Look, I'm sorry. I am. I really am. But what with jobbing, blogging once or twice a week over here and moving house and indeed city, I'm struggling to find the time to visit this dusty corner of the web.
It's a shitter, really. There's so much I want to comment about in all areas of the news, but it inevitably ends up instead on my Twitter account, sandwiched between football ramblings and rants at Neighbours.
Today: the Budget. I'd love to talk about it in more detail, but I've become so innured to 140 characters that -
Sorry. Old joke. The Budget was fascinating, but more for students of politics than of economics. The main talking point, really, is Alistair Darling's decision to axe Stamp Duty on first-time home buyers spending less than £250,000 on their property. Seeing as it's currently 1% of the property value, it'll probably save them around £2,000. Good stuff. Not quite as good, obviously, for the owners of million-pound homes, who are seeing their Stamp Duty rise 5%.
That'll be 5%, please It's a move that sees Labour move to their traditionalist roots... oh, come on, we know that's bollocks. It's an appeal to their core voters, that's all, but what did you expect in a pre-election Budget? It's interesting, though, that penalising well-off southerners in the commuter belt whose homes have ballooned in value through no fault of their own may cost Labour as many votes as they win through helping first-time homeowners - who, by the way, won't be as poor as all that, since the move affects properties worth between £125,000 and £250,000. Basically, mummy and daddy's mansion tax pays for their first step towards their own mansion. What's that song? We are all bourgeois now?
Still, this Stamp Duty move will probably end up a votewinner rather than a voteloser, which is more than you can say for David Cameron's efforts with Gay Times. If you wanted proof the only principle this man has is that he should win the election, there you go. "What's my stance on gay people again? Wait, I know this one. Turn the camera off, let me get my crib sheet... "
Cameron: direct (well, not really) So in conclusion, I'm rubbish, Cameron's rubbish, the Budget happened and if you are reading this, thanks for sticking with me. Now I'm settled, almost unpacked and actually have the internet at home, I can start blogging on here a bit more often than once every Twilight film.
I'm back, I promise, and I'll start... oh, next week sometime.
Just noticed this on the BBC about the race for countries wanting to host the 2018 Football World Cup. I have one main concern with the proposed host nations. Who?
It's encouraging - very encouraging - that smaller nations are striving to host such a major event. Ambitious building projects bring in capital, the country improves etc. etc. Basically, hosting the World Cup energises the country in exactly the way hosting the Olympics does not.
However, it seems to be getting less about the football.
Eyebrows were raised when the USA hosted the global tournament in 1994 because their chances of passing the group stages were slim, effectively killing any local atmosphere for the more interesting knockout stages (it also didn't help when an unnamed American expert said 'soccer' was the fourth-most popular sport in the country after baseball, basketball, American football and ice hockey - add that one up). To be fair, the USA got to the last 16 - i.e. the second round - before losing only 1-0 to eventual winners Brazil, but fans the world over were still far from convinced with the country's supposed love for the sport.
Eyebrows were raised yet further, somewhere into the fringe, when the 2002 World Cup was offered to South Korea and Japan, but again a surprise was in store: joint hosts South Korea reached the semi-finals, beating Portugal, Spain and Italy on the way. Fair play - but two goals in five and a half hours of football in the knockout stages showed their lack of real talent. Sorry, but that's the way it is.
Still people remain unconvinced by smaller footballing nations hosting the World Cup and yes, I am in that category (uh, in that I'm unconvinced, not a small footballing nation).
Now we have Qatar and Indonesia wanting to host the 2018 World Cup. Neither has competed in the tournament ever before, although Indonesia technically did in 1938 when they were the classed as the Dutch East Indies. A rich footballing history there, then.
Qatar, meanwhile, has a population of only 1.3 million and will struggle to persuade players to play in a sweltering Arab desert in the middle of summer. Even the proposed underground stadium - an admittedly cool idea (pardon the pun) - will only host 11,000 fans. That's just not feasible.
(Khalifa Stadium's nice though.)
And yes, Japan, South Korea and the USA are all bidding again. God help us.
Of course it would be short-sighted to suggest only the best of the best footballing nations should host the World Cup. It is important to give these smaller teams the chance to improve their sporting prowess as well as their infrastucture (look at the Italian rugby team improving since the Six Nations). But surely one prerequisite should be that they're good at football. What's the point letting Indonesia host the tournament if they're just going to be humiliated in every match?
It is no longer about the football. It's about the money. Good for a country's infrastructure and development, yes, but not so much for fans all over the world.
Ronaldo to Real, eh? And Kaka too. Not to mention Manchester City signing Gareth Barry. But did you hear about Burnley snapping up Tyrone Mears from Derby?
Watching the big-money buying antics of Real Madrid certainly provides some entertainment for the long summer football-less months, but the fun is short-lived. The real fascination comes in watching the teams without silly money scrape together their back-of-the-sofa coppers to buy Aberdeen's reserve left-back. Why? Because these teams need value for money, and there's a great game to be had, both for the clubs and for those of us watching, in predicting who can provide it; the player who not only helps the club to win matches, but at a cut-price rate.
Which is why it's most interesting at the moment to watch Burnley, Birmingham and Wolves – those teams newly promoted to the Premier League. Even though we're some 37 days (and impatiently counting) from the opening weekend, you can tell a lot from the way a club will go about its top-flight adventure by its close-season purchases.
Look at Derby two years ago, for example. With a notably weak squad, they hardly ventured beyond the High Street, with perpetual Welsh disappointment Robbie Earnshaw the only major signing. There was never any ambition. Famously, the Rams were relegated as early as March, and finished the season with a League record low of 11 points.
At the same time, Sunderland sought to reaffirm their place in the top flight with a spending spree, including Craig Gordon (£9 million), Michael Chopra (£5m) and Kenwyne Jones (£6m plus Stern John on an exchange deal). The Black Cats survived the drop.
But despite Sunderland's successful dealings that year, it's not all about spending a lot of money; it's about spending wisely. Hull went bargain basement this time last year, getting players on loan and free transfers, and enjoyed an incredible start to the season – and even if it did go a bit pear-shaped after that, they still stayed up.
So which of our new teams this year are shaping up well in the transfer market? Let's take a look at their chequebook stubs.
BURNLEY
Preparing for their first outing in the Premier League, the Clarets have been relatively quiet in the market to date. Only three players have made their way to Turf Moor so far this summer, as manager Owen Coyle chooses to keep faith with the team that won the Championship play-offs.
Burnley have, however, paid a club record transfer fee to bring Scottish striker Steven Fletcher from Hibernian for £3m.
Potential bargain: David Edgar. The 22-year-old Canadian defender was sent off on the last day of the season as Newcastle succumbed to relegation, but he received praise from Kevin Keegan and Glenn Roeder and was named man of the match in a 2-2 draw against Manchester United.
Potential turkey: Steven Fletcher. Can Fletcher live up to the pressure of being Burnley's most expensive ever signing? Hibs legend Keith Wright openly questioning whether he is ready for the best league in the world won't help his confidence.
WOLVES
Last year's second-flight champions have been very busy, signing six players. Most promisingly, they've broken the bank on Kevin Doyle, paying Reading, who bought him for just £78,000 four years ago, a reported £6m for his services – a Wolves club record. Reading team mate Marcus Hahnemann has also arrived on a free.
Potential bargain: Nenad Milijaš. Voted Most Valuable Player in the Serbian Superliga last year after 37 goals in 97 appearances for Red Star Belgrade, Milijaš has also scored twice in ten matches for Serbia. And he's a midfielder.
Potential turkey: Ronald Zubar. The former France Under-21 and Guadeloupe international incurred the wrath of Marseille fans after some costly defensive errors. Three million Euros may be too big a fee.
BIRMINGHAM
With more money to spend than their promotion buddies, Birmingham have sought to shore up their defence with some big-name Championship purchases. Roger Johnson, Cardiff player of the year for two years running, has arrived at St Andrews for £5m, joined by 22-year-old Coventry captain Scott Dann for a reported £3.5m, rising to £4m.
Potential bargain: Joe Hart. One of England's best 'keepers on a season-long loan? Yes please.
Potential turkey: Lee Bowyer. Bowyer came on a free transfer, so at least he won't be an expensive letdown, but is he still good enough to play at this level? The jury's out on that one.
So, then, The Observer. National institution or financial dead duck? Ongoing liberal tradition or failing piece of press history? Last hope for decent Sunday newspapers or... well, you get the picture.
The problem is that many people don't. The news - or more appropriately, rumours - that Guardian-owned Sunday staple The Observer may be set to close has been greeted by cries of indignant outrage from the left and centre and cries of ugly derision from the right (i.e. almost every other newspaper).
No surprise there, perhaps, and it's good to see people coming out in force to condemn the proposed closure, oppose the Guardian Media Group's pessimistic murmurings and in some cases, call the whole thing a fascist coup. I'm one of them. I've joined a Facebook group and everything. AND I'm following 'savetheobserver' on Twitter. GMG, feel my web 2.0 wrath.
However, I feel the need to tar the rose-tinted Observer portrait with the brush of realism and bad metaphors. There's no smoke without fire, and in this case the fire is coming from an almost ritualistic burning of money from people bowing to a false idol of unerring tradition.
The Observer has not turned a profit in 16 years, ever since the Guardian bought it in 1993. Let's think about that. No profit in 16 years. And it's thought to have lost £10-£20 million every year in recent times. The Telegraph's business section has some more depressing statistics, although I must add that I don't condone the irrelevant comparison of the newspaper's losses with Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger's salary increase.
On Newsnight a former editor of The Observer, Donald Trelford, said the Sunday newspaper is being made scapegoat for The Guardian's losses. I don't agree. Once again, it hasn't made a profit in 16 years, and it's allegedly losing a million pounds a month.
Now I'm not a Godforsaken pennypincher, and I believe in political ideals ahead of profitable business, but can the GMG really afford for this to continue, and now of all times?
It's time, as ever, for a disclaimer.
I am a Guardian reader and an Observer reader. I detest almost every other newspaper from the Sun to the Mail - especially the Mail - for being irresponsible, reactionary and just a little bit racist. You may have noticed that my news links above took you to a story in the Times and the Torygraph, but only because, in spite of everything, they are at least trustworthy newspapers for getting their facts right. I just don't agree with anything they say, that's all.
So when I say we have to be realistic about The Observer, that doesn't mean I want it to die. I simply recognise that there may be no alternative.
But could it find some other way of saving money? Both The Guardian and The Observer have more staff each than the Chinese when they were building their Great Wall. If you were to walk past everyone who worked for these papers, you'd never reach the last one. There's just too many of them. The wage bill must be absolutely epic.
I don't want people working for The Big G or The Big O(we) to lose their jobs, though, partly because I know some of them. So could The Observer be smaller? It's a weekly so it's huge, naturally, but it could probably halve its page count before it had to halve its staff (uh, the number of staff, that is - I'm not suggesting it literally cuts its staff in half, despite the pleasant rhyming).
But if none of these cost-cutting measures are possible, what should the GMG do?
Shoot me for saying this but in times of dire need for a balanced world view, The Guardian must take precedence over The Observer.
The Tories are almost certain to win the next General Election (God help the delusioned sinners that vote for them), and we need The Guardian at its strongest to repel every right-wing newspaper out there. It's the guardian of liberal thinking and good journalism; it is not guardian of The Observer. And it can't afford to keep losing money.
Yes, I'm a bastard. But I do recognise The Observer's proud reputation and prouder history, which is why I think the proposal for it to become a midweek magazine is almost insulting. THAT would be the death of it. It's a 200-year-old newspaper, for goodness' sake. When World War One veterans are on their deathbed, do you cake them in gaudy make-up and call them Ruby? No. You let them die with dignity. I'd rather see The Observer close than see it become a midweek mag.
But just to make things clear, I don't want The Observer to close. If alternatives are lacking, however, we can't let blind brand loyalty get in the way of responsibility. Because if The Observer continues to print and continues to lose money, it could just bring The Guardian down with it.
The front page of The Daily Telegraph today has a story that leads: £224 EXTRA ON POWER BILLS FOR CUSTOMERS WHO DON'T PAY ONLINE. Shocking? Hardly. Clutching at straws? Almost certainly. But in clutching at these straws, the national press has instead grasped the wrong end of the stick - again.
Let's forget for a minute how minor a story this actually is to make the front page - apart from anything else, it's PR from price comparison site uSwitch - because it does perfectly fit the average Telegraph reader's suspicious view towards technology (and besides, the accompanying downpage story is GIRLS ARE BORN WITH FEAR OF SPIDERS, SAY SCIENTISTS).
No, let's instead look at the fact that it's a load of bollocks.
The claim is that customers who pay their energy bills in the traditional methods - cash, cheque, blood, children - have to part with more money than those who pay online. This is certainly true. But the story attacks energy providers for roasting that old chestnut 'the digital divide', claiming in its opening sentence:
Nearly 14 million households are being penalised for not setting up an online account to pay their energy bills.
What the writer fails to understand, or fails to recognise, is that they aren't being penalised - online customers are being rewarded. There is a difference. In fact, non-online customers are saving money.
Their bills have been cut. Yes, cut. But online bills have been cut by more, to reward customers for choosing to save paper (because that's obviously the reason they set up an online account). I'm no green freak but I know that cutting down on paper use is A Very Good Thing, and online bills should be encouraged for that very reason.
This is not a tax on people who don't use the internet, as the naysayers (nay)say. To use the same analogy, it's a tax rebate for those who do use it.
Audrey Gallagher, energy expert at Government-funded watchdog Consumer Focus, said, "All too often it's vulnerable customers, such as older people, who lose out", but once again, they're not. 'Older, vulnerable' people are not paying anything more than they used to; they're simply not saving as much as 'younger, invulnerable' online customers.
What kind of dog-in-a-manger society is this, that we can't allow other people to save money if we're not saving it as well? Why don't we firebomb building societies with a better interest rate than our own while we're at it?
I'm appalled by this news that student loans and grants are to be frozen while tuition fees are set to rise a further two per cent.
In no way is this fair on the record number of students applying for university places this year. I completely understand that we are in a difficult financial situation and to that end, freezing student loans and grants may be a good idea. But you can't do that if you are going to raise tuition fees. You can't have one and not the other; it's both or neither.
Final nominations for the PFA Players' Player of the Year have been announced, and there are two things I feel should be noted.
One: anyone who keeps banging on about the foreign invasion of the Premiership (which, admittedly, is sometimes me) needs to see how three of the six players shortlisted are British, and how five of the six shortlisted for Young Player of the Year - Ashley Young, Gabriel Agbonlahor, Stephen Ireland, Jonny Evans, Aaron Lennon; basically everyone bar Rafael - are English or Irish as well. British football ain't dead yet, boyos.
Two... well, read on. There's a bit of a theme with the players' players of the year this year.
And the nominees are:
Steven Gerrard (Liverpool) Cristiano Ronaldo (Manchester United) Nemanja Vidic (Manchester United) Ryan Giggs (Manchester United) Edwin Van Der Sar (Manchester United) Rio Ferdinand (Manchester United)
Yup, Man Utd pretty much have it in the bag. They have been good this year, and their defence in particular has been annoyingly phenomenal, but they’ve not been so good that 18 teams should just be forgotten in the annual awards. Where are the lesser-knowns, who have had great seasons for clubs that aren’t in the Big Four? The Gardners; the Jagielkas; the Robinhos (ahem, perhaps not). It’s not all about the title race, guys.
Besuited bigwigs aren’t to blame, of course; this is the Players’ Player award we’re talking about. It’s not surprising Manchester United players feature heavily because they’re the best team in the Premiership, and it’s Premiership footballers voting. Naturally, they know who the real threats are. Still, it’s a bit dull.
The bookies are favouring Vidic, perhaps surprisingly. “Why’s that a surprise?” you ask. “He’s been one of the most consistently solid players in the league this year.” Perfectly true – but he’s not very interesting, and the Players’ Player of the Year awards do tend to favour the obvious. Ronaldo’s won it for the last two years, and before Gerrard and Terry, there were consecutive awards for Thierry Henry. I’m surprised to see no out-and-out strikers in this year’s line-up, but as United and Liverpool have found this year, when you have Ronaldo, Giggs and Gerrard, you don’t need strikers (actually, that’s a lie – Liverpool do need Torres).
My workmates, who, working for FourFourTwo, are actually allowed to be considered professional pundits in my eyes, are backing Ryan Giggs, simply because he’s old and people can’t believe he’s still going. I’d like to see it happen myself, but I’m not convinced. Not unconvinced, but not convinced either.
But before you accuse me of getting all comfy on this fence, I will tell you that I’ve been looking at the odds and some intrigue me.
For example, Blue Square is offering 33-1 on either Ferdinand or Van Der Sar, and I’m definitely tempted to put a pound on the latter – again, because it’s obvious. Goalkeepers don’t win this award – the last one to do it was Peter Shilton in 1977-8 – but if they’re ever going to, breaking the record for consecutive clean sheets will do it. Van Der Sar’s definitely worth a cheeky punt.
So too is Ronaldo: a predictable choice, but at 12-1 on Blue Square, a potentially lucrative one. Those are inexplicably long odds for a man looking to be the first player to win the award three times – and in a bloody row as well.
But even after all this, I want the bookies’ joint-favourite Gerrard to win. I bloody hate Man Utd.
Bad news for Team GB: eight sports have had their funding slashed ahead of the 2012 London Olympics.
They're all relatively minor sports, but the cuts are major enough: water polo is losing half of its budget and shooting will be forced to scale down from 46 funded athletes to 10. Several teams, including water polo, may be forced to pull out of the 2012 Olympics, scuppering the Government's plans to field athletes in every... field.
Well, that's not good, is it? Especially after Britain's success in the Beijing Olympics last year. I can see a lot of people being disappointed with this - and not just the athletes. The British public has fallen in love with the idea of hosting the Olympics, and knowing their own country won't be able to compete in some events will be a major blow to morale. Also, the UK was given the Olympics on the basis it would be cheap - much cheaper than Beijing. I don't think withdrawing their own team was the idea they had in mind.
It's easy to say this kind of disappointment is inevitable in a recession, and to an extent it is, but that's not the direct reason for this. No - it's a £50m funding shortfall. Yeah. OK, enough beating around the bush: the Government failed to raise ANY MONEY AT ALL from the private sector. Not a single penny. Nothing. At. All.
So yes, indirectly the economy's general downward spiralling motion is arguably to blame because private companies aren't happy to be chucking about money at the moment, and certainly not into the training of younger athletes, contributing in turn to national success (much better to invest in Iceland, eh?).
But ultimately, the Government itself must take some responsibility for failing to marshal the private sector into investing in Britain's sporting future. I don't know quite what its level of campaigning was, but clearly it wasn't enough.
I know one thing, though:
taxpayers will not be happy. Reading The Metro tomorrow morning on the bus to work, I can see them choking on their Nutri-Grains reading about how private business has let them down once again. "Why should we pay the money if they don't?", they'll ask. I don't think taxes will rise as a result of the funding shortfall - too unpopular, even with the excitement over the Games - but it's not going to help public attitudes towards companies that many see as having helped to land Britain in this economic mess in the first place. Class war, here we come: public vs. private sector. Now that's sport.
News has been singularly... singular this week, focusing on very little more than the fact we're all going to die. Sorry, I meant in relation to the credit crunch. Money isn't everything, people will tell you, but you can guarantee those people don't have investments in Iceland. People are justifiably terrified. And so it is that everyone equates losing their money with ultimate doom, on a personal as well as a global scale.
And no more so than the media, which has used this financial meltdown to give a masterclass in epic reporting – epic not just in the apparently apocalyptic situation, but in the sheer amount of space devoted to reporting it ("Read our coverage on pages 1-9!"). It's impressive, it's arguably necessary and it's definitely an opportunity worth taking if you're an editor, but the dramatic approaches taken by tabloids and broadsheets alike have made the mayor of New Orleans, clearly auditioning for a role in a disaster movie, look positively small-town.
I mean, I'd expect it from The Independent: if the Indy's front page isn't telling us we're all going to die it's because it's telling us to stop killing all the other species first. But The Guardian leading with the headline 'Staring into the abyss' was unexpected, especially when it came after a potentially encouraging bail-out proposal from the Government. They could have presented that very, very differently. Still, as much as people want to hear good news it's bad news that sells papers and at the moment, bad news is one of the few currencies in good stock. Even in the crunch, newspaper sales are booming. As far as the media's concerned, this is the Golden Age.
Banks not waving but drowning Mugabe in 'Bastard' shocker To Boo or Not To Boo Square Pegg Round Hollywood Banjo surgery
Banks not waving but drowning
Due to the nature of this once-a-week blog, it's actually incredibly difficult to comment on the current economic crisis because it develops far too quickly. Even during the course of a Government meeting people were losing money. There's not a lot I can add that will remain new by the time this goes live – but I do find it interesting that as I write, four major British banks have just asked the Government for up to £50 billion of taxpayers' money. With what I said above in mind, I look forward to Monday's headlines.
With an announcement being planned before the markets open on Monday, I won't attempt to predict nor evaluate the Government's response. The request itself intrigues me. It's highly unlikely RBS, HBOS, Lloyds TSB and Barclays would try to pull a fast one and capitalise on capitalism's crisis because the risk is just too great if the public ever finds out these banks were being charlatans with their hard-earned money. So they must actually need this money urgently. Nevertheless, you do wonder what they were expecting to have to do in return. Money doesn't grow on trees, even for the biggest branches.
Dear God, that was awful.
The Government is expecting to demand something back from these banks such as a curb on executive pay, although the terms will be decided individually. This is likely to have been predicted by the banks; either that or someone has made a monumental cock-up in the ideas department on the 17th floor. "Look, the Government's giving out freebies – let's get it in on this." "We heard back, and they said they'll give us the money, but you have to give up your bonuses." "Ah. Bugger."
It's more likely, though, that the banks saw this coming and still asked for the money, suggesting that they are, indeed, in trouble, or at least in need of a little shoring up (not that that is any more comforting to their customers). Such is the danger of getting loans from American banks in questionable financial situations. As a great Allied Dunbar ad once said, there may be trouble ahead for customers of RBS, Lloyds TSB, HBOS and Barclays. Not that it mentioned those banks specifically, 'cos, y'know, that's libellous.
There's also a danger that the Lloyds TSB-HBOS acronymic nightmare of a takeover might fall through, because Lloyds TSB wants to pay less now that HBOS managed to raise £12bn for the buy-out (more here). Sorry, guys. Read The Small Print. Try Before You Buy. Don't Save A Drowning Man If He'll Make You Drown Too. Look Both Ways Before You Cross The Road. Maybe not the last one. But yes, if they want to pay less money now because circumstances have changed then they should be told 'bad luck but that's life'. You'd think they'd know that right now.
Still, the Government might swing their way – and the ways of Barclays, and HBOS, and RBS. It'll be interesting to see what happens.
Disclaimer: I may or may not know anything about economics. And if you're wondering if I'm personally concerned about what's going on, don't worry – I'm fine. My money's with IceSave.
Mugabe in 'Bastard' shocker
A few weeks ago I expressed my concern over Morgan Tsvangirai, Prime Minister of Zimbabwe, admitting he would just "have to trust" co-leader President Robert Mugabe. Obviously Tsvangirai's not an idiot, and knew of what was in store when he agreed to share power with one of the most evil men to walk this earth (excuse the bias). Just a month later, however, the man Zimbabwe is relying upon has threatened to pull out of. It's all very well to mutter the words 'can't', 'stand', 'heat' and 'kitchen', but Mugabe's not just pulling funny faces – he wants to choose what government ministries his Zanu-PF party can control.
Were it a lesser offence you could claim, probably inaccurately, that Tsvangirai is just throwing his toys out the pram, but this negotiation over the division of ministries is one of the most important, and deadly serious, parts of the power-sharing deal. Mugabe is demanding that Zanu-PF is responsible for 14 of the 30 ministries, the main MDC 13 seats and the splinter faction of MDC, led by Arthur Mutambara, 3. Not so bad, you might think, but what ministries does Mugabe want? Defence, the media (i.e. Zanu-PF propaganda), foreign affairs (including aid) and, most terrifyingly of all, 'justice'. It would be funny were it not so tragic.
Tsvangirai, whose jurisdiction as leader of the MDC would include sport, the arts and the largely redundant ministry of constitutional affairs (the power!), has, thankfully, opposed this, but sadly he is not in a position to do much more than threaten resignation. This would effectively make governing Zimbabwe impossible, throwing quite a large spanner in the works, but it is worrying that he has to resort to this: threats to leave government himself, rather than threats to force Mugabe out. He is still very weak in this supposedly equal power-share, and although this is clearly a better situation than it was, it's not going to be enough for Tsvangirai to threaten a walk-out every time Mugabe tries his usual tricks, because he'll just keep doing it.
In short, if it's going to be a case of two steps forward, three steps back, then some sort of intervention is still needed.
(As a side note, has anyone noticed that Tsvangirai looks a bit like Guy Goma, the bloke mistakenly interviewed live by the BBC when they got the wrong man? Just me then.)
To Boo or Not To Boo
As much as I hate to sound like someone writing into Newsround, I think it's very sad that Ashley Cole was booed after his mistake led to a Kazakhstani goal in England's 5-1 victory at Wembley. I don't like the guy either – he cheated on Sheryl Crow! – but this was just one of those things. Everyone makes mistakes, and ultimately, it didn't matter. Picking out an individual player to harass because of one error when the entire team has spent the first half playing like lemons is a bit harsh, even if he is crap.
Square Pegg Round Hollywood
Since Americans supposedly love nerdy British charm, it's no real surprise that übergeek Simon Pegg has been welcomed into Hollywood. His new film How To Lose Friends And Alienate People, based on the memoirs of journalist Toby Young, has been a hit despite being, well, rubbish, and he's playing Scotty in the next Star Trek film. And now he has himself a book deal.
A three-book, seven-figure book deal, no less. The first will be an autobiography on his career, and the second and third will be non-fiction also.
Fair play to him, I suppose. But none of this seems right somehow. I know he's got to move on from Spaced and the like, but I've not been impressed by some of his recent career decisions.
There is definitely going to be a final part of the Edgar Wright/Simon Pegg/Nick Frost/Nira Park film trilogy, which is fantastic news, but I wasn't impressed that he apparently turned down the role of Rorschach in the new Watchmen adaptation – a nihilistic straight role in which he could potentially brilliant – then he appeared in a woeful romcom version of a true story about someone that nobody likes. Maybe he liked the challenge of trying to make Toby Young popular, but I don't think it's his responsibility to do that. He also alienated his good friend and co-worker Jessica Hynes somewhat when he took the departure into films; according to an interview she gave a couple of months ago, she felt she lost a friend. The book deal just seems to confirm that he's becoming less interested in making exciting new films, which is a shame.
Still, who am I, his mother? I'm sure he'll come good. The man's a hero for squares everywhere.
Banjo surgery
Finally, this is interesting.
I've always said banjos have a great purpose in life.
I must apologise for some naughty words appearing in this post. Such are the dangers of talking about professional football. Rest assured, though, that it's not me providing the swearing – it's the managers. Irresponsible bastards.
The blog's also a bit truncated – i.e. short – this week. After a hefty analysis of the first Obama vs. McCain debate last week, I thought it might be best for me to give American politics a rest this time round, even with the Palin/Biden showdown having taken place this week. So this is more lightweight, in focus and pounds of virtual paper.
Finally, you may have noticed a new section to the blog, available on the wall to the top-right of the page, as promised in my last post. There's nothing on it yet, but it'll happen, and it'll be about online journalism (well, I find it interesting). You may choose to ignore it or you may choose to read it. Obviously I'd prefer it if you did read it but just so you know: it won't be my opinions on the week that passed, as this is. It's not really affiliated with Huw Davies' Week Spot. Well, it is, because it's me writing it. But it's not the same blog. It's not the same sphere. It's not the same Huw Davies.
It's blogging, Jim, but not as we know it.
And now: normal service resumes.
Chancer of the Exchequer Churchill vs. The Daleks FuKinnear
Chancer of the Exchequer
The BBC reports that Alistair Darling, Chancellor of the Exchequer, has said he is willing to take "some pretty big steps" to stabilise British banking and the economy.
GOOD.
I'm not saying he should, necessarily, because I don't understand economics enough to suggest whether interference would be appropriate or not, and whether taking steps would be better than waiting it out. But I'm certainly glad to hear he is willing to take pretty big steps. You'd hope so. Otherwise, what is the point in government?
He also said he was looking at "a range of proposals". That is not convincing. Apart from the fact that every politician in the history of the world ever has said that exact sentence – or at least, none that I know of has said, "We are not looking at a range of proposals" – it's disconcerting to hear it from the Chancellor of the Exchequer because it doesn't tell us anything.
It is not news. Or rather, it shouldn't be. I'd hope that we are confident enough in our government to know they would take the steps necessary to bring this country out of a hole. We should be. We shouldn't, however, have to be reassured they would.
The fact is that people want something more concrete than that. Back in the day it was good enough to hear "Hey everybody, it's gonna be OK" when the economy was hitting the fan, but now, when people are completely, horribly terrified of losing their money, they want to know the Government has a plan – not that it will find one, but that it has one. Until then, words are not enough. And, as Obama and McCain's failure to immediately convince the majority about their plans for the economy proved (sorry, that's the last I say about America), people are happy – well, not happy, but prepared – to learn a bit more about financial politics than they previously were. That's the level of trust we have in our politicians now. And given that Darling thinks we can still be placated by vague promises, it's justified and probably necessary.
Sad, innit?
Churchill vs. The Daleks
It was Magazine Week all last week (or this week, if anyone reads this as soon as I post it), and to celebrate, Borders booksellers offered a buy-one-get-one-half-price deal on magazines and magazine subscriptions. Huzzah! Reason at last for me to buy The Oldie without feeling I should spend the money on pretending to be young.
There was also a poll, sponsored by the Periodical Publishers Association (PPA), to find Britain's favourite magazine cover. I know what you're thinking: what kind of sad bastard remembers their favourite front cover to a magazine? So to help us all out, a team of industry experts nominated some and whittled them down to a 'best of the best' shortlist of 16. Here they all are.
As those of you who have just looked at that link know, the Radio Times Dalek cover won. I'm not disappointed as such; more indifferent. I mean, it's an all right cover, I suppose. I'm not overwhelmed, but I'm not underwhelmed either. I'm 'whelmed'. It's a striking image to put on a front cover, but the 'Vote Dalek' slogan doesn't actually make any sense – it's just a very tenuous tie-in to the General Election that was happening at the time (if anything, it probably gained some votes from people taking the slogan as an order). So it's not all that clever, or clever at all in fact. Still, it doesn't need to be, and that's why it won. It's simple and it grabs your attention – and that's the point. Still, it'd be a downright lie to deny that a lot of those votes were members of the public thinking, "Ooh, Daleks!"
I honestly thought the NME's Beth Ditto cover would win, but I just as honestly hoped that Time Out would. It takes some balls to stick it to Winston Churchill – look how badly Hitler fared – but to do it on the anniversary of his death in the midst of some serious Churchillmania is about the bravest thing you can do as the editor of a magazine. Not only that but it's an amazing, attention-grabbing front cover; not to mention beautifully ironic in using Churchill's own 'V' sign as a 'fuck you' to the man himself.
It's a shame that Time Out is purely just a 'What's On' read now because we need some more political ferocity in our magazines, but maybe a guide to London isn't the best vessel for that. Still, we need something – before we all start voting Dalek.
FuKinnear
I'm sure you've all heard by now about Joe Kinnear's verbal tirade against certain members of the media in his first official press conference as Newcastle manager. If not, here it is in its full glory. I love The Guardian for printing this, but in all honesty it's hard not to when, as a journalist, you hear, "Write what you like. Makes no difference to me."
Choosing the best bit of this fantastic rant – please read all of it – is hard, but my personal favourites are the start –
"Which one is Simon Bird?"
"Me."
"You're a cunt."
- and the end:
"Enjoyed getting back in the swing of things?"
"Absolutely. I've loved every moment of it."
I actually don't have much to say about Kinnear's outburst except that I would love it to happen in football more often – love it. It's great to see a football manager wearing his heart on his sleeve and holding his career with invisible tongs. And it's not as if it was a one-off: brilliantly, Kinnear had to watch his first game in charge of Newcastle from the stands because he never finished serving a touchline ban at Nottingham Forest four years ago.
He was, of course, wrong to have such a go at the press. They reported the truth: that he had taken a day off from training on his first day of work, and they merely cast aspersions to tensions at the club – which, when you're in the relegation zone with allegedly one of the strongest squads in the country (uh... ), is likely to be the case. And as manager, however temporarily, of a team in difficulties, Kinnear should be trying to calm the waters, not rock the boat.
But I can't judge someone who provides me with that much entertainment. And thanks to Everton's wavering concentration before and after the half-time break, Newcastle grabbed a 2-2 draw today. Maybe there's life in the old Toon yet.
One (or rather two) of the most interesting and appealing things about blogging is its immediacy and its brevity. Why wait a day for a full-scale investigation into a story by a national newspaper when you can read a journalist's opinions on it straightaway, and in just five minutes?
Then I come in and cock it all up by blogging regularly once a week and at great length. I suppose one way of looking at it is that I'm stripping down the boundaries, man, and I'm not restricting myself to a blog's... restrictions. But alternatively, it might just be that I trust my readers to have good attention spans and a good enough memory to return later if they're short on time.
Why am I saying this now? Because, writing a piece on American politics as I speak – well, not literally, since I'm obviously writing this as I speak and as it happens I'm not actually speaking at all – I can tell you that it is going to be epic. There's just too much to say. Sorry.
So if you're looking for a quick opinion on the American presidential election, here it is: I am expecting and dreading a Republican victory. But if you want a bit more than that, read on. And if you don't have long to read this, as you are perfectly entitled to be, what with this being a blog and everything, you can always take a look at the other stories and bookmark the first one for later.
Hell, who am I to give you advice? This blog is for you, not me. I hope you enjoy it. Until next Sunday then.
McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet God Save The Queen Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes Alex Ferguson is a tosser Admin: a word to the wise
McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet
No blood on the carpet, but then it wasn't that dirty a fight. The first televised debate between John McCain and Barack Obama has been and gone and there was no clear winner. It was a surprisingly clean affair, with Obama's assertiveness, using the words "when I'm President", seeming a bit incongruous in a debate between two candidates striving to seek legitimacy rather than state a case for election.
Whether this will last remains to be seen. But equally fascinating were the shenanigans on McCain's side beforehand. The Republican candidate tried to postpone the debate to allow a greater concentration on the current financial crisis. He did not succeed.
It may look like weakness, but trying to delay the debate was actually a very shrewd move by McCain. Not only did it give the appearance of a candidate in touch with the common man worried where his money's going; it neutralised the blow the financial crisis has had on his campaign by showing that he acknowledged the problem and wanted to resolve it straightaway. Obama, on the other hand, was in danger of appearing a power-hungry outsider not interested in the people he wants to lead.
But he pulled it back with aggression and good old common sense. You want to help the economy, John? Don't we all? But people want to know – now – what you're planning to do and I don't see why that should happen behind closed doors. Doing two things at once is an integral part of leading the country and hey, if you're not ready to do that, I'm happy to step in.
The bail-out is interesting. It looks like a bit of a rabbit out of a hat, but it was always on the cards. Matt, the cartoonist in The Telegraph, drew a fantastic cartoon, reproduced here with thanks, that sums it up quite well.
And the debate itself? Well... it's complicated – which is why analysts are choosing to strip it down by saying that McCain won on the all-important foreign policy front, but it was essentially a draw. I'm not sure about that. Obama made the better points but McCain made the better appearance and sadly, that's what's going to count. I would say that although neither candidate emerged a clear winner, McCain probably just edged ahead in the stakes.
He drove home the experience card. I mean, he rammed it home. Everything new that Obama suggested was brought back to his alleged inexperience, and although that is his stock response, McCain was able to highlight
his own experience to bring up good decisions he made on foreign policy (apparently there are some) earlier in his career. At one point he reacted to Obama's plan to negotiate with foreign threats by saying, "So let me get this right: we sit down with Ahmadinejad and he says, 'We're going to wipe Israel off the face of the Earth' and we say, 'No, you're not'? Oh please." That was damaging. Even though McCain was parodying Obama's supposed naïveté to an extreme, it made the Democratic senator a laughing stock in the hall and suggested he's... well... just too nice to tackle terrorism.
McCain automatically has the problem of having to admit to mistakes the Republicans have made in office, but he's somehow working it to his advantage. "We Republicans came to power to change government, and government changed us." Humility, however false. If Obama points out errors made in the Bush administration – such as landing the country in $700 billion of debt – then unless McCain is personally involved he can reply, "Yes, we've made mistakes, but I can change that", or even "I regret that mistake but I've learnt from it", bringing him back to the advantage of his experience. He also wins the award for stating the obvious: "We cannot allow a second Holocaust – let's make that very clear." Thanks for that, John.
And most powerfully, he can rally the troops. He used the debate over the financial crisis to say he has a fundamental belief in the American worker, whom he claims is better than any other in the world, to pull America out of this hole through sheer hard work. Who cares that an individual's hard work can't pull a country out of a $700 billion debt? McCain realises how much sweat I put into my job. He's on our side, unlike that black commie. I'm great! We're great! U-S-A! U-S-A!
Combine this with Obama's perceived class-related elitism and you have a problem: how can he win the blue-collar worker away from 'working man' McCain? Yes, this is bollocks, but that's their respective reputations in working-class America.
Obama's wry humour on politics can not only undermine him beside McCain's serious 'I care about American people' approach, but also appear patronising. Saying things like, "We had a 20th century mindset that basically said, 'Well, you know, [Musharraf] may be a dictator, but he's our dictator'" can come across as belittling the American public, suggesting they can't understand global politics without it being dumbed down, and however true that may be, that's not an image you want. It's a shame, because Obama has a head for a great turn of phrase, but his superb rhetoric may well act against him, not for him.
He also stuttered a bit in the debate, which I wasn't expecting, and has the unfortunate verbal tic of saying "y'know" a lot. However quickly he says it and however hard he swallows it, that "y'know" makes him appear less confident and less certain about his views. McCain's catchphrase seems to be "I'll tell ya", which is a lot more grabbing. Amazingly, his is often the real oratory.
The fact is that McCain 'won' the debate, at least on foreign policy, because he connects with more Americans. If one candidate responds to a question about Russia by talking about energy resources, and the other says he looked into Putin's eyes and saw three letters: a K, a G and a B, guess which will have workers talking by the water cooler about him. Yes, it's cheesy, yes, it's glib, but it's popular and it's going to win him the election.
I'm sorry. Excuse my pessimism. But mark my words: come Christmas, John McCain is probably going to be President of the United States of America.
We're in trouble.
God Save The Queen
Not another poll saying the Tories are ahead of us. I'm not holding a bloody election. I'm Prime Minister, not Cameron. We need to do something. What do people care about? Quick, Bryant, hand me that Daily Mail. Ah, the monarchy, eh? Very well – let's do something about it. That'll show 'em who's boss.
After a constitutional review by MP Chris Bryant, the Government is planning to rejig the way succession of the throne runs in this country. The law stating that Catholics cannot be King or Queen, and indeed that anyone inheriting the throne must make before parliament a declaration rejecting Catholicism, is to be thrown out, and so too is the requirement that the crown is automatically passed to a male heir. This means that Prince William's firstborn would be monarch upon his death even she was female.
It's a sound suggestion that obviously makes a lot of sense – there's no reason why even monarchy, the least democratic concept in the country, should be party to sexism and Catholic-bashing. I'm sure it's news that thrills Catholics and women alike, not to mention Catholic women. Finally, that insurmountable barrier is gone. They too can be Queen.
Hang on one crazy little minute though – don't you still have to be part of the royal family to do that? Isn't there some sort of requirement for someone to be born to a monarch to become one? Isn't this basically a minor amendment to an undemocratic system, perpetuating an antiquated outdated practice through supposed modernisation, and probably designed to get people behind the Labour Government again even though it affects them in absolutely no way?
I do love how people are celebrating this 'widening out' of succession, as if anyone can be King or Queen of the country now. It doesn't quite work like that. And it's a bit stupid to claim the current rules prohibiting women and Catholics from taking the throne 'clashes with the Human Rights Act'. The whole bloody idea of monarchy clashes with the Human Rights Act. Stop trying to polish a tiara-shaped turd.
Still, it's just making it fairer to those who are in line to the throne, and that runs deeper than you might think. The current law banning Catholics from the throne also applies to sons and daughters of Catholics, and those who marry them (honestly, this makes Catholics sound like mutants or something). Earlier this year Princess Anne's son Peter Phillips married Autumn Kelly, who was baptised a Catholic. He would have lost his place as 11th in line for the throne (blimey, that was a close one) but Kelly recanted her Catholicism.
Things have changed a little since the days of Thomas More. Put a crown and a sceptre in front of a wavering Catholic and they might just do a quick St. Peter impression – Jesus who?
Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes
Are you CTD? An FLK? NFN? How about GROLIES? Let's hope not. But rest assured you won't be for long – these abbreviations are falling out of fashion.
In medical circles these terms used to be thrown around like confetti, but apparently, no longer. Since you ask, they are acronyms used to describe patients, and just to warn you, most of them aren't that positive. CTD means 'Circling The Drain' (as in, dying quite rapidly), FLK means 'Funny-Looking Kid', NFN stands for 'Normal For Norfolk' (nice) and the innovative GROLIES denotes the description 'Guardian Reader Of Low Intelligence in Ethnic Skirt'.
Clearly these are brilliant, and should never fall out of fashion. My favourite was once DTS, used to describe obese patients. It means 'Danger To Shipping'. Now, though, I have fallen in love with the medical phrase TEETH, an abbreviated form of 'Tried Everything Else; Try Homeopathy'. One more secret of the medical world blown apart there.
But these acronyms aren't being used much any more, and who can be surprised? We live in a compensation culture: if you can sue somebody, you sue somebody. Twice. Surgeons are in constant fear of losing thousands if they don't get an operation exactly, perfectly right; why are they going to take risks with their job, reputation and wallet by calling a patient 'GPO' (Good for Parts Only)? What if the patient finds out? The doctor's immediately trying to settle out of court.
I don't know. Modern life is just ruining medical comedy. To quote Thornton Reed in Garth Marenghi's Darkplace: "The main reason I went into [medicine] was for the laughs – that and the pussy, and the pussy dried up a long time ago if you get my drift."
Sorry. Please don't sue me.
Alex Ferguson is a tosser
I've never liked Alex Ferguson.
When I was a naive young Spurs fan (i.e. from toddlerhood up until a few months ago, when I tore up my figurative season ticket through protest at how the club treated Dimitar Berbatov) I became increasingly frustrated with Manchester United grabbing last-minute equalisers/winners against us in the eighth minute of questionable injury time, and for this I blamed Ferguson's obvious manipulation
of referees and referees' assistants. Add to this his supreme arrogance, his absurd excuses and above all his incessant whining about referees being biased against his team – even though United have clearly had more luck with decisions than any other club in the world, ever – and you get a man that I would immediately consign to Room 101 without a second thought for his family, his friends if he has any, or the mistreatment of a grand Orwellian concept by BBC television.
But in recent months and years my intense hatred towards this waste of human tissue has been quelled slightly by another manager of equal detestitude (yes, I made that up). Arsene Wenger. Never before has such a whining hypocritical coward walked this Earth, and frankly I find it hilarious whenever Arsenal lose just because their manager is an arse.
But Ferguson's comments after their 2-0 win over Bolton have brought it all flooding back. Manchester United got a dodgy penalty after a fantastic tackle by Jlloyd JSamuel of JBolton was adjudged to be indecent. United took the chance and took the lead after an hour of being held at 0-0. Bolton boss Gary Megson called the decision "absolute nonsense" and "an absolute howler" (someone give the man a thesaurus). Ferguson responded, "I was surprised because it looked as though their lad got a foot on the ball," then, "But Rob Styles turned us down four or five times last year so maybe it is payback time. But he still owes us another four."
SHUT THE HELL UP. There is not some great conspiracy against your team, Fergs; on the contrary, referees have spent the last 15 years losing themselves in your colon. If it's beginning to even up now (I'm told decisions have finally been going against United) then that's justice, and to be honest, not enough of it. Rob Styles has not been giving bad decisions against Manchester United, and if he has it's pathetic bringing it up now. Let. It. Go.
I've never liked Alex Ferguson.
Admin: a word to the wise
Sorry, just a brief bit of shopkeeping. I have recently undertaken a new university course and for my studies I will need to keep a blog. It won't be in the same vein as Huw Davies' Week Spot, and it won't be updated only on Sundays. It will be on this site, or perhaps another site connected by an internal link, but I will endeavour to keep it separate from this review of the week's events. So if, in the next few weeks, you see a new section to this blog, don't be scared - it's all part of the plan.
Changes in life, however small, can make you think quite deeply. New purchases can help us to take on fresh challenges, do new things and achieve our dreams. They can draw a line in the sand between the old and the new; the past and the present; the present and the future. They can represent a new you, or help you to develop the old one.
And I can write this on my new laptop in half the time it usually takes because Microsoft Word isn't crashing every few sentences.
An Impolite Police (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love To Rant) Bye Bye Beijing - Time for a Whole Lotta London Here Comes the Science Tories and YouTubers in 'Sense of Humour Failure' Shocker Picture Puzzle: Another Prick In The Wall
An Impolite Police (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love To Rant)
Forgive me while I go a bit Daily Express "It's a bloody outrage" on you, but I find myself increasingly disturbed upon hearing about policemen and women abusing their authority. I'm not talking about inside men on bank heists or anything – this isn't The Bill – but minor violations of the law committed for no reason. They show there are a lot of officers who feel that because they wear a police badge they can do whatever the hell they want.
This week I read that a man was arrested for taking a photo of a policeman who had driven through a 'no entry' sign (well, not literally, but you know what I mean). Andrew Carter generously pointed out the officer's mistake, to which PC Aqil Farooq responded, "F*ck off, this is police business." Carter took a photo of the van and its driver, and Farooq, suddenly abandoning whatever business he had in the Bristol chip shop that was so important he could ignore road signs, ran out and knocked the camera from his hand. He then arrested Carter for being drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law (none of which happened). Carter was handcuffed, had his fingerprints taken, was forced to give a DNA sample and spent five hours in gaol before being released on bail.
Somewhat defeating the object of opinion-writing journalism, I don't have much to say about this story, except that it makes me very angry. Yes, I know that most police officers aren’t like Farooq and that it's just an isolated incident blown up by a self-righteous alarmist press etc. etc., but I'm firmly of the opinion that anyone in a responsible public position – be they a politician or a lowly policeman – should have to pay the consequences for any deliberate misdeeds made on duty. Everyone makes mistakes, sure, but this wasn't a mistake. It was deliberate false arrest and wrongful imprisonment. Farooq showed that he was making a mockery of his job and, quite simply, should have been sacked.
Instead, he was made to apologise in person to Andrew Carter. Well, that’s all right then. Let bygones be bygones, let water pass under the bridge and let Farooq do it again to some other poor unsuspecting sod. Because he hasn't learnt his lesson. Why would he have done?
I've never liked the idea of having to apologise to someone being a punishment. When you're a child, maybe. But when you're an adult committing a professional crime, it's not quite enough, somehow. Farooq's boss also said, "he acknowledged what he did was wrong", which is taken straight out of the mouth of a chiding parent.
Pathetic. Sorry, is that not tabloid enough? It sickens me to the very core. That's better.
Bye Bye Beijing - Time for a Whole Lotta London
It's not often I agree with an idea suggested in a letter to The Daily Telegraph. I do enjoy reading them, usually for the terrified paranoia that Britain is going to be invaded by immigrant criminals at the behest of port-swilling Brussels bureaucrats (or the glum acceptance that it's already happened), but rarely do I agree with anything they're saying.
But one reader proposed that, if the British Government is so desperate for London 2012 Olympics money (and it is), it should make use of the fervour currently sweeping the nation and ask for voluntary donations to the fund. Good idea.
The public will have to put up some money anyway, and possibly for a long time afterward: Montreal hosted the Olympics in 1976, and Quebecian taxpayers were still paying for the main stadium, 'The Big O(we)', in December 2006 – more than 30 years later. Since no one likes taxes, raising them nearer the time to pay for the Olympics will make whomsoever is running the country by then very unpopular. It makes sense to ask for some of that money now, rather than demand it later. You may mock, but people have got carried away in the excitement of it all, especially since this British success has come as such a surprise (doesn't it always?). Ask the public to put its money where its mouth is and while it's still agape with shock, cash should come flowing out. Well, some will anyway; I'm not expecting millions to miraculously materialise overnight. But you never know.
The Beijing Olympics have, after all, provided an incredible spectacle. It takes some effort to sweep human rights abuses and some of the highest levels of air pollution in the developed world under the red carpet but by gum, they managed it (Chinese efficiency, you see). The opening ceremony stunned everyone into silence – even nine-year-old Lin Miaoke, who was meant to be singing – and the athletes did their bit too. I can even forgive Usain Bolt for being only two months older than me, because he's my kind of athlete. It's been a literally marvellous showcase of sport and athletics performed by competitors at the peak of their powers – exactly how the Olympics should be.
And most importantly for Britain in these crucial Games, we've done pretty well. 47 medals including 19 golds, placing Team GB 4th in the medals table, has shown that we'll be ready even if our stadiums won't. Cycling, sailing, rowing: it just goes to show that if we plucky Brits put our mind to it, we can be worldbeaters... as long as we're allowed to sit down.
And the British people want a great London Olympics. They're feeling inspired, but in all likelihood, most of them are too lazy to go down the gym or get the bike out of the garage; why not exploit their nationalistic euphoria by relieving them of their money and make them feel like they're contributing?
(Since you ask: no, I won't be paying anything.)
I did find it interesting, though, to hear that Led Zeppelin had to change the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love, which was performed at the handover ceremony on Sunday. Apparently "I'm gonna give you every inch of my love" is a bit risqué. It makes sense, perhaps, to change the line to "every bit of my love" – especially since Leona Lewis was singing it and, well, being a woman she doesn't have any inches to speak of – but it did remind me a bit of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' appearance on The Simpsons:
"The network has a problem with some of your lyrics. Do you mind changing them for the show?"
"Our lyrics are like our children, man – no way."
"OK, but here where it says, 'What I got you gotta get and put it in ya', how about just, 'What I'd like is I'd like to hug and kiss ya'?"
"Wow, that's much better. Everyone can enjoy that."
Personally, I find it ironic that in a celebration of Britain's emerging young talent, the music was provided by aged rockers reforming after nearly 30 years. Still, at least they're brilliant. It could so easily have been Take That.
Here Comes the Science
One of my bête noirs – the one that isn't pretentious use of French – is scientists coming up with utterly useless discoveries.
Sometimes they're already obvious, sometimes they're just completely inapplicable to anything and sometimes they're both, but they happen all the time. If it's not a geneticist declaring that black parents have black children, it's a behavioural analyst claiming that people who had a happy childhood are more socially able than those who spent their formative years crying in a box. One case that irritated me last year was a study erroneously and irresponsibly claiming that pupils born later in the school year do "significantly worse" than those born up to a year earlier. My vitriol on that report has already been spent here.
Now Dr Will Brown has 'discovered' that men find "shorter, slimmer females with long slender legs, a curvy figure and larger breasts" most physically attractive. Well... obviously.
What is the point in dedicating time and money to this study? Even if the report has a scientific revelation somewhere (and I'm not sure it does), surely there is little merit in its results because everybody already knew them. It's so stupid. You get the feeling, too, that he would have found this out a lot quicker just by observing life had he not spent his in the lab.
The study also found that people prefer symmetry in a face, defusing the argument that "Everyone loves a face with character" (a character with a face, that's what you want). Again, we know this. And what exactly can you do as a result of these findings anyway? Get a face transplant? New body dimensions? Why would a scientist bother wasting his intelligence on investigating such a pointless issue?
It's not easy to make this argument as someone who wants to write for a living. After all, what am I doing to change the world? Would it be fair for me to say that anyone who commits themselves to a life of research should make sure it's cancer-related? No. But their research could at least be useful. And I personally don't believe that, when he was studying, Dr Will Brown dreamt he could one day blow apart the myth that most men are physically attracted to tall women with broad shoulders and no breasts. All we can do is hope that these people look inside themselves and use their experience more responsibly.
But I'm not hopeful. "In his next study, Dr Brown plans to prove how attractively tall men with short legs are able to dance."
WHY?
Tories and YouTubers in 'Sense of Humour Failure' Shocker
You can, of course, take the 'time and money' argument too far, as the Conservative Party did this week. I don't know if it was them personally or the Official Opposition line that has to be taken on things like this, but it did not endear me to Cameron & Co. in the slightest.
The Government recently released a short video response to the online petition asking for Jeremy Clarkson to become Prime Minister. Watch it here. It's less than a minute long and seems to have been made with a handheld video camera and Microsoft PowerPoint. No10 themselves admitted, "A member of staff put it together in a spare half-hour."
And what's the Tories' response? "While the British public is having to tighten its belt the Government is spending taxpayers' money on a completely frivolous project. This shows how detached the Labour Party has become from the concerns of the British people."
They're not alone. Some of the many angry YouTube comments include "waste of tax money" and "why are they using my money to make youtube videos?"
Surely this is some sort of joke? How much money can that video have cost? And isn't it good that the Government should try to cheer up a despondent public in the middle of a recession? Even if you'd rather politicians stuck to business, it would be insane to claim this is betraying the taxpayer. But that's what the Conservative Party is doing.
Grow up and get a sense of humour.
Picture Puzzle: Another Prick In The Wall
A fantastic action photo from England's 2-2 draw with the Czech Republic prompted me to think about its deeper meaning. Look closely at the England players in a wall and see what you can learn from their reactions to the free kick being taken. You may see more than you think.
(With thanks to Action Images, WNSL and The Daily Telegraph)
From right to left:
Beckham - distant from the rest, he looks on with barely feigned interest from his safe spot in America/at the far end of the wall. Also stupid enough not to know where his balls are.
Barry - trying hard but looks uneasy not in the middle and has Lampard and Gerrard standing in the way of a link-up with Rooney.
Lampard - wrestling for space with Gerrard and Barry. Higher than the rest but for how long?
Gerrard - holding his breath. So are we, Stevie.
Rooney - ugly bastard.
Ashley Cole - not the face. Or the balls - I need those for, uh, Cheryl. Jump? What do you mean, jump?
It's surprisingly easy to get the news in Madeira. I know I shouldn't be surprised - Funchal is a popular tourist spot on an island off the coast of Portugal, not a windswept rock in the middle of a cultural black hole - but given that all I'd be able to understand in a Portuguese paper would be 'Obrigado' and 'Cristiano Ronaldo', and considering how difficult it can be to get foreign-language papers in the UK, I find myself delerious with delight at seeing an English newspaper, even if it is The Mail.
Truth is, there's a newsagent's on practically every corner offering an impressive range of English rags. They're printed in Europe and imported as soon as they can be, generally being ready to buy around lunchtime. They're also quite expensive: a Guardian costs me €3.90 (about £3.25), which I personally think is a bit cheeky. Still, it's worth it to keep up-to-date and free hotel internet access makes a happy Huw.
And, you may be asking, why aren't I off enjoying my holiday instead of lying in the sun beside a rooftop swimming pool, admiring a spectacular view, drinking a cool beer and writing what I think about the world?
Well, I'm committed, 'tis all.
(So committed, in fact, that I got a bit carried away with these stories and they turned from blog posts into epic blog posts into full-blown articles. Sorry about that.)
The price of progress The appealing's Mutu-al Flogging a dead horse (then rigorously washing my hands)
The price of progress
So, A-Level results time once again. And once again, it's a record-breaking year, with the pass rate topping 97% for the first time and more As being awarded than ever before.
Shit! Disaster! Continuing success! A-Levels must be getting easier. If seven-year-old twins can get a D in an AS-Level Maths paper, how hard can it be? Void the results. Better still, scrap the entire system. When one in four results are As and one in ten pupils are getting three of them – and when my old school comes first in the national league tables (schwing!) – something must be wrong. Right?
Or maybe – just maybe – schools are getting better, pupils are getting cleverer and those twins are just geniii. Maybe this reaction to A-Level results is the wrong kind of euphoria. I know it's terribly British to fail and everything, but when the Government is discussing plans to reduce the number of happy, successful pupils, it makes you wonder what they want from them.
To be fair, some changes in the A-Level system may be required. 5000 pupils who went on to get three As were turned away by Oxford last year, and that number is expected to have increased this year. Pupils are doing so well that it is becoming harder to distinguish the best of the best. But that's not their fault, and I resent the automatically negative response towards them, as if they have chosen an easier ride; as if they have taken advantage of the system; as if they have cheated in some way. No, their results are not meaningless. Regardless of how easy to attain good results may or may not be, most pupils have worked bloody hard for them and we can't – or shouldn't – take that away from them.
But while hard-working, intelligent pupils are missing out on university places because others are doing just as well (again, no one's fault), Something Must Be Done – but to help them out, not set them back. There needs to be a better way of setting apart pupils with similar results, even if that does mean more work for them. It's fairer on them in the long run.
So what's to be done? Here are a few suggestions off the top of my head, and off the tops of the heads of others (i.e. I've stolen them from existing plans).
--- Drop General Studies. It's pointless, nobody takes it seriously (least of all universities) and even if you don't revise for it, it takes up lesson time and exam period time that could be spent revising for real subjects.
--- Encourage universities to demand four A-Levels from a student instead of three. More results = a greater chance of differentiation. I'm not sure about this one, because although there's room in a student's timetable for a fourth subject (seeing as most drop one after AS-Level) it would increase workload and resultant stress to potentially harmful levels. Admittedly this would separate the men from the boys – statistically, the girls would probably be fine – but three A-Levels are stressful enough (in fact, pupils' stress levels are apparently higher than ever before). Still, one to think about.
--- One Government plan is a university-style dissertation to be taken alongside A-Levels, in the form of an extended project. I think this would be good. It's more suited to Higher Education, helping students to prepare for the intellectual rigours of university and helping universities to gauge who the more promising applicants are. It would also encourage A-Level pupils to show a bit of initiative, accustomed as they are to the highly specific narrow-field approach to learning, with practice papers and mark schemes telling them exactly what to write (though plans are afoot to change this). A pilot of the dissertation scheme saw pupils discussing global warming and voting ages (danger: General Studies!) but another approach could be to incorporate the longer study into a subject. This would avoid too much added workload (see above), though the current plans are for the projects to be worth half an A-Level, not a whole one.
--- Introduce an A* grade. This is probably going to happen in 2010 and provided it's hard enough to get one, it should help significantly. Incredibly, some big universities have said they'll ignore the A* system because it will favour better-prepared, better-educated students from more affluent areas. What the hell?
--- Interview more students. Whatever happened to the university interview anyway? If you have two or more students of precisely the same academic calibre, it only makes sense to compare their performances in an interview.
--- Leave the International Baccalaureate well alone. It's crap. Just say no, kids.
--- Most importantly, leave the poor sods alone. They've done what they were told, worked hard and achieved some good grades. What benefit is there in telling them they're worthless?
The appealing's Mutu-al
Sport often welcomes greed – just look at Michael Phelps' diet, guaranteed to get kids begging their parents for the right to eat handfuls of crap all day – but Chelsea FC really rolls out the red carpet. That's the common perception, anyway, and it's hard not to agree when the club tries to fine an individual nearly £14 million for an indiscretion four years previously.
And, to the probable indifference of Roman '£12 billion' Abramovic, it has succeeded. Adrian Mutu will have to pay the London club £13.8 million in damages
(depending which paper he reads – some reckon it's actually £13.68 million). Mutu, now at Fiorentina, was a bit of a scamp in his Chelsea days and in October 2004 was caught red-handed and white-nosed chin-deep in trough full of cocaine. All right, that's a slight exaggeration: he tested positive for cocaine after Chelsea got suspicious he was up to something, having put in some lacklustre training performances (not surprising: if you're being paid five-figure sums of money a week for doing very little you should at least look like you give a shit). Mutu was sacked by the club, banned from football for seven months and had to pay a £20,000 fine. Such is the price of coke these days.
And now Chelsea want £13.8 million from him in compensation. For what, though? What did Chelsea suffer as a result of Mutu's shenanigans that justifies demanding that amount of money from him?
Reputation is the first thing to spring to mind. Employing cocaine junkies isn't exactly keeping up appearances. But when you consider they're not exactly beloved by all anyway, how much did Chelsea's reputation really suffer from the bust? Not much. Not at all, really. Mutu got the flak, and rightly so. The PFA (Professional Footballers' Association) accused Chelsea of failing in its “duty of care” towards their players in sacking Mutu; after all, he'd committed himself to rehab and was having a difficult time of it, what with his wife and kids having left him (the reason he'd fallen into drugs in the first place). But Chelsea received almost universal support for their decision, because it made professional sense – they bought Mutu to play football and he got himself banned from the game for seven months. It doesn't matter that he would have spent most of that time on the bench. Harsh as it was, Chelsea made the right decision, and people knew it. And how cares what the PFA thinks anyway?
The real issue, of course, is that Chelsea want their money back. They feel a bit short-changed from the £15.8 million they gave Parma for Mutu's services (in 2003!), and want the player to reimburse them. But, come on, guys... really? Water under the bridge, man, water under Stamford Bridge. Besides, in the world of professional football faulty purchases don't have a warranty. You can't seek compensation for a signing that went awry. If you could, you'd think Chelsea would want some money back from the £10 million they paid for Chris '28 appearances, 1 goal' Sutton in 1999.
What it comes down to is that Chelsea want Mutu to pay for showing them up. That's pretty unreasonable in my eyes – and £13.8 million? That's just plain greedy (especially when you consider it was originally £9.6 million and Chelsea appealed to make it more).
Mutu is expected to appeal. Damn right. He's got himself clean – time to wipe the slate clean as well.
Flogging a dead horse (then rigorously washing my hands)
Blimey.
An article I wrote on obsessive-compulsive disorder that some of you may have read recently got snapped up by that excellent purveyor of high-quality journalism The Guardian and was in G2 last Monday (the 11th). Obviously I´m very proud, and not above plugging it wherever possible. But given that this blog is me commenting on what I read in the papers, I thought I'd share my views.
On the whole, the piece was fairly well-written and not too painful to read, but I would have appreciated more information on OCD rather than one individual's relatively minor battle with it. This, I understand, was in its original publication in Cardiff University's award-winning newspaper gair rhydd, but giving the readers what they want demanded a more personal approach, I hear. Never mind - it was interesting to read about the chap's issues. He clearly needs to get out more.
