Pay peanuts...

Hypocrisy; there’s a lot of it about. I’ll bet there are a large number of people receiving benefits in kind that are completely unrelated to their job. Whether it’s a subsidised canteen or gym membership, being able to claim for a television is no different - it’s just a little more expensive.

The current MPs’ expenses scandal has rightly provoked anger on the issue of "flipped" homes and the dubious methods for avoiding capital gains tax. However this fury has impaired the critical faculties of many to the point that any unusual payment is seen as suspect. If televisions and furniture are part of your remuneration then you have every right to make a claim; whilst unusual, they are an inevitable result of paying our elected representatives such a comparatively low wage.

The basic salary for an MP is £64,766, if we allow for a ‘London weighting’ this equates to a little over £56,000 outside the capital. It’s a lot of money but is it enough? This is the salary of a middle ranking bank manager, not one for a person who represents the interests of over 68,000 people; someone responsible for policy that affects every part of our lives and those of our children.

The UK has a first-past-the-post electoral system. Technically we vote for the individual we wish to represent us, not the political party to which they may belong. A Member of Parliament however is still subject to two often competing forces; those of the electorate and those of his or her party. This situation is aggravated by the large number of junior ministerial positions available that naturally carry an additional salary.

If we want people who truly represent us then we should be prepared to pay enough such that politics is more than a vocational choice for the well off. If we want people who think of their electorate first then we should pay enough such that any threat to withdraw party privileges has relatively little financial impact. If we want a simple and more transparent expenses system then we should be prepared to pay the going rate.

But if we’re only prepared to pay peanuts, we shouldn’t be surprised at the result.

Failure is your friend

I remember driving in to work one weekend to try and catch up, but on arriving hitting problem after problem; the result being that five hours later I appeared to have gotten nowhere. In reality of course I’d made progress since, come Monday and with all those failures in the past, I could move forward. I’m trying to use this as I wrestle, not always valiantly, with a VB script problem in Excel. I’m not a big fan of Excel, or rather VB script; it’s like being told to play with stickle bricks instead of Meccano. Why do the other kids get the cool toys?

This isn’t what I meant to write about, at least not directly. I guess I was reminded of these challenges on reading a terrific blog on the spirit of scrum. I can’t say I know much about agile software development, let alone the scrum method, and in passing I wonder where or even if, rapid application development fits on the evolutionary path. Scrum would appear to exist beyond the confines of a software development methodology, though this is only part of its attraction. I suspect I should read more of Tobias’ blog, Agile Anarchy, before passing comment, but I will venture to say that what appeals is its... humanity. I could be way off the mark but I’ve read enough to want for more.

I will doubtless be plagued by the cynical voice that warns I’ll never experience it in practice. Perhaps not, but a good idea is a good idea and anyway, just this once I think I’ll aim high.

Unpretty too

One of these pictures is of an ex work colleague and I outside his house, the other is a picture from the brilliant Norwegian comedy Elling; a film about two startled inmates released from a state institution and trying to make their way in the world. I am thus reminded in a most gentle way of how much I’ve aged. My hair used to be black you know.

Me, Leonard Cohen and the Family Stone

I edged out Leonard Cohen in a bicycle race last night. Just as I passed I could hear him singing “everybody knows the race is fixed”… but it didn’t stop either of us trying. Pedalling as fast as we could into a pitch black room, not nearly enough room, I can’t remember what happened next. Darkness and then…?

And then this morning I watched a Christmas gathering of The Family Stone, which was rather unsettling as the most sympathetic character was the uptight type played by Sarah Jessica Parker. The family itself displayed that worrying right-on yet vicious liberal sensitivity; God help anyone who doesn’t share their view of the world. Which is a shame as, though it was a refreshing reminder that unkind behaviour has no political or social boundaries, it also made it difficult to care for any of them. It was a little bit different but it had the potential to be so much better, which like the family made it annoying too. The Family Stone were mean. I’m not sure I’ll be spending Christmas with them again.

World cheers promised 25% increase in level of ignorance

World leaders yesterday lauded another ‘landmark’ announcement from Gordon Brown who, in addition to reducing the number of UK nuclear-armed submarines from four to three, has promised a proportional reduction in the number of people with a rudimentary knowledge of physics.

Whilst some have questioned the need for such a measure, arguing blinkers would prove more cost-effective, sources state that Brown has fallen under the influence of a shady group of neo-realists led by the enigmatic mad monk Alastair Darling. It is thought the Chancellor, whose eyebrows have yet to be authenticated, was reminded of the futility of removing nuclear arsenals after running the economy into the ground at a velocity approaching the speed of light. This near meltdown prompted the hitherto heretical belief that the knowledge of how to destroy ourselves might prove just as dangerous as having the means.

Emboldened with such a vision, Darling arranged a summit at a secret service station on the M4 where he met with the Prime Minister and Ed Balls, Secretary of State for Schools and Stuff… and Peter Mandelson, who they bumped into at the KFC. Several family buckets later they produced the Membury Manifesto.

In it is laid the foundations for making the world a safer place, or as Gordon Brown describes it, “a kinder, more stupid Britain”, by engineering a progressively less intelligent UK population through measures such as The Daily Mail, Sky Television and discouraging students from higher education. “The only way forward”, added the Prime Minister “is backwards.”

Shoot 'em up

A part of me died whilst watching Shoot 'Em Up, the rest of me wasn't so lucky. You know how sometimes you think you ought to give a film a second chance, perhaps you weren’t in the right frame of mind the first time out; there are also times when you should leave well alone. I get that it’s over the top, I get that it’s tongue-in-cheek, I get that some of the puns are deliberately bad. On the other hand it’s not often that you cheer the arrival of each action sequence for the sole reason that you won’t have to listen to any of the characters speak.

There was even a point where I found myself saying “no please… PLEASE DON’T do the BMW versus porcupine joke”... only my appeal was in vain. Michael Davis, the director and writer (so he has no excuse) of this entertainment was no doubt hoping to fool the audience, or at least those capable of rational thought, into thinking it’s a parody or perhaps some kind of ironic statement. I’m pretty sure it isn’t.

But if we must find something to praise, let’s praise it for the full-bodied Monica Belluci; she’s lovely. But what’s not to love about a drug-free lactating prostitute with a heart of gold? Monica uses her considerable charm in the film’s only worthwhile sequence, which manages to show some originality in combining the obligatory sex scene with yet another preposterous shoot-out. Yes it’s true; I did find that bit funny. Also we should commend the film on its length. At 86 minutes it’s mercifully short, but then anything longer and I might have become quite negative.

A perfect blend

Don’t you just hate reading a blog entry that’s no more than a flimsy plug for a restaurant that the blogger has happened to eat in? Well since you’re used to it, here’s one more. Blend Café Lounge in Thornbury makes the most heavenly beef burger and chunky chips I’ve ever tasted. The BLEND burger alone is worth a mention, but with the most amazing chunky chips it’s an unbeatable combination. I hesitate to recommend a place on the quality of their chips, it sounds like a backwards compliment, but you’d have to eat there to understand. Perhaps if I mention that they seem to have cornered the market on relaxed and friendly staff...