Game over

I miss Arcadians, or Galaxians if you will; life was simple. A collection of blue, yellow or red pixels would swoop down in a jagged pattern whilst you timed your highly advanced one-shot cannon to take the little bastard out; miss and you were in a world of pain. You knew exactly what to expect, each level getting quicker until finally you were overwhelmed. Today the game offers an illusion of movement in all directions, tantalising players with a hope of victory. Back then it was more honest, day after day, more and more of the same and the sure knowledge that you would never ever win.

Rev.

I may have written a few times that I’m not religious, and about my annoyance I should feel the need to state this before writing anything that touches on religion. I shouldn’t now but those practicing atheists annoy me every time I think about them, which of course is every time I write on the subject. Maybe I’ll go back to labelling myself agnostic (the world loves a label) so as to divorce myself from the Dawkins sect – in a non-judgemental way of course.

I wonder how many atheists watched Rev? OK, sorry, no more – I wonder how many avoided Rev due to its religious context? That’s a fair question since I almost missed it myself; having endured a lifetime exposure to some awful caricature I thought why put myself through any more? It’s probably the dog collar that invites such lazy writing, or maybe television is generally crap and I notice it more when a ‘person of the cloth’ is involved. That’s not to mention The Vicar of Dibley…

Rev on the other hand is brilliant, though I’m finding it hard to pinpoint exactly why I liked it so much. It’s full of the usual comedy ‘characters’ and normally that’s enough to have me reaching for the remote. There’s the successful wife who is the rock of the relationship, the heavy drinking homeless guy, the prudish reserve Reverend (what are they called?), the overly enthusiastic member of the congregation and the scary figure of authority in the Archdeacon. There’s an air of decay under which these people live their lives and I think it wins because it feels authentic. It’s a world going to seed yet full of warmth and kindness, people who actually care for each other. Oh, and it has real humour too. But I like how Tom Hollander put it in a recent interview:

...they’re just funny jokes, aren’t they? And they’re said with love.

Happy slapped by the database

I had a good day yesterday - I managed to get two, maybe even three things working! I could see a hazy distant light only for it to cloud over today; not even a chorizo sausage baguette could cheer me up. The change request database stopped working for no apparent reason and then after lunch started to behave itself - again for no apparent reason. It vexes me greatly. I am making progress but it is slow. I have a holiday soon. I am looking forward to it.

A fun holiday might stop mistakes such as letting my daughter watch the The IT crowd on replay. It was the best episode of the recent and occasionally misfiring series; Italian for Beginners. Roy has a new girlfriend and learns that her parents died in a tragic fire at a "Sea Parks" during a sea lion show. Unfortunately the line that made me laugh the loudest was Roy’s explanation when his girlfriend walks in whilst he’s checking out her story on the internet. Cue one of those awkward pauses whilst I grapple for an answer to my daughter's inevitable question.

Up in the air

I had very little planned for the weekend, yet still managed to avoid doing any of it. I got up late, exercised, and then watched a film; Up in the Air. It was entirely predictable but a story told with flair, no wonder since it featured the annoyingly likeable George Clooney. My criticism would be that like Juno, also directed by Jason Reitman, it was far too easy to see through its supposed hard exterior. Clooney played Ryan Bingham, a man hired to fire people when employers are too coward to do their job. It was possibly not the best film to watch given the last 12 months, but I manage not to think about those possibilities too much; to the extent that I was a little disappointed when the filmmakers lost their bottle towards the end. The ‘interviewees’ discussing what was really important in their lives was a little difficult to stomach, since it’s easy to find the people who survive. But I can forgive that and the inevitable romantic entanglement, since Bingham himself finishes the film as he should; it’s a little sad but a good ending can forgive so much. I should really dislike this film, instead I’ll probably buy the DVD.

Kill the BBC: Part two

No I don’t want to kill the BBC, it was an involuntary shudder when the reaction three years ago to removing the RPI link to the license fee was “disappointing” from the director-general, and “catastrophic” from the unions; this despite a guaranteed increase in the fee for the following six years - you can always trust the unions for a balanced response. I find the left-wing bias tiresome but I recognise it as an inevitable result for any publicly funded body immune from economic reality. It’s not dissimilar to the media studies teacher who despises your middle class background safe in the knowledge that before too long you’ll be paying his wages.

The problem for the BBC is that its popular programming could just as easily be shown by other broadcasters, and this invites the query as to why the remainder should be funded by the taxpayer at all. Once you list all the quality television produced elsewhere and the not so good from the state broadcaster you begin to realise that its only real purpose is as a mechanism for Government initiatives, such as the digital switchover, and to act as a counterweight to the excesses of Sky and ITV. This doesn’t require a £3 billion budget.

I like the BBC, but our assessment should be based not on whether we like what we watch, but on whether it is right for others to pay. When good, it innovates, leading the way for the commercial sector to follow. It still provides valuable public service broadcasting and it has a role as a standard-bearer for British television, but it has become bloated, stifling private enterprise operating in the same sphere and yes, that is a bad thing. You’d have to be “immune from economic reality” to think otherwise.

Perfection

More tinkering with my blog on the weekend and for a short while I hit something approaching euphoria, helped along by a large slice of vanilla cheesecake, before later concluding that actually the header still looks a bit shit, I don’t really like the Georgia font and reaching the shocking conclusion that maybe a grey colour scheme isn’t terribly exciting; I am no nearer to layout nirvana. I really must get out more.

Instead I stayed in and watched Sherlock, a modern re-working of Sherlock Holmes. I’ve never warmed to the Baker Street detective but it was a terrific opener from Steven Moffat. It’ll be interesting to see whether the remaining two episodes maintain the standard but given that one is written by Mark Gatiss, who along with Moffat created this series for the BBC, I will be holding my breath and hoping for the best. Gatiss was unfortunately responsible for the duff episode in the recent and otherwise excellent series of Doctor Who, which coincidentally in a separate episode dredged up one of my least favourite quotes:

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
-- Sherlock Holmes

Arthur Conan Doyle must have rather liked this quote as he seems to have used it or a variation thereof a number of times and, judging from how often it makes an appearance elsewhere, his fans are rather fond of it too. Holmes, I’ll assume but I could easily be wrong, makes his statement to illustrate a point rather than pronounce; it’s a shame therefore that his following have taken it so literally. In Doctor Who it is a child but it didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes and adding “or there’s something you haven’t thought of”. For such a statement excludes the possibility of error, that fallibility that makes us human and against which perfection is so boring.

Kill the BBC

Now there’s a headline worthy of BBC Online, in that it doesn’t represent what I want to say and is designed purely for effect. No of course I don’t want to kill the BBC; it’s my inevitable knee jerk response to the obsequious #proudofthebbc hashtag currently trending on Twitter. It’s even more annoying than the #ilovethenhs tag, whose proponents bristled at any criticism of that beloved institution. It’s more annoying because whilst the NHS is undoubtedly overly bureaucratic and most definitely rations patient care, I can at least love the principle without always being enamoured of the reality.

It’s far more annoying because whilst the NHS provides an essential service I’m struggling to think of much about the BBC that could be described in the same way. Public finances are under severe pressure, Government departments are facing possible cuts of up to 40% and much of what it presents is made by external companies and would be produced irrespective of the existence of the broadcaster itself. Is the publicly funded BBC really to be immune from this reality?

Some people dance

Some people spend their spare time catching up on reading for work; others use it reading for leisure. Some work around the house, if they’re able, others in the garden, if they’re willing. Then there are those who, lest they be struck by lightning, use what little time they may have, sat on a comfy sofa, moving every once in a while to change the DVD.

This time I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on a television with a working contrast and incidentally on Blu Ray. I say ‘incidentally’ because if you’re noticing things like how black the blacks are then how good can a film be? It was beautiful, intimate and terribly sad; but then it’s based on an F. Scott Fitzgerald story. I know I will love this film many years from now.

Much as I do Doctor Zhivago, which I watched on Tuesday for the first time in a very long time. Were it made today it would be derided by critics, as I believe it was when first released; but the public loved it – good for them. It’s a mix of stilted English and faux Russian accents and some typically gorgeous set pieces but at well over three hours it was long enough for the faults to melt away. There are “two kinds of women” says Komarovsky, and I once briefly wondered if that was the message, but really it’s about two kinds of love. In the past I was never convinced by the passion for Lara, preferring the selfless love of Zhivago’s wife, Tonya. I’m still not, but it was easier to love the right things back then.

Some people love, some question, others live for the thrill. Some change the DVD. It would be churlish to say I didn’t enjoy Avatar, I’ll be happy to watch it again, I’m sure I’d enjoy the 3-D experience should it be re-shown in the cinema and I may even take my daughter. Because ultimately it’s a fair ground ride or a fast food ‘treat’ and there’s nothing wrong with this except that it’s also deluded, perhaps even dishonest. I can forgive the occasionally crap dialogue and the lazy use of a voiceover, but the none-too-subtle environmental message was opportunistic, lacking any sincerity. I don’t mind eating a burger - but it really pisses me off when someone tells me it’s a steak.

In bed with JavaScript

Option A.

If only I’d had more time I could have given my daughter that holiday, mowed the lawn, cleared out the garage, read that JavaScript book… when you’re as ill as I was last week you start making all sorts of rash promises. The JavaScript pledge came not only as a result of my near death experience, but my tinkering with the blog and the acceptance that fun though it can be, “try it and see” isn’t always the most effective way to learn.

Option B.

I’ve been playing around with a “Tweet this” function for a while and plugged in Tweetmeme, though I’d looked at Topsy and for a short while implemented Blogger’s own share buttons. Being me, despite everything working fine as it was I decided to change it all around and spent an age “rolling my own”. Hence the thought that tucked away on my shelf were a few books that might explain what it was I was playing with.

But do I start on these or after a month-long cessation of hostilities resume the war on Troy? Having started as a challenge it was proving to be a really good read until I managed to distract myself with work. It’s early in the story; Paris has been rescued from death at the hands of Menelaus and spirited away to have his way with Helen, whilst the armies give battle outside the walls of the city. So it’s a choice between thousands who live or die at the whim of the Gods, or one developer who will live or die at the whim of JavaScript. Maybe I’m overselling it?

Run for your lives!

So when did they start allowing girls into the Scouts? For some reason I haven't quite fathomed I'm quite pleased that Little Miss R decided on Cubs rather than Brownies. Having said that I've noticed each meeting is preceded with the boys having a game of god-only-knows-what, usually involving a ball, whilst the girls choose to take the register. Oh well, small steps. It was 'science night' on Monday and I was the designated parent helper for the evening. Simple things such as the demonstration of air pressure with a piece of paper and an upside down jar of water; I'd forgotten how much fun science could be. I'd also forgotten how frightening children can be, especially when they run in packs.

Then there's been the World Cup. I love how you can say 'World Cup' and unless you're American you know it means football and the biggest single sporting event on the planet. England are out - deep breath - there I got that out the way and managed to avoid swearing. Naturally I'm disappointed; as I was four years ago and four years before that. It's inevitable. We were dreadful from the start but whilst we limped on there was always hope. Thankfully Little Miss R remains interested due in no small part to the dedication of her teacher who organised the sweepstake at her school. I'm told he supports West Ham. A teacher and a West Ham supporter - how brave is that?

Compassion fatigue

Some months ago I watched an episode of the English language version of Wallander in which one of the characters described compassion fatigue. I was unaware it had been given a name. That's not to say I wasn't moved by events in the news, at that time the earthquake in Haiti, it's more that I was conscious of recognising the signs. I can't remember if this was supposed to be 'normal' but a recent exchange of comments on another blog had me thinking about this again.

My offense was to question whether there was any context in which not knowing a person, for example in another country, should stop one from caring for their predicament. Their response was that I didn't care, that no-one really cares about people far away and I was admonished for being a 'smug twat'; perhaps they were right. Such a robust reply can sometimes curtail rather than encourage debate, but that's a subject for another day; I need to consider what 'care' really means, what it's worth, for the simple reason that sometimes I switch off. I don't imagine I'm alone in this, heartbreak occurs every day, we can't possibly respond to every tragedy but how do we choose those to which we do?

The boo Rooneys

Actually, no, I don’t care that you’ve travelled thousands of miles or how much the objects of your derision earn. How does spending any amount of money afford the right to treat other people like shit? It’s not only an inability to tell the difference between not trying and not being any good, it’s the endemic response to failure that irritates. It’s the culture that celebrates bullying chefs, which encourages us to dispense with those who fall short of another’s subjective view of perfection; they’re only human beings, plenty more where they came from. Shout abuse at those who disappoint and applaud the arrogant but talented pricks, ability is all that matters… when I see all this it reminds me that sometimes I don’t like you very much.

From the office of bad comparisons

I am trying very hard to get over my disappointment in the recent behaviour of the U.S President. I am failing. Serves me right for being swept along in the general euphoria but I guess I'm no different from the billions of other dolts who populate this planet; I want something or someone to believe in.

It took until today for Barack Obama to even suggest an environmental impact as the inevitable risk of our search for the black gold, to oh-so cautiously encourage people to think about their addiction. Not that he put it that way of course. It's far easier to spew out the nonsense of yesterday; comparing the psychological impact of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill to that of the 9/11 attacks. Those would be the events in which 3000 people lost their lives and countless more in the aftermath. What a tit.

Mister Furious

President Obama is furious. I know this because he said it twice; but this was stage-managed fury so it wasn't terribly convincing. I've little time, nor (I hoped) had he, for people who would vent rather than act, but since the U.S government is unable to do anything he expends much of his energy on that favourite political pastime, making sure we know who to blame. That'd be British Petroleum, formerly BP but helpfully renamed by the White House so the xenophobes know which b*stard foreigners to hate. No one doubts who is responsible but just in case, hint that British Petroleum are withholding all the facts, or better still that they're not working with the necessary sense of urgency. Because when people are emotional they'll swallow any old sh*t.

Love is all

Back in the 1980's when AIDS first entered the popular consciousness the main television channels played their part by running a number of prime time awareness programs. Those I recollect featured an assortment of pop stars talking about safe sex. The irony escaped me at the time but the reason I remember was that half way through one of these shows, after various demonstrations of how to put a condom on a banana, I think it was Jon Moss of Culture Club who made a remark to the effect that the most important element in a relationship was love. I will always admire him for that.

Some years later I saw a documentary on transgender reassignment and if I am to be completely honest I didn't find it comfortable viewing. But again it was one particular comment that stays in the mind; a woman having undergone a procedure tearfully hoping for nothing more than to be loved for who she was. It sounds a bit 'Richard Curtis' but I'm embarrassed to say it was only then that I was able to properly connect. I've thought about that moment a lot. I hope she's O.K.

Despite being a term apparently in use for over a decade it's only in the last year I've heard the initialism LGBT, referring to Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender people. Perhaps one reason for my lack of awareness is that it never occurred to me to group people in such a way. It's not the exclusion that bothers but the negative inference. Sexual orientation seems a completely separate issue to gender identity; the commonality appears to be based on what people are not, rather than who they are. In truth I am uncomfortable with any form of segregation, no matter how well intentioned, but that's an easy stance for a white heterosexual to take. So I tell myself that the need for such organisations is as much a failure on my part to embrace all that is different and wonderful as it is an instinctive search for identity.

Nevertheless I look forward to the day when we generalise, if we must, not according to physical preference but the content of our hearts, and I propose a new alliance based on the following three principles:

1. It doesn't matter what sex a person wants to be.
2. It doesn't matter what sex a person wants to have.
3. Love is all that matters.

That's right I said "love" - I don’t want to make it too easy.

Left of centre

In August 1991 hard-line members of the Soviet communist party staged a coup d'état, arresting Mikhail Gorbachev in a futile attempt to roll back the years. The BBC at the time rather bizarrely described these usurpers as right-wing or Conservative - well it was the BBC. I only mention this because for a bit of fun at lunchtime I decided to find out where I could be found on the political compass - it being more exciting than reading this weeks' Packaging News - and was surprised to discover I'm left of centre. Beyond wondering whether this is how others see me it is a reminder that such dubious exercises leave more questions than answers, or at least I hope they do. I could have just said they're false, that whilst generalisations help in providing context we should forego the label. Though it does explain the behaviour of some student friends, one might describe them as left-of-centre, who possessed of a core conviction branded themselves appropriately and then 'discovered' what else they believed in.

Pipe dreams

A charming idealist or a wasted opportunity - it's unsettling to think how my perception of Johnny Nolan has changed. I first saw A Tree Grows in Brooklyn when I was 15 and most recently last Saturday, though I have seen it many times in the intervening 27 years. Usually with repeated viewing I notice the faults, no performance can be perfect, but I was surprised to find it was my reaction to Johnny that was different. It was the first time I could properly feel the frustration of his wife, I'd always understood but this time I felt it. This disturbed me a little, worrying about being too harsh, but I let myself off with a warning. He is a drunk, a pipe-dreamer but also a purveyor of hope… until you get to know him. Yet I am conflicted for he is a kind generous man and genuinely loved, surely the greatest of achievements? I don't know why this film in particular affects me so much. James Dunn who won an Oscar for his portrayal had problems with alcohol throughout his life and Peggy Ann Garner who played the central character was married three times and died of cancer having outlived her daughter. Such is life; to me however she will always be Johnny's daughter Francie Nolan, and as such perfect, though whether that's a healthy outlook I'm not so sure.

I met Stanley Baxter once

I met Stanley Baxter once. He asked me if the next train went to London. I said yes, it did.

I think you ought to know I'm feeling very tired. Shortly after the election I dreamt the Conservatives had formed a coalition government with the Chelsea striker Salomon Kalou - I’m still trying to figure that one out. I’ve not been sleeping well, perhaps it’s the finite variety of work that makes it so difficult to drag myself out of bed or the mind-numbing drive on the motorway; there and back again, and again, and again… a developer’s tale. This may explain the loss of my debit card to a non-functioning cash machine this morning, followed by an inability to remember my account number when phoning the bank; not so long ago I forgot my PIN number. Either I’m tired or it’s the onset of dementia. Or maybe I should go for a swim.

In last week's episode of Soap

Despite telling myself that enough was enough now the election was over, I've had a difficult time withdrawing from the Twitterverse; it's gotten so bad I've started to use words like... Twitterverse. It's only a matter of time before I start talking about the blogosphere and with it enter a cycle of self-loathing that results in me disappearing up my own... well, you know. It's a great way to meet different people with different ideas but every so often I have to shake my head and remind myself that the inhabitants of this social networking world aren't necessarily representative of the real world. In some ways this is comforting because there are a lot of angry people out there.

Last week's 'outrage' revolved around the 55% rule proposed by the new Liberal Democrat / Conservative coalition. The proposal is that it will take a 55% vote to dissolve parliament - a power currently wielded by the Prime Minister alone. Cue much indignation from people prompted by woefully inaccurate reports (from the BBC amongst others) that this meant it would now require more than a simple majority to vote out the government. Not true of course, it still only requires a simple majority on a "no confidence" vote to force the government to resign, like it always has. The difference is that the onus would then be on parliament to form a new government without resorting to a general election.

I'll not go into the full argument because I'm spent just thinking about it, suffice (for me anyway) to say that instead of one person being able to call an election it would take the cooperation of two parties; the opposition is at no greater disadvantage than it ever was. The 55% to dissolve may seem unusual but is similar to that of a fixed term parliament, where dissolution is seen as an exceptional event rather than something that can be engineered. Take for example the Scottish parliament, which requires a 66% vote for dissolution.

Neither have I the inclination for a long and I suspect rambling discussion on the advantages of such a system, personally I have my doubts, I only mention it because fixed term parliaments were in the Liberal Democrat and Labour manifestos. True, the coalition isn't a perfect representation, it can after all dissolve if both parties agree, but if Labour supporters are going to cry "constitutional scandal" whilst ignoring the plans of their own party then it's going to be an irritating five years – assuming the government, or do I mean parliament, lasts that long.

Godzilla versus Alastair Campbell

If the last few days have shown us anything it is the inevitability of the grubby behind the scene deals which are guaranteed by proportional representation and result in manifestos that no-one has voted for. The odd thing is that before all this started I was leaning toward some kind of PR so long as a way could be found to maintain the local representation afforded by our current first past the post system. But on reading various left-of-centre articles it seems the driving force wasn't so much "fairness" but a desire to stop the Conservatives by any means, irrespective of the wishes of the electorate. Now there's a surprise.

I'm only going to write this once (I'm lying, but then so is everyone else) - the only thing of which we can be certain is that the election reflected the parties we voted for, not the parties we voted against. If someone (anyone?) could please explain this to anyone (everyone?) in the Labour party I would be eternally grateful; especially that god awful Alastair Campbell who frightened free thinking individuals everywhere yesterday by seemingly appearing on every news channel simultaneously. Campbell provokes an apoplectic reaction from many who remember only too well the brutal unsubstantiated spin unleashed on those daring to hold an alternate view. On the one hand he makes me turn away in disgust, on the other I am emboldened to stand up and be counted since, and I don't want to sound melodramatic, he is the spawn of Satan… and he must be stopped.

A rock and a hard place

One good thing, possibly the only good thing, about the UK election result is the genuinely new experience of feeling sorry for the Liberal Democrats. If they form a pact with the Conservative Party they will be 'damned' by many on the left who, not understanding the need for compromise in the national interest, are only interested in unity on their terms. A pact with the Labour Party isn't enough for a majority; that would require the participation of some of the national parties – the SNP and Plaid Cymru for example. But these national parties would extract a heavy price for their cooperation leaving England to bear the brunt of any public service cuts when dealing with the budget deficit.

The fairest outcome for the UK - fair being a word I heard a lot during the campaign - would be a coalition with the Conservatives - but does the Liberal Democrat party have the courage to do what is best?

They think it’s all over...

I don't think I can remember an election being so exhausting. Social networking has a lot to answer for but it afforded the opportunity to see the unvarnished side of politics. It was occasionally vicious but always real; that's not to say it was true. I'm still amazed at the idiocy of many on the left who continued to plough the 'Michael Moore' approach – a charitable comparison – in slandering the Tories at every opportunity. There were some on the right too and I have to remind myself that Twitter is as much a tool for expression as it is discussion, though surely some must realise how counter-productive such malicious nonsense is? Tomorrow if the result has gone the right way I'll have to read more of it, and if it doesn't it'll be the same; funny how so many preach tolerance without any understanding.

Turn up the volume and drown them all out. My music of the moment is an album by The National - Boxer. This is an album that brings it all back and I'd not even heard of them until last week – it turns out Twitter can be a positive force too.

Gordon Brown tells supporters: “shut the f*ck up”

Well it wasn't that bad. Gordon Brown made a bit of a mistake and apologised - good for him. I have a soft spot for our Prime Minister; I could never vote for the party, I have a long held dislike for socialism that I really should explain one day, but I recognise a man with principles. I wish I could say the same for his support.

Watching the Twitter stream yesterday was both a fascination and a confirmation. After the gaffe there was a wave of ludicrously vitriolic sentiment directed against the PM. I confess I joined in but since he's on record with some UKIP-like nonsense of his own he was a difficult target to ignore. After a few hours we saw a counter strike but it was a confused and messy affair. The sensible part attempted to move the subject on; there are more serious issues such as a massive budget deficit and some pretty savage cuts in public services on the cards. Unfortunately for the Labour party, and fortunately for their opponents, they were outnumbered by a spiteful element that decided the best form of defence is attack; thus for mentioning the topic of immigration Gillian Duffy remained "a bigot" and their leader was chided for apologising.

You can't say anything about the immigrants because you're saying that you're ... but all these eastern European what are coming in, where are they flocking from?

I don't particularly care for the language, it betrays a level of ignorance, but I'm struggling to see that it deserved such malice - to me it shows an uneducated woman attempting to grapple with a subject she feels important, who pauses as if to realise her words could be misconstrued. In the same rambling conversation the life-long Labour supporter also said:

We had it drummed in when I was a child with mine ... it was education, health service and looking after the people who are vulnerable.

Surely such a person should be brought in and shown the huge contribution that immigration has made and will continue to make to our country? Unhappily for Labour the antagonistic faction of their support would much rather have a fight; in doing so they exhibit that socialist characteristic of loving the romantic portrayal of the working class whilst not much caring for the reality. It turns out there are some supporters Gordon needs to slap down after all.

From a kingdom of gold to one of rust and iron

It's a sense of déjà-vu listening to the Government nowadays; things may be bad they tell us, but they'd be a lot worse had we been under a Conservative government. This argument is of course bollocks for the simple reason that there wasn't a Conservative government. We might as well argue that the economy would be in a lot better state had the banks decided not to play Russian roulette with our money - but they did and now we don't have any. It's a line advanced every time a ruinous regime feels power slipping away. The Conservatives under John Major tried invoking memories of the 1970's; they failed partly I suspect because people couldn't remember just how bad the 1970's were – and they were awful – but mostly because it was irrelevant.

Ten years ago Gordon Brown ignored repeated warnings over selling a large part of Britain's gold reserves; this resulted in a loss to the tax payer conservatively estimated at £5 billion. We cannot know what the opposition might have done; we only know what the then Chancellor, now Prime Minister, did do.

The basic equation amounts to a Labour government that wrecked the British economy versus a Conservative opposition who had they been in power may have made the same mistakes. This in turn means they may have done things differently. They may have decided not to appoint the then head of HBOS, James Crosby, to the Financial Services Authority - the organization supposedly responsible for the regulation of the financial services industry. James Crosby, lest we forget, is the man who sacked his head of Group Regulatory Risk for doing his job - pointing out that the company was taking too many risks. Four years later HBOS collapsed, was bought out by Lloyds and found responsible for annual losses of £10 billion.

It will likely prove the biggest boom and bust in most people's memories with cuts tougher than those implemented in the 1980's. Not long after the general election public services will be cut and over the course of the next parliament tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of jobs in the public sector will be lost. Some might argue, and with some justification, that this readjustment is long overdue. In the fourth quarter of 2009 for example, despite being in the middle of our worst economic crisis for decades, employment in the public sector [pdf] increased by 7,000 to 6 million; compare this to employment in the private sector which decreased by 61,000 in the same period. When Tony Blair became Prime Minister he tripled the number of people working at Number 10 Downing Street so these figures shouldn't really come as a surprise - but they still shock me. We live in a country where more than one in four of the workforce is employed in the public sector and where public spending now accounts for more than 50% of our gross earnings .

Let's say that no one could have prevented the recession; the question is could the country have been better prepared? Could the Labour government have avoided selling assets at such a loss? Could it have ensured proper governance of the financial sector? Could it have avoided indulging in clearly unsustainable levels of public spending? The answer to all of these questions is obvious. To suggest that the opposition would have done the same or hark back to a long ago past is irrelevant and tired. 'We failed but they would have been worse' is a defence as bankrupt as their legacy and on May the 6th we should make them pay.

Twenty over five

You can never have enough handbags

This was my explanation to Little Miss R as wife took us on a fourth lap of the John Lewis Tula circuit. That’s the price you pay for getting to do anything you want. We spent longer doing “a quick bit of shopping” than we did at the cinema and that can’t be right; especially since shopping is inherently dangerous for the sleeping partner. If you’re a coward like me you have a stock of non-committal answers to the never ending stream of questions on the subject of “what do you think”; as if I’m going to fall for that.

No, I needed to be back with my GPS - who’d have thought you could spend fifty pounds on something cheap and tacky that turns out to be so much more? Never mind that I knew the way home, I just like being ordered around and there was a whole library of cheap television waiting for me at home.

I have a BT Vision box. From this it can be surmised I'm either astute in my television viewing, I find Rupert Murdoch's continual and cynical undermining of the BBC repulsive or I'm too tight to cough up for Sky. One cool service with BT is the large number of programmes 'on demand'; programming you stream over the net. BT uses your phone line whilst Virgin Media have a similar service over cable. I'm in awe that it works so well.

Thus I've been able to watch 20 episodes of The Office in less than five days - isn't technology wonderful? One day I had a crush on Pam, the next, somewhat disturbingly it was Angela and no doubt it’ll soon be Dwight;I mean, who wouldn't? From this it can be surmised I'm either astute in my television viewing, I need to get out more or I'm too tight to cough up for the cinema.

Send in the clown

Many years ago I found myself looking at a performance issue with a new version of software. Re-written from the ground up and in a newer version of the language, it was running much slower than the component it replaced. It turned out the problem wasn't the code but the interaction between the client and server process. With only a single thread of execution (it was that long ago) a disproportionate amount of time was spent with the client requesting and the server providing 'progress updates'. The change from significantly slower to significantly faster performance was achieved with the alteration of a single line; the client process would request a 'progress update' once every five seconds, rather than 20 times every second.

Over a dozen years later and I'm at it again, only this time I'm the 'single thread of execution' and the numerous task reminders popping up on my screen are the work I'm keeping in the air whilst I carefully inch forward; either that or an elaborate April fool. I feel a circus act, not entirely sure why, but certain I must.

Truth is beauty, beauty is... computer generated

I’m never sure of the relevance of how art is created, but I was pulled in by the knowledge that this video is entirely computer generated. Personally I’m drawn by the aesthetic, so after a few minutes of “that’s impressive” I was able to enjoy the art as a whole, the video supported by the use of a Michael Nyman score (who composed the music for Gattaca and Wonderland). However despite reading Alex Roman's explanation I don't really understand, I only know it is vast and I am touched with sadness; for it is beauty against which I am insignificant.

Online schizophrenic tweet

At one point I added a tweet feed if only to figure out how. "How" proved to be fairly straight forward, I'm having a problem with "why". Or maybe it's a problem with "how" do you find people you might be interested in following? I'm a little snotty with a method requiring such a short attention span and isn't the whole "follow a stranger" thing kind of wrong? Well obviously I'm doing this for research / everyone else is doing it / I'm desperate / I'm sad / I'm desperately sad / I have something unique to say...

Worse; over a month ago and for some totally inexplicable reason I created another account. I spent a long time setting one up, trying to find a unique name, which I still don’t like, created a background (because I'm like that) and then posted three tweets. I've still only posted three tweets. Is that the correct terminology? So that's two accounts; one under my 'real' identity, which hardly affords the unexpurgated truth - and one for an assumed character of some past historical figure. I had this notion of becoming urbane and witty but it's hardly original and a notion doesn't make you become so; it's there should I inherit the trait through accident.

So I'm back to searching on favourite films; The Fountain is a good start but Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind matches everyone on the planet. Better to search on some older classics; Now Voyager, The Browning Version, but I don't have the patience and my mind inevitably wanders. Isn't unexpurgated a terrific word?

Perfectly normal paranoia

In the spirit of enlightenment and in true socialist fashion I’m going to pigeon-hole everyone into one of the following groups:

1. Ignorance is bliss.
2. It might never happen and there’s nothing you can do about it.
3. It is going to happen and there’s nothing you can do about it.
4. Run for your lives.

For those who posit "there is something you can do about it"… do I really need to say where they belong?

It's then I remember:

You know, all this explains a lot of things. All my life I've had this strange unaccountable feeling that something was going on in the world, something big, even sinister, and no one would tell me what it was.

Thankfully I read this (or maybe saw the BBC series) at a young age and it helped explain those occasional moments in my life when it appeared the world around me was going to sh*t. Because as the wonderfully named Slartibartfast put it:

…that's just perfectly normal paranoia. Everyone in the Universe has that.

The soundtrack of my life

So Before Sunrise and Reality Bites were disappointments, but in his defence he featured in a really great film, Gattaca. Admittedly Ethan Hawke isn’t the reason this film is so good but he deserves praise for not messing it up. Sometimes that’s enough; I, Robot for example was a huge let-down not through being bad, but because it could have been so much better. Gattaca delivered partially down to the story but I mostly remember the music. Michael Nyman composed the score for this and another great film, Wonderland. Two films with completely different subjects but alike with musical scores of such sadness; sorrow has rarely been so beautifully expressed. One film that of a clinically clean dystopian future, the other of a grimy depressing present; and I love them both – it must be down to my sunny personality. Not exactly the soundtrack of my life, but there's definitely a theme.

Shhh…

Against expectations I found time to watch Wings of Desire, but I needed a couple of strong coffees as I was feeling very tired. I’ll pay for that later. It was poetic, hypnotic and I liked the background; but if I were to make one criticism it would be the scene at the bar/lounge - too many words. I can’t think of another way to phrase that and I know it makes me sound like a Neanderthal, an opinion that will be hardened when I mention another film with the same problem; Before Sunrise. In all other respects it’s an unfair comparison since it was one minor quibble of a film that was otherwise excellent; whereas Before Sunrise, consumed with its own importance, was self indulgent crap - though I’ll bet fans of Dawson’s Creek loved it.

Ouch, that sounds a bit harsh doesn’t it? It’s the last film I can remember not watching to the end. I’m fanatical about such things, even complete rubbish, so I must have had some kind of allergic reaction to stop after less than half an hour. But hey, I’ll be magnanimous, I’ll give it a second chance, I just pray that at some point Ethan Hawke pauses for breath. It was the second time he’d let me down, having gone to see Reality Bites at the cinema and being tempted to walk out after – oh – about thirty minutes. Annoying, but I’d paid good money (whatever that means) so I endured the tale of obnoxious-little-jerk meets girl, obnoxious-little-jerk wins girl; I guess it was back in the days when being an obnoxious little jerk was – like – cool – yeah?

Out, damned report

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, though since I can’t remember any good bits I’d take that with a pinch of salt. I am so tired and I can’t decide whether it’s due to a lack of sleep or working on reports, or a lack of sleep due to working on reports. I do know I don’t want another week like that, but since I’ve not yet finished there’s every chance I will. Regression testing will prove even more painful since there’s work on systems of which I have even less or no knowledge - but then neither does anyone else. On one report I removed an entire list of recipient addresses, people involved in the development, people who have all been made redundant. My address is on there now but for how long?

So I would be well advised to make the most of the weekend. However my hope of watching Wings of Desire, years after getting the DVD, has failed to materialise. Saturday afternoon was my chance and I’m realistic enough to know how the evening will turn out. You see that sad grey haired man sunk on the sofa, brain barely active (it’s for the best) whilst watching Casualty on BBC One? That’s me that is, that’s my future.

I call them jumpers too

From my first I knew
'Please do tell me
But don't say a thing'

Then I saw you
And my mind raced ahead
Though my heart would sing

So listening in I said
'I call them jumpers too'
And you turned to me

And smiled

A weekend of Internet Explorer, Jessica Alba and air hockey

So much happened, but not to me. I continued my voyage of discovery with HTML/CSS and had that light-bulb moment when I started to realise why so many people have it in for Internet Explorer. I wasn’t one of them and I’m still not, but I get the frustration. Then there were the Fantastic Four films, yes I watched them both, featuring the air-brushed perfect Jessica Alba. They’re enjoyable fluff and to me the most comic-book like of all the recent comic book adaptations. But most of the weekend was spent on a Christmas present from my parents. Thirty years too late they bought me the ultimate gift and after putting it together this weekend I’ve been practicing how to lose to Little Miss R at air hockey. It’s a lot of fun.

Do developers dream of agile sheep?

Circumstances being what they are I’m currently working in a very small team. That would be the team of one, starring Chuck Norris. There are some advantages, besides the ability to fight off terrorists with my bare hands, such as worrying less about reviews whilst maintaining quality. I still review; it was the memory of past conflicts that always had me worried. I’ve been lucky to have worked with some personable people for several years, thus the process was relatively untroubled, but have been around long enough to remember a few toxic environments; where failure was less an opportunity to learn and more a chance for one-upmanship and the establishment of hierarchy.

Somewhat behind the curve I’ve been thinking a lot about Agile, this despite the mention of daily stand-ups. I didn’t pay much attention to this element at first but recently it’s occurred to me that far from being a euphemism there are probably some who interpret this literally – who require it. Having no first hand experience I’m ill-placed to comment, but who’d have thought keeping a meeting on-point would require something so prescriptive? Certainly not me; anyone who’s been in a meeting with sales knows that standing up won’t help… though running away might.

However I’m still fascinated, I always liked rapid application development. It’s the potential of seeing it done well that grabs the imagination; to interact with others on a regular basis with constructive comment given and taken, driving the project forward, continually improving the outcome. Only I’m not sure how the more ‘robust’ personalities are encouraged to value others as much as they value themselves. Perhaps this isn’t in the remit; yet I’ve read a blog or two that hint at the possibility. Wouldn’t it be great if a methodology enabled better product and better people? Or should I just go and hug a tree?

HTML madness

I’ll have to stop this. Given blogs ought to be about content I spent a ridiculous amount of time tinkering with the layout yesterday. I think I’ve become slightly unbalanced; this is very sad but I’ve been having a lot of fun.

It started early last week when I discovered that you could create pages in Blogger. This feature could have been there for ages before I noticed but thankfully this time it really is new; new to Blogger that is, WordPress has had it forever. Typically I decided to style the page list control, for which I have to thank the contributors to the help forum for pointing out where to look, but it was unfortunately the start of a slippery slope.

It wasn’t long before I started to experiment with overlaying elements. First I wanted a static non-scrolling image and then I spent an eternity with some relative positioning of the ‘contact’ images; Twitter, Facebook etc. Relative positioning alone was troublesome as it affected the layout where the images would have been. Relative inside an absolute positioned element did the trick until I found that Chrome, my browser of choice, rendered differently to IE and Firefox; you’d have thought IE would be the odd one out. I got it in the end but it chewed up an obscene amount of time. One of these days I’ll learn to organise it properly but I’m enjoying the novelty.

Today I watched the football instead, like a normal person; though I can’t escape the feeling I should get out more. I don’t think the trip to the tip counts and if I arrive at work tomorrow morning wondering where the weekend went, who am I going to blame?

It’s anarchy

I’ve always thought of anarchy in its pejorative sense; as such anarchists were to be pitied at best, and at worse full of violence, a general urge to destruction and dangerous to the ‘common good’ – though I’m uneasy with such a term. Possibly an unfair generalisation and I am reminded of a conversation with a socialist activist friend who despaired at the appearance of the Socialist Workers Party at every demonstration. Some people, she explained, are full of anger at an injustice whereas some are just full of anger.

I’ve not a lot of time for people railing against a system without providing (credible) alternatives; thus anarchism came even lower down than socialism in my estimation. However I recently came across this quote from Gustav Landauer:

The State is not something which can be destroyed by a revolution, but is a condition, a certain relationship between human beings, a mode of human behaviour; we destroy it by contracting other relationships, by behaving differently.

I like that. Anarchism, like socialism, would appear to have many sometimes competing facets. Gustav Landauer was murdered by soldiers one day after being arrested during the November Revolution. It serves to remind me that when I win the lottery, for which I’d have to buy a ticket, I must look to further education and the study of something “useless”. There’s nothing to stop me now of course, except time and a general weariness, I’d just like the money; though in some anarchist systems I wouldn’t need it... apparently.

I can see clearly now

Some time ago my old CRT television faded away and I ordered a new HD TV and Blu Ray player. I’d been waiting for an excuse, though my old friend rallied briefly before being switched off and dragged to the garage; where it will remain because it’s too heavy to carry any further. With my new boxes of delight I attempt to discern the difference between a standard and high definition picture; there is one, but it’s quite distracting looking for it. Now I’m in a no-mans land of indecision trying to decide between lovely cheap up-scaled DVDs and their “improved” Blu Ray counterpart.

It’s a perfect diversion from the real world which likewise seems undecided on what to do with me. That’s bollocks of course, though I do seem to be waiting for something; after which I will presumably move forward with my life. Meanwhile I put my head down and plough through the work ahead whilst wryly noting how much longer everything takes, longer than even I expected, when there are so few people around.

It’s proving a good opportunity to look at things that might otherwise have passed me by and I’m enjoying, if that’s the right word, the challenge; but it is very tiring. I miss bouncing ideas around, random Star Wars quotes, overhearing in-character discussions on the latest Xbox game, 5-a-side football, complaining to my boss, spoiler discussions on 24, arguing over whose turn it is to make the coffee. I miss my friends.

Half way to being the new Robin Hood

There's a great moment in Blackadder the Third in which Baldrick describes his new hero, The Shadow:

What a man! They say he's half way to being the new Robin Hood... he steals from the rich, but he hasn't gone round to giving it to the poor yet.

This was my first thought on hearing of the new Robin Hood tax campaign; which it is suggested would be the first tax in history that wasn't somehow passed on to the consumer. Such a thing isn't possible, the market will always adjust, but the trouble is that in this country the consumer is also a sucker; probably believing there really is a big stack of unused cash ready to be spent on good causes. This is to say nothing of his gullibility as to the causes that any revenue will support – in reality existing expenditure would get cut to zero as soon as this new source of funding was secured.

Whilst we may not be the customers of the proposed targets, the market has an astonishing ability to pass on the cost, from institution to institution, all the way down a chain of which we're at the bottom. It would be more efficient to prop up the banks with less of our money and tax us directly rather than indulge in all this smoke and mirrors; but then even the suckers would know what was going on.

An atheist in sheep’s clothing

Here’s the thing; despite what my profile may say, I’m probably an atheist. All this agnosticism is an attempt to disassociate myself from that rampant in-your-face element. Edward Aveling once said:

'Agnostic' was but 'Atheist' writ respectable, and 'Atheist' was only 'Agnostic' writ aggressive.

I get that. I don’t want to fight anyone and I’m not concerned with changing their belief, kicking out a crutch provides no satisfaction, being merely cruel. On the other hand, practicing atheists (for want of a better term) seem determined to give battle. Why do they care so much about other people’s faith?

The tenet that religion is the ‘root of all evil’ is a convenient fiction; a conviction that absolves one section of society from any blame. The reality is that our ills stem from a lack of tolerance; Christian to Moslem, Moslem to Christian, theist to atheist, atheist to… everyone else. I don’t doubt there have been terrible abuses, but if religion is culpable am I to blame atheism for the appalling (and more recent) crimes of Stalin, Mao Tse-tung and others?

Yes, Pat Robertson’s comment on the tragedy in Haiti was idiotic, as most of his comments are, but I find it interesting that Richard Dawkin’s response was less critical of Robertson than it was of those Christians who denounced the remarks. One might suspect that a Christian condemnation didn’t ‘fit’ and was therefore ignored as an anomaly, but of course his argument was that Robertson, unlike his critics, was being consistent with Christian teaching. You see Dawkins is like many of my hard-line brethren; in addition to only believing the one truth (sound familiar?) they like to interpret everything they read literally – oh, the irony! That must make for a terribly boring life, and one that leaves me to ponder yet again; how is it that some intelligent people can be so utterly simple? Bless them…

Would the real liberals please stand up?

Might I make a small request to the BBC? When it comes to reporting foreign politics, particularly in the U.S, could they try for a little more balance? I like Obama as much as the next person, I listened to his victory speech in full (thank you BBC iPlayer), but the love-in of the last few weeks to ‘celebrate’ his one year anniversary is a little over the top; as was the ‘flags at half mast’ response four years earlier when Bush won his second term in office.

The BBC would do well to avoid the simplistic ‘Republican equals bad, Democrat equals good’ message that it’s been pumping out, but since this has been going on for years I imagine that’s a forlorn hope. It reminds me a little of an idiotic article I read many years ago in The Guardian newspaper, in which they gave over a whole page to a portrait of the ‘typical’ Conservative-voting woman. You can probably guess the tenor of the piece, full of stereo-types more likely to be found in an airport novel than the real world. I wonder who the journalist was, I have no idea but I bet they’re now in politics or writing 'working class' drama for Auntie.

Likewise I’ve no idea what happened to the earnest young socialist who visited my school and whose only memorable comment was to question Margaret Thatcher’s femininity. It’s a common theme I’ve encountered all too often; when some liberals talk about the opposition, be they Republican, Conservative or anyone who dare hold an opposing view, the gloves come off. Women who don’t toe the line have something wrong with them, non-whites are portrayed as betraying their race and whites are inherently racist. So many labels; I’ve lost count of the number of times the BBC has used the term “black Americans” or “white Americans” – are they kidding me?

I really shouldn’t have been surprised therefore to read another crude ‘news’ report on U.S healthcare reform; Why do people often vote against their own interests? Reform seems eminently sensible to me, but I know several Americans who oppose these measures. I respect their opinion, they’re not idiots, they just happen to have a different outlook that no-one, least of all the BBC, can be bothered to explore properly. In the same report Drew Weston, an ‘exasperated Democrat’ is quoted as saying:

Obama's administration made a tremendous mistake by not immediately branding the economic collapse that we had just had as the Republicans' Depression, caused by the Bush administration's ideology of unregulated greed.

It’s an extraordinary statement with not an opposing view to be found. Indeed the story is so sloppily written it's not always easy to tell where the quote stops and the journalism begins. A balanced report might have pointed out that it wasn’t Bush who deregulated the banks, a measure widely held responsible for the start of our current economic mess, but his cigar loving predecessor Bill Clinton. If memory serves me correct, wasn’t he a Democrat?

Of course greed and countless other unpleasant attributes can be found all too easily in politics, but to be naïve enough to believe, and irresponsible enough to suggest that they reside solely on one side of the political spectrum serves no purpose. It's playing to the home crowd, it’s lazy but more than that it’s wrong. Just as conservatives need to stop throwing around ‘socialist’ as a form of insult, there are some liberals who need to be little more… liberal.

Just what is international law anyway?

Though I’m loathe to side with either Jack Straw or Tony Blair (particularly our former Prime Minister) in the Iraq inquiry, I have to admit I’m somewhat bemused by the question of whether the invasion of Iraq was legal. In touting this query I’ve heard numerous references to ‘international law’ without any mention of the precise law that is supposed to have been broken. International law is often nothing more than an agreement or commonality across existing states; where there is no common ground there is no law. Does anyone seriously believe the US under either a Republican or Democrat administration would acquiesce to a requirement for UN authorisation of military action?

The real issue remains how the UK government misled parliament with such spurious military intelligence. The ‘45 minute’ claim was quite clearly rubbish; my only surprise when I originally listened to the presentation in the House of Commons was that no-one expressed any doubt. In this respect the guilt lies not just with Tony Blair but the entire Labour party for being so compliant, though the Conservatives do themselves little credit having provided such poor opposition. Indeed the only party to come out of it with any standing is the Liberal party – and I never thought I’d hear myself say that.

Proportional (non-) representation

Imagine living in a constituency where your parliamentary representative isn’t the person who received the most votes.

Imagine living in a constituency that voted for an independent candidate not allied to any of the major political parties, who is thus prevented from representing you because being independent they have no visibility at a national level. Conversely a party that has minority support across the country aggregates their national vote and is ‘allocated’ a place in parliament. Imagine that ‘allocation’ is your representative. Imagine they belong to the BNP.

Imagine a Member of Parliament having to vote on a bill that is unpopular with their local constituency. Elections are near, you have a narrow majority as it is but ‘the party’ can ‘guarantee’ support in the form of transferred votes; side with your constituency and you’re on your own. Imagine how this will affect the decision making process.

All of these scenarios are possible with proportional representation; a system that favours the political party whilst disenfranchising local electorates. What many people in the UK forget is that when we vote we are voting for an individual and not the party to which they might belong. As such our representatives are directly accountable to us. The appalling parliamentary ‘whip’ system  is an indicator of what will happen on a much wider scale with the introduction of PR - one purpose of this system is to ensure an MP votes "the way their party wants".

I’d rather have a system where our political representatives vote the way we want.

Downfall

For the first time in an age I found myself snowed in and unable to get to work. It was 50:50 but a text message from an ex-colleague who lives not far from the office persuaded me of the futility in making an attempt. So I found myself at home with no remote access to work and had to take the day as leave.

I watched Downfall; a film I’ve wanted to see for a long time yet somehow managed to miss despite the numerous repeats last year. Though it’s a tremendous film, its real achievement is in portraying the various bunker occupants as human beings rather than unique expressions of evil. As the film critic Roger Egbert wrote:

...he [Hitler] was not a great man, simply one armed by fate to unleash unimaginable evil. It is useful to reflect that racism, xenophobia, grandiosity and fear are still with us, and the defeat of one of their manifestations does not inoculate us against others.

In avoiding caricature we are prevented from writing a line under this history, in humanizing the protagonists we are reminded that such evil could happen again; and this is what makes Downfall a truly great film.

It was a wild rumpus

It was a film I admired and could easily become a film I love. Where the Wild Things Are was made by people who remembered what it’s like to be a child; everything from Max’s relationship at home to his adventure with the wild things spoke of the truth. The wanton destruction, the picking of sides and the unexpectedly violent mud-clot fight; it was wonderful.

My favourite book last year was The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. I have admittedly not read much, something I hope to rectify this year, though I seem to remember saying something similar in the past. I have two borrowed so there’s somewhere to start. However as a warning familiar to many, never express an interest in anything specific. For Christmas I received three books on the Roman Empire, one on the Persian Empire and one on Ancient Civilisations. I can’t recollect the last time someone gave me non-fiction on a period subsequent to 1066AD.

For my favourite album there was slightly more to choose from. I’m not the music buyer I once was, there are no longer stacks of CDs purchased on a weekly basis, but now that DRM on online purchases is a thing of the past MP3 downloads are becoming the norm. I’ve downloaded on many occasions this year… yes, it’s a miracle. A lot of good albums but standing out was Tale to Tell by The Mummers.

It is the most uplifting magical music of an age and such a shock to read that the composer behind the group, Mark Horwood, had committed suicide.