

Kind Regards

The house of books rises higher

I read Karen Jankulak's very lucid new Writers of Wales critical biography of Geoffrey of Monmouth today - he's the guy who really got Arthur out of Wales and onto the European stage, and an early historian of pre-Saxon Britain, though his historical approach is to do as much diligent research as possible, then make the rest up. His work, especially Historia Brittonum, is therefore highly readable. 


More books turned up today - all for work. Volume 1 of Caryl Churchill's plays, including Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, based on Gerrard Winstanley's Christian Communist efforts at land reform during the English Civil War period. 


Levine's Highbrow/Lowbrow, about the development in America of the divide between cultural activities - very useful for talking about Shakespeare, literature and class. 





Out of a sense of completeness rather than joy, Deborah Devonshire's Wait for Me - she's the last (and least interesting) Mitford sister. 


Also, some old Terry Eagleton essays, Against the Grain, mostly for his Land of Hope and Glory rewrite, 'The Ballad of English Literature"

Chaucer was a class traitor 

Shakespeare hated the mob 

Donne sold out a bit later 

Sidney was a nob

Marlowe was an elitist 

Ben Jonson was much the same 

Bunyan was a defeatist 

Dryden played the game

There’s a sniff of reaction 

About Alexander Pope 

Sam Johnson was a Tory 

And Walter Scott a dope

Coleridge was a right winger 

Keats was lower middle class 

Wordsworth was a cringer 

But William Blake was a gas

Dickens was a reformist 

Tennyson was a blue 

Disraeli was mostly pissed 

And nothing that Trollope said was true

Willy Yeats was a fascist 

So were Eliot and Pound 

Lawrence was a sexist 

Virginia Woolf was unsound

There are only three names 

To be plucked from this dismal set 

Milton Blake and Shelley 

Will smash the ruling class yet

Milton Blake and Shelley 

Will smash the ruling class yet

In the administrative jungle, ideas struggle for light

I'm spending most of the day trying to work out how our new courses will work (teaching starts next week), but I'm having a lunchtime break to go to a staff research seminar. 5 of us are gathered to listen to a Bulgarian visiting scholar talk about

‘Writing across the Native/Foreign Divide: Krystyn Lach-Szyrma’s Letters, Literary and Political on Poland (1823) and Kapka Kassabova’s Street without a Name (2008)’

Lach-Szyrma was a 19th-century Polish philosopher (read more here or buy his British travel memoir here), while Kassabova is a cosmopolitan Bulgarian poet, novelist, journalist and travel writer (b. 1973), educated in New Zealand and resident in Scotland. 


The intellectual link seems to be cross-cultural links and the complications of the terms 'native' and 'foreign', especially when it comes to intellectual endeavour - both authors wrote in English for Anglophone readers. 

Set the controls for 1985

It's 25 years since Back to the Future, and it's being re-released in cinemas, which doesn't happen very often with mainstream films. I actually can't remember whether I saw it on the big screen the first time (my parents didn't take us very often: my ET experience was queuing for two hours before my dad got bored and we went home - not an uncommon event).

It is, though, one of my favourite films, and I rate the sequels too - I'll be going to see it. Under the nostalgia and brash 80s exterior is a cunning blend of wit and social satire. The suburban 80s are sterile and soul-destroying. Marty's parents are exhausted office drones, later transformed into smug loud yuppies - neither position is good. The dystopian town of the near future is a hellhole of Reaganite free-market immorality and selfishness, in which the cinema shows only porn, litter strews the central park, the courts don't function, schools are derelict, workers abused and women objectified: the 1950s version is repressed, racially segregated and sexless - only Marty's love of metal and his sense of fair play can save the day. I've loved Johnny B. Goode ever since. And I also appreciate the presence of a DeLorean - in case you missed it, DeLorean was given a massive amount of British taxpayers' cash by Thatcher to produce cars in Northern Ireland, as a bribe to stop fighting. Little did Thatcher know that John DeLorean was a coke-snorting fantasist mixed up in drug-dealing and conman - the company didn't last very long (and despite looking great, the cars were apparently rubbish). Though you can now buy a brand-new, upgraded version. If only I could drive.

There's a debate in cultural studies about the worth of mass culture: this film demonstrates that even the machine can produce rounded, interesting art. I could go on, but this writer makes the case far better.

Getting Mahlered

I wandered over to Brummidge last night for a performance of Mahler's 8th Symphony, with the CBSO, the CBSO Chorus, CBSO Youth Chorus, CBSO Children's Chorus (the only ones who sang from memory) and the Hallé Choir, conducted by Andris Nelsons, their hotshot star. The solo singers were Marina Shaguch, Erin Wall, Carolyn Sampson, Katarina Karnéus , Mihoko Fujimura , Sergei Semishkur, Christopher Maltman and Stephen Gadd. 


As you can probably tell, it's a monster - a choir of several hundred, a massive orchestra supplemented by pianos, organ and all sorts of other bits and pieces. I'm not a huge fan of Mahler or his period, but the 8th is currently hailed as the greatest symphony of all, so I thought I should slip along. 


It was an astonishing experience. The hall was completely packed - I got a seat right on the top level, eyeballing the lighting rig, high enough to make me a bit queasy leaning over the rail to watch the musicians. There was a huge buzz of expectation - if you're going to perform The Big One, you've got to get it right. It's the classical experience - massive choirs and huge set pieces literally shaking the hall, but also delicate solos, moments of tenderness and calm, crescendos and tiny, quiet interludes - the soloists have to be at the top of their game, but without a brilliant choir and orchestra, it can't be done.


It was done last night, in some style. The choir spilled out into the arena. A second brass section was installed in the upper circle. Singers appeared amongst the audience - one appeared silently a few yards from me, delivered the most beautiful solo, and glided away - and the children were as convincing as the adults, despite singing in Latin and German for 85 minutes without a break. Everything was perfect - the orchestra, the choirs, the soloists. No weaknesses, no languors, everyone responding to perfection in response to a conductor they clearly loved. It's the most complete musical experience I've ever seen. 


The crowd went wild at the end. I've been to some amazing concerts, but I've never seen 1000 pensioners (mostly) express genuine ecstasy before - stamping, whistling, demanding multiple bows from the performers. I was dazed at the end, genuinely overcome not only by the sheer noise, but by the artistic ability on display. 

Here's Rattle conducting the National Youth Orchestra in the opening and closing sections. Even if you hate classical music, turn it up loud and give it a go.

What on earth is happening to the Tories?

Some of them are becoming out-and-out beatnik hippy pinko liberals! Here's Sarah Wollaston, MP for Totnes, expressing the exact same sentiments I hold - and I'm a member of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament.

Many of my constituents cannot understand why our strategic nuclear weapon is being left out of the strategic defence and security review, because the uncontrolled proliferation of nuclear weapons is one of the greatest threats to our existence. That voice has not been heard this afternoon. I hope that hon. Members will bear with me, because it needs to be heard.

At the heart of the 1968 non-proliferation treaty was a commitment to the goal of disarmament by recognised nuclear weapons states; it was the cornerstone of the pledge to the nuclear have-nots in order to stop them seeking to acquire their own weapons. Dissatisfaction among states without nuclear weapons at the lack of progress in achieving the aims of article VI is widespread. Let me remind the House that at the sixth non-proliferation treaty review conference in 2000 we signed up to

"an unequivocal undertaking by the nuclear-weapon States to accomplish the total elimination of their nuclear arsenals leading to nuclear disarmament to which all States parties are committed".

In renewing Trident, we break that pledge and remove our moral credibility. How can we begin to persuade nations such as Iran to step back from the nuclear cliff edge unless we are at least prepared to step back from the precipice ourselves? I am not advocating a unilateral approach, but if this obsolete, expensive and unthinkable weapon has any value at all, surely it is as the means to bring others to the negotiating table. I am rather tired of being told, "It cannot be done" and that to advocate nuclear disarmament is to be incapable of understanding the complexity of the issue. Nor do I accept the argument that these weapons cannot be un-invented; we cannot un-invent biological weapons, but nobody is suggesting that we take that route to mutually assured destruction.

My concern is that as time distances us from the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the horrific consequences of nuclear war become clouded and remote, and that we lose our sense of outrage. In the event of such an outrage-even with a dirty bomb-would we seriously consider nuclear retaliation? Against whom would we retaliate? I am not alone in believing that among the greatest threats facing us is uncontrolled nuclear proliferation and the risk of these weapons then falling into the hands of those who would not hesitate to use them. I have received a great deal of correspondence, as I am sure many hon. Members have, from constituents opposed to the renewal of Trident.

I would ask the Secretary of State to address those real and present dangers, as well as the unknown future threats, by delaying Trident in order to persuade others to join us at the negotiating table. 

I would rather have an effective Army, Navy and - I have an interest here - Air Force than spend at least £20 billion of their resources on a weapon that we can never use and that no longer acts as a deterrent. I call on the Secretary of State to delay his decision on Trident, not because I am an idealist, but because I am a realist.

I shall conclude by reminding the House that Alfred Nobel, of peace prize fame, was famously convinced that his invention of dynamite would make war too destructive to contemplate. We would be wrong to make the same mistake with Trident.

Does she not understand that the ability to kill millions of civilians in a nuclear holocaust is a core Tory belief? I can't see this going down well back at Tory HQ, but for now, let's all welcome her sound good sense. Stirring words indeed.

Getting down with da kids

In the grand tradition of university lecturers trying to reach out to students via popular culture and getting it completely wrong, I'm going to start my series of lectures on class relations in medieval literature with this 35 years-old film clip.

What do you reckon? Still funny?

Give a pope enough rope…

The Pope's here (well, Scotland, which is a different territory to England and Wales in Catholic jurisdictions. It's all good fun: Ian Paisley and a boatload of Northern Irish Protestant fundamentalists are over to protest the presence of the Anti-Christ on British territory. A German cardinal has made a racist remark about multicultural Britain looking like a 'third-world country' (despite many Africans being Catholic), leading atheist thinkers are suggesting that Benny be questioned by police about the church-wide child abuse scandal, and British Catholics are apparently less than enthusiastic about turning up to join in the fun. 


Weirdly, the Vatican has claimed that Cardinal Kasper is now staying behind 'for health reasons': isn't there something in the rules about not lying? Certainly Channel 4 News has a different story:

Although he is in the course of retiring from his inter- Christian faith office in the Vatican, Kaspar has been Pope Benedict’s point man for this trip. This was to have been his swan song. So much so that last night the cardinal was to be found at a banquet thrown in his honour by the German embassy in Rome.

It was at the very moment that the German ambassador was welcoming his prestigious guest across the threshold of his embassy last night that the Vatican press office was letting it be known that Cardinal Kaspar was suddenly too ill to travel to Britain.

My dear old mum isn't subject to this apathy or hostility: she's in the choir for Benjy's Party in the (Cofton) Park. It's all very low-rent: they've even got notorious third-class degree-holding, tile-choosing TV D-lister, Conservative Party activist and Anglo-Palin loan shark Carol Vorderman compéring the faithful massive in Hyde Park.

How different it is from John Paul II's triumphant tour of Britain and Ireland in 1982. Back then, that nasty old man was a hero to many: he'd taken a shot for his faith, and he was a leading Cold Warrior, doing his best to undermine the (admittedly unpleasant) regime in his native Poland and across the world. He was a deeply frightening conservative figure, fresh from crushing the Liberation Theology movement which saw South American priests siding with the peasantry against the disgusting military regimes installed by the US and its friends, and fighting the scourges of planned parenting, feminism, socialism, female ordination etc. etc. etc., yet everyone treated him like he was God's representative on Earth!

I should know. Aged 7, I was one of the huddled masses trying to grab some sleep on an airport runway - in the rain - waiting for an old man in white to drive past me at high speed.

We sang some hymns, prayers were said, I was given a special Missal with the Papal Arms on them and we went home. Bigger than Elvis. Ahem. Not quite as good a story as my brother, who shook hands with Il Papa when his school choir sang in Rome, a moment captured forever in a photograph long renamed 'His Holiness Meets the Pope', though little brother never did make it into the ranks of the priesthood.  Far from it - he's almost a lawyer.  Still, I imagine he'll meet plenty of priests in that line of work, many wearing handcuffs, and not for pleasure.  

Did the visit reinforce my Catholicism? Hard to say. So much of my life revolved around the faith - Catholic School (amongst them, the ironically-named Sisters of Mercy), Mass on Saturdays and Sundays and often in school, Benediction, Stations of the Cross, the Rosary. I was, for many years, an Altar Boy. Yet I can never remember having an inner core of belief. These were things I did rather than meaningful symbolic experiences for me. Being an altar boy meant memorising a massive set of actions, all of which had to be done to perfection and exactly at the right time. Get it wrong, and congregants would loudly tut at you - there wasn't much time for devotion. Looking back, being Catholic wasn't exactly a distinct identity for me, because I didn't know anyone who wasn't Catholic, but it certainly was my cultural framework, and continued to be so long after I consciously realised that I didn't believe any of the supernatural bits and disagreed with virtually all the political stands associated with the faith. Oddly, I never, ever recall anyone trying to persuade us that God existed, or of anything flowing from that - it was just assumed, and was therefore never raised as a question - in school, church and home, religion was a matter of practice because the fundamentals were accepted with as little examination as breathing. 

The biggest divide between my parents and myself is their Catholicism. Or more precisely, their ability to sustain any sort of belief. I just can't do it, and haven't the empathy to understand their capability. At times I've regretted this - it would be lovely to have an explanation of Everything that doesn't require examination, and someone else to blame for all my faults, but only in moments of weakness. I actually find the weirdness, complexity and mystery of the universe far more compelling than supernatural stories invented by half-starved desert nomad from 3000-2000 years ago, and long ago decided that taking responsibility for your own actions (good and bad) is far better than blaming the Devil for the bad and crediting man with beard for the good. 

As to morality being shaped by religion: I'd rather do my best solely to help others here and now than do it simply to avoid a smiting from someone who can't be bothered to make his whims clear. To me, atheism isn't a negative: it's about embracing a human-centric morality.

But as they say - there's a difference between atheists and Catholic atheists, and I'm inescapably the latter.

Nerds… in space

A couple of books in the post today:

Infinite Crisis - the post-Crisis on Infinite Earths shakeup of the superhero world
and
Star Trek 365 - a massive brick featuring glossy photographs and discussions of the original series. It's culturally very important, you know.

I know, I'm a geek.

All dressed up and nowhere to go

I went fencing last night, for the first time in ages. As a consequence, my hamstrings are screaming like pigs in an abattoir. It was great to get back there though - a whole new bunch of people have turned up since I last went, many of them better fencers than I am, so the humiliation just about balanced the chance to learn new things. Suddenly I've been dragooned into another competition and more refereeing big events. I really must learn to say no!

So I got home sometime past 11 last night, exhausted and desperate for sleep. But no - the nightclub across the road has steadily ramped up the noise over the past few months, and last night reached a crescendo such that I could hear every moronic word of every moronic song. Add to that the fighting outside and the howl of sirens and I wasn't a happy bunny. How I looked forward to 4.30 a.m., when the place closes. Blissful silence beckoned.

Except that it didn't: the bloody place's burglar alarm wailed until 6.30 a.m. I'm not, as you may imagine, a happy bunny. I got to work suited up for a serious meeting representing a union colleague, only to find that she's cancelled…

As to the rest of the day - admin, admin, admin. But then tonight I'm off to hear Mahler's 8th at Symphony Hall. He's not my favourite composer, but I'm in the mood for something mighty and tempestuous. Could be worse - at least I'm not going to a cricket-set version of Gilbert and Sullivan's light operetta The Mikado! The horror, the horror!

He's at it again

As is becoming depressingly clear, Tory Scum MP Paul Uppal's favourite subject is himself, and his sense of victimhood.

Yet again, he's making entirely unsubstantiated claims that, despite winning the election, he was the victim of electoral fraud:

I ask the Minister to take on board my deep concern about postal voting fraud. Although I welcome individual registration, I fear that it will not wholly tackle that problem, to which I have referred before.

In my constituency-I must choose my words carefully, because the case is currently being investigated by the Electoral Commission-200 more votes were cast than electoral ballots were issued. I want to impress on the Minister a point that was raised with me recently by a constituent. He said that Labour Members were going from door to door asking if people wanted them to help them to fill out postal voting forms.

Wow. Labour activists were offering to help. That's not illegal. I wouldn't be surprised if the Tories were doing the same. But I've learned something - that the Electoral Commission is actually investigating. I've already written to the police to see if Uppal's actually reported anything - now I've asked the Electoral Commission.

Come on Paul - why the persecution complex? It's not becoming!

Err… Not sure what to make of this one

I genuinely don't know whether Ben will love or hate this one. Is it privileged white girls (a Columbia University choir) appropriating African-American culture, or is it women satirising appalling misogyny in this version of Dr. Dre's 'Bitches ain't shit'? Either way, it's rather hypnotic.

I wouldn't play this if you're at work, if I were you.

Welcome to my office

I really, really like this desk (in an architecture library, naturally). Given the rate at which I buy books, I could actually build it this afternoon.

Books in today:
Stewart Lee's memoir/exploration of how humour works, How I Escaped My Certain Fate.
Lumsdon's Best Shropshire Walks, which looks a little pedestrian (thankyewverymuch, I'm here all week).
A used copy of Weldon Kees' Collected Poems (I read a couple of them recently after an MA dissertation mentioned them, and was seriously impressed. Like Simon Armitage but American and even less likely to turn up to pre-arranged meetings as he disappeared without trace in 1955).
A secondhand copy of Ben Highmore's Cityscapes: Cultural Readings in the Material and Symbolic City (or as his publishers have it, ben highmore's cityscapes cultural readings in the material and symbolic city - clearly capitals and punctuation COST MORE).
And a CD of Othmar Schoek's Notturno for string quartet and voice because it's brilliant.

I've just finished Terry Pratchett's latest novel, I Shall Wear Midnight, and I'm hugely impressed. He's got such emotional range, an active liberal political and moral sensibility and a real grasp on the pace of a novel. Now I've moved on to Murray's Skippy Dies - a comic tale of overprivileged Dublin schoolboys towards the tail-end of the ludicrous Celtic Tiger period, with a seriously dark heart - very good indeed (and now being filmed by Neil Jordan). Its accompanied very well by Pärt's Kanon Pokajanen - much less bland than the Symphony 4 which fills the rest of the CD.