[blogfocus thursday] some home truths

This evening, we're dealing with absolute rubbish.

1 Matthew Sinclair shows that the most important issues are often those close to home:

More and more councils are having waste collection take place every other week. The Conservatives I am campaigning for are likely to introduce fortnightly collection. The change is a response to a major increase, by the government, in landfill charges. Councils can either take drastic action to increase recycling or face heavy new charges and be forced to cut other services or increase taxes.

Fortnightly collection is not popular, it comes up on the doorstep and people really resent it enough to change their vote.

2 Olly's Onions has the good oil on these rubbish collections:

Campaign to save weekly rubbish collection stepped up Refuse collectors across the country today appealed for support to help save the Daily Mail which has been publishing rubbish every week for over a hundred years. Oswald Mosley was last night unavailable for comment.

3 Speaking of the good oil, J. Arthur MacNumpty gives the Scottish lowdown on the infamous Eurovision voting system:

Brian Taylor has compared the STV system to the voting in the Eurovision Song Contest, of which I am a fan (stereotypical? moi?).

I disagree with him. Firstly, the ESC is closer to FPTP than STV - all though each nations' votes are ranked, the points are allocated according to ranking rather than proportion, so a song in first place can win by 5 votes in a country and get as many points (12) as if it had won by 50,000. Secondly, the people who draw up our electoral boundaries are obsessed with 'parity', i.e. getting the size of the electorate in each constituency to be as equal as possible, while in ESC, Malta and Andorra have the same voting strength as Turkey or France. Thirdly, the STV system does not allow voters in neighbouring areas to support each other's candidates.

4 Longrider writes of the counterproductivity of trying to bring pressure to bear on smokers to stop:

Well, I do have some personal experience of addiction and I am painfully aware just how difficult it can be to quit. But, and here’s the rub, the addict has to want to quit. NICE seems to be assuming that all those hooked on gaspers fall into that category. While many smokers talk the talk, most of them in my experience are happy enough to puff away given the opportunity.

Mrs Longrider has no intention of quitting, so her employer would be wasting time, effort and money trying to get her to do so. Indeed, the more the government and the health fascists try to make her into a pariah, the more determined she is to fight back and puff away regardless.

5 You're not going to know these gems unless you get yourself over to Mutley the Dog:

The first canal in Britain was not the Bridgewater Canal as is often claimed – it was the Ste Helens/Mersey Canal, known as Sankey Brook, which was opened in 1757. The Bridgewater Canal - used for transporting the Duke of Bridgewater’s extensive collection of travelling Commodes - did not open till 1761. One of those commodes, carved entirely from Ivory weighed nearly 3 tons, or the equivalent of seventeen middle sized motor cars. The Sankey canal was briefly filled with spermicide in the 1960s.

Between 1777 and 1896 it was illegal to urinate in a Canal or to dispose of turnip tops or pigs trotters. Curiously, it remained legal to defecate in a canal and specifically to dispose of all food remnants from barges.

6 The afficianados are going to know exactly what Peter Cruikshank is talking about:

People are beginning to wise up to the implications of allowing those cuddly Web2.0 services to host all that nice information your give* them (see Because you can’t do bettr than Flickr for instance for the enthusiasm that Web2.0 can generate - sorry Simon, only picking on you because my comment on your blog raises the issue of data protection)

In For Your Information | ‘Web 2.0′ and data control Peter Bradwell of Demos has picked up that even Tim O’Reilly (not a poor man, I don’t believe) has noticed that internet business are interested in money, not some dream of participatory democracy.

7 It's interesting that Wulf is writing of anonymity on the net and tracing comments back because he does seem to take direct comments himself [I might be mistaken]:

However, by and large, I think some level of identification is valuable. If I post a comment on someone else's blog, it is backed up by links back to other places I have made a mark. That online trail is only my representation of part of who I am but it gives an identifiable persona. Even for those who have never met me, or met those who have met me, "I" am unlikely to be a marketing bot designed to hawk a product (see my earlier posting, False Accounts) or a bored teenager creating a complex fantasy world to wind other people up.

Equally, I want some degree of traceability from those I encounter on my Internet travels, including those who might comment on my blog. Not addresses and bank details but simply the option of following their trail back a little way so I can decide what credence to give their contributions.

8 JMB admits what many of us know full well - we are not that technically savvy and it's a learning curve we all take. We go out this evening, as we started, with some home truths:

I have to tell you, quite ashamedly, that the reason I could not see how to resize in the photo software programs, which I already have on my computer, was that I did not have a file in place. As everyone but me already knows the relevant options are grey until you have an image to work on! I assumed it was because I had an inferior version which came with some hardware or other I had bought.

Well as I always say, these things are sent to make us humble when we get too big for our boots. Another of my sayings is that I hope to learn something new every day and yesterday I learned quite a few new things.

Hope to see you on Saturday evening, readers.

[carnival of cities] support colin campbell and blogpower

I just did it and it's easy:

1] find one of your posts on a city of the world - any one;
2] go over to Colin Campbell's site with the url and click on submit;
3] follow the instructions they give you;
4] take care of your other business, knowing you've done something worthwhile.

Let's get behind Colin on this.

[icelandic dichotomy] two finance heads at odds

Whenever I need a lighter post, I turn to Iceland. Do not think for one second I'm making fun of them. I just love their quaint way of doing and reporting things, that's all - very direct, saying what they think, finding practical solutions and lacking hype and spin.

Take this classic from yesterday: Finance Ministry and Central Bank at odds:

At a public meeting yesterday the Finance Ministry introduced its economic forecast for the remainder of the year, which is very different from the economic forecast recently released by the Central Bank of Iceland.

According to Thorsteinn Thorgeirsson, office manager of the Finance Ministry’s economic department . . . the economy will reach equilibrium towards the end of the year and the Central Bank will reach its target inflation of a 2.5 percent, which will remain within tolerance limits over the next few years.

Thorgeirsson predicted that economic growth would be less than one percent this year, due to a reversal in foreign investment. He also predicted the trade deficit balance would go through a rapid recession and reach almost 16 percent of GDP by the end of the year, due to increased export of aluminium and a decrease in imports. Last year the trade deficit was 26.7 percent.

While Thorgeirsson predicted a soft landing for the economy, the Central Bank predicted a hard transition over the next two years, as the research department of Landsbanki Bank pointed out. Representatives of Landsbanki said the inherent differences in the two economic forecasts are “uncomfortable.”

In the Finance Ministry’s forecast, further large-scale industrial projects are not taken into account, which would have great impact on the economy, as Markadurinn reports.

I appreciate that their business is not really our concern but still - it's an interesting illustration. I'd really like to hear from our economist bloggers and others involved in finance as to whose version to believe.

In other words, who are the professionals here?

[my father] the earthly variety, that is

I find my father difficult to write about and yet that time is about now when … well, you know.

Not a tall man but with wiry strength from hard work, his hands were strong and his hair receded somewhat later but he was never bald. He wasn't a bad looking chap.

It was a question of which got him first, in the end - the emphysema, the hepatitis or the leukemia. From the war years, it was. I didn't understand what was going on because:

a] I was still too young;

b] I'm not always au fait with this sort of thing;

c] He was a bit remote.

I didn't understand why this was but he was always a distant person and even when we did things together, like paint the walls - he was an expert - I'd always feel he was critically judging me, even though he usually praised the job, except for this little qualification or that.

He was a perfectionist.

Anything he touched he did well, until his later years. I wanted a sailboard and he built it, complete with rudder. I wanted a treehut and he built it. Some of it rubbed off and I've since built sheds and fences of reasonable, unwobbly quality.

I once built a small pyramid. He built a complete house.

He wasn't really stern but just seemed that way - one of the old school who neither suffered fools nor bad manners. Especially the latter. I never heard him use bad language. Actually, now I come to think of it, I really can't recall a swearword ever passing his lips.

He'd get angry though and very quickly. My mother, bless her heart, was … well … well … she had the capacity to provoke with a misplaced word or would do something silly, like not understand how to put up the tent on our annual seaside holiday.

I was with my father on this - how could she not understand the instruction when we'd done this thing every year since I could remember, in exactly the same way? I didn't like how he verbally mauled my mother at these times and in these situations, one stayed mauled.

On the other hand, my mother was as tough as nails and never blanched or even flinched. You have to understand we're talking only words here - fluff and foam - nothing of any lasting substance.

They always presented a united front to me so it was only years later I ever found out he never touched anyone in anger, even under severe provocation - he'd say some pretty choice things, straight to the heart of the issue and then he'd withdraw and go to the workshop.

I never knew how sick he really was. When he'd sit in that huge brown armchair, doing nothing but tap with the fingers of his right hand on the armrest, I thought he might be getting a bit lazy.

Fool - me.

He was never lazy and when I went to his workplace for the first time ever, on gold watch day, it wasn't a gold watch but a very nice brown suitcase for his upcoming first trip out of the country since the war. My mother made them go.

One or two of his underlings spoke to me of him and it seems he was as hard a taskmaster at his workplace as he was at home. This was at a time when these values were beginning to go out of fashion, especially with the young. They didn't actually say anything, of course - I just read that in their manner.

Truth was that they respected him but didn't quite know how to handle him, like us, I suppose.

He was a mason for some time and knew the local masonic community and no - he never showed me the handshake but I did see his paraphernalia once. Interesting stuff. Looked Jewish to me. He didn't remain.

Love?

Aye, there's a word, isn't it? I think of D.H. Lawrence and his father sometimes, of sons of that era and their fathers.

Love?

Probably, in that highly respected way and certainly he commanded loyalty. But he kept his own counsel so much and I'd have liked to have been closer but that was not to be.

Love?

Compassion, certainly, especially when I saw his later suffering. I really can't say "love" to a man.

I know I've never ever felt the need for a father figure nor a mother figure and perhaps that came from them. I naturally feel the need to protect, a bit like a mother hen and the need to defend - those instincts course through the veins.

Love?

Well ... yes. All right. Yes.

So now he's departed and she's departed and all of them have departed and wives have departed and girlfriends have departed and friends are in other parts of the world and still I go on.

Ellee Seymour wrote earlier, in a comment, that:

I always light a candle and place it in front of my father's photo and some flowers when it is his anniversary.

That's what I'm going to do now and then say: "Forgive me, father if I haven't represented you as I should. You know I did my best."

I think he's more kindly than I give him credit for. I believe he's possibly looking in on me right now. I think he'll not see the necessity for this post and will think the "forgive me, father" is gratuitously overdramatic but maybe he won't be too annoyed overall.

He'll like the shot of the Five Rise Locks. Pity I don't have a good one of Beckfoot Bridge.

April 26th, 04:00.

[april 25th] anzac day - gallipoli

On 4th August, 1914, England declared war on Germany and Winston Churchill wanted a strong demonstration of the Navy in the Dardanelles, with Constantinople as a final objective.

About 2 in the morning of 25th April, British Admiral Hamilton ordered the 1500 Australians of the covering force to the shore.

What was strange was that the maps issued to the officers bore no resemblance at all to the surroundings. Instead of a flat beach and gently undulating terrain beyond, they were facing shrub-covered rocky formations and cliffs that nearly ran into the sea.

Before long, it became clear what had happened : the force had not been put ashore as intended, but in a small bay 2 km further north. No matter where they had exactly landed, the Australian troops of the covering force did not hesitate to carry out their orders.

They immediately threw off their packs and stormed the heights closest to the beach. Because the boats had landed in complete disorder, the beach itself was soon congested with new troops being landed without knowing in which direction to advance. After a couple of hours, chaos was complete.

They sent a message to Hamilton, who only said, “You have got through the difficult business, now you have only to dig, dig, dig, until you are safe."

According to some sources, this text gave the nickname "diggers", which the Australians would keep for the rest of their history.

Turkish sniping and bombs kept raining down on the Anzacs, who could only hope to throw the bombs back before they exploded. The sea was literally red with blood. For days after the landing, dead bodies would be washed ashore. One third of the troops died for 500 metres result.

As spring came to an end, a plague of flies fed on the unburied corpses, then dysentery and the water supply became a major problem.

The hostility towards their enemies gradually dropped and the Turks were considered as victims of the same deplorable situation. More than once 'presents' were thrown across no-man's land or messages exchanged.

Then the wind started blowing from the north, which led to sleet and snow. The temperature dropped far below zero and the troops had no winter equipment, which had arrived on the peninsula but had then been shipped back for some reason.

Soldiers froze to death while on guard duty, and the transport of supplies broke up completely. Fighting had become completely impossible. Turkish soldiers refused to advance against the enemy.

During the second week of December, the first phase of the evacuation was started.

Every night, numbers of small vessels came to Anzac Cove to pick up the sick and wounded first, then the prisoners of war and finally the soldiers.

The Gallipoli campaign had been a fiasco and it was one of many reasons the army became known as "lions led by donkeys".

[four interesting hours] little bit of shop

Generally we don't blog about our work because it's not … well … interesting to others. This time though I'm going to report on the past few hours.

I saw a formal debate earlier between two teams of girls. What was unusual about this is that even though girls can generally talk the paint off a wall, they don't often, in my experience, like formal debating.

It's a bit like geography. For some reason, it doesn't often gel with girls. This one today, on the topic: "It's all right to lie if the truth would hurt" was fabulous.

The protocol was observed to the letter, they were erudite and it was in English. Points of order and information were used well and they understood the three speaker system.

In point of fact, I had to keep them from each others' throats and some of the comments were as scathing as anything I've posted here. But best of all was that they asked if they could do it again.

In a good mood, I wandered back to the ministry and the Min told me something very interesting. You'd possibly know they were in London two days ago for the economic forum and the PM and my Min were actually allowed onto the floor of the Lords in session, where they observed the debate.

I had no idea this was possible for foreigners but the description of events was pretty exact and I'm sure he wouldn't be telling porkies. He also told me you people had sunshine and about 20 degrees over there.

We, on the other hand, are about to have a gi-normous thunder storm. The sky's almost black by now.

So, an interesting few hours.

[anzac day] gallipoli, 1915

Today is ANZAC Day and a post will appear this evening.

To the Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians meanwhile, our thoughts are with you today on this most special of days.

Also, in the early hours of the 26th, some years ago, my father died. That's tomorrow morning.

[old poll down] new one up

Old poll

Did Atlantis, as a civilization:

# exist 85%

# not exist 12%

# comprise something else 3%

34 votes total

Well, that seems pretty clear, Tiberius. Still, the minority has been right before.

Comments

Posted by Lord Nazh on April 22, 2007

The Micean culture will probably (one day) end up being what we think of as Atlantean.

---

Posted by Dave Petterson on April 21, 2007

I think that there was a group of people at one point that called themselves Atlanean. I don't think they had special powers or advanced technology. The simplist things can be blown out of all proportion and that kept their names in history.

New poll

Politics and religion should be kept separate

# fully agree

# one can try to separate

# they're interwoven

Poll is in the right sidebar.

[political cynicism] religion's worth a few votes

Liam Murray has a nice piece on the Democrats' attempts to wrest the "Christian" vote from the Republicans. Liam's no religious nutter so his views bear weight:

When UK commentators (usually from the secular left) criticise the influence of religion in American politics the normal target is the Republican party - an understandable position given the last 6 years and Bush's alarmingly regular invocation of 'God'. However, any hopes that the Democratic revival (either in Congress or probably the Whitehouse come '09) would see faith relegated again may be dashed by this story.

Fed up with Republican's claims of a monopoly on Christian values Linda Seger has written a book called "Jesus Rode a Donkey: Why Republicans Don't Have a Corner on Christ". I haven't read the book but there's an excellent podcast discussing many of the key issues over on Truthdig.com.

I don't subscribe to the militant atheist nonsense about banishing religion from politics altogether - too many good people have been inspired or sustained by a private faith. I still however think it should remain a largely private matter so I can't say the notion of Clinton / Obama or Edwards trying to wrestle a set of supposedly Christian values from McCain / Guilliani or Romney is a particularly appealing sight!

This was answered by someone named Paul [is there something in that name perchance?]:

All religion is primitive. It is a throwback to a mystical wish to explain without understanding. The "modern" religions are no more sophisticated than such things as tree worship. As an atheist I have no problem with people having "a faith" and will continue to support their right to celebrate their primitive comforts.

I replied:

Remarkably primitive, ignorant, ungracious and illogical comment from Paul Macmanomy. Typical atheist [and they like to think of themselves as positive].

He ignores the sustenance that not just faith but organizations like the Salvation Army and others afforded people during times of crisis such as the two wars. Though they preached, it was the example they set which scored better with the average person who went through those crises.

I may be wrong and correct me please but I never heard of atheist soup kitchens or shelters during those periods of crisis. Where were the socialists on the street giving sustenance at that time? To what did their rhetoric inevitably amount?

I haven't yet seen evidence to contradict the conclusion that atheists are truly ignorant people, with an immense sense of self-delusion and an even greater sense of denial, masquerading as intellectualism and enlightenment.

Of course, they would accuse me of the same self-delusion and sense of self-righteousness, of seeing my opinion as the only valid one. Of being insufferably smug and deserving of a pointed stick in an unpleasant Edward II type way. Perhaps they're right.

[britishness] does it mean anything to you

Martin Kelly wrote an article called What Being British Means To Me (If Anyone's Interested) and I'm going to quote it in full here:

In an editorial for 'Comment is Free' entitled 'What young British Muslims say can be shocking - some of it is also true', the professional Europhile Timothy Garton Ash writes that:

"I have always thought that the very undemanding vagueness, the duffle-coat bagginess of Britishness was an advantage when it comes to making immigrants and their descendants feel at home here. After all, what have you traditionally required in order to be British? An ability to talk about the weather at inordinate length. Being willing to mind your own business, to live and let live. A general inclination to obey the law of the land, more or less. Perhaps a mild interest in the royal family, football or cricket. That's about it.

The very idea of talking about ourselves as "citizens" has seemed to the British vaguely pretentious and foreign, more specifically French - and therefore bad. But perhaps a more demanding civic-national identity, like that of the French Republic, has its advantages after all, giving a stronger sense of identity and belonging."

The concept of Britishness to which he refers is not universal. The United Kingdom is comprised of three nations, a malfunctioning statelet and a couple of semi-autonomous island territories in the near offshore. His concept is one which is specifically English, and upper middle class, in origin.

Speaking for myself, my concept of Britishness is informed by a conscious rejection of the West of Scotland's sectarian tribal loyalties (sometimes quite difficult when others are parading them in your face) which motivates the abominable waving of Irish flags at Celtic Park by those happy to claim Her Majesty's Dole, and also of the petty but powerful allure of Scottish nationalism, in favour of the recognition that one is a citizen of a greater entity, with rights and duties to the greater whole.

In other words, Britishness is something which, even after nearly 150 years of my family's residence on the mainland, has had to be worked at. Thus I'm not really interested in the carping of those for whom special interest pleading is quite literally an article of faith.

And although Garton Ash might now see the importance of civic education, it's been attitudes like his that have helped to get us into the mess we're in today. An uncharitable suggestion concerning where he should store his duffle coat springs to mind.

I confess my attitude to Britishness is romanticized [possibly the effect of yearning from afar] but it was always the railway children, Falling Foss, Beckfoot Bridge, the canals, the Norfolk broads, Arthur Ransome, Carnaby Street, Twiggy, ska, Madness, two pints of lager and a packet of crisps please, real ale, Stamford Bridge, North Yorkshire moors, Betty's tearooms, Maggie's too, Hendon Aircraft Museum, the Spitfire, Python, the Young Ones, Pink Floyd, the A68 to Edinburgh and so on.

I suppose that explains some of the reactions to the concept of Britishness I introduced in the immigration post. What's your concept? ASBOs, education destroyed, NHS destroyed, post-modernist? I don't know.