[caption competition] the photo demanded it

[ambition] macchiavelli eat your heart out

Talent spotted early

Tiberius wrote, concerning clubs:

Have you ever read C.S. Lewis's science fiction? If not you should - he has some really interesting things to say about the human desire to be part of an inner ring and how it can never be satisfied - the truth is that these things always disappoint.

As the following post is a bit "preachy" let's imagine it's directed to a promising young man on the way up.

The higher you rise, the more you're going to run into ambition and to those who know how to turn a young man's ambition to advantage. I'm thinking of Ed Balls here though the post is not about him.

It is about ambition and it's limitations and one of the first principles to recognize is that if your talent exceeds your ambition, they'll come to you. If the other way round, you'll always be seen as a soft touch but soft touches have gone on right to the top before, e.g. Warren Harding.

Clubs are where likeminded people gather [except for Blogpower] but they're more like terraces on different levels and so when you're invited for cocktails and are honoured by the step-up in company, it's quite important whether you were invited on your achievements to date, your position or your potential, rather than on your ability to wangle an invite.

In other words, when you make small talk with a Mover and Shaker, what are you hoping for? To be seen as a rising star to be kept an eye on? To score a second invite? Look at it through his eyes - his only interest in you is in how you can either help him or his cause. It's possible you're there because word has got around that you'll do much to "move up" and that immediately puts you on a string.

[No words]

If you're one of those and you can align yourself with the important people's common purpose, [for example, in my early teaching interviews, it was the done thing to be pro open-plan classrooms and to throw grammar out the window], what do you then do when the weather changes and it's now the done thing to be reactionary?

The word "hack" hovers round the keyboard, wanting to be typed in, to describe such as these. Leo Amery's example was apt:

For twenty years, he [H.H.Asquith] has held a season ticket on the line of least resistance and has gone wherever the train of events has carried him, lucidly justifying his position at whatever point he has happened to find himself. [July 1914]

Coming back to the terraces at different levels, it becomes obvious, early, to the ambitious young man, that certain members are of more importance than others but a major mistake is to think of them as stepping stones.

For a start, they themselves are trying to score invites to cocktails according to their own vantage point from the terrace they happen to be on and you are not exactly a major priority at this stage in their game plan. This is what gatherings are all about - people will always subdivide for more meaningful repartee with those they value as contacts.

The only hope is that you were there for your talent in the first place but that means you possibly have your own mind and opinions. What will you do - compromise these in order to move up? Or stick to your guns and force them to either adjust to your current project or else marginalize you and move on to a more malleable rising star?

Young man with eyes on the stars

The only way to overcome the social disadvantages of having a brain, [or even of not having one, for that matter], is to have something people want and that's every businessman's quandary. Once you have that though and are sociable enough anyway, the rest should follow up to a point.

But you must accept that you might have reached your highest point early and do you really want Disraeli's slippery pole as a way of life? Wouldn't it be better to strike out laterally into virgin territory and to blaze a new trail? Looks better on your CV resume as well.

The other advantage to this is that when you're nakedly ambitious, there is a tendency for the people below or "moved on from" to mutter to one another and quietly slip a spanner in the works when the opportunity arises. "Uppity", "Johnny-come-Lately" are the epithets which could stymie you in the most puzzling ways.

I really like the adage about "treating people well on the way up because you'll meet them again on the way down".

Forgetting the little people is a major mistake - remembering them might not materially assist you but it doesn't hurt to create a friendly field to operate in. Jeffrey Archer's "Colonel Bullfrog" deals with just this.

A chap just now referred to this by saying that humility and honesty are not necessary innocent qualities - they can be effective weapons and that was interesting because another chap here earlier in the day received a call from an irate client and I watched with interest as he was caught out.

With an apologetic sigh, he told the woman: "I forgot. Sorry." Then he dealt with the matter and I could hear the tone of voice change at the other end. He does a lot of this straight down the line honesty business. His company profits have gone up 17% in the last year.

When's this post going to end? Soon. S'pose the moral is that it's better to carve your own course [and you'll find yourself rising anyway] than to tailor yourself to someone else's needs, in a vague hope of admission to High Society.

I'll watch the path of Ed Ball's further career with considerable interest.

Pssst - wanna be a cardinal?

[sitemeter] were you attacked last night?

Update on the update: On the same day I reported the problem, a real human being at Sitemeter replied and gave a full explanation for what had happened and their intention to remedy the hit on my stats from somewhere. They then promptly did that. Would that every large organization could act like this. Most impressive.

Update: E-mail seems to be down too. Notifications from blogs are arriving but not direct mail. Maybe you could test mail me to see.

If you're getting "permanent failure" messages, use:

nourishingobscurityatgmaildotcom .

Readers - great dislocation today.

Firstly, they're putting in cable and due to arrive any minute. Then there were last night's problems. Went to bed early [heavy day today] and have just seen an e-mail now saying the person tried to contact me many times.

Went to Sitemeter and my stats were not completely removed but from Saturday to Monday, reduced to zero, zero and twenty a day uniques respectively. Now I know they were bumper on Saturday and Sunday because I saw them, didn't see Monday's final total but knew it was not bad at 21:00, London time.

Between then and now, something happened. Either everyone's stats were attacked or just mine. I'd assume everyone's but if they were just mine, well, it might be related to the Mac changeover but I can't see it - Sitemeter is not dependent on that.

There is another expanation and it's understandable, given the things which have appeared on my site lately. Wonder they didn't stymie me completely, really.

Unfortunately, RL calls now so will sort all this out later.

[mary celeste] modern version with a twist

Unfortunately, the link for this story came from my e-mail provider and was lost in a power shutdown today. Still, it bears a resemblance to the Mary Celeste tale in some aspects and is of some interest.

October 14, 2007 [by Todd Lewin, maildotcom]:

Kirby Logan Archer, by the age of 35, had been described as a loner, a romantic, a sensitive son, a vindictive husband, a loving father, a gay man. He went AWOL four years ago from the military police, receiving an "other-than-honorable" discharge.

By the time a court had issued a warrant for his arrest for theft from his work, Archer had fled the state. His current wife described him in glowing terms, his former wife the opposite. He was at this time also the subject of a child molestation investigation and still is.

For nearly eight months, Archer lay low then surfaced in the Miami area, spending time with a 19-year-old Cuban immigrant with a weight lifter's torso and a close-cropped, dark beard: Guillermo Zarabozo, sociable, respectful, well-behaved, living with his mother, sister, stepfather and pet dog in a second-floor walkup.

But if Zarabozo got along so well with his neighbors, why did he install a video surveillance camera in the hall outside of his family's apartment? Archer and Zarabozo both spoke fluent Spanish and had lived in Cuba; both were fastidious, very attentive to their physiques, and well-trained in the use of handguns.

On a breezy Saturday, the last day of summer, both boarded the Joe Cool, a 47' sports cruiser, telling the first mate, Sammy Kairy,they wanted a ride to Bimini to meet up with a couple of lovely young ladies. It would be a one-way trip.

It was still the slow season for chartering. The vessel's owner, Jeff Branam, helped carry their luggage aboard next day for the trip, telling them the trip would set them back $4,000.

With little more than a nod, Archer pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, peeled off 40 $100 notes, and held them out. Why didn't they just take a plane? Branam asked. A one-way ticket would cost $150, tops.

Haven't got my passport, Archer told him. Girlfriend packed it in her luggage and went on ahead. She's going to meet us at the dock. Branam took the money.

About 4:30 p.m. Saturday, under sunny skies, the Joe Cool sailed into the light chop of Biscayne Bay, on its first-ever charter to the Bahamas with the two passengers, the captain and his wife and the crew.

The Joe Cool was expected to return the following noon to prepare for a Monday charter. By 4 p.m. that Sunday, with no word from his nephew, Jeff Branam contacted the Coast Guard. Within two hours, the sport fisher was spotted, drifting 160 miles south of Bimini, on the Cay Sal Banks -- just a short sail from Cuba.

Coast Guard officers boarded the vessel, finding it "in disarray." Investigators discovered six marijuana cigarettes, a cellular telephone, luggage, cameras, a laptop computer, Zarabozo's Florida ID card, a small key, four spent shell casings -- and blood in the stern and cabin. The boat's navigational equipment and electronics had been left untouched, along with some expensive fishing gear. But they found no life raft, no guns, no bullets or slugs.

And no bodies.

The boat's Global Positioning System indicated the Joe Cool had started off heading due east toward Bimini. Then, halfway to its destination, it had veered 190 degrees south. Why the drastic change in course, which pointed straight toward Cuba?

Two cutters, a C-130 plane, a P-3 Orion patrol plane and helicopters swept the Gulf Stream, searching more than 10,000 square miles. On foot, searchers checked out dozens of small, uninhabited cays.

Still they found no crew.

They did, however, spot a life raft, drifting northward with the Gulf Stream current. In it were Archer and Zarabozo, with a supply of water, their luggage, a blow gun, darts, several knives, and 22 $100 bills.

During the trip back, Zarabozo told investigators that pirates had hijacked the Joe Cool. They shot the captain dead and then killed his wife the same way "because she was hysterical." The hijackers then ordered the remaining crew to throw the bodies overboard, shooting them, too, when they refused, he said.

When the pirates told him to dump the bodies, Zarabozo said he complied and, at gunpoint, cleaned the boat. Then, he claimed, the invaders commandeered the vessel and sailed it south until it ran out of fuel. Ultimately, a third boat picked up the hijackers, who spared the two of them.

Except:

--No radio transmissions or maydays had come from the boat. There was a "distress" button on the VHF radio, which, when pressed, would send the Coast Guard the sport fisher's position.

--Four spent shell casings had stamps matching ammunition purchased by Zarabozo in February.

--There were no scratches or marks on the Joe Cool's hull, typically left by a boarding vessel.

--Though Archer and Zarabozo say they were going to rendezvous with girlfriends on Bimini, no women have come forward.

--Although the survivors told investigators the killings occurred on the boat's exterior deck, human blood and three of the four shell casings were found inside, in the main cabin.

--Cuba, just beyond where the men were picked up, has no extradition treaty with the U.S.; that fact led Assistant U.S. Attorney Jeffrey Tsai to say in court that Archer and Zarabozo were attempting "a one-way trip out of the country."

Still, without a murder weapon, a confession, bodies, bullets -- or any witnesses beyond the accused -- proving that Archer and Zarabozo plotted and committed first-degree murder won't be easy, veteran defense lawyers say.

This is not the Joe Cool but I imagine the fishing boat, at those prices and with those passengers, would have looked much different to the one below.

[exclusivity] pride, ambition and humility

Pride is a fascinating word - it encompasses the mother who sees her child walk for the first time and at the other end of the spectrum, Hitler, as he did a jig when learning of the latest allied casualties and the annexing of a new outpost of the Reich.

We're proud of Blogpower, the way it's grown and of being mentioned in the Iain Dale Blogging Guide. Pride prevents a couple reconciling [don't sleep in the subway, darling] and keeps Montague and Capulet in an endless loop of wastage, of energy, humanity and lives.

Pride has crossed the line, IMHO, when it tends to exclusivity. I was public school educated [meaning private, to the non-Brits] and that's a training ground for unstated but assumed place in society; there've been other landmarks along the way as well.

I seem to get on best with both clubbable people and with tradesmen. I do worst with ambitious middle management, people clawing their way to the top, something which never interests me until the opportunity goes begging and then I shift up a gear.

The biggest problems with exclusivity are that it gives people airs and the chance to look down their noses at others whilst assuring inverse snobs that all well-educated people are guillotinable; it enslaves the exclusivity lovers to patronage and fitting in with the plans of those who bestow the largesse and it also slowly inures the hopeful to the sufferings of others, as they themselves start apportioning the largesse [give them cake to eat].

Exclusivity taps into a deep-seated need to be recognized - hence web awards and stats checking. Have to smile when some of those who tell us not to worry about stats have the whole game scientifically down pat and anxiously concern themselves with multiple statistical measurement of their own blogs whilst assuming an air of: "Stats? I can take them or leave them".

Exclusivity taps into the need to look down one's nose a little or a lot. Bill Bryson wrote of some stupid people he met who's delight was to be able to look down their noses at others they themselves discovered who were "even more stupid than they were".

My friend and I over here enjoy a niche market but the tendency to be overly proud of our position is the final step before the fall, IMHO. Once the nose goes into the air, the clients melt away and patrons think: "Ah ha, a bit above himself now, isn't he?"

It's hard to keep focussed, to accept one's no better or worse but has had some things fall into place at the right time and it is good when things fall into place.

Yet another problem with exclusivity is that it marginalizes others - Guido is an example of someone who was marginalized by certain elements in the parliamentary establishment way back when and then hit back so that he had to be taken into account as one of the top bloggers in the country. His readership is no accident.

I defend to the death the right of clubs to exist, to make their own rules and not to be forced by government to admit certain sections of society who are in fashion at the time.

But there are clubs and clubs. I once had to evict a couple from a house I'd rented out to them - it was messy and the two of them were not far from animals in their behaviour.

They'd trashed the house, warped the main shelving unit [with inch thick shelves] and left uncollected rubbish from weeks before plus empty bottles. I noticed two letters addressed to them along with the inevitable bills - both letters were from "The Young Sophisticates Club" - I tell you no lie here and am not bending it in the slightest.

I wrote back to the club about these two members.

At the other end of the spectrum is the allure of the Club of Movers and Shakers, on whose stroke of the pen the misery of many hundreds of thousands depends.

The majority I knew were not of this ilk but there was a sizeable section who were, who'd cut their eye-teeth on exclusivity and the boat club had to finally crack down on their behaviour, which lacked of any respect whatever - was there ever a stink over that and the secretary had to resign.

I don't know - there has to be some middle ground somewhere and I can't seem to find it.

[venezia] the romance or the pong

Reuters reports:

In Piazza San Marco, seven women have been deployed by the lagoon city to improve decorum and cleanliness in the square Napoleon called "the drawing room of Europe".

Since June, tourists cannot eat their own food or walk around bare-chested. Signs warning of fines have been plastered on bins as well as canal water bus stops, and the stewards - dressed in special T-shirts - give out leaflets telling tourists where they can have their picnics.

In early August, more than 100 tourists were given 25 euro fines, according to news agency ANSA. One of the stewards, Giovanna, said:

"People usually say they didn't know. We advise them that there is a picnic area where they can go, we do not want them to get angry - usually the reaction is positive but there are times when we've had to make calls [for back-up]."

But in a city where a simple breakfast of coffee and a croissant can cost over 5 euros - more than double the rate in Milan - many day-trippers bring their own food or opt for take-away refreshments.

"There were people … who mistook the Grand Canal for a beach," the council's Augusto Salvadori, in charge of tourism and the city's image, said."Venice is a city of art and a city that belongs to the world, guests are welcome - but Venice has to be respected."

Mario Martini, who sells grain to feed pigeons, which pose their own problem in Saint Mark's Square, thinks the stewards are good for the city's image but one tourist grumbled: "They don't want it to be scruffy but maybe they could just provide more bins."

Let me see - 20 million tourists, at 5 euros a snack, not counting the fines - hmmm, yes, I'd want to "clean up the city's image" too.

And it's not as if Venezia has a history of freedom la dolce vita either - the Ponte dei Sospiri is testimony to a tradition of prisonhood and torture, if not the actuality.

Actually, I believe all these legends about kissing under bridges, kissing the Blarney Stone and so on. I've done the latter but only visited the former - so clearly time for a poem:

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand: I sniffed from out the wave her smells rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their pungent wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice held her nose in state Thron'd on her hundred isles!II

Remember, it's not the smell you go for - it's the romance ...