Wednesday, 6 July 2005

Live8, G8, desper8...

Last weekend, the great and the good rallied around to raise awareness of third world poverty by staging a series of rock concerts around the world. The BBC kindly broadcast the day's proceedings to an eager viewing public. Certainly it was an amazing spectacle: Paul McCartney, U2, Dido, REM, Keane, Travis, Razorlight, Robbie Williams and The Who were all excellent entertainment. Pink Floyd made men of a certain age get moist-eyed just by all turning up together. Other acts, including the much-lauded Coldplay, were below par in my book. Ms Dynamite spoiled the token appearance bestowed on her by squealing between two otherwise decent songs. Snoop Dogg's "mother-loving" exhortations provoked much hilarity with yours truly, and apparently many (300+) complaints to the Beeb. And everyone proclaimed their adoration for Sir Bob Geldof, some to the extent that you wondered whether they wanted to have his children. So everything's okay then, right?

Well I'm not so sure, to be honest. There's certainly no doubting Geldof's good intentions, and those of us who have supported the cause will at least be able to look back in years to come and say they tried to make a difference. I just wish I felt more confident that we can make that difference. Africa's problems stem far beyond simple poverty: corruption in government is rife in many countries; the healthcare burden of AIDS and HIV is tremendous; the infrastructure and supporting industry necessary to support the proposed increased in fair trade is patchy; civil unrest within and between territories is common. Then there's the question of whether the West has the right to impose its view of trade, healthcare, infrastructure and all the rest on such a different culture... or rather, such a huge collection of different cultures.

There's also an issue on which I feel sure I must be over-simplifying. The figure of 30,000 people dying needlessly every day makes my head spin. Clearly this is appalling. But let's just suppose, for one second, that G8 acquiesce to all of the Live8 campaign's demands, and that those 30,000 people don't die every day. In a week, 210,000 will have been saved. In five weeks, over a million will not have perished. In a year, that figure ramps up to over 10 million. This is clearly a good thing; no-one should die for simple lack of the money or means to support themselves. What worries me is that these impoverished areas don't have the means or infrastructure to support their current populations; how are they going to support 10 million more? And 10 million more the year after that? Are we just pushing back today's problems to a time in a few years when the basic survival needs of a larger population can no longer be met, in the same way that those basic needs cannot be met for today's poor? I don't know, maybe I am over-simplifying.

Finally, why isn't the G8 the G9? China is booming in every way: population, trade, industry... and carbon emissions. Okay, so the derisory figure of George W. Bush has attracted much criticism (though not enough from within his own country) for taking the US out of the Kyoto Agreement on climate change, especially since the States contributes a staggering 22% of the world's carbon emissions. By contrast, the whole of Europe contributes 12%, so we're clearly right to deride Bush for such lunacy. But China contributes 13%, a figure that looks certain to rise given the need for the immense Chinese population to play catch-up, racing through the same industrial and cultural follies that the West stumbled through in the latter half of the 20th Century. So why isn't China taking a seat at the G8 table and discussing these weighty issues? Why aren't there nine men in a room?

But I digress. Live8 is a noble cause and we have to try to make poverty history, even if you're as sceptical about our chances of success as me. I urge you to register your support for Sir Bob and his merry men at Live8live.com now.

And if you're as concerned as I am that ours is the generation that will be remembered for polluting our planet irretrievably, please take a look at the CRed carbon reduction campaign.

Friday, 10 June 2005

The Men Who...

Last Thursday, I had the good fortune to see a Travis gig. It was a wonderfully low-key affair; they had been drafted in to play the Isle of Wight festival as a last-minute replacement for Morrissey. Having not played live for a while, they needed to play a warm-up gig. So it was that they came to be playing to a crowd of maybe 1500 in a provincial university. And what a gig it was.

Most of the crowd had come hoping for a "greatest hits" set, and weren't disappointed, with nearly all the band's singles getting an airing, including "Sing", "Side", "Turn", "Driftwood", "Re-offender", "U16 Girls" and more besides. We were also treated to the first public performance anywhere of a new song, "Closer", and, during the encore, a cover of Morrissey's "Everyday Is Like Sunday". For me, and probably many others, the highlight of the evening was Fran's solo acoustic rendition of "Flowers In The Window". With the PA and monitors turned off, it was just a completely unamplified Fran and his guitar... plus the crowd for the choruses, of course.

As you can tell, I was very impressed with the whole show. Fran was very chatty with the audience, there was no merchandising or heavy-handed security, and the encore concluded with a rousing, sing-along rendition of "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?" to send the crowd home happy. This gig is a new entry in my "top five gigs I have ever been to" list, so I am more than happy to sell Travis to you... you can find lots of good stuff from them on Amazon right here.

Tuesday, 24 May 2005

The BBC: is this the beginning of the end?

Yesterday, hundreds of BBC staff went on strike over proposed cut-backs and inevitable redundancies. Even high profile figures like the lovely Natasha Kaplinsky made the effort (although not going to work doesn't technically constitute a great deal of effort). I doubt that Ms Kaplinsky was outside Broadcasting House with a placard in her hand, but I digress.

The thing is, if the great and good at the BBC are worried enough to down tools, so to speak, then things must be bad. When was the last time you can recall the Beeb's scheduling being disrupted by industrial action? No, I can't remember either.

The BBC (or British Broadcasting Corporation, to give it its full moniker) is, for my money, the greatest broadcasting agency in the world. Okay, I obviously seen every alternative globally, but I've been to enough countries and watched enough TV to know that the Beeb is pretty special, and should be treasured. Okay, so we have to cough up an annual license fee but compare the outlay of this to the spiralling monthly costs of a Sky TV subscription. Then consider all the new digital channels the BBC has launched (TV and radio) to supplement its existing output. Add to this the fact that, "due to the unique way the BBC is funded", you can actually watch a film on the BBC without being interrupted by adverts (bliss). And as if that wasn't enough, the BBC also provides, in my view, the greatest one-stop website you'll find anywhere - the volume and breadth of content is phenomenal.

So yes, I am obviously a fan of the BBC. As such, I am somewhat concerned about any plans to "streamline", "rationalise" or "modernise" the Corporation, and you should be too. Such buzzwords are often euphemisms for "muck up" or, worse still, "irreversably damage". So don't moan if your usual newsreader is off-screen for one day: support and understand their industrial action. Cherish the BBC: watch its programmes (easy, given the celebrity-obsessed dross on ITV), try out the new channels, explore the website. There's nothing else like it anywhere in the world, and you'll miss it when it's gone...

Sunday, 22 May 2005

What's going on?

Okay, so I haven't written much lately. I guess I am in danger of going the way of so many other 'blogs... the novelty wears off, writing becomes onerous, the journal dies a death. But I've been busy, that's all. Laptop time has been at a premium. Still, I've managed to find a few minutes to write about the events of the last few weeks, and it seems the theme is... what the hell is going on?
  • Tony Blair is widely held to have lied to the "Great" British public so that he could take the country to war, acting as George Bush's lick-spittle in a conflict that was as much to do with oil as it was WMD and regime change. Still he is comfortably re-elected as Prime Minister with a bigger majority than I recall John Major ever enjoying...
  • Abigail Witchalls gets a knife stuck through her neck in an apparently motiveless attack whilst taking her toddler son for a walk in a sleepy Surrey village...
  • Television schedules are filled with inane dross like "Celebrity Wrestling" (notable for its lack of actual, Big Daddy-style wrestling) and "Celebrity Love Island"...
  • Some guy that no-one's ever heard of turns up at The Crucible Theatre and walks away with the World Championship trophy. If it's that easy, I think I'll have a go next year...
  • Top pop poppet Kylie Minogue, someone that all men of a certain age (like me) feel that they've grown up with, is diagnosed with breast cancer just a few weeks short of her 37th birthday...
  • Arsenal and Manchester United, two of the biggest clubs in world football, can't manage a goal between them in 120 minutes of normal play in the final of the world's biggest knockout competition, the F.A. Cup...

Honestly, it's enough to make you question your own world-view. Life is becoming unpredictable in a way that I'm not sure I like. In fact, it's not so much "what's going on" as "whatever next?"

It's reassuring, then, to realise that some things are less random. After weeks of the media stoking up expectation, the UK entry went into last night's Eurovision Song Contest with the nation convinced she was going to win. Never mind the fact that the song didn't actually go anywhere and was so unconventionally structured. Our Euro-playmates are certainly not ready for such, ahem, sophistication. Needless to say, we trailed in third from last and, if not for Ireland giving us eight points, we would undoubtedly have collected the wooden spoon. Some things never change... thank goodness.

Thursday, 28 April 2005

Adapt and survive

I recently bit the bullet and finally bought a digital camera. This doesn't mean I have abandoned my trusty old SLR - that will come out of retirement any time I need to take 'proper' photographs. The digital camera is great though, but I do have a gripe (didn't you just know I would). The camera has a mains adaptor for charging the battery, naturally... just like my mobile phone... and my PDA... and so on. All these items of digital jewellery have mains adaptors, yet none of these adaptors are interchangeable. Even when the kit is of the same brand, as my camera and phone are! The upshot of this is that I end up with a spaghetti tangle of cables competing for space around my power outlets, cluttering my desk and taking up valuable space around the house. Surely it is not beyond the wit of man to develop a standard for mains adaptors that manufacturers could all adopt. Look at TV aerial cables, hi-fi interconnects and even conventional power outlets. All of these are standardised, so why can't mains adaptors for today's digital goodies conform to a single standard too?

Call me an old cynic if you will, but I suspect the reason is that there is a healthy market in accessory sales and bespoke, brand-specific products. If these adapters were interchangeable, our beloved electronics corporate giants would never sell another one... and the mark-up on accessories like these is staggering. As ever, it's all about the £/$/¥...

Right, I'm off to see if I can untangle enough wires to charge up my camcorder...

Wednesday, 6 April 2005

I take it all back...

Last month I wrote at some length regarding my concerns for the new version of Doctor Who. Well, two episodes in I find myself in the happy position of wanting to take it all back. Much has been written about the general excellence of Christopher Ecclestone; still more has been said about the exuberant brilliance of Billie Piper. Now Ecclestone is always good value and Piper, despite being somewhat lantern-jawed and over-doing the Estuary English, is very watchable. But for me, the real hero of this comeback is Russell T. Davies.

Davies's scripts sizzle with energy, pace and wit. The tempo is high - whole stories are comfortably resolved in 45 minutes - and the dialogue (mercifully not simplified for the kid-laden target audience) is crammed with loads of subtle jokes aimed squarely at adult viewers. So thank you Russell; I was very worried about my childhood TV memories being slaughtered - instead, I find myself making pleasurable new, adult ones instead.

Now here's hoping the imminent big-screen version of "Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy" is half decent too...

Monday, 21 March 2005

The Premiership 2004/5 - substance over style

I'm a football fan - that's soccer for any North American readers. I'm not obsessive about it - I don't plan my year around the fixtures list, for example, and I don't own a replica shirt (though I do have two club t-shirts). I've been to quite a few games this season though, and have been lucky enough to watch current champions Arsenal and champions-elect Chelsea. Both were impressive and both ran out comfortable winners against my team. This year's title race is effectively over already, with Chelsea so far ahead it's not true. The only way they're not going to win is if the entire squad is struck down with bird flu. This is all very nice for the success-starved Chelsea fans, who've had to wait a very long time to win the league, and arguably it's good news for the media and the FA, since the Blues have succeeded in breaking the two-horse race dominance of Arsenal and Manchester United. But it is good for football?

Don't get me wrong, I'm an admirer of Jose Mourinho, he seems to be a class act, and I suspect the recent histrionics he's been displaying are calculated to deflect attention from his squad as they pursue the Premiership and Champions League. And, undoubtedly, his teams get results. But is it good for the spectator? As I've said, I've seen Arsenal and Chelsea this season. Arsenal played incisively with skill, pace and creative flair. Chelsea played incisively with skill and pace. Sure, Chelsea still pulled the opposition apart. But with Arsenal, even the opposition fans applauded some of their play, it was so good. Yes, Chelsea did everything they needed to do to win comprehensively. So did Arsenal, but they were far more entertaining. At the time of writing, Arsenal are 13 points behind Chelsea.

So is this indicative of a trend towards substance over style in English football? Bolton Wanderers, an unfashionable team with comparably limited means, are challenging for a spot in next season's UEFA Cup. How have they got to this lofty position? By "winning ugly" - lots of players behind the ball, long punts upfield, classic route one football. And at the other end of the table, the converse is true. As I write, the three teams in the relegation positions are the same three teams that were promoted last season: Norwich City, West Bromwich Albion and Crystal Palace. Palace play attack-minded, committed football, and have a genuinely exciting player in Andy Johnson. I can't say too much about West Brom, having not seen them much this year but if their 4-1 win at the weekend is anything to go by they must be doing (or trying to do) something right. As for Norwich City, much has been said and written about them, both by opposing managers and the media - the prevailing theme seems to be that they are a team that tries to play attractive, passing football, whilst maintaining a friendly, well-organised club. Norwich are rock-bottom in the league, seven points from safety and with only three wins to their name thus far this season. For a club that won last year's old Division 1 title with such ease, this is disappointing. Much has been written about the gulf between the Premiership and the Championship, and the relegation status of last year's promoted teams would seem to support this. But to me, it also seems that teams with substance will triumph over teams with style. I hope, for the sake of the game, that Norwich somehow escape relegation and continue to ply their entertaining trade in the top flight. But I fear the odds are against them, as panache is forced out of the modern game with the advent of a "win at all costs" mentality. If substance really has triumphed over style, then the beautiful game will get a little less beautiful every year.

Monday, 14 March 2005

If you're a Timelord, you can make a comeback whenever you want

I find myself with mixed feelings regarding the imminent comeback of Doctor Who. Sure, Christopher Ecclestone is an excellent actor (Our Friends In The North being one of the greatest pieces of television I have ever seen) and Billie Piper also shows great promise (see the recent updating of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales). Crucially, bubbly blonde Billie gives the new show the same Dad-appeal the old series had when Louise Jameson paraded around in not too many clothes during the Tom Baker era's post-Grandstand Saturday afternoon slot. Add in the blue police box, scripts by the acclaimed Russell T. Davies and a comeback for the Daleks too (although I always preferred the Cybermen) and everything seems to be in place.

So what am I worried about? Well, I'm not convinced that today's kids are going to buy into Dr Who in the same way that my generation did. Despite the best efforts of the BBC, I feel fairly confident that most kids will be able to find better visual effects in their PlayStation2 and XBox games. As for being scared by hordes of freakish aliens, will 21st Century teens hide behind the sofa at the sight of an actor in a knobbly rubber suit? I hope so, but I doubt it; I doubt even primary school kids will be peeping through their fingers. Why? Today's kids are so much more shockproof than we were and is it any wonder, given their televisual diet? So the fear-factor is out.

So too is the oddball appeal, I fear. Jon Pertwee had frilly shirts, a velvet blazer and a classic car called Betsy. Tom Baker had a floppy hat, Jelly Babies and the world's longest scarf. Peter Davison always looked like he had either just come from the cricket pitch or was just going boating, plus he had question marks on his shirt collar. Ecclestone's Doctor wears a leather jacket... so let's hope he has some, as yet undiscovered, curiosity value, something cool or bizarre, or preferably both. At long as he doesn't have visible tattoos...

I guess my biggest problem though is that this feels like tinkering with my childhood. Dr Who was finished, allowing us all to grow up and look back at it with a kind of lazy nostalgia, mistily reminiscing about Sonic Screwdrivers, Gallifrey and K-9, before debating who was the "best" Doctor (Davison by a nose, for me). But now it's back, thus forcing us to re-evaluate what has gone before, maybe even face up to the fact that a lot of it hasn't aged very well. Although the Dalek's might have looked cool, it's time to admit they were rubbish. A sink plunger is not a scary weapon. Being outwitted by stairs is not cool.

So that's it really, another childhood memory brought into sharp focus, another sorry realisation. So will I be watching when the new series starts in a couple of weeks? Of course I will! And not just because of the aforementioned Dad-appeal either! But I'll be doing so with a wry grin, as I inevitably recall the somewhat puzzling schoolboy crush I had on Tegan, the Doctor's Australian air stewardess assistant... sigh...

Tuesday, 8 March 2005

Great Britain? Think again...

Shakespeare, Newton, Darwin, Churchill... Stonehenge, Canterbury Cathedral, Edinburgh Castle, The Angel of the North... The Lake District, the Cornish Coast, the Norfolk Broads, Snowdonia... few would argue that Britain has a heritage, culture and history that is unsurpassed. It's easy to look back at the past and feel a warm glow at being part of a nation that has done so much, given so much.

Think again. Instead of looking back through such red, white and blue-tinted spectacles, take a look through your window at the Britain of today. Take a walk down any provincial high street. What do you see? Gangs of teen thugs, studies in ignorance, loiter on street corners, their every characteristic designed to suggest menace. If you are lucky, they will content themselves with a bit of mindless vandalism, or using their numerical strength to be intimidating. A bit of verbal abuse aimed your way, perhaps. Dare you say anything back? Of course not. At best you will be vilified for abusing their human rights by telling them to behave. At worst they will be carrying a knife.

A trawl through any mainstream newspaper will yield further evidence. Just last week, incredible as it may seem, a two-year old died in Glasgow after being shot with an air rifle. Yesterday, the BBC News website informed us that Police were questioning a man about a missing 34-year-old building society worker after a woman's body was found near an airfield. Such stories are no longer shocking to Britons, it seems - this story came below such "important" news as Virgin Radio offering 3G mobile phone services and Manchester United missing two players for their next Champions League match.

Perhaps such problems are inevitable, given the cartoonish nature of violence in Hollywood's TV and film offerings, the supposed credibility afforded to gun-crime by gangster rap, and computer games wherein success is dependent on aggressive "play". Sadly, the problems in Britain's streets don't stop with violence and anti-social behaviour. Soaring teen pregnancy rates, rampant compensation culture, a justice system that can legitimately favour the criminal over the victim, an education system that is hamstrung by bureaucracy and on obsession with quantitative testing, a health service that is as likely to make you sick as cure you (when you finally get seen, that is)... I could go on...

... so I will. This "green and pleasant land" is anything but - compare our recycling rates with, for example, Australia (something like 12% of all rubbish is recycled here, compared with something like 60% down under). This tiny country, with its burgeoning population, can ill afford more land-fill sites, let alone the ecological catastrophes that are commercial incinerators. What's more, an aged and failing public transport network has led a situation where the only viable solution to the nation's transport woes is just to build more (and wider) roads. That, together with John Prescott's absurd house-building plans, mean that this fair nation of ours is in the process of being tarmac'ed over.

And what has become of the British public? It seems that every other person one meets is like a character from "Little Britain" or "Wife Swap" and, incredibly, finds no shame in this. Worse still is the number of people who are quite happy to act in a self-centred, ignorant manner and do so without so much as a second thought. By way of an example, I challenge you to take up a vantage point in any British high street and time how long it takes for you to see someone littering. Quite often this will be done in clear sight of a waste bin. If you're feeling brave enough to take issue with the offender, prepare yourself for the inevitably profane response. Society as a whole has become so obsessed with its rights - "I have the right to do whatever I like" - that it has completely neglected the concept of personal responsibility. Who's to blame? I don't know, to be honest. Directly, parents who are more concerned with their own lives than being responsible parents, perhaps. Indirectly, 18 years of right-wing Tory rule may have bred a "me, me, me" culture. The increasing globalisation, specifically Americanisation, of mainstream Britain is another factor, perhaps. Maybe the media should take some of the blame, for establishing the cult of celebrity as a new religion, and disseminating its pathetic gospel. Whatever the cause, I fear it is too late for Britain; too large a proportion of its population seem happy to embody everything I've outlined here, favouring their rights over their moral responsibilities because it's easier and provides more instant gratification.

Great Britain? Don't make me laugh. If not for family and friends, I would leave tomorrow.

Tuesday, 1 March 2005

Despair and Microsoft... for once, unrelated!

If, like me, you work in a corporate environment with motivational posters on the wall, you may enjoy the products offered at despair.com, guaranteed to provide minutes of fun. Sadly, these products are commercial offerings, being offered for cold hard cash. Of course, there's nothing to stop you (except copyright, naturally) browsing the pictures, doing a "Save Image As..." and then e-mailing them to all you friends...

On a slightly different note, Microsoft comes in for a lot of stick, not just from the committed anti-Redmond brigade. Well I'm not going to jump on that bandwagon. In fact, I'm going to sing their praises, for kindly Mr Gates has released a free anti-spyware tool... and it's magnificent! This may be because MS just bought a company who make a good anti-spy product, rather than develop it themselves, but there you go. Either way, I recommend you download MS AntiSpyware at your earliest convenience. As well as finding and cleaning ad/spy/malware, trojans, keyloggers, etc, it also offers real-time protection to stop IE and the operating system being interfered with. Plus it runs nicely alongside such stalwarts as Ad-Aware and Spybot Search and Destroy without any problems or conflicts. So... download it, install it and use it.