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.

A time of goodwill to all movies

I feel so ashamed, sitting in my ivory tower (cunningly disguised as a mess of a spare room) pronouncing on the stupidity of the general public from whom I naturally exclude myself... and then I decide to watch 2012. Disaster movies are my Achilles heel when it comes to good taste and I’m particularly vulnerable to the apocalyptic end of the world “we’re all goin’ to die” tale. An unimpressed colleague described the film as akin to being on an overlong rollercoaster. But despite the obvious plot devices, the naff dialog, the implausible escape from a seemingly certain end, the sense that one ought to be more emotionally involved when witness to the death of millions... Well put it this way; I knew it was rubbish but all I could manage was “wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

It’s a film with a good cast that includes John Cusack (of the brilliant Grosse Pointe Blank), George Segal (a big name from the 70's) and Danny Glover (only two days from retirement). As mitigation I could suggest that they rose above the material but this would be to evade the truth. My work colleague described it as two and a half hours of her life wasted. I on the other hand will no doubt watch this ridiculous piece of rubbish again. Roland Emmerich flattens The White House once more and leaves my critical faculties in ruin. All I have to do now is enjoy James Cameron's Avatar and my journey to the dark side will be complete.

When I was king, I was a truly great king

From director Spike Jonze, the man responsible for Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, comes his latest film, Where the Wild Things Are. Since I liked both those earlier films I have high hopes for this latest effort, indeed I’m counting on it to restore an eroded sense of wonder, if only a little.

It’s not that I haven’t seen any fulfilling films this year. I found the Danish film After the Wedding intensely moving; I saw it twice and cried both times, though that probably says as much about me as it does the film. I remember once watching The Elephant Man with my daughter and having to work hard at preventing her from seeing any tears; I’m not sure whether I was successful or whether I needed to be. Probably. I'll have to look into that.

But this film adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s famous book promises something else. That sense of awe I felt as a child on returning from a voyage with Doctor Dolittle, the scene in Joe Versus the Volcano where Joe looks to the outsized moon and thanks God for his recaptured humanity, or the opening scene in Toys to lift my forgotten spirit and remind me of the glory of Christmas. Interesting that those two films are disliked intensely by a number of my friends and dismissed as mawkish sentimentality, though sometimes it seems any sentiment is regarded unfavourably.

Perhaps it’s unrealistic to expect so much but I stubbornly refuse to let that dent my enthusiasm; every so often we need to be reminded that the world can be beautiful. Will this new film suffice?

Not waving

Some bad habits you never grow out of. Such as wanting something, not being sure why you want it, and then not being sure what to do with it once you’ve got it. Such is the case with Google Wave. I logged in, changed my profile picture and… logged back out again. The thing is I don’t have the time to invest and I can’t really think of anything to communicate. I do at least have one contact, that’d be the wannabe writer, the one who deserted me to go and do something more worthwhile instead and who it turns out can write a good tale. Perhaps he could make it up to me by collaborating on a way to hold back time so I can become only slightly adrift.

I am so far behind schedule; the number of constantly snoozed reminders has reached double figures, I see red flags all over Outlook and I’ve been off work ill. I still feel like crap. I’ll feel worse I’m sure when I run through my e-mail. For some light entertainment I may start the day by comparing the mail requiring me to complete my compliance training (ethics and some such) with that explaining the consequences of failing to adhere to the change request process as documented on the company SharePoint. One was undoubtedly from an external service provided to the company… one managed a firm yet friendly warning of what was required… and the other threatened the recipient with termination. Well you’ve got to laugh. At least that’s the rumour…