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02 Dec 12:55

Dave could be facing a big challenge winning support for press control without legislation

by Mike Smithson

The first post Leveson report poll suggests that Cameron might be on the wrong side of public opinion. twitter.com/MSmithsonPB/st…

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 2, 2012

First Leveson polling reaction: By 50-29%, people tell YouGov that Cameron was wrong to oppose Leveson’s proposals for new legislation

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 1, 2012

By 50-26%, those sampled by YouGov think Clegg was right to back Leveson’s proposal.

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 1, 2012

By 46-32%, people tell YouGov that EdM’s motive is to “undermine coalition” rather than protecting the victims of press behaviour

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 1, 2012

66% tell YouGov that Clegg was “right; to make separate statement rather than present a united front”.Just 22% say he was “wrong

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 1, 2012

And UKIP achieve their highest polling level yet

twitter.com/MSmithsonPB/st…

— Mike Smithson (@MSmithsonPB) December 2, 2012

We should be getting the voting and leader approval numbers from YouGov in the morning.

Mike Smithson

For the latest polling and political betting news

Follow @MSmithsonPB

02 Dec 01:25

Saturday Afternoon

by evanier

A "friend" has been inundating me with links to sites that reveal how Barack Obama, crazed for power as he is, has all these plans to stay in office for a third term, if not forever. Seems to me that each of our last few White House residents has been the subject of this rumor. Didn't Bill Clinton have this top secret scheme to create a phony Civil War in the U.S., then use that as an excuse to declare Martial Law and suspend elections indefinitely? George W. Bush I think had one, too.

In an odd way, I kinda like the Obama Conspiracy Theories that come out of Absolute Nowhere. There are plenty that at least start in reality...like someone finding something in the Affordable Care Act and going, "Oh...we'll claim this part sets up Death Panels!" You almost have to deal with those claims like they have some basis. But the ones that don't even pretend to touch reality are fun on some level, plus they do a lot to distract from possibly legitimate criticisms. Insane concepts are not always without value...to someone.

Back in the seventies, I worked briefly for a rather dishonest man who was forever starting new, unsuccessful business ventures. Each time one tanked, as they all did, he'd sneak away from it leaving a phalanx of angry creditors, and start two more. Each was based on a premise not unlike this...

He'd read a statistic somewhere like, "Twelve million people a week eat Butterscotch Pudding." Instantly, his mind would do the math: "Why, if I could get two dollars from everyone who eats Butterscotch Pudding, I'd make $24,000,000 a week!" And that would be his new business. He'd invent something like the Send-Me-Two-Dollars-Every-Time-You-Eat-Butterscotch-Pudding Club...and by the time it became obvious that enough people weren't going to do that, no matter. He'd have heard somewhere that six million people each week do a bad impression of Jimmy Stewart and, why, if you could get three dollars from every bad Jimmy Stewart impressionist...

During the brief time I knew him, not one of his plans succeeded the way he wanted them to but a few yielded enough money that he could pay rent for a while off them. They'd all collapse and he'd disappear into the night leaving stacks of unpaid bills. But some were financially worth doing in a small way. There actually were a few people out there stupid enough to send him money every time they ate Butterscotch Pudding or did an impression of Jimmy Stewart. I hate to think what he'd have made off someone who did an impersonation of Jimmy Stewart eating Butterscotch Pudding.

Stupid people often have money and the great thing about them is that when they do, they spend it like stupid people. You know those e-mail scams we all get from a stranger someplace who has $32,000,000 US due them and so badly needs our help to claim the loot that they're willing to share it with us? I used to wonder why those messages were so lame and obviously bogus...until not long ago, I discussed it with someone I knew who was wiser than I in the ways of the Internet. I said, "Those things are so badly written, they wouldn't fool anyone with an I.Q. over 30."

"That's the point," he replied. "The idea is to get you to give them access to your credit card and bank account. Someone with an I.Q. over 30 is not going to give them that. It's a waste of time to start a correspondence with someone who isn't really, really stupid. A guy sends out a million — literally — of those messages. 999,970 of them will get instantly deleted by spam filters if not by the addressees. The guy who sent them will get thirty responses and he'll write back and forth to those thirty...and maybe two or three will be dumb enough to fall for the whole routine and send their banking info.

"If the initial come-on message was more credible, he might get 200 responses and they'd write back and forth to them...but there'd still be only two or three who would be stupid enough to send the banking info. It saves time to make the initial pitch so incredible. It filters out the ones who are just plain not stupid enough."

I think there's something to that. I also think I see a lot of it in similar scams disguised as political action come-ons. I have a couple of special "junk mail" e-mail addresses and years ago, one got signed up for all sorts of ultra-conservative mailings. They never cease and most do not seem to offer unsubscription. Among the debris that address receives two or three times a month is an Urgent Call To Action from some fellow who claims to have hard, undeniable evidence that will put Hillary Clinton (and Bill, while they're at it) in prison for the rest of their lives. Each message describes how one or both of them is planning to destroy the U.S., abolish all religion and make it mandatory that we all star in gay porn videos...or something like that. Pretty much, the sales pitch comes down to, "You hate Hillary Clinton, right? Send me money and I'll destroy her for you!"

I've been getting these for fifteen years now, during which he somehow did not use his undeniable evidence to stop her from becoming a U.S. Senator and then our Secretary of State, let alone continue walking the planet as a free woman. If you did think it was worth your money to try and stop Hillary, there are better places you could spend it. But I guess it's worth his while to compose a new, hysterical e-mail every ten days or so. He probably always reaches someone stupid enough to PayPal him some bucks.

I think an awful lot of what passes for political discourse in this country these days works off that principle: There's money in making stupid people mad.

02 Dec 01:22

Doctor Who 50 – Eleven Great Cliffhangers

by Alex Wilcock
It’s Saturday the First of December, so what does that mean? That all of us faithful followers are looking forward to the very special day when he first came to save us – he looks like a man, but he’s a legend, and… And is that enough Advent blasphemy to make up for this morning? I’m counting down weekly to Doctor Who’s fiftieth anniversary, today with the definition of what gets you coming back next week: the cliffhanger. Before more of them enter my fifty great scenes across the year, here are eleven terrific scary moments to whet your appetite… Watch out for spoilers – often quite big ones!




The Dead Planet – the cliffhanger is a bargain between the image on screen and…



Vengeance On Varos – the viewers at home (who have the image left in their minds for a whole week)

The Daleks Episode 1 – The Dead Planet
“Aaaaaaaahhhh!”
The Doctor (William Hartnell)’s first adventure had fine cliffhangers to close each of its four episodes, not least the creeping threat at the very end of the story – but it was his second story that introduced not just the iconic monster but the iconic cliffhanger: a mystery; a monster; and a scream. The first episode of The Daleks is an early design triumph, as the TARDIS lands in the midst of a petrified jungle on an apparently dead planet. Exploring a strange metal city, full of sinister shining corridors with low arched doorways and with an eerie soundscape of hums and whirrs, the crew split up to explore… But when it comes time for them to meet up again, not only are they all feeling suddenly, strangely exhausted, but Barbara isn’t with them. She’s lost in the gleaming city, clutching the walls for support as she weakens, made all the more claustrophobic as doors close by themselves around her as if to herd her into place, hemmed in by a city coming alive and her own distorted reflections – then, as she’s reaching the end of her tether, to a piercing whine of musique concrète something extends a probe towards her as it closes in, and she screams…

It’s in the Daleks’ second story that they make perhaps their most iconic cliffhanger entrance (at least until 2006), shockingly rising from the Thames as masters of Earth in World’s End, but it was this cliffhanger that made Doctor Who an overnight success: bringing Barbara and the viewer to a pitch of tension, what could it be? Tune in next week! And the brilliance of it lies in part that it is not a monster reveal, but – after an episode of no-one else but our heroes exploring a strange world – the first intrusion of something else, a something or someone that we won’t see for another week. But Barbara’s seen it, and she’s terrified, and that reaction makes us desperate to know. It also establishes the iconic cliffhanger as something voyeuristic from the start – and rarely more so than in showing the climax not with the ‘viewers’ viewpoint character’ Barbara, but making us the very camera that threatens her.


Remembrance of the Daleks Part One
“The stairs!”
Another iconic Dalek cliffhanger, this time from twenty-five years later, now the mid-point of Doctor Who; exploring a school basement full of Dalek technology, the Doctor (Sylvester McCoy) and Ace manage to disintegrate a Dalek transmitting in… But the one already there closes in. The Doctor shouts to Ace the same thing everyone at home does, and she bounds up the stairs to escape. But before the Doctor can do the same, the cellar door’s slammed shut in front of him and, for the first time, we see a Dalek shockingly glide up the stairs behind him, his face captured in its computer display as it identifies the enemy of the Daleks and shrieks that he will be exterminated…

You can see some of that cliffhanger in this excitingly spoilery fan-made Remembrance of the Daleks trailer – and it may be coming soon…


Army of Ghosts
“That’s not Cybermen…”
“Oh my God—!”
The centre-point of Army of Ghosts / Doomsday doesn’t quite manage to spread today’s three Dalek cliffhangers evenly across the whole of Doctor Who’s first fifty years, but it’s close. The Doctor (David Tennant) goes downstairs again to investigate strange goings-on… Why does he keep doing that? It’s a thrillingly long build-up of tension that still manages to have the cliffhanger moment itself the undoubted climax: first, the Doctor is captured by fabulous villain Yvonne Hartman and Torchwood; then the Doctor works out (in an inspired twist on The Tenth Planet, with parallel rather than perambulating worlds colliding) that the Cybermen are behind it all; then the Cybermen effortlessly capture the Doctor and his captors; then the ‘ghosts’ across the world suddenly achieve full corporeality, as the Cybermen take control. The music, the imagery, Graeme Harper’s direction as the camera passes across eerily still Cyber-faces in close-up… It would be a terrific cliffhanger. So, pity the Cybermen, who have had some great cliffhangers of their own (faces in the snow, taking London in front of St Paul’s Cathedral, an army bursting from their containers and marching through a spaceship), yet the most exciting moment in their most victorious cliffhanger isn’t about them at all. I even usually name multi-part Twenty-first Century Who stories to myself after their first episode, yet this story to me is always “Doomsday” – because that’s about the Daleks, while “Army of Ghosts” seems more just the Cybermen.

All the while, an impossible sphere has been hanging in their air, defying all analysis; and just as the Cybermen come through, just as the Doctor thinks it’s all about them, just as the Cyberleader tells him that they merely followed the hole the sphere made between universes… The void-ship starts to open at last. And though Mickey Smith has turned from cowardly Mickey the Idiot to confident Defender of the Earth – that’s the positive power of gay sex – even he’s not ready for what’s coming out. A year after she destroyed every last Dalek in existence, Rose recognises the four Daleks as they float out of their sphere, identifying their location, the life-forms, and their desire, as always: “Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminaaaaaaate!


Planet of Evil Part Three
“You can’t do this! It’s murder!”
“She’s right. You have no evidence. You cannot do it.”
“How much evidence do you want? The whole crew dead? Eject! Eject!”
Many of the cliffhangers I’m fondest of are those that most terrified me as a child. A man taking his wounded hand from his pocket and not recognising the half-Wirrn flesh it’s become; Sarah Jane recognising a Sontaran as it removes its helmet, or falling from a terrifyingly high gantry, or encountering the body, or brain, or body and brain of Morbius, or just not Sarah Jane at all; the Doctor caught in the merciless gaze of a dark god, or next to feel the blazing power of a cowled fanatic consumed by burning energy, or frozen underwater in the cliffhanger that most offended Mary Whitehouse (‘Finished, Doctor! The episode’s finished!’). Many more burned their way into my earliest nightmares – some of them will find their way into my Fifty Scenes across the next year, and it was very tempting just to fill up these eleven with more from the mid-Seventies. Instead, I’m going to write in detail about just one today, chosen – how else? – by virtue of being the one that gave me the most vivid and lasting recurring nightmare.

On a planet on the edge of the Universe, a scientific party has come to grief in the eerie living jungle, and the Doctor (Tom Baker) and Sarah Jane have inevitably taken the blame. There are more horrible deaths on the rescue ship; something is preventing it from leaving orbit; and something is very wrong with the expedition’s sole survivor, in a ghoulish sci-fi twist on the Victorian tale of Jekyll and Hyde. In the wrong place at the wrong time, the Doctor’s really not getting on well with the ship’s ambitious young commander, and things come to a head when, coming round from the Doctor socking him in the jaw, the commander finds him standing over yet another twisted corpse and shoots him down. We’ve already seen the ship’s dead ceremonially ejected into space; now the commander has the unconscious Doctor and the all too awake Sarah Jane strapped onto trays in the mortuary and presses the lever to send them the same way in a ghoulish sci-fi twist on the Victorian fear of burial alive, already out of sight down the tube as the music screams in… Claustrophobia, helplessness, arbitrary power and death all combine to make this the most horrifying cliffhanger of all when I was a little boy. For some reason, corpses and skeletons seemed exciting, but coffins frightening.


Vengeance On Varos Part One
“And cut it – now.”
Colin Baker (the Doctor) is trapped in a voyeuristic world of TV where people delight to see the contestants suffer and everything is ruled by a TV vote. Make your own topical jokes. Here are mine. Tense music swells; the Doctor makes his way through a baking TV landscape, and we see people seeing him seeing Peri (yes, it is a bit meta); even the viewers at home feel thirsty watching; Peri is dragged into the studio and bursts out in horror at what she sees on the screen; the director governor orders a close-up on his death throes; a mini-Jabba gurgles with delight in the most fabulously evil laugh of the ’80s; we zoom in on Colin’s still face on all the screens… They cut. One of Doctor Who’s most postmodern stories, surely its most postmodern cliffhanger as we watch what we’d normally watch on the screen on a series of screens – fittingly for such a superb cliffhanger, it’s the story’s peak, unusually far better around the middle than at the beginning or end.


The Space Museum Episode 1 – The Space Museum
“They’ve gone.”
“Yes, my dear. And we’ve arrived.”
It’s another time where the cliffhanger builds and builds to a crescendo – before finishing in sudden silence and on a moment of quiet, charismatic authority. The TARDIS lands by the space museum to the triumphs of this planet’s conquerors – or does it? The Doctor (William Hartnell) and his friends explore, only to find no-one can see or hear them, to find they can’t touch anything, and ultimately to find… Themselves. Frozen exhibits alongside all the other monuments of conquest. It seems the TARDIS has been doing something very strange, by accident or design, and this eerie, intriguing opening episode closes with time catching up with its passengers: it never fails to send a shiver up my spine when to a sudden eruption of frankly barking, strident strings the TARDIS has another go at it, our heroes’ footprints belatedly appear, the display cases of doom fade away, Steven Moffat materialises and the Doctor ominously observes that they’ve at last arrived.


Carnival of Monsters Episode Two
“What was that?”
“I don’t know – but it didn’t sound very friendly…”
When I think of Carnival of Monsters, I usually think of how funny it is, or how strange. The claim that it’s “Nothing serious, nothing political” even as it sends up xenophobic right-wingers; the high-concept weirdness that should mean the first episode’s cliffhanger is outstanding, though it doesn’t quite work on screen; the combination of the two in that what seems to be a puzzling mixture of times and places is revealed to be a peepshow satirising TV (and one show in particular). And yet the most memorable single moment is the most straightforwardly effective of all cliffhanger ideas: a simply brilliant monster reveal. The Doctor (Jon Pertwee) and Jo find themselves in part of an alien swamp, and as the entertainer and the alien planet’s MPs watch (plotting a good disaster but with no wish to be devoured by such monstrosities, even in the cause of political progress), there’s a terrific scream from a monstrous dragon bursting out of the water to menace our heroes… The Drashig is, in this shot, still one of the best monsters in the series, and completely lives up to its fourth-wall-breaking billing in all the ways we’ve already been told with grisly relish how scary it is.


The Leisure Hive Part Three
“I’ve got a surprise for you all.”
Tom Baker’s final season as the Doctor is one of the series’ creative peaks: visually stylish; thematically brilliant; superb music; striking ideas. One of the elements it doesn’t get enough credit for, though, is its cliffhangers – it’s arguably Doctor Who’s most sustained run of terrific episode endings, whether in an outstanding mixture of villain revealed and turning point in the tale (not this one – a later one), fractured time suddenly crystallising as our hero arrives in danger (though differently to The Space Museum), or a lurch in the stomach of horror and delight at a mixture of fan-pleasing death and Tom solemnity. Two stories in particular stand out in every single cliffhanger. One of them’s made it to my Fifty. For the other, the Doctor’s pulled shockingly apart with a howl down a still shocking set of new titles; then aged to ancienthood; and in this third cliffhanger, the most shocking face-off of the lot…

The Doctor (Tom Baker) has been blamed (as usual) for sabotage and murder on an alien world. This is a holiday world, run by a dying race, and it’s going bankrupt; the sabotage and murder, apparently by green lizardy things lurking in the shadows, doesn’t help. Nor does their wolfish human business partner Brock, who’s making them an offer too good to refuse. Suddenly, though, things turn inside-out: a friendly green lizard helps the Doctor out and he takes it to see the Board, just as the next Chairman is turning into a fascist messiah. But that’s the least of Brock’s worries as the lizardy thing, turning not so friendly after all, makes a grab for him. He screams in xenophobic terror for it not to touch him, which seems for once justifiable – as, in a series of brilliantly horrible fast cuts and close-ups, we see it seize him and tear his head off. To reveal the lizard within.


The Trial of A Time Lord Part Thirteen – The Ultimate Foe
“This is an illusion. I deny it!”
“Not this time.”
“This – isn’t – happening!”
“You are dead, Doctor. Goodbye, Doctor…”
The Doctor (Colin Baker) has entered the Matrix – yes, just like that one. Doctor Who got there first, and this wasn’t even the first time (the first time was followed by a story with a great cliffhanger in which what looks like the Doctor’s evil self attacks him inside a computer. Completely different to this). Anyway, he’s gone inside this computer to track down his evil self, only to be enmeshed in dementedly Victorian bureaucracy. Told to go to a waiting room, he opens the door – and finds himself on a dour, windswept beach, the voice of his evil self (Michael Jayston) echoing down from the sky. He’s rather fabulous at that. Worried about his companion, the Doctor’s defiant – but threats boom like thunder to the Doctor himself, the music spirals, and below his feet the sand starts to heave as grimy hands erupt from it and, grasping at the Doctor’s legs, pull him to the ground. The Doctor tries to deny the reality of all this, but as the disembodied hands drag him deeper into the roiling sands, it seems all he can do is scream… The Doctor turning evil is one of the series’ great nightmares, so it’s appropriate that rarely has the Doctor been plunged into such nightmarish imagery.


The End of Time Part One
“And so it came to pass, on Christmas Day, that the human race did cease to exist. But even then, the Master had no concept of his greater role in events – for this was far more than humanity’s end. This day was the day upon which the whole of Creation would change for ever…”
OK. So not quite done with the Advent blasphemy. This is the longest buildup and cliffhanger in today’s choices (though not the longest scene in the Fifty, which will range from just a few seconds to…), as I will happily watch the last seven minutes or so of The End of Time Part One as one big climax. Russell T Davies has an amazing gift for great penultimate-episode cliffhangers, enthusing me for if usually outclassing the season finale that follows (here, neither the multiple Masters nor the Time Lords really seem to get a lot to do next time. But a great brink to teeter on). The Master (John Simm) is terrific, too, though I do rather prefer him more suave with occasional bursts of madness than the other way round, and so nearly went for the stunning images, music and charisma of his “Here – come – the drums!” …But it’s just possible that I may yet feature something else from that particular three-part story, and perhaps even another Russell pre-finale. What’s especially impressive about this cliffhanger is that, like Army of Ghosts’, it’s a double cliffhanger – setting up one huge menace that we expected, making it utterly victorious, and then topping it…

The Doctor turning evil? How about all of us? Perhaps overcompensating for disintegrating a git of a President last time the Master turned up, here we get some blatant hero-worshipping of Obama, Wilf gets Chekhov’s Button hidden behind the bluff of Chekhov’s Gun, and the man who thinks he’s the main villain gets to activate his big sparkly gate thing. But he’s not the main villain at all. The Master leaps into action and, with a burst of thrilling music, throws his self across the world and into every human. The Doctor (David Tennant) can only look on appalled as the Master’s laugh echoes from the entire formerly-human race, sometimes wearing rather stylish pink frocks, to the strains of the glorious music we always know as ‘Dance of the Macra’. But it’s a double cliffhanger, and even the Master this time isn’t the main villain either. We zoom out from Earth across the Solar System and far beyond as the President of the Time Lords (Timothy Dalton) promises the serried ranks of his people – all in Prydonian, or Dalek, colours, and whose death has been the only certain fact of the past five years – final victory, and the end of time itself.


The Tenth Planet Episode 4
“It’s far from being all over…”
From the other end of time, and from another regeneration story before anyone had the faintest idea there could be any such thing, comes the biggest, most inspired shock cliffhanger in Doctor Who, for all that we’ve had so many years to get used to the idea: the Doctor (Patrick Troughton) is no longer the Doctor (William Hartnell). His old body wearing thin, exhausted by fighting against the Cybermen and their vampire world, the Doctor has won, but is in a state of collapse as he staggers back to the TARDIS. His companions Ben and Polly (good-looking guys) follow, only to find the TARDIS apparently working the Doctor rather than the other way round, and the Doctor himself, in a blaze of light and roar of sound – changing

Though the rest of the story survives, the final episode of The Tenth Planet is one of those the BBC “lost” (though in this case, rumours suggest in a less straightforward way than the usual skip or furnace). Fortunately, not only does the soundtrack exist, as for all “missing” episodes, but so do three clips of the climax – two filmed off-screen of the buildup, and the first regeneration itself in full quality. And in a strange way, the juddery flickering of those clips just adds to the sense of something weird and powerful happening. It’s marvellous that we still have that mesmerising shot of the Doctor near-swooning into camera as he tells Ben he’s wrong about it all being over, then all those overlapping shots of the Doctor and the ‘alive’ console amidst a catastrophe of sound remains spellbinding – even before the end of the story itself in a new Doctor, still such a fantastic idea! As you could describe both as ‘Holy shit! What’s that?’ scenes – with both then having such satisfying answers – this cliffhanger and the first one above are probably the two most crucial moments in explaining why we’re still watching Doctor Who five decades later.


Next week – a last teaser before the Fifty start in earnest…
01 Dec 14:42

What i faxed to House Committee Hearing on Autism

by Neurodivergent K
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Yesterday, I sat in front of my computer for several hours watching you have a discussion about people like me. For hours and hours I watched you talk about people like me as though we cannot hear you calling us an emergency, a crisis, a burden, a tsunami, hopeless, an unfortunate situation, poisoned, damaged. Always the horrific language. Always about children. Always children you claim to love.

All this talk of vaccines, of blame, of hate. I found myself asking again and again, why do you hate us so much? And why are we so invisible, that you can't even get past hating your kids enough to see that they hear you and that they grow up and that their adult counterparts are listening right now?

And then I heard Eleanor Holmes Norton speak up.

She asked about adults. She asked what happens to us if we are not in the system, if we are late diagnosed. She asked about people like me-autistic adults. People who the rest of the hearing seemed content to ignore the existence of.

And no one had an answer for Congresswoman Norton. But I do.

Congresswoman, I was diagnosed as a small child, but since I learned how to talk as a not much larger child your colleague Burton probably thinks I don't count. Since I could make it academically, and the goal of early intervention programs in those days (and many these days) is “mainstream kindergarten”, there are a whole lot of issues that were written off as behavioral, as choice, rather than as neurological.

Things like sensory issues.

Things like sequencing problems.

Things like inconsistent ability to functionally use language.

Things like not having a single friend in my grade.

Things like inability to remember and carry out auditory directions.

Things like an inability to get through a day in regular ed without melting down because I was so overwhelmed. Not when I was 5. Not when I was 8. When I was 15.

I am intelligent, I am academically capable, but there are things that I just. Can. Not. Do. And no telling me to try harder or just act normal or whatever was going to do it.

Congresswoman Norton, someone told you that our families thought we were quirky and took care of us. That person was incorrect. So incorrect.

By very early adulthood, my mother's war on autism (only since I can talk, I was “cured”, it was a war on weirdness, misbehavior, disrespect, what she perceived as willful faux cluelessness and laziness) had escalated to frank abuse, & she kicked me out of the house.

It was January. I was a statistic-a homeless autistic person. One of far, far too many.

I had read on the internet that services are a thing, that housing for people with disabilities is a thing, so I went to the local Arc to apply for services or at least get help applying for services. Do you know what they told me?

They told me that they had to talk to my parents. I was a legal adult, have never been under guardianship, and they would not talk to me, but only my parents. The parents who threw me out of their house after abusing me for years. THOSE parents. Those were the only people the Arc would interface with. They had no protocol whatsoever for working with adults with developmental disabilities who are independent but need a little help. Their one suggested resource, the local center for independent living, would not touch me with a 10 foot pole since I have developmental, not physical, disabilities.

The social safety net for all people is barely more navigable. It's more navigable in that it didn't require my mother. It's less navigable in that it required sitting in sensory hell for 4 hours waiting for them to call my number, every piece of documentation of income (or lack thereof) known to man, and it required making phone calls that never got returned on their schedule.

I would have starved to death waiting for foodstamps had another autistic person who has better phone skills than me-which is not difficult, incidentally-not called the worker who was supposed to call me back several times when they were not returning my calls.

And, Congresswoman Norton, I was one of the lucky ones. When I got kicked out, I got into a nice shelter, if such a thing can be said to exist. I was safer there than I was in my parents' home. I had someone who would call social service workers for me. I had a doctor who would fill out paperwork to keep me on necessary medication even though it is a pain in the ass. I had a social support structure that a lot of my Autistic peers just don't HAVE. The parent-centric service model was detrimental to my life, but it ends the lives of others.

This should not be the good outcome story here.

I'll tell you what happens to adult autistics, Congresswoman Norton: we don't fall into the cracks. We are shoved into the cracks. Those who deny our existence, like your colleagues, are doing nothing but shoving harder.

01 Dec 14:42

Sometimes there's no unitary rule

by Geoffrey K. Pullum

Some Language Log readers may feel that the two rules I discuss in my latest post on Lingua Franca, "One Rule to Ring Them All," are stated too loosely for their consequences to be clear. Let me explain here just a little more carefully. The topic under discussion is whether who should be in the nominative form (who) or the accusative form (whom) in sentences with structures broadly like [1]:

[1] He's the man who(m) everyone says will one day be king.

One informal version of the rule for deciding between who and whom in formal-style Standard English (and formal style is the only kind of English I'm talking about here; informal style would of course use who in [1]) would be this:

[2]   A preposed relative or interrogative who should be in the nominative form (who) if it is the subject of the relative or interrogative clause that it introduces, and in the accusative form (whom) otherwise.

A different possible version (also very informal) would be this:

[3]   A preposed relative or interrogative who should be in the nominative form (who) if it is understood with subject function in whatever clause it is functionally associated with, and in the accusative form (whom) otherwise.

The point I make in the Lingua Franca piece is that these have different consequences: the first says (as I interpret it, anyway) that whom is correct in [1], and the second rule says that who is correct.

It has occurred to me that we could make this a little more precise in an appealing way if we introduce two potentially useful terms both dependent on the same metaphor (I didn't try to do this in the limited space available on Lingua Franca).

Call a wh-word or wh-phrase a citizen of the clause where it performs a grammatical function like being Subject or Object or other complement (or being thus understood), and a resident of the clause that it actually appears in (or at the beginning of).

These two notions will coincide in a clause like Who cares about whether he agrees?, where who is both a citizen and a resident of the main clause (the one with care as its verb), and is the subject of that clause; but they pull apart in Who do you think they were looking at?, where who is a citizen of the most deeply embedded clause (the look clause, where it is understood as the complement of at) but a resident of the main clause (the do clause).

Using these terms, the rules for formal style could be restated as [2′] and [3′].

[2′]   A preposed relative or interrogative who should be in the nominative form if it is the subject of the clause in which it is a resident, and in the accusative form otherwise.
[3′]   A preposed relative or interrogative who should be in the nominative form if it is the subject of the clause in which it is a citizen, and in the accusative form otherwise.

In [1], the wh-pronoun who is a resident of the say clause but a citizen of the be clause. It's not the subject of the clause in which it is a resident, but it is the subject of the clause in which it is a citizen.

What I'm pointing out in the Lingua Franca piece (clearly enough, I hope, to be followed by anyone who knows about pronouns and relative clauses and subjects, though I think the terminology above makes it even clearer) is that to say that it is useless to stipulate that the case of who depends on whether it has subject function. That has no clear consequences at all. You have to answer the question: Subject of what?

And (I love this) The Elements of Style (4th ed., p. 11), typically for that incompetent little pamphlet of misinformation, makes a definite and dogmatic prescription to answer the question, but gives the rule in a form that entails the opposite answer! It says, "When who introduces a subordinate clause, its case depends on its function in that clause." That corresponds to [2] and [2′] (because the clause it introduces is the clause where it's a resident), not to [3] and [3′], referring to citizenship.

That is, in sentence [1], who clearly introduces the whole relative clause, everyone says __ will one day be king; and the subject of that clause is everyone. Since who is not the subject of the clause it introduces, the accusative form whom is predicted to be correct. That is the opposite of what was intended by Strunk and White. (Actually it was White, since he added the section I am talking about.) The rule statement was incorrect. The intention (as shown by the examples given, where the allegedly correct form is on the left and the purported correction is on the right) was to state a rule equivalent to [3] and [3′], making who the correct form.

The thing about all this that will give the purists the horrors is that we don't have a way to say either that [2] (= [2′]) is the right rule or that [3] (= [3′]) is. The corpus evidence is divided. Shakespeare seems to have favored [2]. Dickens favored [3]. (Invidious literary comparisons, anyone?) And whoever you pick, what will you say about Boswell, who apparently (according to Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of English Usage) vacillated between the two rules?

It's the neatest case I know of in which a dispute about what's correct turns out to have no possible resolution, because there are two perfectly defensible rules that have slightly different consequences, and the evidence from literature says that different writers make different choices of rule. It means that the dispute between two varieties of purist can go on forever, and the descriptivists can never stop them fighting. Imagine them…

A: "It should be whom, of course. The logical thing to do is to have the pronoun's case settled according to the clause the pronoun is actually in, and it's not the subject there."

B: "No, it's who. The logical thing is to have the pronoun's case settled according to the clause in which the pronoun is understood to function."

A: "That's not logical at all; it's stupid."

B: "No it's not, idiot. It makes perfectly good sense. It's you that's stupid."

A: "Oh yeah? Don't call me stupid just because I'm not buying your cockamamie, mystical, 'understood-to-function' bullshit rule!"

B: "Well you are stupid. And you're ugly, too. God, your head looks weird when you shout."

A: "Ha! You, calling me ugly, when you drive a car like that crappy old thing you turned up in!"

B: "There's nothing wrong with my Oldsmobile! You think you're cool because you drive a fucking Volvo? If you're going to insult my wheels I'm going to have to ask you to step outside!"

A: "I'd happily step outside right now and beat the crap out of you, except that I wouldn't want to get my hands all smelly."

B: "You're a fuckhead. And as a grammarian you'd make a pretty good janitor."

A: "Well you're an illiterate dork, and and as a janitor you'd make a pretty good asshole."

B: "Yeah, I bet you know all about assholes, given your rumored predilections…"

There'll be no end to it, ever. We will all die before the issue of where to use who and whom is settled in our culture. If the comments area below the Lingua Franca post doesn't provide evidence of that, then I will be mighty surprised.

01 Dec 13:20

Nick Clegg’s Garden Cities – Thinking Big, But Are There Any Foundations?

by Alex Wilcock
Last weekend’s Letter from the Leader was Nick Clegg’s boldest email missive for some time: headed “We need to think big,” it turned his speech on Housing last week into a rallying cry to Liberal Democrats. Starting with new Coalition plans to add an extra 50,000 homes, he outlined a vision of new “Garden Cities” adding up to a million in a decade. Nick’s inspired me not just to examine his new big idea, but to come up with hard-headed tests for any major policy proposal – not least ‘Can we get it done?’ and ‘Will we get any credit?’

The text of this Letter from the Leader is not yet available to read on Nick Clegg’s website (though you can sign up there to receive future ones), nor the Lib Dem website, though Lib Dem Voice have helpfully reprinted it on theirs. You can, however, read his speech to National House-building Council on the Deputy Prime Minister’s official website.

The Housing Crisis

Housing has been an increasing problem in Britain for decades, but there’s no doubt that in the last few years the problems have boomed exactly as new houses haven’t. The population is rising; the number of smaller households is rising at a faster rate than the rest of the population; populations are not rising evenly across the UK, but in particular areas, notably the South East; and so house prices and rents are rising way ahead of general inflation, which both denies access to the housing ladder to many and through housing benefit massively distorts the benefits system (as I wrote earlier this year when proposing pilot studies for one part-solution that might be better than the alternatives – assuming no massive new miracle building programme that would drive down house prices and better manage the overcrowding of the South-East, as Nick’s might in a perfect world).

No government in my lifetime has done anything much about housing, save for the Tories’ 1980s plan of selling off social housing – which increased home ownership at the time, but which without replacement stock has long since come to a natural halt as a policy with broad appeal or effect. For whatever reason – ideological, financial, fear of confrontation – no level of government has made housing a priority for a long time, while for a different variety of reasons the private sector has simply not kept up with demand (and not been popular for “sprawl” where it’s tried bit by bit).

Nick Clegg last week made a speech in which he called for a bold turnaround – not just setting out some of the Coalition’s piecemeal policies to help building get off the ground in areas where it’s teetering on happening, but the sort of massive new, planned building programme I simply skipped over when I last wrote about housing because no-one was going to do it. And yet, when our national deficit is still in crisis and reducing ongoing borrowing, Nick proposes all this – surely a far better solution to soaring benefits rates than simply cutting them and hoping people can still find housing, but, as Sir Humphrey would say, bold. Having read Nick’s speech and seen some of the reaction since, I think it could be marvellous if it happened, but were I a betting man I could make more than a property speculator in wagering it’s not going to.

Nick’s vision is of a Britain (though, in effect, mostly the South-East) blooming with dozens of new garden cities – described by commentators who like the idea as new Letchworths, and by those who don’t as an outbreak of Milton Keynes. It’s a clever pitch; you’d be hard-pressed to tell the difference between what a “garden city” is and what an “eco-town” is, save that one is couched in language of an older era that sounds traditional and reassuring and for which you can go to poster-towns like Letchworth to show how nice they are, while the other was a despised New Labour eyesore of political correctness and bossy government, so it’s no wonder they didn’t get going. But imagine either actually built and a visit to each, and I can’t imagine they’d look any different. So when the biggest barrier to these new towns other than the immense cost is all the many shades of NIMBYism, it helps that for those suspicious of new ways more than of falling house prices Nick can ‘speak Tory’.

“We Need To Think Big On Housing”

I agree with Nick’s ambition – and sometimes it’s good to take a risk. He does, right from the heading in that email to Lib Dem members that “We need to think big” and the introduction “I want to focus on an issue that wasn’t so high on the radar screen, but matters enormously to me: housing”.
“As a country, we have built too few homes for far too long – and the economic and social consequences are massive. Prices out of reach of too many young families. Our economy vulnerable to boom and bust in the housing market. The housing benefit bill spiralling. Homelessness and overcrowding.
“All these problems are solvable but only if we think big.”
Nick outlines the budgetary and regulatory changes the Coalition’s made to boost housing, and new funding he’s announced to develop nearly 50,000 new homes on top of over 100,000 this year – but he’s clear “it’s nowhere near enough,” with the population growing “by about 270,000 households” (unspecified, but he means per year). Now, I can do the maths, too: the boost he announced this week adds up to slightly less than 5% of the million new homes he’s calling for in the next ten years, and even a million homes in a decade is little more than a third of the number he implies will be needed. Perhaps Nick decided that “a million” was the biggest number he could mention before the fear factor became overwhelming.
“No wonder prices are out of reach for so many families. The average first time buyer is now 35, and home ownership is falling for the first time in a generation.”
“The only way out of this crisis is to build our way out.”
“I want us to go back to some of Britain’s proud heritage of urban development and build a new generation of “garden cities” – places that will grow, thrive and become part of the fabric of the nation.”
Again, Nick marshals a good case here, and it helps, again, that he speaks fluent Tory: he may have sensed a tipping point in ‘Middle England’. It’s no longer just people raising their skirts and drawbridges in horror at the thought of more houses spoiling their view and, worse, lowering their property prices, but that their grown-up children have nowhere to live – and couched in terms of tradition, not scary modernity. And it’s at that point that Nick pivots to anticipating problems:
“Of course development is always controversial. It’s right to protect our precious rural landscape and not let England be concreted over. But the point I’ve been making in government (and there have been some lively debates) is that planning big new settlements is the best way to protect our countryside because the alternative is endless urban sprawl.”
This, I think, is the key passage, which more than undersells one problem – the NIMBYs – and only hints at the other: will the Tories for a moment commit to this? Because the point at which I worry that this grand ambition becomes a house of cards is when it comes to putting the money in. Is this just a message from the Leader of the Liberal Democrats about positioning our aspirations, being on the side of young, growing families (which, to be fair to Nick’s consistency, is pretty much his whole message, whether taking about early education, social mobility or parental leave)? Or is it one from the Deputy Prime Minister that heralds a massive commitment by the LiberaTory Coalition Government? Because I’d expect a bit more of a fanfare if the latter, rather than merely a self-deprecating aside about arguments with the Tories.
“We can’t do this overnight. Scale and ambition take time. But I believe if we put aside partisan politics and think collectively about the housing needs of the next generation, we could set Britain on track for a major wave of new development, new jobs, and new hope.”
So, Nick, does that mean that not just the Tories but the Labour Party – which greeted your words with the mix of shrieking abuse and wanking into the wind with which they greet all your words – would have to be on side before any of this gets done? It seems the bigger the problem, the bigger the vision, the smaller the chance that any of it might ever happen.

This is the point at which I turned to Nick’s full speech to see if it offered anything more concrete (no, not nasty concrete, anything more flowery and trellised). It starts with a decent statement of purpose, on the money, at least:
“I came into this Coalition Government to build a stronger economy in a fairer society, so that everyone can get on in life.
“That has meant immediate action to pay down the deficit and pave the way for growth – of course. But it also means looking further ahead, too: 10, 15, 20 years down the line. And that’s where Britain’s house builders could not matter more.
“Think about where lasting prosperity is going to come from. We need to create an economy that doesn’t rely so heavily on our big banks, where growth is driven by a much more diverse private sector filled with entrepreneurs and small and medium sized firms, spread across the country.
“An economy where people with good ideas have a real chance of starting a business. Where firms seeking to grow can find the staff. Where young men and women can fulfil their potential.
“But, bluntly, no matter what we do, Britain will not finish this journey unless we build enough houses. That’s the absolute basics.
“Our communities will only sustain strong local economies if they can attract and house the employers, high-skilled workers and consumers they need.”
All that is entirely right. But implicit in it is that this is a policy to supply the parts of Britain – the parts of South-East England – that are already expanding. He doesn’t say in so many words that new towns are to follow the money and become handy commuting bases, but that’s the essential message – so the missing figures aren’t to do with not much over 10% of the country being built on now and only needing a couple more per cent with houses sitting on it to solve the problem, but what share of the landscape will need to become town in the areas people want to live to get the jobs. And I suspect those figures will be very much scarier.

Nick goes on to say, too, that:
“now is the moment for politicians of all stripes to get behind a major housing push.
“This will need to span more than one parliament. We need to work together, and we need to be ambitious in our approach.

“Departments aren’t used to thinking beyond the next Spending Review, or beyond the next Parliament – but we need to shift our sights to the horizon.”
Hmm. Good luck with that. On a more practical, deliverable note:
“I want us to make the best offers to the most ambitious proposals. So not just 5,000 new homes, but 15,000, 25,000.
“And what will be crucial in all of this is that while central government provides support, incentives and encouragement, that process will be locally-led.
“I lead a party that is localist to its core. We now have a chance to show that localism can deliver in a big way.
“I want us to prove that, when it comes to major development, we don’t need to revert to central planning, we can embrace a new era of community planning instead.”
That’s the nearest to a specific proposal in the speech, and the first half sounds hopeful – while the second sounds more of a hope than hopeful. I’d love it to be practical, but is it more an attempt to square the circle rhetorically between a localist party and planning running into local opposition than a practical plan to get things done?

I know it seems like I’m knocking the whole idea. But I’m trying to work out what Nick was actually trying to build up: houses, or hopes? Nick is right to come up with big ideas, and to sell them to the Party in the way he did at the weekend. The LiberaTory Coalition needs to inspire Liberal Democrats, let alone inspire voters, with positive prizes, not just restraining Tories. But I worry that this fanfare will only lead to disappointment and greater disillusionment among Party members if action doesn’t follow the call – and I can’t help but notice that this wasn’t a government plan, seemingly, but Nick’s. The government cash was only for 5% of it. Rather than just asking piecemeal, sprawling questions about elements of a speech or email, then, I’d like to propose my own strategic vision of big questions with which to test the big ideas.

Hard-headed Tests For Any Major Policy Proposal

If a speech in which “Nick Clegg calls for…” something is to have a more immediate impact than a Lib Dem motion where “Conference Calls For…”, we need to ask if it’s an aspiration, or if there’s real government drive – and money – behind it. And, for Lib Dems, we should ask something more. On the basis that if an idea’s good enough you should shamelessly nick it – something Lib Dems have long known to our cost – I’d like to focus Lib Dem minds with a message from Conservative Party part-owner Lord Ashcroft:
“Everything the Conservatives do between now and the next election must pass at least one of the following four tests, and it must not fail any of them.
  • “First, does it show we are sticking to the right priorities for the country?
  • “Secondly, does it show strong leadership?
  • “Thirdly, does it show we are on the side of the right people (and, if necessary, make the right enemies?)
  • “Fourthly, does it offer some reassurance about the Conservative Party’s character and motives?”
I don’t think this is a bad set of questions for us to ask, either – though Ashcroft’s questions show a confidence (or arrogance) that the Tories are leading the Government, can deliver, and will then get the credit (or blame) for any decisions. The last two and a half years have shown us that that isn’t really true – but that goes far more for the Liberal Democrats.

In effect, the only question the Lib Dems appear to have been asking in the first couple of years of the Coalition has been Ashcroft’s first – Is it the right thing to do? Which has led to some good government, some good policies, and many good kickings from voters who don’t see anything specific to give us credit for. Important as doing the right thing may be, if we selflessly serve the country while setting ourselves up for annihilation, we won’t be in a position to do the right thing for very long.

I think there are two key questions Liberal Democrats need to ask on top of Ashcroft’s tests.

Our reframing of “does it show strong leadership?” might simply be ‘Can we get it done?’ And at what price – in political capital, and in actual capital? Is it worth spending so much of either? Considering, too, “does it make the right enemies?” I might add that making the right enemies is all very well, but ‘Are we actually going to be able to beat them?’ Never mind local opposition; not only do we have to reach agreement with the Tory Leadership on the Government delivering anything not in the Coalition Agreement (and, increasingly, all over again on anything that is), but it’s obvious that thanks to Cameron’s “strong leadership” he’s increasingly unable to get his MPs to vote for anything he says. That’s the irony – Nick is seen as a weak Leader, but Lib Dem MPs are exceptionally united in voting for agreed proposals; it’s simply that there aren’t enough of them, and it’s the weak Tory Leadership that lets agreed Lib Dem priorities slide and makes us look a weak part of Government (and, conversely, the strong Lib Dem Leadership that often saves Cameron’s votes from his own rabble).

So, then, our first new question should be: ‘Can we get it done?’

Our second new question should be: ‘Will we get any credit?’


The cynical answer is ‘No’. Note that my questions, or something like them, must have been asked within the Party Leadership. The Lib Dems have clearly been thinking about specific, measurable claims that we might get credit for recently, rather than just ‘doing the right thing’ platitudes: the party slogan changing from “In government, on your side” of early in the Coalition to the much less inspiring but demonstrably true “Fairer tax in tough times”. And even then, with the massive rise in the personal allowance for most income-taxpayers the single policy the Lib Dems most banged on about at the last election and since, at the top of the list of four priorities on the cover of our 2010 Manifesto… Opinion polls show that only about 20% of people give us credit for it. So how wildly distinctive and how loudly and perpetually repeated does any policy have to be before anyone thinks of it as Lib Dem?

To aid any possibility of getting credit, then, there’s more to consider. The party has given precious little thought for many years to communicating our philosophy or core values, but to the extent that people have a sense of them or even vaguely ‘What the Lib Dems are about’, does a proposal arise naturally out of that? Would people think ‘That’s the sort of thing the Lib Dems like’? Is it something that we’ve consistently gone on about? If we adopt this policy and get the Coalition to act on it, will ministers be likely to keep going on about it, and will activists be inspired to keep campaigning on it? If the answer to many (or even any) of these questions is ‘No’, then the chances of it making an impact for the Lib Dems – as opposed to for the country – are practically non-existent.

There are two more big problems with my two more big questions. Firstly, the Lib Dems’ overriding focus on ‘Is it the right thing to do?’ both in Opposition and now in Government means that we’ve been much more willing than the other two parties to consider policies for the long term. The more ruthless ‘Can we get it done?’ and ‘Will we get any credit?’ are enemies of long-term thinking. A long-term plan is much more likely to cost money, and be changed or cancelled by changes in government; a long-term plan that succeeds is much less likely to be noticed in its early stages, or only be noticed for its downsides or not yet delivering, while the eventual credit is, again, something more likely to go to changes in government. I’ve always criticised governments for their short-termism; ironically, I’m now setting political tests that might encourage it.

Secondly, ‘Can we get it done?’ and ‘Will we get any credit?’ also clash with each other. Here’s the paradox of wanting both: the more distinctive a proposal, the less likely it is to be delivered through the Coalition; the more popular and consensual, the more likely it is that the Tories will claim the credit (and get it, thanks to all their friends in the media).

As it happens, I’m working on a Liberal Big Idea, too. Hopefully, I’ll be ready to come out with it in the next week or two. It does comes right out of our philosophy, it’s very distinctive, and it’d save a lot of money – so it sounds like it’d be good for all those tests. But in terms of making the right enemies, it’s a doozy – so the chances of it getting through any Coalition consensus aren’t high…

Nick’s New Big Idea: Will It Get Done, and Will He Get the Credit?

Can Nick deliver on this?

Improbably, the most hopeful straw in the wind in the last week has come from another Nick – Planning Minister and Tory MP Nick Boles. He spoke to Newsnight in a major piece on Wednesday night, complete with a smaller write-up on the BBC website. It was worth a look, and in the main he agreed with Nick – in almost as much as he could without ever once mentioning his speech or indeed his name. Bigging up his own constituency, not exactly a new town, I wondered if “It was not, you know, some grand prince’s design for a new town…” was not a swipe at Mr Clegg’s big vision, though his defence of new building against an array of the usual suspects in the studio sounded more in tune, and as the BBC trotted him off to existing garden city Letchworth to sing its praises the voiceover described such places as “The government’s answer”. So perhaps the Tories might move after all. Of course, I didn’t agree with everything Tory Nick said – the lovely Andy Hinton’s Tweets from the night summarise why succinctly:
“Impressive performance from Nick Boles on #newsnight, except for the pointlessly inflammatory insertion of immigration commentary.”

“Little house with a garden in the suburbs not for everyone. I like my large urban centre with good transport and a vibrant cultural life.”
I like cities, too, and from a party that keeps wanting to do away with the very idea of “human rights”, it was entertaining for Nick Boles to suggest a new human right to a garden – presumably making him so subsumed into the mindset of the typical Tory voter that he thinks everyone wants a nice little duckhouse near no loud noises and reacts with instinctual horror at the very idea of big cities (which no doubt has something to do with the fact that it’s decades since they last won seats in any of them). And I winced as he whistled up immigration, equally by Tory instinct. But on the whole, I saw in his attitude something we could (forgive me) build on, and hopefully the Planning Minister wouldn’t have just gone off on his own without at least some support from the Tory Leadership. Even with that sign of hope, though, watch the studio debate as people line up to attack new housing even when they’re really in agreement (hang your head, Wayne Hemingway) because they assume that it won’t be exactly what they want and so must be opposed until perfection is offered on a plate. Oh, and Paxman’s sneering faux-outrage at someone sounding momentarily more of a snob than he is was beneath contempt, but who didn’t expect that?

Will the Lib Dems get any credit if these new cities happen?

Well, the ‘garden’ part, and Nick taking a lead, might help – I may have characterised his reassuring framing of new towns as tradition as his ‘speaking Tory’, but it’s also true that the environment is among the few sorts of issue that polls suggest people associate us with. So if these massive building projects end up being real ‘garden cities’, that might chime. Unfortunately, along the way, they’re… Massive building projects. As I found above, Nick’s speech itself enabled me to put this grand vision into the context of what he, rather than the Lib Dems in general, has been banging on about for years – though it’s a slight worry that I had to do the contextualising myself, rather than the speech (still less the email) joining the dots.

And never mind the theme: what about who else takes it up? Look at the article on Nick Boles: no mention of “garden cities” from him. Listen to what he had to say on Newsnight: no mention of “garden cities” by him there either, though the framing at least implied something like them, and the voiceover that, hopefully, mentioned them as “The government’s answer”. Within just days of this being Nick Clegg’s next big thing, though, the number of times ‘our’ Nick was mentioned by either Tory Nick (predictably) or by the BBC (also predictably) was… Zero.

Remember, too, that “Of course development is always controversial.” If it’s done by private enterprise, people won’t think of it as a government initiative – unless it’s for someone to blame. And if it’s to be built over ten years, then who’ll remember who started it? Is it something that comes obviously from our philosophy, or that we’ve always been banging on about, then? Basically, no. We’ve not had any big ideas on housing until last week – neither has anyone else (not since the Tories came up with the idea of selling it). Look at the “What we stand for” section on the Lib Dem website: as well as an embarrassing lack of any statement of values or philosophy, merely a set of policy headings, there’s not even any heading for ‘Housing’. So will we refashion ourselves as ‘the party of housing?’ That’ll take an awful lot of doing.


I hope Nick – with help from Nick – does manage to get building. But I’d watch carefully for just how hard and how long he pushes for it, and whether any non-Nicks in Government join the clamour… And until then, I’d hesitate before making it a headline promise on your next FOCUS.


Featured on Liberal Democrat Voice
01 Dec 13:10

#415 Dungeon Creep

by noreply@blogger.com (treelobsters)
01 Dec 13:08

#425 Have You Been Saved?

by noreply@blogger.com (treelobsters)
01 Dec 13:08

#427 'Path Finder

by noreply@blogger.com (treelobsters)
01 Dec 13:07

Saving the world: Some billionaires try. Now see your lazy-effective way!

by David Brin
You don't have to be reminded. Forward looking folks know this time of year is when we re-assess our annual donations and find ways to help tilt the scales toward a more favorable tomorrow. But is there an aspect of ultimate self-interest?
Consider. What criteria will future generations use, when they decide which people from our era to up/down/in-load or simulate or whatever tech-apotheosis you yearn for them to provide? Won't they factor in not only how interesting you would be to have around, but also how hard you tried to be - in the words of Jonas Salk - a good ancestor?
tpslogoOf course what I'm describing is eerily similar to the deal offered to our grandparents and their grandparents... redemption through good thoughts and good works. Only now we're talking about a process that will be both palpable and propelled by physical law.
(Ironic, huh? Still, whether you are placating a judgmental deity, or earning cred with our future, godlike descendants, it does boil down to the same thing. Help make things better. And maybe there'll be a prize to go along with the satisfaction.)
I've long promoted what I think is the most effective means for a modern, busy person to invest in improving the world... a method that makes efficient use of your time and money, and in ways that those future folk may notice. That method is called Proxy Power. It consists of buying subscriptions to groups and orgs and NGOs who pool their members' dues and influence to support full time activists, who then take action to make a better world on your behalf!
Organizations like the Sierra ClubOxfam, the Red Cross or the ACLU are the great equalizers of our new civilization. They are how millions of smalltimers or average folk can together hire lawyers on a par with oligarchs, or fill a ship with food and schoolbooks, or stop whalers, or preserve an aquifer, or free a whistleblower, or replenish the blood supply, or lobby for a simpler tax code, or help poor girls in Pakistan go to school or...
EFF-logoDo read my old appeal on this matter. Not only in a spirit of philanthropy - perhaps inspired by the season - or to help your children or save your nation and world, but also out of enlightened self-interest and desire to help convince those who hold the keys of heaven -- or a future heavenly simulation -- to smile and admit that you were one of the okay ones.  (Also, at year end you can assess your tax situation and still squeeze a few deductions into 2012.)
== Quirky choices ==
Mix and match organizations who cover the bases you want covered! Say for example: one for hunger (Oxfam? or the Heifer Project?) and two for freedom (ACLU and/or Electronic Frontier Foundation and/or Project Witness)  Followed by one agitator environmental organization (Greenpeace) and one eco-negotiator (the Sierra Club). One that goes directly to helping real people, one or two at a time (e.g. Doctors Without Borders or Habitat for Humanity). Throw in your local library or PBS station, Planned Parenthood and the Libertarian Party or The Planetary Society and The Skeptic Society.... you get the drift. (BTW: I don't send money to all of these, every year.)
skepticOkay, okay. I figure a couple of your choices may differ, or even cancel some of mine! So? We're all winners through lively and informed debate.  And the passionate geeks and attorneys we hire with our proxy dues will be passionately, geekily informed debaters on our behalf!
sierraclub-logoOh, and let me admit that some of my own choices may seem quirky. Every year since 1979, for example, I've sent a small check to a little Treasury Dept. office in Parkersburg West Virginia, to be applied against the U.S. national debt. That's beyond my regular taxes. Sometimes (in lean years) the donation is very small, sometimes larger. Call it a statement in my own mind of how grateful I am, not to live in the 99% of human cultures that would have burned or garroted or skewered or drowned a guy like me before I was sixteen. A society that instead pays and honors me to be like this. So no, I won't commit the churlish, vile sin of ingratitude. No, not that sin.  Others, but not that one.
== And more reasons to believe... ==
Of course, all of this bears upon the notion that cynicism is getting tiresome. Below, I will show evidence that folks are fighting back, ranging from several famous billionaires to a quoted passage from Charles Stross to recent endeavors by Neal Stephenson, Greg Bear, Vernor Vinge, Bruce Sterling and myself, persuading science fiction authors to return to the great old can-do spirit.  But first...

A cute "Tree Lobsters" cartoon lays down that same fundamental problem mentioned above... faced by all of those who have bought expensive cryonics contracts, in hope of being revived in some future age.  Why would future folk want you?  By now you know how to answer that. Make a pact with tomorrow.
Or, for a much deeper immersion into the concepts behind all this, watch Jaan Tallin (founder of Skype and venture capitalist) give an amazing Singularity talk about your hope of being a featured simulation.
Speaking of folks worthy of uploading/reviving/whatever? Did any of you see Jon Stewart interview Warren Buffett and his biographer?  The Oracle of Omaha, indeed.  Got rich by being smart. Smart and trustwortthy. Even smart enough to know what it all is really about, and why solipsism is for dopes. Go Warren! (More on good billionaires below.)
Will it work? Mind Meld asks authors, including Brenda Cooper and Charles Stross -- and yours truly -- about optimistic scenarios for our future world. Why they are rare amid waves of dystopias. And how hope really matters.
Of course, at the opposite extreme are the scrooges. See this older posting of mine that lays down the conflict before us. The Relevance of an Old Nemesis - as Even Older Ones Return.
Ponder doing your gift shopping at Costco - where workers earn 45% above industry standard and get profit sharing - versus Walmart, whose employees desperately take in an average of $500,000 in food stamps and other public support, per store.
... and then we come to...
== The Era of the Nerds? ==
Uber nerd Nate Silver on talk shows is such a geek!  But that is so "in" now... that I figure Silver is fielding embarrassing calls from sperm banks.  Here's something only a sci fi author would extrapolate. Watch  the kindergartens for 200 miles surrounding his present digs, 6 years from now. Oh, this will have repercussions for centuries to come.
Speaking of uber-nerds. Sergey Brin asks the election winner to quit his own party.  Not a bad idea.  Related to my Stipulation proposal. Worth pondering.
Aw heck, let's make this whole section about my billionaire acquaintances, Sterling examples of give-back moguls who earned their wealth with brilliant goods and services, but haven't forgotten the context of it all.

Take Elon Musk. Elon's at it again.  Pushing at us to be all that we can be. I sat in his living room one evening and heard about his plans to get a human colony on Mars... must be a decade ago. Now you get to read all about it. How big a statue at the base of Olympus Mons do you think he'll deserve, if this comes true?
Standing next to Elon on Mars? Amazon's Jeff Bezos: the ultimate disrupter - a fascinating look at an American original. One of the transforming figures of our time... and a really nice guy.
All right, in Existence I make it plain, the billionaires will matter, especially if the good ones join us in staving off the depredations of bad oligarchs.  Still, go back to my appeal at the top of this missive. We will matter far more, over the long run.
... and if you need more convincing...
== Back to investing in Optimism ==
There's this, from the fellow who coined the phrase the rapture of the nerds... Charles Stross offers reasons to be cheerful.
"...we're close to exterminating polio and dracunculiasis (aka guinea worm disease) in the wild. (Two extinctions I won't be shedding any tears over.)
'In other news of improvements, both China and India underwent annual economic growth averaging around 10% per year throughout the decade. The sheer scale of it is mind-numbing; it's as if the entire population of the USA and the EU combined had gone from third-world poverty to first-world standards of living. (There are still a lot of dirt-poor peasants left behind in villages, and a lot of economic — never mind political — problems with both India and China's developed urban sectors, but overall, life is vastly better today than it was a decade ago for around a billion people.)
'The number of people living in poverty and with unsafe water supplies world-wide today is about the same as it was in 1970. Only difference is, there were 3 billion of us back then and today we're nearer to 7 billion. Upshot: the proportion of us humans on this planet who are living in third world poverty (unable to afford enough food, water, clothing and shelter) has actually been halved."
Hm... as we've seen this time, there are guarded reasons for tense, tentative hope.
We're navigating harsh shoals but fair harbors are in sight. That's exactly the time when all hands are needed at the sails and tiller and sounding lines, bringing to action every tool of heart and mind!
Cynicism is for saps and indignation junkies and traitors to hope. It is an excuse for laziness, leaving to others the grown-up task of study and research and negotiation and hard work and innovating and saving the world.
We can get there. I just showed you how easy, simple and cheap it is to do at least the minimum, choosing half a dozen groups to save the world for you! And thus you can go on record as one of the good guys.  One of those who helped to make a dazzling future for our godlike heirs.


. . ...a collaborative contrarian product of David Brin, Enlightenment Civilization, obstinate human nature... and http://davidbrin.blogspot.com/ (site feed URL: http://davidbrin.blogspot.com/atom.xml)
01 Dec 13:00

SAVE YOUR KISSES FOR ME

by Adam Curtis

HOW THE MUSLIM BROTHERHOOD, HAMAS AND THE ISRAELI RIGHT BECAME CO-DEPENDENTS IN AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP

 

Last week there was yet another cycle of horrific violence in the Gaza strip. This week there are demonstrations in Cairo driven by fears that the revolution is being hi-jacked by the Islamists. Liberals in the west look on baffled and horrified. What they thought was a glorious revolution in the Arab world is morphing into something they don't understand. While Gaza is like some brutal other planet forever possessed by hi-tech assassinations and bearded aliens dragging corpses around the streets on motor cycles.

All this is comprehensible though - but only if you look at it in a wider context. A context that western liberals really don't like to think about because it makes them very depressed. It is the great shift of our time - the collapse of the dream that politicians could change the world for the better. A dream that was replaced by a conviction that politicians were untrustworthy and always become corrupted by power.

The collapse of that optimistic vision of what politics could achieve then left the way open for powerful, reactionary forces to take power who don't want to change the world. Instead they want to manage the world and hold it stable - backed up by the threat of violence. A threat to which they have become increasingly addicted.

This has happened not only in America and in Britain - but all over the world. And I want to tell the story of how it happened in the Middle East. It is the intertwined story of the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, Hamas in the Gaza strip and the reactionary right-wing nationalist groups in Israel.

All three groups are driven by an angry, pessimistic vision of the world, of human nature - and the inability of politicians to transform things for the better. It's a fascinating story because it shows how the underlying similarities led those groups to become tightly locked together - helping each other cement their ruthless grip on their people - and freeze out any progressive alternatives. 

 

The story begins nearly a hundred years ago with one of the great examples of how you can never trust politicians.

The British promised the Arabs that they would create a new and better world for them. The only problem is that they promised the Jews the very same thing.

In 1915, at the height of the First World War, Sir Henry McMahon, the British High Commissioner in Egypt made an agreement with the Emir of Mecca. It said that if the Arabs helped the British overthrow the Turks who ruled Palestine - then the British would in return give the Arabs independence. Lawrence of Arabia - TE Lawrence - was one of the British agents sent to help organise the Arab Revolt.

But two years later later the British Foreign secretary, Arthur Balfour, promised the Zionist movement that a permanent Jewish homeland would be set up in Palestine. Zionism was in many ways a utopian movement. It had been invented by Theodor Herzl in the 1890s, and he believed that a Jewish state would not just rescue Jews from persecution, but it would also transform them. The state of Israel would be a new kind of environment which would turn its people into stronger and better kinds of human beings.

The British didn't care about that kind of thing. They were desperate to get America into the war on their side - and one of the reasons for the Balfour declaration was to curry favour with the Zionists and their supporters in America.

Here is part of a massive TV series made in the 1960s called The Great War. It tells the story of how in 1917 the British came to find themselves marching into Gaza (what is today the Gaza Strip) on their way to conquer Jerusalem - and the nightmare that trapped them in that small strip of land.

It also gives a very good sense of the background pressures that led Britain to making the contradictory promises.

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In the 1920s Britain took over the running of Palestine and came face to face with their hypocrisy and deceit.

On the one hand Jewish immigrants began to arrive in their thousands, buying up the land from the old Palestinian families. While the Arabs were furious at what they saw as British treachery and a revolt began to grow against both the British and the Jews.

One of the main leaders of the Palestinian Arab revolt was Sheikh Izz al-Din al-Qassam. He is forgotten in the west today - but not by Palestinian Arabs and above all by Hamas who see him as the first true Islamist revolutionary. The thousands of Qassam rockets that were fired from the Gaza strip last week are named after him, as is Hamas' military wing - the Qassam Brigades.

 

Qassam had studied at Al-Azhar university in Cairo and had become one of new wave of reformists who argued that Islam should be cleansed of all the rituals and superstitions that had grown up over 1200 years. It could then become a powerful faith that would deal with all the modern forces at play in society - economic and scientific and political.

And he believed it could help lead a revolt against British power and the Jewish immigrants. Qassam went to the city of Haifa and began attracting followers - promoting the idea of a jihad against the occupying powers. You couldn't trust the old families who run Palestinian society, he said, because they had sold out, as had the politicians and the traditional religious leaders.

The Palestine Post recorded one of Qassam's speeches ending angrily: "Jews do not have to take the country by force as the Arabs are selling it to them"

Here is part of a film that gives a powerful sense of the strange world that Qassam was fighting against. It is about one of the surviving members of a grand Palestinian landowning family. She is called Malika Shawa - and when the film was shot in the late 80s she was running the only hotel in the Gaza Strip, playing the piano as all around her the first intifada was erupting.

The film shows how involved the Palestinian elites had become with the British rulers. Malika tells of her time being educated at Cheltenham Ladies College.

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In the 1930s Qassam formed The Black Hand Gang. He and a group of followers took to the hills and for five years they launched armed attacks on Jewish settlements and on the British military and police.

The British called him "The Brigand Sheikh" and he became a terrifying figure - it was said that he would send his followers to kill anyone that said anything bad about him. But in November 1935 the British cornered him in a cave and Qassam was killed in a  violent shootout.

It is important to realise that Qassam saw politicians as part of the problem. Like Hassan al Bana who had founded the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in the 1920s with the slogan "The Koran is our Constitution", Qassam saw modernised Islam as a total system that could replace politics. You had to do this because if you left politicians to their own devices they lied and betrayed you, as the British had done, or sold you out, as the Palestinian elites were doing.

In contrast, the Zionists who were moving into Haifa and the rest of Palestine in the 1930s believed deeply in the power of science, technology and politics to change the world for the better. Many of them had read a novel written by Theodor Herzl in 1902 called Altneuland - Old New Land.

 

The novel is a utopian vision of a future perfect society set up in Palestine with the city of Haifa at it's heart - Herzl calls it "The City of the Future." Herzl's Zionism was part of a socialist vision of utopia that went back to writers like Fourier and Saint Simon, and he described a society where the land was under common ownership and people lived in co-operatives and communes. There was also a model welfare system, no social classes and exploitation - yet individuals could pursue their own ends and profit by them.

It was a glorious vision, but it was also firmly rooted in the European tradition of empire. In the novel the characters listen to a phonograph roll that describes the achievements of The New Society for the Colonisation of Palestine. It describes how the benevolent technocracy that runs this new society has brought the benefits of European progress to a backward and sparsely populated land.

That's not quite how Sheikh Qassam and his Black Hand Gang saw the Jewish settlers.

 

But then - in the late 1940s - a new political force emerged to challenge Zionism - Arab nationalism.

It's charismatic leader was the President of the new independent Egypt - Gamal Abdel Nasser. He became a heroic and inspirational figure for millions of Arabs because he promised a united Arab world that would become strong enough to challenge western imperialism.

And also strong enough to challenge the new state of Israel which had been established in Palestine after the war of 1948 between the Arabs and the Jews.

Here is Nasser talking about the revolution he has begun - and you get a good sense of the progressive optimism at its heart. Nasser was convinced that the Arab people could be transformed by a modern planned socialist society into new, more confident individuals who would no longer meekly accept the iron hand of authoritarian dictators who were backed by the west.

Nasser was ignoring the fact that he himself was an authoritarian dictator.

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And Nasser began to organise the fight against Israel - using the Gaza strip as the base.

After the 1948 war hundreds of thousands of Palestinians had ended up living in refugee camps in Gaza. Beginning in 1955 Nasser got Egyptian intelligence to organise small resistance groups from the Palestinians in the camps. They were called Fedayeen and they started to do hit and run attacks into Israel.

Israel retaliated by attacking the Gaza strip and the border guards. The man who led the commando units that fought back against the Fedayeen was a young Ariel Sharon.

Here are the fragments of film from the archive that report those incidents. What is really interesting is how forcefully both America and Britain in the UN condemn the Israeli actions.

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At first the Islamists - the Muslim Brotherhood - welcomed Nasser. They liked the fact that he banned all political parties because it seemed to fit with their ideas about the "unity of the faithful". But they quickly discovered that Nasser's idea was to turn Egypt into a modern secular society - inspired by socialist ideas and driven by the by the ideology of authoritarian nationalism.

So they tried to assassinate him. In turn Nasser jailed or hanged several of their leaders and sent the rest into exile. Everyone thought the Muslim Brothers were finished - another hangover from colonial times gone forever.

I have found a fascinating film in the archive which shows how dramatically marginalized the religious establishment became under Nasser. It's about the famous Muslim University at the grand Al Azhar mosque in Cairo. For centuries it had been the powerhouse of Islamic thought throughout the Arab world. It was the place that Sheikh Qassam had gone to study - and where he had become inspired by the new radical ideas of reforming Islam.

But now Al Azhar was under orders from the revolution to modernize in a very different way. The film shows how the revolutionary government has insisted that Al Azhar teach courses that have nothing to do with religion - even a department of Business has been formed.

And the new, modernising head of Al-Azhar says he is trying to prevent a class of "priests" arising who will stop progress.

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In the 1950s Israel was also driven by a deep sense of progressive optimism. And in an odd way it mirrored the ideas of a planned socialist society that Nasser was trying to build.

Starting in the 1930s, the Israelis set out to try and build in Palestine the new kind of Zionist society that Theodor Herzl had laid out in his novel Altneuland - Old New Land. The new capital was called Tel Aviv - which was the Hebrew title given to Herzl's novel by it's translator. It roughly means "a new spring coming from an old mound".

The new city was constructed as a grand experiment in town planning. It was based on plans drawn up by the Scottish town planner, Patrick Geddes. His ideas about how cities could be planned came from the same utopian traditions as Herzl's belief in a socialist planned society. What linked them was the technocratic belief that flourished in the 1930s - and again in the 1950s - that you could shape the environment around human beings as a total system that would make them stronger, more confident and morally better human beings.

It was a grand dream. Here is Patrick Geddes.

 

And here is the utopian city that was built according to his plans - it was called "The White City". Many of the architects who actually designed it had been trained in the 1930s at the Bauhaus school and were deeply influenced by the ideas of Le Corbusier. One pamphlet described the ideas behind it:

"The city is an experimental laboratory for the implementation of modern principles of planning and architecture, it has influenced the whole country.

The plan was based on the idea of creating a new place for a new society, where the Zionist ideal would come true through the Modern Movement. It is also a synthesis between Oriental and Western cultures."

 

And in the 1950s - that utopianism spread through a lot of Israeli society . At it's heart was the kibbutz movement. Again the idea of the kibbutz had been developed in the 1920s - and was an attempt to create model socialist collectives that were a concrete expression of the Zionist theory.

The kibbutzim were more than just a collective way of managing the land. They were seen as a new kind of environment in which individuals would come together in the evenings, have group dances and then group discussions. In some cases the discussions were like early versions of group therapy - individuals being given permission to express their ideas and feelings. Out of all this would come "new people".

Unfortunately many of the kibbutzim had been constructed on land on which Palestinian Arabs had lived - and whose families now lived in cramped misery in the refugee camps in the Gaza strip. And increasingly there was a realisation in Israel that the kibbutzim were a powerful weapon in establishing a more permanent Israeli presence in the outlying fringes of the new state.

The kibbutzim in the 1950s and 60s became a weird combination of happy-clappy utopian socialism and an armed fearfulness - with bomb shelters and trenches built around their modernist-inspired communal halls.  It was a bit like some JG Ballard story.

 

But then a character from the past came back in a dramatic way into the heart of Israeli society. And his presence - and what he said - sent out shockwaves that began to undermine the very underpinnings of the optimistic progressivism at the heart of Israeli society.

In May 1960 a group of Mossad agents kidnapped Adolf Eichmann in Argentina. They drugged him and flew him to Israel on an El Al plane disguised as a member of the plane's crew.The kidnapping was a world-wide sensation because Eichmann had been one of the main organisers of the Final Solution - the mass extermination of the Jews.

 

A year later the Israelis put Eichmann on trial in Jerusalem. He was encased in a bulletproof glass booth - and it became a powerful image of this terrifying figure who had organised the Holocaust sitting on show in the midst of the new state of Israel.

 

A number of historians have argued that Eichmann's trial created an enormous shock to Israeli society because for the fifteen years after the second world war no one in Israel - or in the Jewish communities in America - really talked about the Holocaust. It was if it was forgotten and wiped.

Hundreds of thousand of survivors from the death camps came to Israel, but the mood among them was to look towards the future - turning their faces towards a better future promised by the Zionist dream, and trying to forget the horrors of the past.

Above all they didn't want to be seen as victims in an optimistic age. The leader of the American Jewish Committee wrote that

"Jewish organizations should avoid representing the Jew as weak, victimized and suffering" Because it reinforced "long ingrained stereotypes - the hunted wanderer, inured to universal hatred and contempt"

Other historians have challenged this argument - and it can quickly lead into the dead end of arguments about how the memory of the Holocaust has been used and abused.

But I have found a really interesting film shot in Israel in 1961 during the Eichmann trial. It asks ordinary Israelis - including some on a kibbutz - what they feel about Eichmann and his effect on their world. Some approve - but the majority feeling is that this should have been forgotten - and is doing real harm to the new country of Israel.

One woman who speaks very powerfully finishes - "I would be happy if he had never entered this country"

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But that was only the beginning of the terrible corrosive effect Eichmann was going to have not just on Israeli optimism about their society - but on the whole western liberal belief that human beings could be transformed for the better.

In 1963 a political philosopher called Hannah Arendt who had attended the Eichmann trial published a series of articles in the New Yorker. In them she challenged the idea put forward by the Israeli prosecutors that Eichmann was a special kind of evil human being. Arendt argued that he was the very opposite - that he was "terrifyingly normal". That far from being a demonic monster he was actually a bland, mindless and extremely efficient bureaucrat. He was motivated, she said by personal ambition and that he wasn't even particularly anti-semitic.

Arendt called it "the banality of evil".

"evil deeds, committed on a gigantic scale, which could not be traced to any particularity of wickedness, pathology, or ideological conviction in the doer.

However monstrous the deeds were, the doer was neither monstrous nor demonic.

Evil can spread over the whole world like a fungus and lay waste precisely because it is not rooted anywhere. It was the most banal motives, not especially wicked ones which made Eichmann such a frightful evil-doer."

Arendt's reports caused an outrage. The journalist Norman Podhoretz wrote that Arendt's picture of Eichmann -

"violates everything we know about the Nature of Man."

And that went to the heart of it. Because what Arendt was implying was that human beings might not be changeable or perfectible. That anyone could do really evil, horrible things any time depending on the circumstances they found themselves in. And what was worse - that the modern world of intricate bureaucracies and bland management might make it more possible.

It was a pretty pessimistic and conservative view of human beings - and it challenged the idea that you could change the world for the better. And this dark frightening idea, born out of the horrors of twenty years before, began to worm its way into the post war optimism not just in Israel but a whole generation of liberals in Europe and America.

 

Here is part of a documentary about Arendt and the trial of Eichmann. The first interviewee is Arendt's biographer, the second is one of her students. They are intercut with the extraordinary defence Eichmann gave at the trial. He does sound like a General Manager trying to excuse himself.

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And four years later the optimistic vision of the future that Nasser had held out to the Arab people also began to collapse - because of Israel.

In June 1967 Nasser was told by the Soviet Union that Israel was planning to attack Egypt - so he began to mass troops. The report was false - but in response the Israelis launched a pre-emptive attack against Egypt and Syria.

It was a catastrophe for the Arab states. In six days Egypt's military was overwhelmingly defeated. It was also a crippling humiliation for Nasser because it exposed as a sham his promise that the Zionist state would be annihilated. Nasser then behaved like a petulant drama queen - resigning in a spectacular public way, then retracting it.

Millions still loved Nasser - but the defeat was the beginning of the end of the dream that a new confident Pan-Arabism could transform the fortunes and the subservient psychology of the Arab people. Left wing students began to protest in Cairo - they demanded Egypt attack Israel again, and they blamed the defeat on corrupt generals who headed the Egyptian Army.

But power in the struggle with Israel was now seized by the revolutionary left in the Palestinian refugee camps. In 1969 Yasser Arafat became the head of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation which was an umbrella for a range of left-wing, secular groups - including Arafat's own Fatah organisation.

And again Gaza was the centre of the opposition. After the Six Day war Israel had taken over both Gaza and the Sinai peninsula and the Palestinian refugees now found themselves facing the Israelis as their overlords.

Here are some of the earliest news reports from Gaza about the new young terrorists who are promising to rid Palestine of the state of Israel. It begins in 1969 with the coverage of three Palestinian schoolgirls who have been arrested and put on trial for supporting "a subversive organisation"

It is all a bit ramshackle, and the journalists have no idea really what they are reporting on. Then I have added a report from just three years later - 1972 - about  an Al-Fatah training school for children. It shows just how quickly the movement has grown - and how intense the belief in the armed struggle had become.

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Although Nasser's dream had failed - and he died in 1970 - the PLO and their fighters had inherited his progressive world view. Many of the groups in the PLO were left wing revolutionaries and they believed that they were not only fighting to get rid of Israel, but also to create a new kind of secular, socialist state in Palestine.

But in Egypt that optimistic view of politics and its ability to transform society was collapsing. A vacuum was opening up which would be filled by the group that only fifteen years before everyone thought was dead and buried - the Islamist Muslim Brotherhood, along with their much more conservative view of how to run society.

In 1975 a feature film was made called Al-Karnak. It told the story of how after the defeat in 1967 hundreds of Nasser's opponents had been jailed and tortured. The film showed the torture in detail and it was a powerful exposure of how Nasser's visionary ideals had become horrifically corrupted.

It seemed to prove dramatically the central message of the Islamist movement - that if you gave power to politicians in a secular society they would inevitably become corrupted and dangerous - however noble their original ideals had been.

Here is part of a documentary made in Cairo as the movie gripped both the elites and ordinary Egyptians. It begins with Mustafa Amin - a famous journalist who had been one of those imprisoned and tortured. Then it goes on to the sensation caused by the movie. It is a good report because it gives a real feeling of the changing mood within the Arab world at that moment in the mid 1970s

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And that pessimistic mood began to spread through the Palestinian resistance movement too - carried by the odd logic of terrorist violence. Because the terrorists' actions would lead them to be haunted by the same old ghost that Eichmann had brought back into the heart of Israel - the Final Solution.

Since the early 1970s various different Palestinian groups had hi-jacked western passenger planes. The motive was to draw attention to the plight of the Palestinian people and their fight against Israeli occupation. They also had developed close links with a number of western terrorist groups - in particular the groups in West Germany like the Red Army Faction, and The Revolutionary Cells.

 

In June 1976 a group of terrorists hi-jacked an Air France plane and flew it to Entebbe in Uganda. Some of the terrorists were from the Patriotic Front for the Liberation of Palestine, others were from the German Revolutionary Cells. At Entebbe the terrorists began inspecting the passengers' passports. As they did so they separated the Jewish passengers out from the others, and said they would release the non-Jewish hostages.

It was a powerfully symbolic moment for the revolutionary left - both Palestinian and German. They had turned to violence in the belief that they were fighting to go forwards - to liberate Palestine and create a new revolutionary world. Instead they now found themselves behaving like the Nazis thirty years ago separating the jews out from the others.

One of the Jewish hostages later described how he had shown the terrorists the concentration camp number tatooed on his arm. He described how one of the German terrorists, Wilfried Bose, plaintively responded - "I'm no Nazi - I'm an idealist"

It seemed that idealism might be taking the secular revolutionary movement not forwards into a better future but backwards into the very worst times of the past.

It is also important to remember that one of the Israeli rescuers who was killed at Entebbe was Jonathan Netanyahu. He was the older brother of Benjamin Netanyahu - the future Prime Minister of Israel. His brother's death, it is said, was a powerful shaping force on the younger brother.

 

By the late 1970s there was a massive political, social and moral vacuum at the heart of Egypt - and much of the Arab World. The collapse of President Nasser's grand progressive, and secular vision had left the society adrift.

Into the vacuum came a resurgent Islamism. Some of the Islamists turned to extremism and violence - like the Al-Jihad group who assassinated President Sadat in 1981. But the Muslim Brotherhood took another route.

Sadat had freed many of the leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood from jail, but they were banned as a political party. So the leaders of the Brotherhood turned to building their influence through the complex social and professional organisations in Egyptian society. Brotherhood members stood for election to the syndicates and guilds of many of the leading middle-class professions - and in the 1980s they took control of the doctors, the dentists, the engineers, the pharmacists, and even the Egyptian bar - the lawyers.

At the same time the Brotherhood created a powerful system of social welfare for millions of ordinary Egyptians in villages across the country that was far more efficient and responsive than the cumbersome state welfare.

Many middle-class Egyptians began to fear a silent, creeping political coup. But the Brotherhood argued that what they were doing was openly creating the foundations for their idea of a modern society. Islam would be a total system that could manage and guide all parts of society.

Here is part of a film made about the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. It was filmed in 1992 and it is really good because it takes you into the heart of their revolution and allows them to express their utopian vision. But it is a deeply conservative sort of utopia - because the system they want to build would act as a restraint on politicians who tried to use their power to change the world. You couldn't let them do that because it always led to disaster.

I love the TV preacher who argues that society is like a TV set. God, he says, is just like the person who writes the instruction manual for a TV set.

"The rules are written by the person who creates it.

And when it goes wrong you take the product to the manufacturer. He knows how to fix it. But if you take it to someone else he screws it up."

That puts politicians in their place.

And the prizes given by the Muslim Brotherhood's newspaper for their religious quiz are great. First prize - a trip to Mecca. Second prize - a vacuum cleaner.

I have followed it with part of another documentary about how the Muslim Brotherhood took over the Lawyers Syndicate. Their opponents forcefully argue that this is a silent, creeping political coup. The two films take you to the heart of the mystery about the Muslim Brotherhood. What are they really up to?

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At the same time the Muslim Brothers' ideas - and their techniques - began to spread into the Gaza strip. And as they did so they became weirdly mixed up with the Israeli forces who were fighting against Yasser Arafat and the PLO. Out of that would come a tacit cooperation to destroy a common enemy  but it would also have very dark consequences - it would lead to both sides becoming locked together in a static world.

It happened through the rise of Hamas - who were directly inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood.

To begin with they weren't called Hamas. Back in 1973 a preacher in the Gaza Strip called Sheikh Ahmed Yassin formed an organisation called al-Mujamma al-Islami (The Islamic Centre). Yassin wanted the organisation to spread the ideas of the Muslim Brotherhood through the Palestinian world - and that also meant getting rid of the secular resistance movement and replacing it with one inspired by Islamist ideas.

Sheikh Yassin was an extraordinarily powerful character. Crippled since his childhood by a broken spine he was totally dependent on his followers to look after him, feed him and put him to bed. But he inspired those around him to believe that one day their tiny group could destroy the leftist infidels around the PLO and take control of the Palestinian movement.

 

The Mujamma did what the Muslim Brotherhood were doing in Egypt. They set up a complex system of welfare in Gaza, including kindergartens, free food and clothing. It also set up clinics offering free healthcare and medicines. They also began to take over many of the professional associations - like the Medical Association, the Engineering Association and the Bar Association.

And the Israeli authorities not only allowed them to do this - but encouraged it. They did this because they saw the conservative ideas of the Islamists as a potent force that could undermine and damage the secular Palestinian revolutionary movement.

There is a really good book about the rise of Hamas by Beverley Milton-Edwards and Stephen Farrell. In it they got a number of very senior Israelis to admit the tacit support they gave to Yassin and the Mujamma. One director military intelligence says:

"At the beginning some elements within the Israeli government - not the government, some elements within the government - were thinking that by strengthening  Mujamma they could put some more pressure on Fatah in the Gaza Strip, back in the mid eighties.

I think it was a mistake, yes."

One of the key factors in Mujamma's rise was the decision by the Israelis in 1978 to grant the organisation official status. This was something that would never have been granted to secular groups. Milton-Edwards says that this was on the orders of the office of the Prime Minister - Menachem Begin, and that former Israeli officials concede that it was part of a strategy to undermine the PLO, divide secular nationalists - and encourage them to join this more conservative alternative.

The former president of the Islamic University of Gaza says:

"They were given permission from the Israeli officials to form. The Israeli authorities kept their eyes closed to the reality of what they were allowing to be created, to the preaching of Islam that was spreading all over the Gaza strip, because at that time the PLO factions had power - and the Israelis wanted an adversary to fight them."

The Israeli military governor of Gaza, Brigadier General Segev even arranged for Sheikh Yassin to be taken to hospital in Tel Aviv to see if the best surgeons in Israel could operate on his spine. They decided they couldn't because they said the damage was too severe.

 

Bit by bit through the 1980s, with the tacit encouragement of the Israelis, Sheikh Yassin built the structure of an alternative Islamist society in Gaza. All this went unrecorded - I have searched the archives and can find nothing, all the TV reports from Palestine and Israel focus on Yasser Arafat and the PLO. Even when Hamas is formed in 1987 during the first Intifada there is nothing. The first news item about Hamas isn't until December 1992 - when they kidnap an Israeli border guard.

But to give you a sense of the world in which Yassin built Hamas, and of what Yassin is like, I want to show parts of a brilliant film made by the wonderful journalist Sean Langan. He made it in 2001 about the Gaza strip - including going to see Sheikh Yassin at his house. By now Hamas was dominant and its military wing was ordering repeated car bombings of Israeli civilians.

What I love is the way Langan gives you a real sense of the place - both the layout and the mood. It's something that news reports never do. And when he goes to see Sheikh Yassin, Langan's reactions to camera are truthful and honest - scared and silly in equal measure. So much better than the pompous self-confidence of most news reporters which increasingly feels both fake and alien.

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But there was a nasty and dark side to what Sheikh Yassin and his fellow Islamists were up to in Gaza in the 1980s. They got a reputation for violently attacking anything that supported the PLO - rather than the Israelis. Milton-Edwards writes:

"After Friday prayers burning torches were held aloft as Mujamma thugs set fire to libraries, newspaper offices, billiard halls and bars. They burned cinemas and cafes, closed liquor stores and ran intimidation campaigns in the community and on the university campus.

Men and women students were severely beaten or had acid thrown at them for speaking out against the Mujamma.

The apparent indifference of the Israeli authorities to such violence was noted by PLO supporters."

An Israeli journalist - Danny Rubinstein - says:

"Ever since, many have accused Israel of providing the raison d'etre for the Islamic religious movement - a phenomenon identical to American support for the Mujahedin in Afghanistan during the Soviet occupation."

But Yassin and the other Gaza islamists did have a sense of humour. One of their main slogans was:

AN UNCOVERED WOMAN AND BEATLE-HAIRED MEN WILL NEVER LIBERATE OUR HOLY PLACES.

And what began to rise up in Gaza was a rigid, limited world view. There is a dramatic expression of this in Sean Langan's film from the Gaza strip. Wandering along the beach he comes upon a group of young Palestinian men - everything goes swimmingly until suddenly they get onto the subject of the Jews and the holocaust.

Suddenly you discover just how much the distorted ghosts from the Nazi era have also risen up to possess the Palestinian mind as well.

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When the Intifada began, Sheikh Yassin and other leaders of Mujamma formed Hamas - and Hamas members took part in the ongoing confrontation with the Israeli forces. This was a shift away from the Muslim Brotherhood - who claimed to have renounced violence - but Hamas still saw itself as the Palestinian branch of the Brotherhood.

But Hamas also spent a lot of their time attacking the secular PLO, refusing to have strikes on the same day as the other Palestinian groups, beating up PLO prisoners who were in jail with them - and generally creating divisions within the Palestinian movement. Again the Israelis gave them preferential treatment - not cutting of the flow of funds to Hamas from abroad, and allowing them to keep their schools open. It was all part of a strategy of divide and rule.

At the same time the violence of the Intifada began to create growing divisions within Israeli society. Here are some sections from a fascinating Open Space film made in Israel at the height of the Intifada in 1988. It's made by community activists - and it is following the liberal group Peace Now who are asking for a dialogue with the Palestinians.

But it shows how there was growing opposition to that liberal view. It's actuality footage - with very little commentary - records the moment when you see the progressive optimism of the early Zionism beginning to crumble - and being replaced by a much harsher and above all defensive mood with the rise of the Israeli right. It is epitomised in a woman shouting

"Stinking Arabs - send them all to the gas chambers"

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But then Hamas went out of control.
 
The Israelis were worried about its growing strength - and in 1990 they arrested Sheikh Yassin and put him in jail. Their aim was to weaken the command structure of Hamas - but it didn't have that effect at all.

Hamas responed by inventing a "military wing" for themselves which they called the  Izz al-Din al-Qassam brigades - after Sheikh Qassam the early Islamist who had fought the British in the 1930s. And in 1992 the Qassam brigades kidnapped an Israeli border guard and threatened to kill him unless Sheikh Yassin was released from jail.

 

The Israelis refused - so Hamas killed the border guard. There was outrage in Israel - especially from the right who demanded that action be taken against Hamas. The Israeli government went and grabbed 400 of the leading members of Hamas from the Gaza Strip and the West Bank and dumped them on top of a freezing snowy mountain in the south of Lebanon.

It was a public relations disaster for Israel. Day after day news reports showed the Hamas men huddled on top of the mountain. Their organization now became a global brand - and what was worse Hamas attacks on the Israeli forces increased.

It was the beginning of the unstoppable rise of Hamas. here are some of the reports as they unfolded.

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At the heart of the Islamist ideas that Hamas was born out of was the belief that secular politicians were dangerous - above all if they used their power to try and change the world.

And in September 1993 Hamas were faced by a secular politician trying to do just that. Yasser Arafat stood on the White House lawn and signed what were called the Oslo Accords - they were agreements that were supposed to lead to peace between the Palestinians and Israel - and a Palestinian state.

 

Hamas hated it - as also did many from the secular left. They thought that Arafat was selling out the Palestinian people, that the dream of a real liberation had been reduced, as one Hamas leader said, to the dream that Palestinian policemen will have the power to direct traffic.

But Hamas' response would lead them yet again into a very strange relationship with forces in Israel - in particular with the Israeli right who also hated and distrusted the peace process.

Hamas's problem was that many palestinians welcomed the idea of peace - and the promise of safety and calm it promised. But on the 25th February 1994 their chance came to change things. A right-wing Israeli extremist opened fire on Palestinian civilians in a mosque in Hebron. 29 were killed and 125 injured. Hamas promised revenge.

Forty days later - the traditional time of mourning - a Hamas suicide bomber blew up a car bomb in an Israeli town called Afula, killing eight people and wounding many more. Hamas had chosen the town specifically. It had been founded back in 1925 by The American Zion Commonwealth who were an American company set up to try and build model utopian communities that would make the Zionist dream come true.

 

Afula had been one of these utopian models - built on land bought off an absentee Palestinian landowner. Now it's heart was torn out by a suicide bomber - and it shocked Israel. Hamas was now exploding suicide bombs in Israel with the deliberate aim of killing Israeli civilians. And they followed it up with more - including one in the heart of Tel Aviv.

Here are the reports of the Afula and Tel Aviv bombs. They show the shock and fear that was now gripping Israeli society. And note the politician who turns up at the end of the Tel Aviv report - Benjamin Netanyahu - he says that Rabin's concessions in the peace process have led to this.

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Hamas insisted that there was a perfect logic behind the civilian killings - Sheikh Yassin gave interviews saying that if they kill our civilians, then we'll kill theirs. But everyone knew that the real aim was to stop the peace process - to undermine the negotiations between Arafat and Israel.

Then in 1996 there were elections in Israel. The Prime Minister was Shimon Peres who was a veteran of the left-wing Labour Zionist movement. His opponent was the star of the newly rising right in Israel - the leader of the Likud party, Benjamin Netanyahu. He was an opponent of the peace process.

Hamas intensified their suicide bombing campaign. They claimed it was in response for the killing of their best bomb maker - called The Engineer. But in March 1996 Palestinian TV broadcast an interview with a jailed Hamas member who had been organising the bombings.

He was called Abu Warda - and he claimed in the interview that the leaders of Hamas' military wing had told him that the aim of the bombings was to make sure that Peres was defeated, and Netanyahu was elected.

"They thought that the military operations would work to the benefit of the Likud and against the left. They wanted to destroy the political process, and they thought that, if the right succeeded, the political process would stop."

Everyone was furious and all sides - Likud, Fatah, and Hamas said that Abu Warda had been forced to lie. And each blamed the other for doing it. But Netanyahu then went on to win the election by a narrow margin - and he started to do everything he could to drag his feet on the peace process.

And since then Hamas and the Israeli right have been locked together in a terrible cycle in which both shift back and forth between politics and violence in order to promote their aims. Last week's flare up in the Gaza strip was just another example of that cycle.

And at their heart those aims are deeply conservative. Both Hamas and the Israeli right are rooted in defensive ideologies that distrust change and are seeped in a deep pessimism about the ability of politics and politicians to change the world for the better. To try and prevent change both groups have increasingly turned to violence to stop things from running away from them. But it is growing increasingly desperate - because it is impossible to stop the world from changing and the growing addiction to using violence to stop change has corrupted both sides ideals.

But it cannot last. In Egypt, the new President - Mohammed Morsi was elected as a leading member of the Muslim Brotherhood. Yet this week he started acting in the very way the Islamists fear most. He used his political position to ride roughshod over democracy - grabbing power for himself.

 

In the 1950s Nasser used his power to try and enforce his vision of a progressive, planned world. Now Morsi is doing the same - to try and enforce his vision of a deeply conservative, rigid world.

Again it will fail because it is impossible to control the world in that way - either for progressive or conservative aims. What is badly needed in the Middle East - and in the West - is a new, sophisticated politics that accepts the dynamic forces of history, yet tries to seize them and use the chaotic events of this incredibly exciting time we are living through to try and change the world for the better.

01 Dec 01:56

Ada Hoffmann on Autistic Characters and the “Neurotypical Gaze”

by Jim C. Hines

Rose Lemberg pointed me to this post by Ada Hoffmann: Note to people thinking of writing autistic characters.

“If you write a story where your character has no character traits except for impairments and behavioural issues, and where they take no actions not related to these issues (or to someone’s desire to “cure” them), you are presenting a distorted and objectified picture of autism. This goes double if you are writing from the autistic character’s point of view.”

Personally, I think it’s worth reading even if you’re not a writer and have no intention of ever writing an autistic character.

There’s a part of me that wants to write a much longer blog post here, talking about my son, about the character of Nicola Pallas in Libriomancer, about the need to listen when people tell you you’re portraying people like them in a one-dimensional way. But I worry that doing so would pull attention from Hoffmann’s piece, when my goal was to divert attention to that piece.

I’ll probably write that post one of these days. But for now, go. Read. Think. And write better.*


*”Write better” is advice I’d give to everyone, myself included, and wasn’t meant to suggest that you’re a bad writer.**
**Disclaimer written to try to avoid hurt feelings, and because footnotes are cool.

01 Dec 01:07

Elektra: Assassin

by Lawrence Burton


Frank Miller & Bill Sienkiewicz Elektra: Assassin (1987)

By the time I made it to art college, 2000AD had turned a bit shit thanks to dross like The Mean Arena and Meltdown Man, so I packed it in on the grounds of my subscription having become a financial extravagance and a possible hindrance to the likelihood of my enjoying sexual intercourse with nude ladies. I soon realised that, regardless of whether or not I read comics, no nude art college lady was particularly likely to jump my bones mainly because I had the wrong haircut - actually the haircut later popularised by members of Nirvana - so I thought fuck it, and went back to the comics again.

This was partially the fault of Charlie Adlard, then making Super 8mm zombie films as part of the same course. He'd given me a lift home and we stopped off at Sainsbury's for a pint of milk when I noticed an X-Men comic in the magazine department - Uncanny X-Men #211 for the benefit of anyone to whom such things might be important. I bought it out of rampant curiosity, having lost touch with the X-Men roughly when I was eight. Charlie filled me in on what had been happening at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in my absence, happily without recourse to any of that shit about comics growing up or whatever. I responded well to Chris Claremont's Mutant Massacre saga, so Charlie wrote me a prescription for Watchmen, The Dark Knight, and Elektra: Assassin, thus introducing me to the astonishing artwork of Bill Sienkiewicz.

Back before Frank Miller found himself forced into reincarnating as Ted Nugent by the commie pantywaistery of freedom-hating pinko liberals like myself and almost everyone I know, he wrote some pretty snappy comic books, and I'd argue the case for Elektra: Assassin being the snappiest. It was produced very much as a collaboration, the definitive and final scripts drawn up in response to what the artist had done for earlier drafts - Sienkiewicz's art being so distinctive, so powerful, that a script failing to acknowledge whatever had started happening on the page since Bill got to work with his crayon would inevitably look out of step.

All the weird effects that have been employed in comic book art since the 1980s, photocopies and objects taped or even bolted onto the page, panels looking to Gustav Klimt or abstract expressionism rather than Jack Kirby - I'm hazy on the precise details of who did what first, but I never saw anything of the kind before Bill Sienkiewicz embarked upon the experiments that were to provide Dave McKean with his entire career. Elektra: Assassin is neither deep nor particularly profound, a basic action thriller, well told with all sorts of big grisly ideas and psychological touches; and elevated to the status of Art with a capital A by the means of its telling. For those who need it, there's probably a message about corrupt politicians and the advent of spin, although with hindsight there's something a little bothersome about the villain being an evil and conspicuously liberal presidential candidate, what with Miller recently denouncing Adolf Hitler as a mommy's boy bleeding heart faggot and all.

Still, best to remember him when he wasn't a reactionary old tosser, when he worked in tandem with true genius to produce stuff like this. Elektra: Assassin is probably one of the greatest things Marvel ever did.
01 Dec 01:05

Damn, It’s a Good Thing I Don’t Have to Be Creative This Week

by John Scalzi
Andrew Hickey

That's me for the last couple of weeks, too...

Because I swear to God the entire week has gone like this:

Me (sitting down to keyboard): Okay! Time to write something interesting and amusing.

Brain: SHUT UP AND FEED ME.

Me: I totally just fed you fifteen minutes ago. We had a fruit snack.

Brain: FRUIT SNACK NOT REAL FOOD. IT’S HUMILIATED GELATIN.

Me: Look, Brain, I have work to do.

Brain: NO FOOD NO BRAIN.

Me: I think I’ve been overeating in general this week.

Abdomen: It’s cool. I’m storing it as fat! See?

Me: Swell. Okay, seriously, brain –

Brain: FEED ME OR I WILL WAKE YOU UP AT 3 AM WITH UNCEASING THOUGHTS OF YOUR INEVITABLE DEATH.

Me (gets up to get a cookie): There. Happy?

Brain: I AM HAPPY NOW.

Me: Good. Then maybe we can get to –

Brain: SHUT UP AND FEED ME.

So. Yeah. That’s me this week. Hi.

Over to you, then. What’s going on with you? Tell me as I go get another snack.


01 Dec 00:34

Norman Lamb on the need to improve mental health services

by Jonathan Calder
Speaking at the 'Psychological Therapies in the NHS 2012' conference in London yesterday, the Lib Dem health minister Norman Lamb pledged himself to work to end the "institutional disadvantage  under which mental health labours among other health and care services,”

Norman said he has asked officials to look at whether the exemption of mental health from NHS rules on choice can be removed:

"It seems to me that if any group of patients can benefit from being empowered by being able to choose their provider or which therapy they would like, then it is people with mental ill health."

He also said that officials are exploring the possibility of payment by results in both adult and child mental health services:

"If that project blossoms as we hope it might, then it will transform the commissioning process in a way we simply haven’t seen before. “It will push up standards throughout the system and encourage innovation, invention and inspiration."

Someone who heard Norman's speech told me that there was not a great deal new in it, but his obvious commitment to improving mental health services was impressive.
30 Nov 14:27

Party like it’s 1977

by noreply@blogger.com (Simon Titley)
Yesterday’s three by-elections are a return to the sort of results the Liberals suffered in the late 1970s, during the Lib-Lab Pact and the Thorpe affair.

The third place ahead of the Tories in Middlesborough shows, as in Manchester Central last week, that effective local campaigning can limit the damage. But the lost deposits in Croydon North and Rotherham show that local campaigning is not sufficient to withstand a nationwide electoral tsunami. The 8th place in Rotherham is particularly dire, worse than anything the Liberals achieved in the late 1970s.

The Liberal Democrats, as a party of government, can no longer attract the sort of protest votes that are now benefitting UKIP and other minor parties. What these by-elections have revealed, yet again, is the party’s fundamental weakness, the lack of a core vote.

I analysed this problem in an article in Liberator 347 (August 2011). Yesterday’s by-election results, together with the continuing poor opinion poll ratings, have only confirmed this view. They also confirm that the electoral strategy invented by Richard Reeves and promoted by Nick Clegg – that the Liberal Democrats’ target vote is ‘Alarm Clock Britain’ – is complete and utter bollocks.

POSTSCRIPT (1): Simon Hughes, interviewed on Radio 4’s World at One today [zap forward to 16:17], attributes the Liberal Democrats’ dismal results to the three constituencies being “safe Labour territory” and to that old chestnut, the mid-term blues (“the two governing parties suffered, as they often do in the middle of a parliament...”).

POSTSCRIPT (2): Peter Chegwyn, Liberal agent in the 1976 Rotherham by-election, reminds me that, despite ‘mid-term blues’ and the Jeremy Thorpe scandal in full swing (Thorpe had resigned as party leader only a month before the by-election), the Liberal Party still finished 3rd and kept the National Front in 4th place. Peter was also agent in the 1981 by-election in Croydon North-West, which the Liberals famously won. He wonders how the Liberal Democrats managed to win only 3.5% of the vote in Croydon North, as more than half the constituency used to be in the old Croydon North-West.
30 Nov 14:15

Day 4290: DOCTOR WHO: The Angels Take the St Michael

by Millennium Dome
Saturday (flashback bonus):


In their own way, the Angels are like history: they look fixed, but that's only our perception.

The opening of "The Angels Take Manhattan" is narrated, in character, in film noir style, by "private dick" Sam Garner. But the fingers we see typing his voiceover are manicured with scarlet nail varnish, which Mr Garner is not otherwise seen to wear. This is a first allusion to the writer's power.

In the Moffat-verse, it seems, history is contingent, memory unreliable, time itself as he keeps endlessly saying can be rewritten. But once it's written down it is sacred.


In an odd way, it's like the flip-side of "Logopolis": there, the ability of "living minds" to perform Block Transfer computation – to make TARDISes work, to Time Travel even – depends on a certain flexibility. A computer would be altered by the process as it made the calculation; the implication is that it would suffer a critical paradox. And thus the link from Russell's Paradox to Existential Mathematics is made via the Turing Test.

Does Moffat see the structure of time, that big ball of timey-wimey stuff, in similar fashion? Is it that same flexibility of perception that allows you to alter the past that you think you know, while the written record, like the "computer mind" with "absolute knowledge", is fixed and invariant? Is this, essentially, the central paradox of writing: the ability to know something is fiction and still true?

When they were first introduced in "Blink" the Angels were specific, living creatures that turned to stone when you looked at them. In "The Time of Angels" we heard that they were actually living ideas, idea-shaped holes in the continuum that we just perceived as statues – and in return, anything that we perceived as an Angel could become one. Now, they seem to have evolved again, into, it would seem, ideas that choose to occupy statues, any statue (and not just stone ones, as the enormous metal lady from Liberty Island attests). River certainly seems to say that the Angels have "occupied" every statue in 1938 New York.

And possibly the more powerful the idea – or the more "time energy" it has fed on – the larger the statue it is able to occupy, hence the "baby Angels" using smaller cherub bodies… and you need a really big Angel, who's had all the energy of the Winter Quay battery farm to feed on, to occupy Lady Liberty.

We're left with the same puzzles: do the statues actually move – as we saw them start to in "Flesh and Stone", and as the thunderous "Statue of Liberty sized Grandmother's footsteps" imply – or is it just the idea that moves, incredibly quickly, so that when we look again we perceive the statue in a different place. That is, not that the atoms and molecules of the statues actually translate from place to place, but that the way we perceive the arrangement of those atoms changes, the original statue ceasing to have any meaningful pattern, and a whole new statue being created from different atoms just by how we perceive their (usually much closer to us) arrangement.

This might also explain how they displace you in time: it's not the physical atoms of your body that get sent back, only your conscious mind. Your perception of yourself includes your body around you, so naturally you perceive the atoms at your arrival point as a you-shaped body. The "you-shaped arrangement of atoms" at this end ceases to have any perceptual meaning as a person, and that – if you like – is where the Angels get their conceptual dinner from.

Alternatively, adding information – i.e. you – to an earlier time zone is the same as adding entropy to the Universe: almost whatever you do will interact chaotically with your foreknowledge of events, making the Universe more random, which is the definition of entropy. The trade-off, so that the Universe remains consistent, is a sharp decrease in entropy of the Angel at the same time as an increase in entropy of everything else.

Or possibly it's all a load of nonsense.

The thing about entropy and the Second Law of Thermodynamics, as explored extensively in "Logopolis" and summarised as "things fall apart", is that most people react to it with denial or horror. The Master himself reacts this way – "Horrible! Horrible!" – on seeing the leader of the Logopolitans, the Monitor, reduced to a drifting ember by the entropy wave, and this from a man who shrinks people to death for a living. Underlying "The Angels Take Manhattan" is a clear horror of ageing.

Of course, there's always been something of that about the Angels, the fear of your life being snatched away by time: literally "Blink" and you miss it. From that point of view, they're the world's fastest ever zombies. But this time it's really hammered home, from Mr Grayle with his collection of old things to River's philosophy of her relationship:

"Never let him see the damage," she says, and she refers to the Doctor as an "ageless god who insists on wearing the face of a twelve-year-old".

It's not really strong enough to be a proper satire on our youth-obsessed culture, but it certainly looks like it's playing on Mr Moffat's personal demons.

But it's the institutionalisation of old age that is particularly Moffat's fear, as we see all the Angels' victims trapped into living out their days in an old folks' home from Hell.

A better writer than Steven Moffat – yes, I know about all the awards – is Charles Dickens, and we recently watched a modern-day take on his third novel, "Nicholas Nickleby". As Alex pointed out at the time, it's one of the best adaptations of Dickens we've seen because it got past the "look at the gorgeous frocks"-ness that so overwhelms such rightly-acclaimed recent Dickens as "Bleak House" and "Great Expectations" and gets down to the brass tacks of what Dickens was writing about: a sharply direct critique of the society he was living in.

Adapted by Joy Wilkinson, she recognises, like Moffat's own take on Conan Doyle, that Dickens was writing a contemporary drama, not a period piece.

So, "Nick Nickleby" based on "The Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby" is set in 2012 and addresses itself to a contemporary concern: old age care. "Dotheboys Hall" becomes "Dotheolds Care Home"; Nick's companion, the simple Smike, becomes traumatised old lady Mrs Smike; wicked uncle Ralph and the infamous Wackford Squeers profiteer from the mistreatment of the abandoned elderly rather than unwanted offspring; and so on. All very broad brush, I'm sure you'll agree, but actually the kind of sharp social satire that Doctor Who ought to do from time to time (whether in "The Green Death" or "Bad Wolf").

The point is that it's actually making a point; it's not just taking something that scares the Mister Moffster – being the child left out in the cold, the monsters under the bed, and now, getting old – and using it to add a frisson of feeling to the clever mechanics of the plot.

Well, to a certain value of "clever".

Over the many deaths of Rory Pond, I've been increasingly reminded of, ironically, his first time, during the encounter with the Dream Lord in "Amy's Choice" (a lot of that referenced in "The Angels take Manhattan" as well – Amy twice more not willing to live in a world where Rory is dead). Most pertinent is this particular exchange:

The Dream Lord: You die in the dream, you wake up in reality. Ask me what happens if you die in reality.

Rory Williams: What happens?

The Dream Lord: You die, stupid. That's why it's called "reality".

Tossing in post-modern references to the Rory's many returns from the dead ("When don't I?") doesn't actually excuse the fact that each time you do it you're basically writing "It's a dream, it's a dream, it was all a dream" all over your script like you're a five-year-old who's never been told what a crushingly banal cliché that is.

Why do they so-conveniently wake up back in 2012?

The Doctor says it would take "incredible power" to create a paradox enough to destroy this timeline and set them all free. Or, apparently, jumping off a building five minutes later.

(And it's not like the Angels couldn't save the Ponds from falling. They've got wings haven't they? Or that big Lady with the Torch could just catch them.)

Why not wake up Captain Jack-like on the sidewalk in front of Winter Quay. Still in 1938 (i.e. you can't get killed because it would be a paradox, but you don't escape from the Angels that easily. An outcome that could save Rory but leave Amy dead, actually, and then he surrenders to the Angels and lives out his life in Winter Quay as ordained.)

Ultimately we're left with Moffat as the boy who cried (Bad) Wolf, protesting "no, this time I really, really mean it!" after an episode full of even his own characters saying "yeah, I always come back from the dead". Why should we invest in this instance? What have you done to convince us that this time it's different?

We're supposed to believe that once it's "written in stone" it is impossible to save Rory. And yet the very next thing that Amy does is change what is literally written in stone.

How exactly is the Doctor prevented from ever seeing his friends again?

Yes, I get that something about 1938 makes it difficult to land the TARDIS in that time and place, and that the paradox used to defeat the Angels increases that to "impossible" but... what's to stop him landing in 1932 and just living the difference? Or in Boston in 1938 and just taking the train? He could, quite literally, get there before them and be waiting to rescue the Ponds with no time wasted (from their point of view).

But that isn't really the problem.

Actually, there is a question of whether they're in 1938 at all.

The evidence for just how far back you are sent is, obviously, just as contradictory, with both "Blink" and "Angels take Manhattan" supplying examples that they send you back by the exact amount of life you have left to live (Billy Shipton and P.I. Sam Garner are both seen to expire within minutes of the moment when their younger self is touched) or that a given Angel sends you back to a given point in time (Billy arrives in 1969, the same year as the Doctor and Martha were displaced to; everything points to Amy arriving in the same year as Rory).

So could Rory and Amy get sent back fifty years (based on Rory's age: 82 on his gravestone and 31 in "Dinosaurs on a Spaceship") not to 1938 but probably the early sixties? Well, in fact no, not if we take into account "P.S." which reveals that they adopted a son, Anthony, in 1946.

But let's be fair: the Doctor doesn't say that he can't get to when Amy and Rory are (whenever that is). What he says is that one more paradox will tear a whole in the fabric of time and drop New York right through it. It's not that he cannot get there, but that he must not.

Except, except, except... even this is just a different spin on "The Impossible Astronaut", a "fixed point" in time that depends on what we think we've seen, but like the conjuror's art, could be a case of misdirection, something the Doctor himself could do just by "popping back in time" and commissioning that headstone himself – a variation on his Tesselector "you only thought you saw me die" gambit.

It would not establish a paradox for the Doctor to find and collect Amy and Rory from the relative past. It would not change anything that he personally knew.

(Ironically, if the Doctor had met Anthony then there would be a paradox in rescuing Amy and Rory because it would contradict the implied history of bringing up their adopted son.)

Basically, you do not get points for cleverness for beating the rules of time travel if you made the rules up in the first place, you're changing them all the time and you won't tell us what they are anyway.

That's why "The Impossible Astronaut" feels like a cheat and this feels like a cop-out.


I have to confess, the prospect of reviewing "The Angels Take Manhattan" did not fill me with overwhelming joy.

It's beautifully filmed, contrasting the sunlit Central Park with the noir-toned nights in 1938 and the overcast graveyard in Queens where the Ponds final resting place catches up with them.

The film noir theme works very nicely. Alex, who loves a film noir, was particularly pleased to see an effective evocation of the era and the appearance of Forties films. He also praised the decision to use River as the hard-boiled gumshoe and not as the more obvious femme fatale. With the Angels present, the story had quite enough femmes fatale anyway.

And Mike McShane's Mr Grayle (film noir reference "Farewell My Lovely") is an interesting stooge, his relationship with the Angels slightly ambivalent – the opening sequence could be read as him feeding private detectives to the Angels' battery farm; and he knows enough about their M.O. to place River literally within one's grasp.

Matt Smith and Alex Kingston are as top-notch as ever. He gets to wear the "brainy specs" by stealing Amy's reading glasses. She gets to spell out what we've mostly already guessed this year: that he's erased himself from every database in creation (annulling her prison sentence into the bargain). In spite of this being "Professor" River Song, she's not as smug and unlikeable as she appeared back in "Silence in the Library", perhaps because she can now be more honest with us about who and what she is but I suspect largely because Alex Kingston has more control of the role now, and her relationship with Rory is rather sweet in the brief scene they get together when we first discover who Melody Malone really is.

Murray Gold does everything he can to yank on your heart-strings. It's too much really; I don't need the music to be forcing me to feel the emotion. I remember back in 2005, Christopher Eccleston could break your heart with a single glance and it was all the more moving because he did it in absolute silence. But some of the references to Amy's theme – and there are many – are quite poignant, for example the long moment as the Ponds fall, Amy's hair streams up around her and I wonder if it's not a visual and musical reference to the first scene of "The Beast Below" where she floats in space with her hair floating about her.

But it's so... predictable.

Apart from the whimsical introduction of the "cherub" Angels, and the monstrous error of the Statue of Liberty (I mean seriously? ) what does this actually add that "Blink" didn't already do? Grandmother's Footsteps with live (if Timey-Wimey) ammo, defeated by a paradox (this time a Grandfather Paradox rather than an Ontological Paradox, but they're both classics!). All it needed was the addition of a scene where the lost Ponds' offspring deliver a letter to the as-yet-unaware Brian... oh, wait... Here comes Mr Chibnall to prove he can run the photocopier over a Moffat script with as much aplomb as he can ape an RTD episode.

Why would the "Lonely Assassins" even want an army? Given that their Achilles Heel in "Blink" was what happened if they were caught looking at each other, is it entirely wise to have filled the statues of an entire city with Angels? In particular one really, really big one? Surely she paralyses half the Angels in the Big Apple whenever she decides to saunter over to Winter Quay. And with her staring at that roof, with her big snarly face, no other Angel can sneak up behind you, making that surely the safest place in New York!

It was a good send-off to give the Ponds, but it was way past time for them to have gone. One of them long-suffering and exasperated with all things Who, the other Scottish, spikey, smart and very occasionally incredibly selfish... but enough about Sue Virtue and Steven Moffat, Amy and Rory have been the longest-serving companions of the recent Who era, and yet it's still incredibly hard to say we really know them, what with their secrets and altered histories and all. And such a shame that, at the end, Moffat undoes all the good he did by keeping Mrs Pond a Pond, finally subsuming her to the identity of her "man".

Time for something fresh and, in the form of Jenna Louise Coleman, engaging and cheeky. And let the Ponds go to their Big Sleep at last.

Next Time... It's Christmas and what could be more Christmassy than Moffat the Grinch pinching another Christmas favourite. Never mind Aled Jones, the Doctor is walking in the air and Kim Newman's wintery "Time and Relative" is the next book to look suspiciously familiar when we face a not-so lick-the-mirror-gorgeous Richard E Grant and "The Snowmen".



30 Nov 11:27

Two Years

She won the first half of all our chemo Scrabble games, but then her IV drugs started kicking in and I *dominated*.
30 Nov 09:22

Many Happy Returns

by Big Finish Productions

A special feature-length charity adventure celebrating twenty years of archaeologist and adventurer Bernice Summerfield! Written by Xanna Eve Chown, Stephen Cole, Paul Cornell, Stephen Fewell, Simon Guerrier, Scott Handcock, Rebecca Levene, Jacqueline Rayner, Justin Richards, Miles Richardson, Eddie Robson and Dave Stone.

All involved gave their time for free, and all proceeds go to the charity ...

30 Nov 09:22

Hey?

by Michael Leddy
In Bloomberg usinessweek, an article on the Obama campaign’s e-mail strategy:
“The subject lines that worked best were things you might see in your in-box from other people. . . . ‘Hey’ was probably the best one we had over the duration.”
All I can say is that it’s a good thing I wasn’t directing the campaign’s e-mail effort.

Related posts, from the 2008 campaign
Campaign e-mail etiquette
Campaign e-mails (again)
Obama e-mail improvement
You’re reading a post from Michael Leddy’s blog Orange Crate Art. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons 3.0 License.
30 Nov 09:20

Debi Watches Arrow (sydht!) 1.07: Muse of Fire

Ladies and Gentlemen , it’s the HUNTRESS EPISODE! Hooray!

All I wanted from this episode was for Helena and Laurel to be on the screen at the same time. All L wanted was for them to make out. Denied that, she said she would settle for a bare midriff.

Whups, I should start from the beginning, shouldn’t I?

BTW, the title is from a speech in Henry V. I’m not a particularly diligent Shakespearean scholar, so I don’t know the significance. Anyone wanna fill me in?

The beginning is getting boring now: the initial voiceover is now the same as previous episodes and I no longer care. Stranded on an island, blah blah, VENGEANCE, blah.

Ollie is on a motorbike, driving around, bein’ Ollie Queen, when Thea calls him to remind him he has a lunch date with his Mom. (Thea is in her school uniform and at Queen Manor, which makes me wonder what time it is that she’s calling him to remind him about lunch. Maybe she came all the way home for her own lunch? Maybe she had a half day today? I think about these things! L believes that the school uniform is specifically there to make her, L, happy, and who am I to disagree?) Ollie resents being harangued by these women for quality time. Do they think he’s their long-lost son/brother miraculously returned from the dead or something? GAWSH.

He bikes over to Queen Consolidated, where Moira is coming out of the building being pressed by a man in a natty suit over a ‘proposal’ she has rejected, for reasons she thinks should be obvious. Natty suit man’s name is Mr. Capone. I WONDER WHAT BUSINESS HE COULD BE IN?

Just as Ollie waves ‘hello,’ another motorcycle turns up, this one being ridden by a person in all black leathers and a face concealing helmet.  The biker pulls a gun, Ollie yells a warning, but it’s too late. Mr Capone is shot dead and Moira falls with him.

The Rule of Motorcycles:( which I’m sure has been codified on TV Tropes, but which I first heard pre-TV Tropes from my dad) When a person is seen riding a motorcycle, wearing figure-hiding black leathers and a face-covering helmet, that person is always later revealed to be a woman. This is true for Midsomer Murders, for Capital Scandal, and for every single other occurrence of a mysterious motorcyclist I’ve ever seen. Could it be true of Arrow? Only time will tell!

Ollie checks on Moira long enough for her to struggle to sit up and give some maternal “I’m fine!” platitudes. then he yells CALL 911 to the building Security and runs off after the biker-assassin. Runs. On foot. He even manages to keep pace with the bike for a good few minutes, throwing a metal rod at the wheel before a truck cuts him off. Curse that truck! If it hadn’t got in the way, Ollie’s magic running feet would easily have chased down a motorbike!

Ollie gets to the hospital after Thea has already arrived from home, been filled in, and tried and failed to reach Walter in Melbourne. Moira has a grade 2 concussion, and is ready to be discharged as long as someone stays with her to monitor her well being. She’s certainly not too injured to tell Ollie he was an idiot for running after the motorcycle. And Thea is even more annoyed with him for leaving his mother alone in the street while he tries to be a hero. Ollie says he went to get a licence plate, and Thea is having none of his lies.

In the hospital corridor, Ollie runs into Quentin and Quentin’s partner (at this point I feel that looking on IMDB for this guy’s name would be cheating). Ollie informs them that Diggle (his ‘head of security,’ although I still think that someone ought to let Diggle hire some security to be head of) is on his way, but can he have some policemen to guard his mother?

Um, no, says Diggle. Capone was ‘mobbed-up-to-the-eyeballs connected,’ he explains. Moira wasn’t teh target. Ollie flounces off without saying anything else.

I just want it on record that Katie Cassidy clearly dressed for the lesbians today in her tiny little short shorts and her silhouette perfecting bra. Laurel’s working late, and Tommy shows up carrying take out sushi, at exactly the same time as her pizza delivery. They discuss the contents of both orders and sushi wins, the bag being torn open hungrily by Laurel.

Note for Non-Comics Readers: Dinah Lance loves good food. Oh boy, does she love good food. I don’t usually comic scans into my Arrow posts but this deserves it:

Birds of Prey vol 1 #55

Tommy is here to ask Laurel out. Because having Laurel actually involved in plot these days is so episodes 1 through 5. Now she has to be an object for Tommy to pursue! I have spent the last few episodes narrow-eying Tommy and demanding to know what his game is. It turns out, it might just be to date Laurel. It’s just that his lines are so freaking corny.

Oliver deals with the frustration of having his mother shot at by hiding out in the Arrow cave, being shirtless and beating up a dummy. Diggle, who is also in the Arrow Cave, and not watching over Moira, suggests a day off with his family might be in order, but this is how Oliver Queen deals with things, dammit! Well, beating stuff up and Googling. He explains to Diggle that Capone works for Bertinelli construction, run by the mob boss Frank Bertinelli. Apparently Capone wasn’t the first of the crew to be hit, so Ollie has the great idea of going undercover in the mob to find out what’s going on.

Um, says Diggle, ever the voice of reason and why the hell aren’t I getting a Diggle show?

“Your mother is shot at, nearly killed, and the way you process this emotionally is to go undercover with the mob.”

“I’m not trying to process this emotionally.”

“Maybe that’s your problem, man.”

Diggle suggests being their for his family might be a good idea. Ollie dismisses this thought as ridiculous, because he’s no good at being there for anyone. I suggest to the screen that maybe if you’re not good at being there for the people who need you, then you might want to get some practice. But no! Running off after the ‘mob assassinations’ tangent is a much better idea, says Ollie!

“When I find out who this guy is,” he says, “he’s a dead man.”

GOSH. What a subtle way of highlighting gender assumptions, writers! Because now we’re back with the biker, who may or may not have been biking around evening, and has now arrived at a garage. Where the biker has a pinboard of photographs, some of which have big Xs drawn through them in Sharpie! Out comes the Sharpie, and a big X is drawn on Capone’s face!

L and I agree this is amateur work, because it doesn’t have red string arbitrarily making lines between the photos.

Anyway, off comes the helmet and SURPRISE.

It’s a woman!

NNCR: Alright, it might as well go here. This is Helena Bertinelli, who was the Huntress in DC comics during the 90s and 2000′s. The daughter of mafia boss Franco Bertinelli, Helena was a child when her entire family was killed in front of her. She grew up to become Huntress, starting her heroism career by killing the heads of the families that had her killed. She starred in a few Batman minis, and really came into her own in Gail Simone’s run on Birds of Prey, alongside Dinah Lance.

As Arrow only likes putting its men in ridiculous costumes, we’re going to have to improvise a little.

 

Thea is off out clubbing, but she is ambushed in the hall by Ollie, who tells her he has a Very Important Thing and she has to stay home and watch their concussed mother, sorry. They are interrupted by Tommy, who lets himself in the front door to talk to Ollie.  Hey bro – firstly, your Mom okay? Good. Secondly, is it cool if I date your ex? Because I kind of already asked her out? Yes? Great, see ya!

“If you hurt her I’ll snap your neck,” says Ollie, which seems fair.

Thea and Moira hang out in Moira’s bedroom, watching TV and discussing Ollie’s douchebaggery. Moira asks Thea not to be too harsh on him. They both know he’s lying to them, but Moira takes the opinion that everyone has their secrets, and besides, he has Post Island Stress Disorder, and maybe the ladies in his life just have to be patient with him.

Moira is shaping up to be a great Mom, really.

Ollie’s Very Important Thing is going over to the Bertinellis’ mansion to discuss business, the business in question being the Applied Sciences contract from a few epsiodes ago. 

Frank – who (shock! Intrigue!) is recognizable as the biggest face on Huntress’ pinboard – introduces Ollie to “Nick Salvati, my associate,” and I wonder if ‘associate’ ever means anything that isn’t ‘he kills people for me.’ Salvati is being played by Tahmoh Penikett, prompting L to squeal “It’s Helo, it’s Helo!” And from then on in our heads such is he named.

As Ollie stands in the entrance hall, Helena walks across the upper level, and their eyes meet briefly. With music.

Later, Frank introduces her to Ollie, and we see that she is wearing an absolutely stunning dress in purple with a large silver crucifix.

NNCR: This is an obvious homage to Huntress’ costume. Helena is Catholic and her faith plays a huge part of her character. This is just one of the reasons I ship her with Renee Montoya, the Question.

There’s an awkward “I’m heading out,” “Take a goon,” “I can take care of myself,” moment between father and daughter, made all the more awkward by the creepily intense stare Ollie is giving her. (Seriously creepy you guys. I can’t even.) But it’s interrupted by Helo telling Frank that ‘that meeting he requested’ is happening right now this instant. So he’s got to skedaddle.

But on his way out, he tells Helena to take Oliver out for dinner, because um, that’s how rich people do business? I don’t know, and both Ollie  and Helena thinks it’s weird too. But to dinner they go! But not before Ollie pulls his very best -_- face. Which I failed to cap, sorry.

The meeting it turns out, is with China White, who is reduced to acting as a translator for another Triad member, who simply say they’re not to blame for all of his people who have died recently thank you very much goodbye.

It’s interesting how the show feels perfectly comfortable with having the Triad and Bratva appear and be   specifically named, but Franco Bertinelli becomes Frank, and the ‘mob’ in this episode never gets called the mafia, despite the comics being very explicit on that front, and TV!Helena speaking Italian.

If it’s not the Triad, then Bertinelli wants to find out who, and make them pay. This is being recorded by a bug and feeding right back to Quentin and partner, who are distinctly worried this might end in a gang war in Starling City. We never saw the bug being placed, and I don’t think it’s ever mentioned again in this episode. It’s just there.

They mention that Bertinelli is about to start extorting more money out of the people who pay them protection money, but I’m not sure how they got to that conclusion. Sssssh, don’t question exposition scenes. Quentin doubts that the killings are mob related, as the shootings have been haphazard with plenty of misses. Amateur, basically. Still, if they don’t stop it, they’re looking at a mob war.

Ollie and Helena have gone to dinner at an Italian restaurant, where Helena gets special attention from the proprietor because of her father. Helena joins the long long line of people this episode to ask after Moira, in what’s actually quite a subtle writerly dig at how Ollie is here and not there with his concussed mother. They are awkward and stiff and Helena dives straight into asking about the Island because why not?

She wants to know if he ever felt relief to be away from the ties and responsibilities of the World. It’s obvious that Helena feels restricted by her place in life and disapproves of her father’s way of doing things. Ollie says that yes, some days he felt free and those were the best times of the five years. they start bonding over feeling restricted by familial expectations.

But Ollie and Helena aren’t the only couple having dinner! Laurel has dragged Tommy out to curry, and he turns out to be a wuss when it comes to spices. Tommy breaks out the smarm again and says that he wishes he could date Laurel from the beginning. Colin Donnell is playing this pretty well: I’m buying this as sincere. Even though as a plotline this ‘set up Tommy and Laurel’ arc to be pointless, I am beginning to think they’re cute together. But Katie Cassidy is always cute.

But then the waiter returns with Tommy’s credit card, saying it has been declined. Oh no!

The Italian place has closed, but Ollie and Helena are still sitting and talking. Ollie is saying that he gives people the answers they expect when they talk about the island, because he doesn’t know how truthful he can be. Helena is listening intently to him, and calls what he’s been through a ‘crucible’ that changed him.

He finally asked about the crucifix and she explains it was a gift from her fiance, whose death was her own crucible.  Basically, they’re bonding over traumatic experiences.

“It’s nice to be with someone I can be myself with,” says Ollie.

Talking of which, Diggle then calls him up., telling him that he has to get moving because ‘something’s come up.’ Ollie makes his excuses and leaves, but not before Helena tells him to be careful with her father.

Moira is still in bed, reading when there is a knock on her bedroom door. It’s John Barrowman, at this time of night, come to intimidate and threaten her, because apparently he’s got experience with people having near death experiences and bailing on his sinister plans straight after. So he wanted to check Moira was still on board. We also find out that John Barrowman, Moira and Robert were friends for a long time before the accident.

On the phone to Ollie, Diggle explains that the something that came up was Bertinelli’s enforcers going after everyone who owes them money. Ollie would like to know what that has to do with getting revenge for his mother, and Diggle implies that maybe saving lives could be on the agenda tonight? You know, justice, not revenge?  He drops the name “Russo’s” as the next target. Which coincidentally is the restaurant Oliver is standing outside of right now.

Diggle is less than impressed when he hears Ollie ditched both the mission and his bedridden mother to go on a date.

Anyway, Helo and associates walk into Russo’s and demand more money from the owners, and L is particularly unimpressed at Helo’s villain chops. “He needs to play good guys and cops,” she complains.

They’re about to break some fingers when they’re interrupted by Maninnahood, who presumably had his gear in the car he drove here with Helena in? He fights a bunch of people, and Womaninnahelmet marches in, shooting her gun at people.  Ollie drops what he was doing and fights her instead, in a pretty evenly matched combat until he breaks the visor of her helmet and reveals her face. She stares in his eyes for a second (remember Ollie doesn’t wear a mask, just green eye make up) and runs off.

Back in the Arrow Cave, Ollie wants to know why Helena would be going after her own family, and Diggle  notices that the man’s clearly showing signs of the feelings towards her, which as he points out, is crazy even for Ollie, because of the shooting at Moira and the murdering people in cold blood.

Apparently Diggle has forgotten that this is also Ollie’s hobby.

That’s not the only thing he’s forgotten, because when Ollie says “I know what I’m doing,” Diggle says that now “I know what your family feels like when you lie to them.”

Diggle, Oliver lies to you every damn episode. Where’s your head at, today?

Quentin is looking at the security footage from the fight, from the single camera that precludes getting a shot of Helena’s reveal. He does, however, spy Oliver and Helena having dinner earlier that evening, so he goes over to Queen Manor to warn him away from Helena and then leave.

I’m not sure what’s going on there, really.

That same day, at Tommy’s house, that worthy would like to have a few words with his dad about the fact that all his accounts have been frozen and he can’t get at any of his money. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here, either. Do rich people in their twenties have all their personal credit cards and bank accounts managed by their parents?

His dad is fencing at the start of the scene, but he takes his mask off at a key moment and dun dun dun!

JOHN BARROWMAN IS TOMMY’S DAD. And he cut Tommy off for no better reason than he got sick of Tommy’s playboy ways and felt like being spiteful. So huh.

I guess this means that they are doing a Harry Osborn thing with Tommy being the son of the villain and a point in the love triangle without doing any real villainy himself. I expect Barrowman will not make it past the first season, setting Tommy up for archvillainitude in later seasons. Anyway, the fencing is interesting and suggests BarrowMerlyn has fighty skills and will be using them against Ollie in the future.

That evening, Helena is hanging out in her leathers behind a church, at the grave of her fiance. There she is joined by Ollie, who followed her from her house, and admits so boldly like it’s not creepy!

NNCR:  The name on the tombstone is Michael Staton. I don’t know about the first name, but Staton is a reference to Joe Staton, the penciller on the 1989 series that introduced Helena Bertinelli to the DCU.

Ollie says that he’d like to know how her ‘crucible’ changed her. Helena says… no wait, I’m going to quote this wholesale.

When you love someone, as much as I loved him, with all of your heart, you can’t just turn that emotion off when they’re taken from you. You still feel things as deeply, and if it can’t be love that you feel, then it becomes hate.

Yes, she says that.

“Sometimes I think,” I say to L at this point, “that TV writers just don’t understand how human beings work.”

Because whut?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter what, because Helo and goons show up and kidnap them both.

Cut to an empty warehouse, where Ollie and Helena are sat in chairs with their hands ziptied behind them. Helo knows it was her who hit Russo’s, because he found her crucifix – and maybe because she was unmasked? Apparently only Ollie saw that. Ollie offers money to get them out of the situation, but it’s not about him for once. Now it’s time for Helena and Helo to yell at each other.

Frank had Michael murdered because, Helo explains, Michael was talking to the FBI. They found a laptop in his bag containing evidence needed to convict Frank and Helo. But it wasn’t Michael’s, Helena says, but hers. She was the one talking to the FBI.

Helo admits that he killed Michael, on Frank’s orders, and is about to shoot Helena When Ollie, who had broken his bonds, barrels into him. As Ollie fights the two henchmen (including using one as a human shield to take the bullets from the other) Helena beats the everloving crap out of Helo. Ollie kills his guys just in time to look over and watch Helena snap Helo’s neck with her bare hands.

“…Helena,” says Ollie, despairing like a guy who hasn’t been murdering people will nilly for the last seven episodes. Like a guy, in fact, who hasn’t just killed two NPCs with his own bare hands.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she says, “no one can know my secret.”

DIRECT CALLBACK TO THE PILOT.

Quentin and partner are looking at the evidence from this fight – one GSW to the chest, two broken necks. Partner says it’s been a while since the Hood broke necks, and no arrows were found, but Quentin hopes Bertinelli blames the Hood over other mobs, else GANG WAR.

I wonder if the ‘it’s been a while’ comment means that Ollie has been killing less. Becaue it plays into the  arc that I’ve been expecting since Deadshot – a man starting out as a ruthless killer, and mellowing out into a more non-lethal Justice League-y vigilante. The deaths of killers-for-hire Deathstroke and Deadshot, and the appearances of Kate Spencer and Helena Bertinelli, who have similar themes in their own comics, would be perfect in that case.

Quick Tommy/Laurel scene: he’s sad (and homeless!) now that his daddy cut him off, so she invited him in and they eat the delicious pizza from two nights ago. Losing access to your fortune is a chick magnet!

And in Moira’s bedroom, who can this dark shadow be approaching her bed?

Oh, it’s her incredibly sexy husband, who spent three days (as documented by Laurel and Tommy’s dinners) flying in from Melbourne. Hey Walter, next time why don’t you go over the Pacific?

While they’re having hot person-of-a-certain-age reunion sex, Ollie and Thea chat in the hallway. Thea apologizes for being a bitch about the whole lying-to-her abandoning-his-mother thing, and he accepts the apology. But, uh, doesn’t apologize for lying to her or being a terrible son and brother. One thing at a time, Ollie.

Thea repeats her suggestion that he find someone to talk to, if he doesn’t want to talk to her, or Moira, or Laurel, or Tommy, or Diggle. I suggest Diggle, because the man’s sensible and has been through some stuff and understands the difference between justice and revenge and also already knows all Ollie’s secrets.

Ollie, however, is not thinking with that head, and where does he go? Yep, that’d be Helena’s city apartment.

And I don’t mean, he shows up at her door and knocks, because that would be normal. Instead, Helena comes out of the shower in just her robe and wet hair, and finds him standing in her living room. She takes it in stride, because she knows who he is, having seen him fight and also, he doesn’t actually wear a mask.

He tries to give her a lecture on the difference between justice and vengeance, but it doesn’t work so well because this is Oliver bloody Queen and he’s been blurring the line between justice and vengeance for seven episodes. Maybe if Diggle were here, it’d make sense, but this episode has been thin with the Diggle and his words fit poorly in Ollie’s mouth.

Helena doesn’t buy it, of course, because she’s out getting justice for her fiance while Ollie’s out getting Justice for his own Daddy issues and they’re pretty much doing the same thing, fighting the same fight.

“I’ve been alone in my head for so long,” says Helena

“It feels good to tell the truth,” Ollie finishes.

And I lift up my hands and make the NOW KISS gesture at the screen.

What can I say? I ship it. And not because I don’t ship Laurel and Ollie, cause I love her, but Ollie and Helena are broken in the same ways, and it’s so intense and needy. And I love superhero romances between heroes, where there’s no secrets and they understand each other. Actually, romance that comes from understanding is one of my big romance kinks. This is why I like Green Arrow/Black Canary in comics, because they both know each other. Ollie/Laurel while he’s lying to her? Not my thing.

Besides, while I love Helena, at this point in her story she’s broken and rebounding, and can only relate to someone broken and hurting. While Laurel is sweet and good and strong and needs someone who’s at least a little bit better adjusted than Tommy. So let Ollie and Helena work their things out and have hot, passionate sexytimes. Laurel will be there when he deserves her.

And maybe I can start a letter writing campaign to introduce a lesbian latina cop in future seasons.

This post can also be found at Thagomizer.net. Feel free to join in the conversation wherever you feel most comfortable.

30 Nov 09:18

How to Find Your Motivation

by Scott Meyer

Wrote this entire comic in an attempt to pass on one idea, that sometimes, doing exactly what your boss wants is the best kind of sabotage.

Thanks as always for using my Amazon Affiliate links  (USUKCanada).

 

29 Nov 15:45

B&N Nook ebook downloads break when your credit card expires.

B&N Nook ebook downloads break when your credit card expires.
29 Nov 12:50

Tony Blair’s dancing men.

by nevfountain
Watching the excellent ‘Borgen’ last night reminded me of this…

Tony Blair, yesterday.

The dance of Spin Doctors is a wondrous thing to watch; one of the most beautiful and terrifying things in the world, like killer whales fellating each other on icebergs, or silverback gorillas cuddling David Attenborough.

I’ve only ever seen it once close up.  I wish I’d brought my camera.  Or a net.

A few years back, Tony Blair had agreed to appear in a sketch for ‘Children in Need’, involving another version of himself, or to be more precise, Jon Culshaw in a wig.  As head writers for ‘Dead Ringers’ we were charged with writing a sketch showing, for the very first time, the two faces of Tony Blair (ahem).

I can’t remember the details of the sketch, but I’m sure it was going to be a frightfully fun wheeze where Blair would meet Blair, there would be some jokes about how to work out which one of the two was fake (ahem), the VT would end and we’d cut straight to some Estate Agents freezing their knackers off in a Cardiff football stadium and waggling a huge cheque, or something.

The Prime Minister’s office said that Blair was up for anything.  Anything, right chaps?  After all, it was for charity, and ver lickle children, dontcha know.

Another Tony Blair, yesterday.

We wrote a sketch, foolishly, naively, taking them at their word.  Now don’t get me wrong; we didn’t have Blair humping the body of John Smith while dressed in a Thatcherite hair-helmet and pearls, or anything like that.  We weren’t eejits and we wanted this to happen just as much as anyone – for ver lickle children, you understand.

The sketch was, by and large, respectful of the office of the Prime Minister; with one or two slightly cheeky lines that we thought would be the basis of negotiation.

And we were right.  The ‘up for anything’ pledge vanished as swiftly and as silently as a commitment to ban advertising in sport, and then the negotiations started.  This had to be taken out, that gag wasn’t acceptable, no to this joke, no to that joke…blah blah blah.  Or, if you’d rather, Blair Blair Blair.

We made the changes and sent it back.

Then there was an explosion of outrage from number ten!

Why?

Someone had LEAKED the fact that TB was going to be on CIN!

They raged.  They ranted.  They made poor Pudsey’s ears burn.  How dare the Bolshevik Broadcasting Corporation do this!  Deal off, old boy!  Not doing it now!  Not playing!  And that was it.  We were left on the floor trying to put our stuffing back in.

Now here’s the thing: I’m certain the ‘Children in Need’ office didn’t leak it.  The CIN people are the most honest, diligent, dedicated people you could find, and if there’s a condition of secrecy, they’d ruddy well keep it secret.  They’d kept far bigger secrets than this, and there has never been any leaking from them – apart from this incident, strangely enough.

We, on the other hand, weren’t the most honest, diligent, dedicated people you find, but why would we leak the fact that Tony Blair was on Children In Need, when we’re in the process of writing a sketch that would work MUCH MUCH better if the fact that Tony Blair on Children in Need was a big, big surprise?

Of course there was a third possibility; another bunch of people who could have leaked it, and of course we realised when, after the project was pronounced deader than Harriet Harman’s eyes, they came back to us three days later with an ‘all right then, we’ve had a think, and even though you’ve been very naughty, we’ll do it, but this time we’ll do it right, and this time YOU’LL do it right’.

We realised we were being played; there seemed a distinct whiff that some well-groomed haircut had sat down at a mahogany desk, and thought silkily to himself, as he played with a silver letter opener with his long manicured fingers: ‘Okay.  So if we leak it, we get publicity for being nice for ver lickle children, we blame someone else so we don’t look crass in advertising the fact, and blame the EVIL BBC so we get leverage in the forthcoming negotiations of how brilliant Tony is going to look in this sketch.’

It felt like we’d got on a tube for a nice ride to somewhere fun, but found ourselves sitting on someone else’s discarded McDonald’s wrappers.  This was not our world.  This was not the dance we expected to dance; we didn’t have this problem when Adrian Chiles came on the show, for crying out loud…

So we danced the dance, and did our rewrites and then thought, once again, foolishly and naively, that this was the end of the matter.  And it was.

…Until the day of the recording.

Because Spin Doctors love to dance, and the music hadn’t stopped just yet.

The day of the recording was a complete ambush.  Jon Culshaw turned up on the set, only to find that Blair’s spin-doctors had ‘had a bit of a think’ and had written THEIR OWN sketch, to be performed instead of ours.

Of course Jon stood his corner.  Not only had he not rehearsed this sketch, stuffed into his hands with a nanosecond’s notice, he had a huge loyalty to the Dead Ringers team and the writers, and resented the way the whole thing had been handled.  Did these number ten functionaries think they were comedians all of a sudden? (ahem)  So up brewed a fight, an argument so synthetic you could have served it up to me in 1978 instead of Bird’s angel delight and Puffa Puffa Rice, and I would have choked on the E numbers.

And in amidst this artificial spat strode Tony Blair, the peacemaker in chief.

HI!

He was very charming, and he didn’t know what this was all about, and was sure there was some sort of mistake somewhere, and he was sure that he could sort something out.  And they did.

Of course, to create a ‘third way’, both sketches got discarded, and replaced with a little bit of nothingness, and then Blair went on to do the speech he wanted to make all along, with Jon standing on the sidelines.  To Jon’s enormous credit he didn’t take it lying down, and kept spontaneously interrupting the speech with helpful ‘coaching tips’ for the real Blair, telling the Prime Minister when to say ‘in a very real sense’.

It was the funniest thing about the piece, in a very real sense.

So that’s how they dealt with one charity sketch.  God knows how they behaved when they came across anything resembling a policy.  No one begrudges a political party a means to present themselves in the right light; but using spin-doctors as a political tool is like using a tin opener to stir soup.  They have only one job; and they approach that job the same way every time.  They brief against, they run whispering campaigns, they find leverage, they ambush, they trample over everything in their rush to create the ‘right’ image, and leave behind them a fine inedible paste which you would only feed to toddlers.

They dance.


29 Nov 12:48

What’s not a good time for aspergers sufferers. Part one: Funerals.

by nevfountain

I’m actually quite good at these, because even though funerals can be treacherous times for our species, it’s a place where people are expected to blurt out nonsense and look strangely disconnected from the day.  We can blend in seemlessly.

We’ve had a lot of funerals lately; and by ‘a lot’ I mean two.  Which seems a lot.  Actually, I feel like I’ve done three funerals, because Valentine’s day came slap bang between them, so it’s three times in seven days I’ve had to buy flowers, cards, and turn up in my best suit.

As I say, we creatures from planet Aspergers blend right in with the odd, dislocated day of a funeral.  Where we fall down is our tendency towards unvarnished brutal logic.

I was sent out for sympathy cards.  I was asked to buy two, and I came back with five.  I couldn’t make up my mind about the best ones.  Some had crosses, some had flowers, some had crosses made of flowers, some had flowers that looked a bit like crosses.  My partner was slightly surprised to find a pile of sympathy cards on the dining room table.

Partner:    Five?  That’s rather a lot, isn’t it?  Are you expecting anyone else to die?

Me:             Everyone.

I don’t know if my whole family suffers from aspergers.  I haven’t really thought to ask, because, of course, I have aspergers, and it doesn’t occur to us as a rule.  So much of our lives are like that; composed of these closed, recursive circles (Why can’t you do something about your aspergers?  Talk to someone about it?  What’s to talk about?  I have aspergers.  And so on, and so on).

Sometimes it occurs to me that there is a strong strain of it in my family.  We avoid emotional contact, and we make light of dramatic situations. Perhaps that’s just the similar mental condition known as ‘being men of northern English extraction’.

My Dad is by far the worst.  Well, I say ‘worst’.  It means he’s a very funny man.  Never sit next to him in a church when the organist is trying to play ‘Jerusalem’ with her thumbs.  This is not a hypothetical situation, by the way.  I’ve been there.  So has my partner.  She was gripping his arm by the graveside, watching the priest throw handfuls of earth into the grave, when she heard the too-loud comment ‘they’re going to take a bloody long time filling it up that way’.

It’s annoying when you have to live with it, day in, day out. But sometimes it works.

Yesterday we buried my great-aunt Ruby Fountain.  A stunningly amazing human being.  Clever, cultured, insatiably curious, a fan of architecture and history, sometime ‘Archers’ writer and occasional columnist of ‘The Field’, and she could have been so much more, if the conventions of her generation had nor turned her into a loyal and devoted gamekeeper’s wife and mother of three gifted children.  But she would never have seen it like that.  As far as she was concerned her potential had been fulfilled a dozen times over.  We all feel her loss.

So the Fountain men are doing what they always do at the wake; standing by the back wall, and my Dad is doing what he always does at these functions, hovering by the buffet and eyeing up the pork pies as they are being put out on the table.  Ruby’s eldest son, my uncle John comes up to us all.  It’s been a hard day and he’s under a lot of strain, of course.  He’s clearly emotional, and barely knows where he is.  All he can say is…

John:    Oh dear.  What can I say?  What can I say?

My Dad (eyeing up the buffet): Help yourself?

It takes me three minutes to wipe the tears out of my eyes.  The tears that got put there through laughter, but were leaving through grief.

Yes, there were tears.  We may be from planet Aspergers, but we’re not robots.


29 Nov 12:45

The New Closed Shop

by nevfountain

News stories don’t make a splash anymore, they bleed.  We hear grim noises and the odd scream, but it only gets our full attention when there’s a red stain emerging from under the abattoir door.

This is particularly true when it comes to stories about the media; such as Hacking, Jimmy Savile and the subsequent miss-steps over naming a prominent (and very innocent) Tory Grandee by ‘Newsnight’.  It’s very ironic of a business that is all about ‘show’ that it keeps so much concealed, and when a vein is opened, it doesn’t stop until the floor is sticky.

The latest spasm of one haemorrhaging carcass happened yesterday, with Chris Patten justifying George Entwistle’s pay-offs, his full yearly salary, his fat pensions, his this, his that.  Contracts were mentioned.  They were mentioned a lot.  We as the licence fee payers were, apparently, very lucky to get off this lightly.

To the ordinary man watching News Online on his phone on the Clapham Omnibus, this seems staggering.  Surely if a man goes on Television after patently demonstrating that he’s not up to his job, and tells us he is resigning, then any contract is invalidated by the act of him going out the door?  It doesn’t matter if he did it with ‘dignity’ or as an ‘honourable man’.  Just piss off, why don’t you.

A disgruntled employee in an office, say, does not make a deal with his company, that in return for not telling his boss he can stick his job up the arse and emptying the stationary cupboard, he can get his salary for the next twelve months.  He has resigned.  He has not taken voluntary redundancy, and he really shouldn’t be applauded for it.

George Entwistle was brought down by an incredible interview on ‘Today’, when his complete inability to explain his actions, and his gobsmacking defence of not being on top of this grisly, unfolding mess was his plaintive cry of ‘I was writing a speech!’  You could hear the ‘thud’ as John Humphrys’ jaw hit the floor.

Incurious George

This was not the first revealing interview on ‘Today’ involving a DG.  A few years ago, Mark Thompson was asked why, at the height of the Russell Brand/Jonathan Ross controversy, that because he was on holiday at the time, he had to fly himself (and his family) back at the License Fee Payer’s expense.   Mark huffed, and he spluttered, and he said something like:  ‘Well you couldn’t expect me to abandon them out there?’

Well yes, Mark, we did expect that, or to put it another way, we expected you to pay for your family’s travel expenses.

Your family was, I’m guessing, staying in a very nice five star hotel in a very nice part of Europe.  The very idea that they had to accompany you home on a turd-polishing exercise that was purely part of your job is absurd.  You were paid handsomely to do that job (six times more than the previous Director General), and you actually expected this unnecessary expense to come out of someone else’s pocket other than your own?  That was the real scandal, and as so many real scandals are these days, obscured by another smaller scandal, which was shinier and more fun.

But Mark and George’s comments are a symptom of the insanity of media management in Britain today, a self-interested cartel as poisonous and debilitating to Television production as the militant unions in the 70s and 80s.

Whenever one self-interested group takes over a business, Television or otherwise, there are signs.  Process becomes more important than outcome; outrageous amounts of money are spent on something that doesn’t benefit the consumer; standards suddenly drop for no apparent reason.  Incomprehensible jargon abounds, which means nothing, simply a self-screening method for groups to create an impression that they are indispensable.  There are merry-go-rounds of jobs for the boys, where remuneration is an end in itself, not an incentive to do better.

The concept of an entire Union striking because an actor moved a prop is no more absurd than the ethos displayed by those two DG interviews; the idea that programmes are cancelled due to disputes not remotely related to their production is no more ridiculous than the closing of regional radio stations while at the same time putting up huge constructions of steel and glass across the country, buildings commissioned by managers, to house rooms of managers for endless management meetings.  Not for studios, or rehearsal rooms, or writer’s rooms, just rooms full of chairs.

Mark Thompson trying not to masturbate at the sight of empty soulless offices.

The money spent on the refurbishment of Broadcasting House exceeded the amount used to create the Millennium Dome – and for what?  What benefit to the taxpayer?  There are hundreds of managers in the BBC that have ‘communication’ in their job titles, but none have seen fit to communicate to the License Payer why any of this is necessary; in fact, as we have seen, management structures have been created so that managers don’t have to justify their management decisions; a powerful echo of those overmighty TV unions in decades past, creating systems and rules so they don’t have to do the jobs they’re employed to do.

A decade ago I worked at Channel 4, where I found it over-managed and confusing.  Editorial interference was routine, contradictory and intrusive.  There were incredible layers of management, jargon, and soon after that the station got into severe financial trouble.  The Chief Executive, of course, was Mark Thompson.   Sound familiar?  Mark left the BBC with a billion pound pension black hole, a reduced licence fee, a ridiculously expensive migration to Central London and Salford, an incredible brain drain of talent, and a costly land sale of Television Centre.  By any standards that you define ‘management’ that was a failure of management, yet definitions of ‘success’ and ‘failure’ do not exist at this level, as his happy recruitment by the New York Times suggests.  But then again, the US is developing a track record of welcoming head-scratchingly bad British exports; just look at Piers Morgan replacing Larry King…

Let’s go back to that Jonathan Ross/Russell Brand debacle.  One of the biggest sticks that the BBC was biffed with at the time was Jonathan Ross’s huge salary, paid to him by the BBC for his services.  There was justifiable outrage at his package, and a predictable witch-hunt for over-paid talent.  But again, that was the Press looking at something exciting and shiny and missing the deeper point.  The reason why this particular ‘talent’ was paid so much was also a symptom of management bureaucracy; a coward’s charter where ‘talent’ is sorted into people who were ‘assets’ to be retained and flattered, in order to show off ‘the brand’, and those they could afford to completely ignore.  The inflated salary to above-the-line talent was only one half of the equation, the reduction in quality of treatment to other ‘talent’ that they could afford to offend is the other.

If you watch an episode of ‘Doctors’ or any daytime drama, chances are you are watching actors wearing their own clothes, and who have been asked to drive themselves to the set.  It’s likely those actors were required to audition on the other side of the country, travelling hundreds of miles with no travel expenses offered.  If  they are ‘lucky’ enough to get the job, they are then are asked to work for salaries that have been depressed to a fraction of what they were in years past.  They are directed by trainees on work experience, and the scripts are written by writers who are part of ‘new talent’ schemes that mean their work is unpaid, and in order to be paid a proper rate, have to produce a series of scripts for practically nothing, after which they are usually discarded for more ‘new talent’ graduates.  Contracts are sloppily written and usually ignored, gambling that the ‘talent’ they are dealing with has insufficient funds or is scared about withdrawal of further work to actually sue.

This contempt is not new, granted; back in the 80s, actors were not allowed in the BBC car park.  Salaried staff, such as cleaners (who finished at five) were allowed, but young actresses who finished filming, more often than not at ten o clock at night, had to walk to their cars on an unlit road to a field in the middle of nowhere, which was where the ‘artistes’ were allowed to park.  The difference today is, that contemptuous attitude has now been packaged and processed and brought within a corporate ethos.  Nowadays, as a freelancer I’ve tried to use BBC premises to work on BBC shows.  I have been invited to ‘hot desk’, on a computer, which is usually broken, set between the open doors of the BBC white city building and the canteen, so caught between a howling gale and the stink of over-fried food.  I believe a similar technique is used in fast food restaurants to encourage customers to finish up and piss off as soon as is humanly possible.

This attitude to ‘talent’ is a bit of a mystery, as this is not reflected in the American model, where writers and actors at every level are well cared for, well remunerated and given incentives to work for studios.  The BBC attitude is a hangover from the time when it was a grubby idea to even work for Television, and that the ‘talent’ told everyone who listened that it was a shameful stopgap while more prestigious theatre work came along.  American television, borne in the tradition of cinema, never had that ingrained snobbery.

British television has management that aspires to the American model, but only when it comes to their own jobs, where remuneration is enormous, and there is an expectation that if you reach a certain level with a television company, you should leave that job as a millionaire.  The contradiction here is that UK television has never been based on the American model, and is moving further and further from it.  Like the British Film industry, it is not large enough; there is not enough quality comedy or drama to justify giving payouts to managers that mean they never have to work again.  Most of the on-screen product is cheap, and made on the fly.  UK TV is what it always was, a cottage industry relying on raw talent of actors, directors, journalists, writers and technical staff to punch above its’ weight.  It does not need layers of management to harness this.   There is no ‘risk’ involved in their world, unlike the US model where the stakes are much higher, success and failure are tangible, measurable things, and most US execs are fired several times in their careers.  If you removed most of the UK management, it would not make the slightest bit of difference as to what happens on the screen.  Their removal would probably make a lot of things better, and no-one but them would shed a tear for their passing –   just like the breaking of the closed shop in the late 80s.

Even today we shudder when the phrases ‘Work to rule’ and ‘Closed Shop’ are uttered, but in years to come I think we will also cringe when we remember the moment when during a parliamentary select committee enquiry, George Entwistle pointed out he was never ‘Head of Television’, just ‘Head of Vision’.

The ‘Telly’ bit is obviously superfluous these days.  But we knew that already.


29 Nov 11:24

Comic for November 29, 2012

29 Nov 00:12

The Mary-Sue Extrusion

by Lawrence Burton


Dave Stone The Mary-Sue Extrusion (1999)
Some may recall how when Doctor Who collapsed under the strain of its own increasingly desperate attempts to remain relevant back in 1989, Virgin publishing took it upon themselves to keep the wheels turning as a series of original novels. The New Adventures, as they were called, were for the most part decent, doing for Sylvester McCoy's version of the Doctor that which the screen version had never quite pulled off; and whilst there were a few duds, the range was as a whole pretty successful with books written as science-fiction novels that just happened to borrow from an existing mythos rather than simply trying to recreate a kid's telly show. The ambition, even if it wasn't always realised, was at least a bit more far reaching than what would happen if the Monoids teamed up with the Voord.

The BBC in their finite wisdom saw fit to take back all the licensing rights in 1996 when the advent of the Paul McGann film hinted at there being a previously untapped udder swinging somewhere beneath that big old Doctor Who cash cow; but only slightly daunted, the New Adventures continued minus the Doctor or Time Lords, shifting the focus to Bernice Summerfield, a companion introduced in one of the earlier Virgin novels and thus impervious to the machinations of the BBC legal department.

Bernice Summerfield was a character I never quite warmed to - a sort of archaeological Emma Thompson serving as conduit for wearisome jokes about hangovers and bonking, and actually using the word bonking just like in all those supposedly edgy 1980s sitcoms; but, with the emphasis still on a decent novel rather than a franchise, the better authors usually got away with it.

Of the eighty-four New Adventures that were published before Virgin decided they'd tried their best but it just wasn't happening - Doctor Who fans tending to judge quality in terms of whether or not it features a Doctor Who logo and is thus brilliantly brilliant and brilliant and stuff - Lawrence Miles' Dead Romance and Dave Stone's The Mary-Sue Extrusion were, I would argue, probably the best; and it's interesting that Bernice Summerfield doesn't feature at all in one, and is peripheral in the other.

The Mary-Sue Extrusion casually tosses out big ideas in quick succession, contains not one single clichéd or otherwise prosaic sentence, and even manages to examine itself without coming over all Grant Morrison. The term Mary-Sue refers to a semi-autobiographical stand-in, usually wish-fulfilment on the part of an author who wants to shag the main character of the novel. I sort of wonder if this story was an attempt to examine this aspect of a range with at least a few contributing Emmathompsonophiles and to get beyond the routine spacefaring archaeologist schtick. Whatever the case, it certainly made for better reading than some of the previous titles. The Mary-Sue turns out to be a personality transplant taken on by Bernice Summerfield after deciding she wants to be someone else for a while, thus becoming Rebecca. This in itself, particularly in diary extracts where Bernice discusses her relationship with Rebecca - still misleadingly identified as an individual in her own right - hints at a further level of introspection given how the range was faring under the editorial direction of Rebecca Levene. That post-modern stuff is rarely so understated as here, and The Mary-Sue Extrusion operates on more levels than most writers can juggle without looking like tits, and it does so with effortless grace.

Dave Stone has been described as a Marmite author - you either love his writing or you hate it - which I can't help but read as shorthand for you either love books trying something a bit more ambitious than pretending to be a 1970s TV show or you hate them; but different strokes and all that...

I tend to think a story stands on the strength of its telling over and above details of plot or whether there's a Doctor Who logo on the cover - yeah, I know that seems a wild and radical notion - and Dave Stone's writing is rich and expressive, a joy to read which elevates a very simple story - the private investigator on the trail of a missing person - to something greater than one might expect of a book published as part of a range and committed to furthering a continuing story.

The New Adventures range began with the intention of getting new authors in print, and I always imagined this implied a hope of one or two going onto bigger and better things. Miserably, this doesn't quite seem to have happened as it might have done, and it's a real shame because The Mary-Sue Extrusion is at least as good as Iain M. Banks' better novels, and it pisses all over what I've read of Charles Stross, Alastair Reynolds, Eric Brown and the like.
29 Nov 00:09

Rupert Everett wins Film Quote of the Year

by Jonathan Calder
Discussing Richard Curtis in the Daily Mail in September, Everett said:
Curtis, for anyone who doesn’t know, was to Blair’s Britain what Leni Riefenstahl was to Hitler’s Germany.
28 Nov 18:52

Hot, Hot, Hot

by Shaun Usher


In May of 2000, an episode of Will & Grace aired in which one of its gay characters, Jack, joins an ex-gay ministry in an effort to get close to, and seduce, its formerly gay leader, Bill (played by Neil Patrick Harris). Unsurprisingly, the ex-gay community — people who claim to have suppressed or sometimes even "cured" their homosexuality — weren't depicted in the best of lights. Shortly after the episode was aired, the show's story editor, Jon Kinnally — himself a gay man — received a letter of complaint from Mike Haley, a "former gay man" and Youth & Gender Specialist at Focus on the Family, a Christian organisation which actively promotes sexual orientation conversion therapy.

His letter and a response composed by the Will & Grace staff, both of which were subsequently published by an infuriated Focus on the Family, can be read below. When later questioned about the matter, Jon Kinnally said, "What [Focus on the Family] are doing is reprehensible, wrong, and fear-based."

Transcripts follow. Apologies for the image quality.

(Source: Bradlands, via Will & Grace producer Jeff Greenstein; Image above via.)




Transcripts
June 9, 2000

Mr. Jon Kinnally
Story Editor
Will and Grace
NBC Television Network
30 Rockefeller Plaza
New York, NY 10112-0002

Dear Mr. Kinnally:

I am writing to request a meeting with you regarding a recent episode of Will and Grace. The show in question grossly misrepresented thousands of individuals struggling to come out of homosexuality. As a former gay man, and now a national spokesman and expert on homosexuality and youth issues for Focus on the Family — one of the country's largest organizations who, among other things, assists gays and lesbians who desire to be heterosexual — I know first-hand how frustrating and painful it is to be mocked by those who haven't taken the time to find out what this process is all about. I'm specifically talking about references in the show to former homosexuals, and those wrestling with their sexual identity, as "freaks," "self-loathing closet cases," "morally wrong" and as members of "cults." Nowhere in this episode are we portrayed as honest men and women seeking help.

You may vehemently disagree with this position, but I'd at least like the opportunity to sit down with you and talk about it. Our conversation may not change your mind about the possibility of coming out of homosexuality, but at the very least it will put a real face behind the caricature you depicted on prime time TV. And in the end, hopefully it will encourage you to think twice before ridiculing the belief systems of those who differ from you. With that in mind, please respectfully consider my request, Mr. Kinnally. I can be reached at [redacted]. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Mike Haley
Public Policy/Youth & Gender Specialist

---------------------

July 14, 2000

Mr. Mike Haley
Focus on the Family
8605 Explorer Drive
Colorado Springs, CO 80920

Dear Mr. Haley,

I received your letter dated June 9, and was very interested in your point of view. The issues you raised are the very same ones that we on the Will & Grace writing staff debate on a daily basis. Our decision to present the story on the ex-gay ministry was solely in the interest of creating the most comedic episode possible. And it was certainly not our intention to offend you in any way. But come on, Mike, even you've got to admit that fags trying to pretend they're straight is pretty darn funny.

In response to your request for a meeting, well, I think I can read between the lines on that one. I'm about 6'1", brown hair, green eyes and I'm into rollerblading, baking cookies, and cleaning up afterwards. My dislikes include game-playing, negative attitudes, and condoms.

If any of this interests you, I can be found every Sunday at the Brunch and Beer Bust at the Motherlode in West Hollywood. I do hope you show, because like you, I am an expert on homosexuality, and in my expert opinion, this "hard-to-get thing" you're playing is Hot, Hot, Hot!

Respectfully,

(Signed)

Jon Kinnally
Executive Story Editor
Will & Grace

P.S. Keep on watchin'!

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