Life in the Slow Lane

Welcome to late-noughties Britain (as defined by Certain Newspapers)

: cultured_janner; November 24th, 2009

Current Mood:: blah

Current Music:: Julian Cope, "Double Vegetation"

Picture the scene. You bravely set foot outside your front door and start walking down the street, stepping over the reams of homeless junkies and avoiding eye contact with the surly youths in hoodies who are congregated on the corner comparing asbos, as a teenage single mother hands her child a spliff to keep him quiet.

Some way down the street, a police officer is shaking money out of a motorist, oblivious to the asylum seeker in his state-funded Mercedes-Benz who speeds by on the way to his luxury council house. His colleague watches two ten-year-olds smashing up a parked car, waiting patiently for them to come of age before he can arrest them. A politically-correct social worker peers over his Guardian from a nearby doorway, ensuring the police aren’t breaking any laws.

Spotting a gang of alcopop-swilling schoolgirls approaching, you avoid a probable mugging by crossing the street and decide to catch the bus, except there’s an Asian youth sat at the back fiddling with his rucksack. He may be about to trigger a bomb, or he may be looking for his college books, but you’d rather not take the risk, so you carry on walking, past the school full of feral children and paedophilic teachers, past the community centre where a lottery-funded gay and lesbian theatre group are busy rehearsing for their revival of Oh! Calcutta, soon to be premiered before an audience of OAPs and children in a controversial double bill with The Romans In Britain, and past the pub full of round-the-clock unemployed binge-drinkers, all of whom have been cruelly deprived of their livelihoods by the Eastern European immigrants who are currently swamping the building site next door, where a twelve-storey 24-hour brothel and mega-casino will soon be replacing a recently-demolished cathedral, proving once and for all that this country has abandoned its traditional values and any notion of morality.

And so on, ad nauseam, repeat until blue in the face, etc…

You’ve probably read the above, or something very much like it, many times. It’s the kind of screeching hyperbole which often appears in Certain Newspapers when they want to scare their readership into believing this country is spiralling uncontrollably into an abyss of crime and misrule, or that we are being swamped by malevolent foreign types who want to destroy not only us but everything we believe in, or even that Boris Johnson, in an uncharacteristic fit of multicultural madness, has backed a proposal for all London boroughs to adopt Sharia Law.

Or you may have heard it in the pub or the workplace, because all of the above is, after all, “common knowledge”. You may even have heard it so many times, you’ve started to believe yourself the often-repeated claim that "we" are becoming marginalized in "our" country and can’t do anything about it unless we vote for one of those straight-up far-right parties who aren’t afraid to tell us the “truth”.

Except, of course, that the “truth” is nothing like the above.

Not that Britain today is necessarily a crime-free, all-inclusive utopia of green, green grass and wide smiles. In fact, of course it isn’t. It certainly has its fair share of social problems. But is it really anything like the lawless, anarchic, mismanaged hellhole Certain Newspapers and their commentators would, for whatever reason, like us to believe?

It’s true that lawless, anarchic hellholes do exist in the world. It’s equally true that Britain almost certainly isn’t one of them, despite the many isolated pockets of social strife which pock-mark the land. But ultimately, and rather boringly, Britain, like most of the world’s developed societies, seems to be sat somewhere very comfortably between utopia and anarchy, which is probably the best we can ever hope for.

How comfortably midway between the two you perceive Britain to be probably depends upon your age, race, class, education and possibly even your choice of newspaper. Not to mention your postcode. It’s reasonable to assume that you are more likely to have experienced at least some serious social problems first-hand if you live in L8 as opposed to, say, KT19. Perception is everything. It is also very individual and entirely dependent on circumstance. Someone from Toxteth is unlikely to have the same values, experiences or social outlook as someone who lives in Epsom.

With this in mind, the suggestion that we should all be striving for one vague common purpose seems a bit daft. One such vague common purpose seems to be the preservation of something called “our Britishness”, “British traditions” or “British values”.

I've often wondered what people actually mean when they talk of “Britishness”, “traditional British values”, “family values”, “traditional moral codes” and other such meaningless generalisations. Is “Britishness” really a tangible quality that we can clearly define in black-and-white terms? Who, after all, is to judge that “traditional British values” are any different from, let alone superior to, traditional French, Japanese or Venezuelan values?

To my mind, the only national characteristic that can be irretrievably associated with the British is probably contradiction. Britain is, if anything, a nation of contradictions: around 75% of British people describe themselves as “Christian”, but only 2% attend church on a regular basis; year on year, our children achieve more high grade GCSEs and A-Levels than previous years, yet employers and universities continue to express alarm at the perceived lack of basic literacy and numeracy skills in school leavers; we want the BBC to be independent, competitive and maintain high production and editorial standards, but we don’t want to give it public money to do this; we bemoan the rising number of teenage pregnancies, but don’t want sex education in our schools… oh, where does it end? Just what the hell do we want?!

Well, while we’re pondering that, perhaps we should consider the biggest contradiction of all: that some of the Certain Newspapers which endlessly espouse the defence of “traditional British values” are owned by an Australian-born American citizen who arguably holds more direct influence over the political direction of this country - a country he neither identifies with nor lives in - than any of the so-called unelected Eurocrats his newspapers so vehemently decry at his behest.

Maybe they’re right, maybe we do need to take this country back. But first, we need to identify the real enemy.

Tags: british, culture, hypocrisy, irony, media, policitical correctness, politics

The day the Mail failed

: cultured_janner; October 16th, 2009

Current Mood:: shocked

Current Music:: Chronical Messiah, "Bride On a Burning Cross"

Life throws up many "what the fuck" moments at us fragile, fleshy tubes. When I blearily logged into my Twitter account this morning, I found a link to a particularly hateful, foaming, bile-retching article on the Daily Mail website. Yeah, yeah, I know: so far, so normal.

But this one was special. Significant, even. It may well represent the straw that finally breaks the creaking back of the Mail's relaxed and cavalier attitude to the casual bigotry of some of its staff. I would call them "journalists", but even bloggers have to draw the line somewhere.

It was an article by Jan Moir - not a columnist known for her restraint when it comes to sneering at those who have the temerity not to be her - snappily entitled: "Why there was nothing 'natural' about Stephen Gately's death", referring to the recent sudden death of the Boyzone singer. I would post a link, but the Mail has since edited the article. And anyway, I don't want to give them the traffic, which is probably the only reason they allowed such a vile column to be published in the first place.

Now, I'm not a Boyzone fan by any stretch of the imagination. This can be easily proven by my tendency to run from the room with my hands over my ears whenever one of their songs invades my earspace. Nothing against any of the lads in particular, you understand, I just can't abide that god-awful noise they make. So, when the news of Stephen Gately's death was announced last weekend, all it elicited from me was a big shrug, before I got on with the more pressing business of squirting brown sauce into my bacon sandwich. Indeed, I hardly gave it another thought until I clicked on the link this morning.

I had to read the piece twice to take it in. It was easily the nastiest, most bilious piece I've read in that alleged newspaper for quite some time. Admittedly, as somebody who finds his natural home in the cosy pages of the Guardian, I haven't read anything in the Mail other than football news for a good while. Even so, even with the Mail's well-earned reputation for spite it was a real jaw-dropper, crammed full of clumsy innuendo, supposition and insinuation, but not many facts. Well, who needs the truth when all you want to do is perform a hatchet job on a not-yet-cold dead celeb?

The sole purpose of the article seems to be to lay the blame for Gately's death squarely - and specifically - at the door of his homosexuality and his "lifestyle". Moir even goes so far as to dispute the coroner's official verdict of "natural causes" in an accusing "what are they hiding?" tone. "Healthy and fit 33-year-old men don't just climb into their pyjamas and go to sleep on the sofa, never to wake up again, " asserts Moir. She doesn't actually offer any evidence to back up this interesting theory of hers, of course. It's just another part of her "nudge, nudge" act as she endeavours to make us believe that there is something a bit sordid about a gay man dying suddenly.

Shortly after the article was published, all hell broke loose on the web. The Mail's site was inundated with comments. Moir herself quickly became the number one trending topic on Twitter, attracting all manner of mostly negative comments, some polite and restrained, others, well, not so. The Press Complaints Commission website even had to give the many complainers their own page so they could keep the rest of the site operational. Although as the Mail's editor, Paul Dacre, is chairman of the PCC's Editor's Code Committee (isn't that a bit like hiring Ian Brady as a child minder?), they'd be naive to expect a positive result from their action.

Moir later published a clarification of her article - as opposed to a retraction or, heaven forfend, an apology - claiming she had been misinterpreted and misunderstood. Well, call me a bit of a thicky if you like, but I find it difficult to interpret phrases like "...under the carapace of glittering hedonistic celebrity, the ooze of a very different and more dangerous lifestyle has seeped out for all to see..." in any way other than negative. And as she was writing about a gay man, it also appears to be a condemnation of what she sees as the gay "lifestyle", which in Jan Moir's universe is clearly all about hi-NRG dance music, sleazy clubs, glow-sticks and crystal meth, and nothing at all to do with monogamy and loving, stable relationships.

As a supposedly professional journalist, it's not unreasonable to presume that she has at least a little facility with words, so her excuses don't hold water. She could very easily have selected words and phrases which were less open to "misunderstanding" or "misinterpretation" (page 1 of "How To Be A Journalist") and this whole sorry episode could have been avoided. But no, she was playing up to the perceived prejudices of her readership and badly misjudged it.

Moir seems to believe that the complaints about her alleged homophobia are all part of an "orchestrated campaign" to demonize her. Not dissimilar to the orchestrated campaigns the Daily Mail often instigates against something it disagrees with then, especially if that something happens to be the BBC, for example. Could you imagine the Mail's response if a BBC journalist had fallen foul of public opinion in such a way? The Mail, as is its wont, would make a meal of it and then come back for seconds.

So used to playing the rabble rouser, the Mail has been bitten on the arse by its own tactics. It's hard to resist at least a little schadenfreude. The Mail has been getting away with this kind of hypocrisy for far too long. Not that I expect it to learn anything from this. In fact, I fully expect a scare story in the Mail a week from now about how Twitter can give you AIDS.

Tags: bbc, bigotry, daily mail, hate, homophobia, hypocrisy, media, stephen gately, twitter

Obama's unhealthy opposition

: cultured_janner; September 13th, 2009

Current Mood:: worried

Current Music:: Teenage Fanclub, "Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From"

I've always made it very clear that I'm no fan of the Tories. I don't like them because, basically, they seem like a bunch of arseholes, but that's probably unfair. They don't believe what I believe, and I don't believe what they believe. That's really all there is to it. That's why I would only ever consider the possibility of imagining the notion of even thinking about voting for them if I had been repeatedly beaten about the head with a large brick for 37 years without respite. I really would have to be that befuddled. And even then, I'd have to think twice. And probably close one eye so I could get my 'X' in the correct box.

My dislike of the Tories may seem an irrational hatred to some, especially those who live in places like Beaconsfield or Henley-on-Thames, but there you go. That's just the cloth I'm cut from. Tories are as much products of their backgrounds as I am of mine, which is why we believe the things we do. I'm not going to apologise for it and neither are they. And why in the blazes should we? That's what healthy democracy is all about. And when the Tories are elected back to power next year, while I won't exactly be thrilled, I'm sure I'll be able to accept it without the need to chuck my rattle at the wall and question David Cameron's legitimacy to govern.

For all their faults, the Tories are nowhere near as bad as their American brethren, the Republican Party. They really are a bunch of arseholes. These guys make the Tories seem like rabid Trotskyites. It would be hard to find another a group of people so full of spite and venom, and so willing to express it in as vocal and shameless a manner they possibly can, like someone dropping a dog turd in a salad bowl and then standing there telling everyone what they just did, challenging them to be shocked. Which is why political debate in the United States is often reduced to a public slanging match in which the person who can shout the loudest is perceived to be the "winner".

This is what the current healthcare reform debate in the US has already been reduced to. Aided and abetted by their collaborators in the right wing media, the Republicans and others with vested interests (mainly in the healthcare, insurance and pharmaceutical industries) have been spouting off all kinds of hyperbolic ranting about Barack Obama's "socialist" plans, whilst wandering around with their hands over their ears going, "La la la la, we're not listening!" whenever anybody tries to confront them with actual facts, and generally working very hard to convince the American public, via a very effective misinformation campaign that Dr Goebbels would be proud of, that universal healthcare is nothing less than evil and un-American.

So, based on this performance, the Republicans and their supporters evidently believe that anyone without health insurance deserves to die. And as most of those without health insurance tend to be the poorer or more vulnerable members of American society, the message from the American right is very clear - fuck the poor.

Which is ironic because, since Reagan, it has been these same low-income, blue-collar families who make up a significant portion of the Republicans' support base, and who have ensured a Republican president in the White House for 20 of the last 30 years. Although, following George W. Bush's total and utter inactivity in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, the penny finally dropped that the Republicans honestly and emphatically didn't give a flying shit about the poor, and the nation's voters responded accordingly.

But just because the Republicans are out of power, that doesn't mean they are powerless. They are still quite capable of making lots of noise in the US media, much of which is still slavishly (and unfashionably) right wing, and releasing all manner of mischievous gremlins into the machinery of American democracy. Having lost Congress in 2006 and the presidency in 2008, the Republicans have been left with little option but to become the Spoilers-in-Chief of the democratic process and attempt to filibuster the new administration into impotence. It's a role they have taken to with the all the histrionic petulance of a child who has had its favourite toy taken away.

Right wing commentators, most notably the clearly certifiable Glenn Beck, have been working overtime in their continual and apparently unchecked attempts to smear the president, making a sick mockery of the First Amendment. Although amusingly, they do seem to be blissfully unaware of the contradiction of attempting to portray Obama as a "nazi communist".

From a British perspective, this is all very entertaining - "wow, look at those crazy wingnuts doing something crazy again!" - but it's also very scary, not least because a worrying amount of people seem to be absorbing this hysterical guff. And such hysteria breeds further hysteria, until we reach a point where rationality goes out of the window and an entire country becomes ungovernable. Don't laugh, it could happen. While I don't believe for a moment the American right, mischievous as it is, is actively encouraging anarchy and misrule, that's clearly how some unhinged people are interpreting their message, and it could become downright bloody dangerous.

Generally, I think it's healthy for people to distrust their government. But when that distrust becomes almost pathological - and perhaps even psychopathic - it can often lead to serious problems in the democratic process itself. While most democratically-elected governments don't ask for or expect 100% trust from 100% of the population, they do request that they at least be allowed to get on with the job they were elected to do without too much interference - if we don't like the way they're doing things, we can have our say in the polling booth.

But of course, it's never that simple. There are always people with agendas, from single-issue lunatics to media outlets with autocratic proprietors to mollify and interests to protect. Then there's that amorphous worldwide focus group we call the blogsphere. Everyone has an opinion and wants their say. The Republicans, although still smarting from what was a pretty decisive defeat, are far from out of the game. So despite Obama's landslide last November, and the fact that, even despite widespread opposition to his healthcare reforms, he still enjoys approval ratings of over 50%, he clearly has a hard slog ahead of him if he is to become the historic, reforming president most of the American public - and the world at large - is still willing him to be.

In his inauguration speech, Obama famously offered the hand of friendship to Iran and other nominal "enemies", if only they could "unclench their fists". By the looks of it, Iran will unclench its fist long before the Republicans ever do.

Tags: bigotry, hate, health, media, obama, politics, right wing, usa

Railing against the zeitgeist... well, someone has to do it!

: cultured_janner; July 25th, 2009

Current Mood:: quixotic

Current Music:: Julian Cope, "Sunspots"

Perversely for someone with my left-tilting sensibilities, I'm rather looking forward to the prospect of a Conservative government next year.

Not because I believe for a moment that the Tories have changed into a new, all-inclusive, eminently electable political entity - Christ, I'm not that dumb - nor because I think David Cameron is just the chap to lead Britain into a new strutting era of total Tory dominance. I happen not to think that, which might make me very unfashionable, but there you go.

It's just that, when the Tories are elected back into government next year - as they surely will be, barring some spectacular disaster, like the electorate suddenly waking the fuck up, which doesn't seem likely - it'll be OK for me to hate the government again. And that's something I have so missed over the past 12 years.

I still have very fond memories of that wonderful night in 1997 when Labour swept aside 18 years of Tory rule with one flash of Tony Blair's grin. It was a truly momentous occasion, especially for those of us partial to a bit of schadenfreude. I watched transfixed through the night as government minister after government minister was swept away by the great Blair tsunami, culminating in the still glorious sight of Michael Portillo's smirk remaining firmly fixed on his face, while every other molecule in his body fell on its side like a grandfather clock with an elephant nailed to it. It made the preceding 18 years of hell almost worthwhile.

And next year, we're probably going to see exactly the same thing in reverse. The political map will turn blue, and Labour might not even be returned as the official opposition. Which is sad. But they've only themselves to blame. They promised us so much, and although they initially delivered, they became fatally sidetracked by Iraq and a little too willing to kiss America's arse than was palatable. I'm all for a strong pan-Atlantic alliance, but the Blair-Bush relationship was harrowing to behold. Blair was Waylon Smithers to George W. Bush's Mr Burns, and it embarrassed the nation. Gordon Brown, to his credit, was a little more assertive in his dealings with Bush.

In 1997, I was a Labour supporter, and had been since I was old enough to vote. I'm not any more. But I still don't hate Labour, even though they've long crossed the political centre line, headed rightwards and disappointed the hell out of me. I'm still, I suppose, sympathetic towards them to an extent, even though they haven't had my vote since the invasion of Iraq, like some people continue to follow an old rock band even though it's years since they did anything good and all the dynamic, creative members have long since buggered off.

Likewise, I've always carried a healthy dislike for the Tories. Not because they're posh - Labour's front bench is hardly an advert for social mobility - but because they have always had, along with the poshness, an unpleasant hint of arrogance about them, a sense of entitlement coupled with a total lack of humility. They're the political equivalent of the Australian cricket team - bad losers and even worse winners.

True, Labour have also been very arrogant over the past 12 years, but that's just the arrogance that comes with being in power. When the power is lost, so will the arrogance be. With the Tories, it's inborn. They just don't know how to behave any other way. And the closer they come to being in power, the more unapologetically smug and sneery they become.

David Cameron bleats on about how his new cuddly, touchy-feely Tory party is a world away from the "nasty" party of old. The Tories, he repeatedly insists, have changed. But they haven't, not really. Neither have they needed to; Labour has done the job for them. When the Tories win a landslide victory next year, it won't be because the electorate has any particular faith in them, it will just be because they want to see the back of Labour so much, they will even sup with the same devil who has betrayed them time and time again in the past.

But at least non-Tories like me will once again have a government they can actively despise. I really can't wait, it's too wonderful!

Tags: arrogant, david cameron, election, gordon brown, labour, politics, smug, tony blair, tory

The Accidental Racist?

: cultured_janner; February 7th, 2009

Current Mood:: irate

Current Music:: Bauhaus, "The Sanity Assassin"

Oh lore, here we go again, another hyper-sensitive "BBC Thought Police" row for the Daily Mail to get its belly-warmers in a twist about.

Notwithstanding that, as a journalist and as the daughter of a once-prominent and often controversial politician, Carol Thatcher should know much better than to describe a black tennis player as a "golliwog" under any circumstances, it is the fact that she said it all, irrespective of whether or not it was said "in private", which bothers me. It says a great deal about the woman's upbringing, doesn't it?

In a nutshell, white, middle class and conservative.

And by the time her evil hag of a mother had become Prime Minister, Carol was already an adult and fully socialised within her social stratum. But even so, has her life really been so sheltered that she hasn't learned anything during the last 30 years? Doesn't she watch TV or read newspapers? Hasn't she felt the prevailing winds of change which have shaped social attitudes irrevocably during that time - the sort of social attitudes which have rightly made describing a person of colour as a "golliwog", whether in jest or otherwise, a big no-no?

If she isn't a racist - and I'm perfectly prepared to accept that she isn't - then she must be either very naive or a total bloody idiot. That she said such a crass thing in the green room at Television Centre in front of educated, intelligent people would suggest the latter. And the fact that she still refuses to apologise publicly shows that she has certainly inherited her mother's pig-headed stubbornness.

The golliwog isn't just some harmless anachronism from the recent past which has merely fallen victim to changing fashions and over-sensitive political correctness. It is a very unflattering caricature of black people which has historical connections to minstrelsy and slavery.  That paragon of social equality, Enid Blyton, made the golliwog the villain in her Noddy books - a dark-hearted interloper which would cause trouble and steal at every opportunity. A pretty unambigious metaphor if ever there was one. Thankfully, we've moved on a bit since the 1950s.  Well, some of us have.

The right-wing press is falling over itself to defend Carol Thatcher whilst railing against the BBC's decision to drop her from The One Show (although they are still using her on "other projects"), whining about the "insidious PC culture" and shouting down anyone who dares to suggest that freedom of speech and thought shouldn't extend to casual racism, privately or otherwise.  Which really says everything you need to know about the right-wing press.

The BBC didn't over-react.  Ms Thatcher's remarks were made on BBC property, a workplace, by an employee. The BBC took the same action any other responsible employer would have taken. In the event, I think the BBC has been fairly even-handed.

And if Carol Thatcher hadn't learned anything about modern social attitudes before, she certainly has now.

Tags: bbc, bigotry, daily mail, media, political correctness, racism, right wing, television

Wossy and Wussell - Wot went wong?

: cultured_janner; November 1st, 2008

Current Mood:: contemplative

Current Music:: Midnight Oil, "Blue Sky Mine"

And so ends Manuelgate!

Naturally, the BBC had initially hoped that this would all blow over with the minimum of fuss, but it wasn't to be. Everything had seemed to have been resolved amicably, until the Daily Mail decided to mobilise its army of brain-dead and highly suggestible readers, who dutifully swamped the BBC with complaints about a radio show the vast majority of them hadn't even listened to - and this more than a week after the original broadcast.

The Daily Mail is very good at making lots of noise about relatively minor things, especially where the BBC is concerned. Although that doesn't excuse Brand and Ross, who fucked up badly in this instance, not least because they gave the BBC's detractors a huge stick to beat it with. As a direct result of the fuss made by the Mail, Russell Brand and Lesley Douglas (the Radio 2 controller) have now resigned and Jonathan Ross has had probably the most severe reprimand of his entire career (and he's had a few!). From the BBC-hating Daily Mail's point of view, of course, this is a "result". Although obviously, they'll be disppointed in missing out on the hat-trick, because Ross wasn't sacked.

This is a prime example of the disproportionate power the British press can wield.

Undoubtedly, Brand and Ross did overstep the mark, not least because they forgot the golden rule of comedy, which is that a joke should be, in one way or another, critical. A joke is only funny if the target is deserving of derision - which is the reason why most prank humour of this kind leaves me cold, because the victim is usually unassuming and innocent. In the real world, we call this "bullying". On TV and radio, it's "entertainment".

As somebody with a sense of humour which often goes beyond the pale and into the realms of the inappropriate, I just don't think that harrassing an innocent, elderly, much-loved actor with lewd details of his grand-daughter's sex-life is particularly witty. The real fault lies with Brand's producer, who should have noticed this, but his worthless neck has evidently been saved by Lesley Douglas selflessly falling on her sword.

Unfortunately, during his time at Radio 2, Russell Brand has achieved a reputation for being a bit of a prima donna and having any producer who had the temerity to say "no" to him promptly replaced, meaning each successive producer was increasingly reluctant to censor Brand. Which is why the BBC now finds itself in this awkward position and heads have had to roll.

Of course, the only reason Jonathan Ross - who I've always liked - got off so lightly is because the BBC didn't want to sack him and allow Channel 4 or ITV to snap him up, which they almost certainly would have, and on a greatly reduced salary too. If he had been a lesser animal in the BBC's menagerie, he'd have gone along with Brand.

But it should still be noted that if the obsessively BBC-hating Daily Mail hadn't poured petrol on the fire, this would have all petered out without any fuss whatsoever. Andrew Sachs had apparently already accepted apologies from Brand and Ross before the row kicked off, and indeed, before the Mail broke the story, there had only been two complaints about the item (one of those presumably being from Andrew Sachs).

So, a good result for the Daily Mail which, when it comes to kicking the BBC, is always at the front of the queue with the biggest pair of boots.

Tags: bbc, comedy, culture, daily mail, jonathan ross, media, radio, russell brand, sachsgate

Politics and Triskaidekaphobia... or the real reason why Gordon Brown is doomed!

: cultured_janner; May 22nd, 2008

Current Mood:: gloomy

Current Music:: Iron Maiden, "Phantom Of The Opera"

And to think he started off so well, riding on that wonderful wave of post-Blair euphoria which gripped the nation - "Yes, we're finally shot of the grinning lunatic!".  And nobody was more euphoric than Gordon Brown himself. Although we wouldn't have known it, as Gordon doesn't express himself emotionally in quite that way. Or indeed, in any way.

It's nearly a year now since Gordon Brown took the Labour Party leadership unopposed, and thereby the reins of the country, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, surged ahead in the polls, solely on account of his not being Tony Blair and not having a wife with "opinions" and an unfortunate rictus grin.

Against all predictions, the public welcomed Brown as an antidote to a decade of Blairite control freakery and soundbite politics. We knew he was the archetypal "dour" Scotsman, a little lacking in personality, perhaps, and a little cold and aloof - the anti-Blair, in every sense - but on the face of it, a decent bloke and a serious, hard-working politician. It was what we needed after the glitz and showbiz of the Blair years - a return to serious, dull, bread-and-butter politics; we were certain of it. A year down the line, this serious, intellectual side of Brown is now seen as one of his biggest liabilities. How fickle we are...

So Labour is now trailing the Tories by at least 15% in most polls, even those produced by Labour-friendly pollsters.  Labour has been utterly decimated in its heartlands in the recent council elections, the redoubtable Ken Livingstone has lost control of London to a mop-haired fop with no mute button on his gob, and the Tories now look set to win, for the first time in aeons, the former Labour stronghold of Crewe & Nantwich, made vacant by the recent death of Gwyneth Dunwoody, who was a fine example of everything a Labour politician should be if ever there was one. The once fiercely loyal Labour voters of Crewe are so sick of Labour now, even parachuting in Dunwoody's daughter as a candidate won't help them win this formerly safe seat.  It has all gone, to be blunt, tits up, and leaves us facing the very real and depressing prospect of a Conservative government being elected in 2010.

And worst of all, now they have had a sniff of the possibility of power, the Tories now feel confident enough to once again wear that egregious perma-smirk on their faces (think Michael Portillo, circa 1992) which made us despise them so much during the 80s and 90s. Look at David Cameron now, compared to a year ago. A year ago, he looked benign and concerned, now he looks like the cat who not only got the cream, but also stole the milk float. It's unbearable.

It's all very easy to blame Gordon Brown for all of this - in fact, it's the obvious thing to do - but I don't blame him entirely; he's just been unfortunate. The world economic downturn has finally hit these shores, as it was always going to eventually. It just happened on his watch, that's all, so it's "his fault". He's made a few key misjudgments, of course: abolishing the 10p tax band being a particular howler, and, tragically, completely avoidable, and allowing speculation to rise to fever point that he was about to call a snap election last autumn, when he clearly had no intention of doing so. Yes, it was fun watching the Tories squirm and he did panic them into playing all their aces at their party conference, but it was always going to come back and bite Labour in the backside if the public quite liked those aces. Which it did. Now it's David Cameron who is laughing, probably all the way to Downing Street.

But overall, I couldn't honestly say that Brown has been completely useless, although this is indeed the public perception thanks to a mostly hostile press - and even the Guardian has been sticking the boot in recently, so the Labour Party knows it is deeply in the shit. But it's also a case, I think, of a political cycle coming to an inevitable end. Brown is just the innocent victim of an inescapable historical trend. It's the 13 year curse.

In June 2010, the final possible date for the next General Election, Labour will have been in power for 13 years, and 13 years is an absolute eternity in politics. It also generally marks the point where long-serving ruling parties finally run out of steam. Take the Tories of the 1950s and 1960s.  Swept back into power in 1951, by 1964 they were a joke, and not even a very good one. Or more recently, the Thatcher/Major era, 18 years in all. 18 long, hard, depressing years... but remember, Major wasn't meant to win in 1992. The polls told us so. But he did win - just - and presided over another five, fairly ineffectual years as a lame duck, his authority routinely undermined by his own cabinet.  Is this really what Gordon Brown wants? Is it what Labour wants? Might it not actually be beneficial for them to lose in 2010, rather than win narrowly and be emphatically hammered in 2015?  Better to have a few years out of power to regroup and refocus, than spend another 18 years as political pariahs.

Eventually, all ruling parties lose elections, and the longer that party remains in power, then, often, the more decisive the defeat will be. This is why Labour has no chance. They've run out of useful ideas - hell, they used up most of their good ones in their first one-and-a-half Parliaments, before they became fatally distracted by Iraq and gave up benevolent social democracy for rampant authoritarianism. Even in 2003, the tide was starting to turn against them. It doesn't really matter what they do now, public fatigue is Labour's real enemy, and at the moment, the public is just totally, inexorably pissed off with them. It doesn't even matter that the Tories don't have any real alternative policies to offer. Or indeed anything to offer except a smug leader who has read Tony Blair's Big Book of Making Yourself Palatable to the Electorate.

Brown is fucked, Labour is fucked, and so are we. But that's politics.

Tags: david cameron, election, gordon brown, labour, politics, tony blair, tory, triskaidekaphobia

An inconsequential gripe... but hell, that's what life's all about!

: cultured_janner; October 13th, 2007

Current Mood:: cynical

Current Music:: Fiction Factory, "All Or Nothing"

At the risk of sounding like Charlie Brooker, this week I will be mostly having a pop at television channel branding.

My problem is this: on a Saturday evening, if I'm able to resist the lure of the pub, which these days I increasingly am, as my local has gone down the toilet to such an extent that I now consider it a personal triumph if I emerge with most of my teeth and both ears still attached, I usually just order a pizza, open a bottle of red and stare at something on the telly like UKTV G2, which is really just like UKTV Gold, but with more bad language and less Only Fools And Horses. It's like BBC2 on a Friday night from about three years ago, as that seems to be where it plucks most of its programmes from. Which, if you like the sort of TV shows I do, is by and large a Good Thing.

From Monday, G2 will be called "Dave". Not "UKTV Dave", or "DaveTV" (which I'm sure is only because David Lee Roth had it copyrighted), but just "Dave". I find this a little worrying.

UKTV's reasoning behind this bizarre nomenclature is that "everybody knows someone called Dave". They claim it will be more palatable to the 16-34 male demographic which, they claim, is not catered for very well on the digital platform. Well quite... I mean, there's only BBC3, Bravo, Men & Motors, Movies 4 Men and similar fare for the Nuts-reading members of society.

The last thing I thought was required on digital TV was another lads channel. Heigh ho. But UKTV insists there is a need here, and so have affirmed their desire to cater for this demographic, with the alluring promise of more re-runs of Two Pints Of Lager And A Packet Of Crisps in order to create a really strong brand. And part of that brand creation apparently involves renaming the channel "Dave".

So, "Dave", eh?

Which (hopefully soon-to-be-collecting-their-P45) creative genius came up with that one? It all seems a bit 90s to me, not to mention a little desperate, and wreaks of trying a little too hard to say, 'Hey, we're all bonkers mad, we are! Look, we've called our channel "Dave", hur hur!'

The point being, if you have to tell people you're a bit wacky, zany and offbeat, then you are probably anything but wacky, zany and offbeat, and more likely to be deathly dull and saner than a pair of carpet slippers.

"The home of witty banter" indeed.

Not that I want to judge the channel before it begins. G2 is currently one of my favourite digital channels, but as it seems that the programme line-up is going to be broadly similar to what it is now, I doubt that I or many other viewers will be fleeing in horror, despite the stupid name.

But just for the record, the "16-34 male demographic" needs more re-runs of Two Pints... like it needs nails up its backside - and BBC3 already seems to have that particular base covered anyway. The re-runs of Two Pints..., that is, not nails up the backside... anyway...

UKTV says it needs to create a "strong brand", which suggests that they don't think G2 is, but I thought the UKTV family was already a very strong brand. They're certainly among the most watched channels on the digital platform, anyway, and with the pick of the cream of recent BBC programmes, why shouldn't they be? It's a dreadful cliché, but I think the old adage of "If it ain't broke..." is particularly apt here. The whole concept of "Dave" screams "gimmick" to me, and rather than suggest a strong brand, is more like a throwaway gag that will wear very thin, very quickly.

Another thing I don't think UKTV have considered is what happens when/if David "Call Me Dave" Cameron becomes Prime Minister and Dave becomes the least cool name on the planet... after all, nobody is queueing up to call their TV channel "Tony" or "Gordon"... Also, will other UKTV channels be changing their names to suit their supposed demographics? Will Gold be renamed "Barbara", for example? Or will we see Documentary become "Bob"? I mean, where will it all end?!

It's good to see that the channel is going on Freeview, though. It's just a shame that UKTV has decided to shoot itself in the foot to celebrate...

And it's just a thought, but history has shown that when niche channels like this get a dramatic revamp, they usually end up on the scrapheap within a year...

But hey - prove me wrong, guys, prove me wrong!

Tags: channel branding, culture, dave, desperate, foreboding, idiotic, television, uktv

Satire - gone but not forgotten

: cultured_janner; September 10th, 2007

Current Mood:: curious

Current Music:: The Outfield, "Your Love"

I'm wondering this merry morning what has happened to satire. In an age when we have any number of juicy targets just ripe for a satirical plucking, there seems to be little desire to attack. Where the British used to be defined by their rude, anarchic and seditious sense of humour, they now seem to be increasingly defined by their vapid timidity and unwillingness to take the bull by the horns, wrestle it to the ground and give it a good buggering. Is this what ten years of the Blair-Brown hegemony has done to us?

There are some who believe the British have lost their satirical edge because modern comedians have lost their balls. I don't know if that's really the case - maybe they just don't see the point in satire any more. Part of the problem, as I see it, is that our society has actually gone beyond satire. It's just impossible to take the piss, because so much in modern society simply defies belief - the Blair years have just drained us of all resistance! Satire is no longer effective as a critical tool because so much of it is just stating the bleedin' obvious.

The satire boom of the 80s did help create a political culture where it was harder to "get away with it", but all this ultimately did was give us a defiantly hard-nosed breed of politician who doesn't really care if he gets away with it or not, so long as he makes a few quid in the process. But it isn't just politics. Popular culture has also gone beyond the pale.

The sort of TV and news programmes we get today are eerily similar to those Chris Morris was making some 10-12 years ago. It seems that somebody in TV realised that the most effective way to undermine satire is to actually make TV which confirms the worst fears of the satirists. Although with that said, with the current problems at the BBC and other broadcasters regarding honesty, the chickens might finally be coming home to roost. I won't hold my breath, though.

20 years ago, when Spitting Image was at its most brutal, the public actually took an interest in politics and current affairs - due in part to shows like Spitting Image, which was not only funny and entertaining, but also made the audience think. The ordinary Joe in the street at least knew who the main political players were, even if they didn't have an interest in politics. This isn't the case today. The public at large has become increasingly disengaged from politics which, as far as most politicans are concerned, is all well and dandy, as public apathy helps preserve the status quo and keeps the gravy train on the rails.

Meanwhile, we have sleepwalked into a new puritan age where our nannies in Westminster pass legislation to regulate our behaviour in every way. Because it's for our own good, naturally. Yes, these are the things that satirists should attacking, but frankly, in today's political climate, who is going to listen?

All we have now is Private Eye, which for years has been as smug and complacent as those it purports to mock.

It all makes me want to stand outside the Houses of Parliament and moon furiously. Except these days, I'd probably get a bullet up my arse for my trouble.

Tags: comedy, complacency, culture, politics, satire, television

The obligatory and sadly predictable "Room 101" entry

: cultured_janner; June 26th, 2007

Current Mood:: blank

Current Music:: Kate Bush, "Hello Earth"

There comes a time in every blog when, usually because the blogger is utterly bereft of intelligent or original ideas, there has to be an entry like this. I apologize in advance. But it is a jolly cathartic process. To the uninitiated, in George Orwell's 1984, "Room 101" is the place where "the worst thing in the world" is kept. And with that being the case, I'd like to nominate the following:

Mayonnaise: This is, without a doubt, the most repulsive substance known to humankind, and releasing the stench of it near me is still the most effective way of getting me to leave the room. It has the look, texture, smell and taste of baby's vomit (and yes, I have tasted baby's vomit) and does absolutely nothing for any food you care to drown in it. But what I hate most is, when I order a sandwich in a cafe or snack bar, they insist on squirting a huge dollop of the stuff on it, even when I specifically ask them not to. Evidently, there's some huge mayo mountain in the world which needs to be depleted asap...

The films of John Hughes: Does this really need an explanation?

Cornwall: Or more specifically, the Cornish people. Nothing wrong with a little local prejudice. Especially against this bunch of inbred malcontents who think they're a country just because they have their own language (a dead tongue, spoken by about three people, which is actually just a bastardised version of Welsh with a Cornish accent). And I fail to see why a county should be celebrated just because it can't make pies properly. Enough of this seditious "independence" talk - send in the troops!

The Daily Mail: This psychopathic snotrag which masquerades as a "newspaper" really only hates three things: the working class, The BBC and "The Left", an apparently omniscient and shadowy collective which encompasses anything or anyone who believes in racial and/or sexual equality, inclusivity, diversity, multiculturalism, progressive or social democratic values, tolerance and compassion, and will find any excuse, no matter how tenuous, to attack them all. Often at the same time. Basically, if you're not a white middle class conservative, you're the Enemy and on a cynical crusade to undermine Traditional British Values, whatever the yellow buggery flip they are. Makes Fox News look fair and balanced.

Celebrity offspring becoming famous: There should be a UN resolution banning the children of celebrities from becoming celebrities themselves. If you disagree, I have only this to say: Kelly Osbourne. There. You see? Not very nice is it? In the old days, celebrity offspring used to just live happily on their parents' wealth and stay the hell out of the limelight, aside from a few innocuous tabloid stories when they inevitably went into rehab in their teens. But that was all, and it rarely got too out of hand. Now, as well as going into rehab, which I suppose is their god-given right as spoilt brats, they feel it necessary to inflict themselves on the public as actors, pop-stars, artists, fashion designers or anything else that doesn't actually involve getting a proper job. I suppose the only positive thing that comes of this is that they prove conclusively that talent is very rarely hereditary. It's a tragic fact, but for every Liza Minnelli, you get 250,000 Lily Allens. Go figure.

OK, that's it. I'm all better now.

Tags: celebrity, comedy, cornwall, culture, daily mail, hate, list, mayonnaise, room 101

Splitters!

: cultured_janner; June 15th, 2007

Current Mood:: cynical

Current Music:: The Cure, "Homesick"

The Cornish National Liberation Army. Sounds like something out of Monty Python, doesn't it? I suppose because we generally view the Cornish as being quite a jolly, welcoming and, above all, unthreatening bunch, we can't imagine that there might be some malcontents down there who resent "foreign" investments in their "country" to the extent that they will make threats to destroy such interloping enterprises.

I know I shouldn't really poke fun, and I know the police take these threats very seriously, whether they are made by some crackpot fringe group or by bona fide terrorists, but I couldn't help laughing when I heard about the CNLA's threats to burn down Rick Stein's restaurant and attack anyone displaying the "imperialist and tainted" St George flag.

I just can't, for the life of me, imagine a Cornish terrorist. I mean, what can we expect from this committed band of lunatics... sorry, nationalists? Will we be checking our Ginsters pasties for suspect devices? Should we anticipate the prospect of suicide morris dancers at our village fetes? I mean, where will it all end?

I must confess to a slight prejudice here as I am Devon born and bred and, as you might imagine, we proud Devonians don't enjoy the best of relations with our bolshy neighbours from across the Tamar. Indeed, living as I do in Plymouth, we have a large amount of Cornish immigrants who cross the Tamar Bridge in their droves in search of work, new-fangled electronic gadgetry and other brightly-coloured trinkets, or just a good night out. I've always considered it significant that, when crossing the Tamar Bridge, you have to pay get into Devon, but not the other way around.

Having visited Cornwall on many occasions, frankly, I don't like the place at all, and will always avoid going there if at all possible.  There's nothing they have that we don't have here in Devon (apart from some insane belief that they're not part of England): sandy beaches, rugged moorland, tranquil countryside, picturesque working harbours, fine real ales, cream teas, effeminate blacksmiths waving hankies about in village squares, rampant property prices, we've got the lot.

In fact, I've always been of the opinion that Cornwall should have been towed out into the Atlantic and left to its own devices years ago. If you're coming down this way on your hols, save your petrol and give Cornwall a miss. It's a dump.

But enough of my blatant racism.

The CNLA are, I think, in their dangerously haphazard manner, attempting to make a serious point about locals being priced out of the area by no-good townies. I know, because we have exactly the same problem in Devon. In fact, the problem is rife in picturesque regions up and down the country.  The only difference is that we in Devon haven't threatened to torch local businesses owned by "outsiders". There is a fine line to be drawn here. Outside investment in any area's economy should be welcomed, but we should also protect, where necessary, our local product and heritage. And as for property prices, it seems unfair that in an area that has some of the lowest wages in the country, coupled with the highest council tax and water charges, property prices are being kept unfairly high by wealthy townies who buy up charming little cottages in picturesque villages up and down the region, and leave them standing empty for most of the year.

What's happening in Cornwall and Devon, in fact, is a microcosm of a problem that the whole country is facing. The problem being that, in modern Britain, everything is for sale to the highest bidder, wherever they may come from, and when you establish that kind of free market economy, you will find very quickly that the local product, once cheap and widely available, has become prohibitively expensive and rarer than a wrinkle on Joan Collins' arse. Hence, we start relying more and more on cheap imports, while the indigenous producers, unable to compete, all go down the pan one by one.

While the CNLA may well be a bunch of single-agenda fringe loonies, the point they are making needs to be seriously addressed.

Tags: cornwall, devon, gentrification, loonies, politics, terrorism

I don't care if Nanny does know best, she can still fuck off and mind her own bloody business!

: cultured_janner; June 13th, 2007

Current Mood:: aggravated

Current Music:: The Handsome Family, "So Much Wine"

I'll be 35 in four days. And as such, I feel I am now old enough to make certain decisions on my own and preferably without governmental interference: if I want to fill my body with various poisons, carcinogens and saturated fats, then why in the sacred name of Keith Richards shouldn't I? I may, in future, become a burden on the NHS as a result, but as a payer of income tax and national insurance, I consider that my right. Although, obviously, that's far from my intention.

These days we all have the information at our fingertips to make an intelligent and mature decision, we all know what's good for us and what's bad for us, we all know exactly what we should have more of and what we should ease off a bit. Most people, I think, are like me in that they spend their lives trying to perform a complex balancing act between doing what's good for them and what they enjoy.

Some don't manage it and end up going too far one way or the other: the lazy, obese, chain-smoking alcoholics among us are really the flip-side of the same coin as the ultra-obsessive teetotaller who eats nothing but carrots and sesame seeds and jogs to work. We can all sometimes go too far one way or the other. The trick is catching ourselves before we topple into ill-health and insanity.

I'd normally applaud the fact that we have a government which takes public health seriously. Hike up taxes on ciggies, alcohol and fatty foods and I, for one, wouldn't complain too bitterly. Accepting that what they were trying to achieve was for the common good, I would pay the extra tax on my guilty pleasures good naturedly (albeit through gritted teeth). It's no biggy. It seems that this, however, is no longer enough. We appear to have sleepwalked into a new puritan age, where every such pleasure is frowned upon with a disapproving cluck from our nannies in Westminster.

Take the smoking ban in public places. I, for one reason or another, have never smoked in my life. Now this, you might think, would give me cause to be a little smug about smoking being verboten in pubs from July 1st. But no, I'm totally opposed to the ban. I'm not one of those odious non-smokers who, if someone lights up nearby, sighs, tuts and wafts the smoke away in an overly-histrionic manner that would put Larry Olivier to shame.  Cigarette smoke has never bothered me. Probably because almost everyone I know and care about smokes like a chimney.

I may be odd, but I like a pub to have a smoky atmosphere. It gives a pub an intangible quality of pubness that makes one proud to be a British drunkard.  I like walking into that yellowy-grey gloom and taking a deep breath. That thick hum of fags and beer - it's what pubs are all about. OK, there are downsides.  It makes your clothes smell like, well, a pub. But I do wash my clothes from time to time. I advise others to do so - it really makes a difference. And passive smoking is, I suppose, a potentially serious problem, but then so is inhaling traffic fumes every time I walk down the street. Everywhere you go, some selfish bastard is trying to poison you. At least in the pub, you can enjoy yourself while they do it.

But not any more, alas. The Nanny-General, our illustrious health secretary Patricia Hewitt - who strikes me as a woman who probably hasn't set foot in a pub since she was a student - has seen to that.  Thanks to her, English pubs will now smell, if reports from Scotland and Ireland are to be believed, like body odour and farts. Mmm, lovely.

And on the subject of alcohol, just where the fuck does this government get off warning those of us who drink wine in, I might add, the privacy of our own homes, that we may be damaging our health and that we really should consider cutting down, as more than two bottles of wine a week might exceed the government's recommended ingestion of alcohol units, which is, I think, 21.  21 units of alcohol a week?!  Do I look like a fucking monk?! If I want a couple of glasses of the old vino when I get home from a hard day's taxpaying, then that's what I will jolly well have, with or without the express approval of Her Majesty's government.

Look, just fuck off guys, OK? I know you mean well, and that's very sweet of you, but just fuck the fuck off, you fucking fuckers. You should focus your do-gooding goggles towards the more immediate problem of those 18-24 year olds who feel they can't have a good night out without downing 37 Red Bull and vodkas and kicking someone's head in. I've half a mind to join them, just to piss Nanny Hewitt off. And it's a long time since I felt solidarity with an 18-24 year old.

But for all our government's obsessive nannying, we've still got a long way to go before we match our American cousins, who have turned this neo-puritanism into an artform. In Virginia last week, a mother was given two years in prison for giving her 20-year-old son and some of his friends a few beers (in the USA, you have to be 21 to drink alcohol). I mean, what?!!

Honestly, it's enough to turn you to heroin.

Tags: alcohol, health, labour, nanny state, politics, puritan, sin, smoking, usa

Another Eurovision post-mortem!

: cultured_janner; May 14th, 2007

Current Mood:: amused

Current Music:: Adam & the Ants, "Cartrouble"

Another year, another British Eurovision disaster! I know it's only Eurovision, and we all claim not to take it very seriously, but as the nation that gave the world the likes of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Who, Led Zep, et al, a defeat as bad as this one - joint second last, for fuck's sake! - still smarts a bit.

There are lots of possible reasons for the failure of Scooch, a bunch of desperately camp 1990s also-rans who weren't particularly popular in their day, to win over the hearts and minds of Europe.

Was it because the rest of Europe hates the UK? Possibly, but for some reason they hated Ireland - indisputably Europe's favourite nation - even more.

Was it the former Eastern Bloc nations voting for each other? Undoubtedly, but that still doesn't explain such a poor points tally.

Was it a particularly bad song? Yes, but no worse than many of its rivals, to be honest. Including the winner, which was unspeakable.

No, the blame should fall squarely on the shoulders of the great British public, as it was they who decided which song should represent the UK in the first place. I mean, they could have had Justin Hawkins. OK, so he probably wouldn't have won either - even the Beatles themselves wouldn't have been able to penetrate the muddle of prejudice and politics that is the Eurovision Song Contest - but at least it would have given us a laugh. And, as we saw with Finland's victory with that bizarre goth-metal act last year, stranger things have happened.

The trouble with letting the British public decide these things is that the British public can sometimes be a little bit naughty when it comes to phone-in polls. We Brits have a very keen sense of irony, and will often vote for the funniest/stupidest/campest act, rather than the best. Which is fine, as long as we don't expect the song to win.

It was the British public, remember, who voted for Michelle McManus as the winner of Pop Idol a few years back. They didn't vote for her because they particularly liked her, they voted for her because she weighed about forty stone and they wanted to see just how the hell self-proclaimed pop genius Simon Cowell was going to market that one! You see, that's what we're like. A bit naughty.

A new strategy is called for. Firstly, we should enter without the expectation of winning - that sort of snooty arrogance has always been our problem in the past.

Secondly, don't let the British public decide on the song. That way defeat lies. Just get a panel of music writers, journalists, producers and respected musicians to choose a song. So whatever happens, we'll know it's a good 'un.

Finally, get an artist who actually understands the concept of Eurovision to perform the song.  Justin Hawkins gets it. So does Morrissey. I'd also like to suggest someone like Right Said Fred, who are both camp and funny, and have never been so vain as to take themselves seriously. Or maybe some long-forgotten chart star like Adam Ant or Shakin' Stevens. Failing that, we should just go for the jugular with Iron Maiden or Motorhead.

Yeah, that'd show 'em!

Tags: arrogant, british, camp, culture, eurovision, failure, irony, music, pop

I didn't know blogs were such high maintenance!

: cultured_janner; April 18th, 2007

Current Location:: Home

Current Mood:: guilty

Current Music:: B-Movie, "Nowhere Girl"

10 months. A long time. I mean, who would have thought ten months ago that we'd be on the verge of war with Iran... oh, yeah, right. Sorry. But you get the point.

I've decided to get back into the habit. Writers' block, you see. Maybe if I write periodic drivel on this blog thing of mine, I can get back into the flow. Thankfully, blogging has now become a much scorned and derided pastime, so I don't feel quite so bad about doing it. I've never been one for following fashion. Late adopter, that's me. I didn't even get on t'internet at home until 2001.

It had been on my "to do" list from about 1994, but what with being at university (where web access was gratis and unchecked) and battling that apparently normal twentysomething urge to destroy myself with alcohol and saturated fats, it wasn't until 2001 that I finally decided to make use of one of those millions of AOL discs that had been falling through my letterbox with much regularity.

After the initial buzz of having oodles of pornography at my fingertips had worn off, and the novelty value of email had turned into an irritation thanks to the army of spammers who still haven't realised that nobody wants to buy their knocked off Viagra, or allow their bank account to be used to shift the mysterious fortune of some fallen Nigerian nobleman in return for a handsome cut of the proceeds, I quickly settled into the lull of trawling message boards and blogs for some sign of life.

And so here I am.

Again.

Tags: bone idle, lazy, missing

So, farewell then, TOTP...

: cultured_janner; June 26th, 2006

Current Mood:: nostalgic

Current Music:: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, "The Ship Song"

So it's official then. Top Of The Pops is no more.

Hardly a surprise, really. The BBC has been looking for an excuse to quietly axe TOTP for years. So they did the only thing they could do. They moved it from its still moderately successful BBC1 Thursday evening pre-Eastenders slot to a Friday evening slot directly opposite Coronation Street, where it would naturally be trounced in the ratings and allow the Beeb to claim that the show was "failing".

Having done this, they stick the knife in further by putting Andi Peters in charge of the show (this was always going to be the kiss of death - it's like putting the school geek in charge of the end-of-term disco), and give it the dreaded "relaunch" treatment.

Finally, they move it to some dead Sunday evening slot on BBC2. It's a classic example of how to successfully kill a long-running programme with as little fuss as possible.

But realistically, it probably had to go. TOTP as an institution only really has any resonance with those people who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, which was a time when music was, for the most part, actually quite interesting, and music on TV was itself quite hard to come by. But in an age when most teenagers can access any type of music they wish on any number of dedicated TV channels or via the internet, there's no real role for TOTP anymore.

The whole notion of the Top 40 singles chart (or "Hit Parade" as my dad still calls it) is also out-of-date. And because the record companies have shown time and time again that the charts can be very easily manipulated, any value they once may have held as a reliable indicator of the public's music taste has long since dissipated. The only thing the charts indicate today is which record company has the most effective marketing department.

Even in its "golden" era, despite the occasional token venture outside the mainstream, most of the acts featured on TOTP were safe and bland, while the presenters were generally goofy and clueless, like embarrassing dads trying to "get down" with the kids. And, good god, the audience - where did they get them from? TOTP's biggest problem was that, despite numerous, increasingly desperate facelifts, it never really changed.

OK, so the eternal teenager in me is maybe a little sad to see TOTP go, but my 34-year-old present self can see why the BBC has made the decision it has. Nothing lasts forever - and in pop music, a medium which by its nature is very NOW, that has always, painfully, been the case.

Tags: bbc, music, nostalgia, pop, television, top of the pops

Enough with the remakes already!

: cultured_janner; June 3rd, 2006

Current Mood:: aggravated

Current Music:: John Lennon, "Crippled Inside"

I’m not an expert on cinema by any means, but I know what I hate. The movies of Tom Hanks, for example. “Zany” comedies starring Steve Guttenburg. Cute movies with cute kids doing cute things in a really cute way. The sort of self-conscious, self-referential bile that Woody Allen spews up every couple of years. Anything directed by John Hughes.

All of these are, I’m sure you’ll agree, thoroughly unpleasant and best avoided at all times. But they all pale into insignificance next to my main Hollywood gripe: remakes. Oh yes, remakes. With the obvious exception of Hugh Grant, there is nothing in the world of cinema which is more lazy, more insulting to the intelligence, more one-dimensional, more market-led and more utterly pointless.

For many years now, Hollywood has established itself as the place where good ideas go to die. But times have changed. In the Hollywood of old, good ideas were generally Hilti-gunned to the floor, buggered senseless, skinned, gutted, buggered again and left for dead by a succession of feckless producers who were convinced that this was what the public wanted.

But that’s not enough for the current generation of vile movie-making monsters, oh no.

In today’s more brutal, more cynical and more shallow Hollywood, many of these already-ravaged ideas are being resurrected and put through the process again. It doesn’t bear thinking about. It’s cruel, it’s heartless, it should probably be illegal. But what can you do?

I’m somewhat lost as to the actual point of remakes, other than the obvious financial advantages, and the relative ease of presenting the audience with a text it usually already knows inside out.

I’ve always believed that if a film is good, then surely that’s it, job done - a remake is unnecessary. If a film is bad, then it would be a very cocksure producer who would commission a remake. Who, after all, wants to see another version of a film that was crap in the first place? If it was based on a reasonable idea that was just badly executed, then a remake could, perhaps, be justified, but in those rare cases, such films are generally given completely new titles, settings and storylines and generally evolve into something which only the most obsessive film-buff would recognise as being in anyway related to the original disaster.

Remakes bother me. Not because I'm some prissy film buff who believes the "classics" should be left untampered with (although most of them should), but simply because they convince me that more interesting and creative ideas are being shoved aside in favour of the easy money. Nothing new there, of course - movies are expensive to make, and studios want a return on their investment. But how long can this go on for? Until every film ever made has a new version, when the cycle will start all over again?

OK, rant over... I'm going to bed now.

Tags: hollywood, movies, remakes

Still thinking of voting BNP?

: cultured_janner; May 4th, 2006

Current Mood:: optimistic

Current Music:: Billy Bragg, "A New England"

I know times are hard, and the Labour Party is failing its core support badly. We all feel a bit shat on and let down, quite frankly, and that's not good.

I can certainly understand how some people, frustrated, helpless and feeling marginalised in their own country, could be tempted to vote for a party which claims to represent them and them alone. This, after all, is how Hitler wooed the German public in the 1930s. For that reason alone, voters should think twice before scribbling their X in the BNP box. Giving encouragement to the racist right is a very dangerous game to play.

Historically, it is at times like these - hard times - that the far-right sticks its oar in with yet another attempt to demonstrate how "acceptable" and "legitimate" they now are, with the usual lamentations that they've "changed", they are no longer an inherently racist party (generally the cue for Nick Griffin to wheel out the party's token Jewish member) and that they, more than any other party, are in touch with the feelings of the white working class.

To all white working class people (or indeed anyone else) in places like Barking and Burnley, who might be considering a vote for these shaved gorillas in suits in today's council elections, I would like to remind you exactly what you're voting for. This is the BNP's manifesto on multiculturalism, cut and pasted from their own website:

1. We would repeal the Race Relations Acts and all other restrictions on free speech in Britain.

2. We would abolish all targets and quotas for ethnic representation in all areas

3. We would abolish all politically-correct indoctrination of the police, teachers, and other public employees.

4. We would abolish all government-sponsored ethnicity-specific professional bodies, housing associations, and other organisations of employment, public and private.

5. We would abolish all departments, agencies, or other units of government whose sole and specific purpose is to deal with ethnic issues, grievances, or crimes. Such organisations deliberately seek out the maximum quantity of "racism" in order to justify their own existence and expand their power and budgets. The law is the law and must be enforced equally upon all without being politicised over ethnic differences.

6. We would abolish all laws against racial discrimination in employment and the government bodies associated with enforcing them.

7. Except for purposes of teaching foreign languages to native speakers of English, the only languages permitted in official documents, government business, and schools will be English, Scots, and Welsh. The use of other languages by ethnic minorities in their own homes, school and institutions will also be encouraged.

8. A Clause 28-style proscription against the promotion of racial integration in schools and the media would be introduced.

9. In order to make it clear that the “celebration of diversity” is something in which the native peoples of our islands can share, each of our traditional Saints Days would be made Public Holidays in the nations in question, with Trafalgar Day being an additional Public Holiday throughout the entire UK.

10. A massively-funded and permanent programme, using and doubling Britain's current foreign aid budget, will aim to reduce, by voluntary resettlement to their lands of ethnic origin, the proportion of ethnic minorities living in Britain, for as long as the majority of the electorate are willing to fund such expenditure. Since the chief impact of such a programme would be the assistance it would render to Developing Countries in the Third World, this is described further in Section 16 – Britain and the World.

11. While accepting the right of law-abiding minorities, in our country because they or their ancestors came here legally, to remain here and to enjoy the full protection of the law against any form of harassment or hostility, we will also seek to emphasise the importance of the prior status of the aboriginal people. This would be a national extension of the ‘Sons and Daughters' policy in priority on housing and school places lists which BNP councils seek to implement at local level.

Nice people, eh? Charmers to a man - the sort of people you'd want your daughter to marry. The only thing missing from such a manifesto is a "seig heil" at the end. Funny how these nutters always try to marry the voice of reason with the voice of hate, like the bloke in the pub whose debates always open with, "I'm not a racist, but..."

Oh yes, and the BNP is anti-queer, too. And probably anti-everyone who doesn't have a shaved head and pit-bull terrier called Tebbit.

Maybe I am one of those woolly, Guardian-reading liberals who, according to the BNP, are part of the problem, but I fail to see how multiculturalism can be anything but positive. Yes, you get problems with a few fruity old sticks who are set in their ways and refuse to change or adapt (and this applies on all sides of the argument), but on the whole, multiculturalism is a good thing for this country.

And multiculturalism suits this country. The British have always been at their best when assimilating ideas from other cultures and tweaking them to produce something which is fundamentally the same, but quintessentially British, from football and beer, to chicken tikka masala and even fish ‘n’ chips. Face it, if Sir Walter Raleigh hadn’t introduced the humble spud to these shores, we’d all be eating deep-fried parsnips with our battered cod, and that really wouldn't do at all.

"Our culture is being diluted by this multicultural madness!" cries the BNP.

“Our” culture is being “diluted” is it? Face it, it already has been, right through history, and if you want this country to have any sort of future, you’d better hope it will continue to be so. The very worst thing that could happen to the British is that they become a stagnant, rigid, insular people. They deserve much better than that.

If you want to lodge a protest vote against Labour - or whichever useless self-serving collective is running your local council (and let's face it, who doesn't?) - then for fuck's sake vote Green.

Tags: bigotry, bile, bnp, hate, homophobia, multiculturalism, politics, racism

The obligatory New Year's Resolution entry

: cultured_janner; January 1st, 2006

Current Mood:: optimistic

Current Music:: Tom Petty, "I Won't Back Down"

Nah, I don't do New Year's resolutions. Pointless. Why wait until New Year's Day to try and improve yourself? Why not 17th July? Why not anytime?

And why impose denial on yourself? If you have a vice which you enjoy thoroughly, whether it be smoking, drinking, consuming saturated fats or sodomising choirboys, I say carry on. Don't make yourself miserable by committing yourself to going without for the rest of eternity. Denial of the things you enjoy has always seemed a fruitless undertaking to me.

So, no, I don't make any resolutions. Ever. That would be silly. I just take my usual approach to life and apply it throughout the year: live peacefully, without prejudice and try not to be too much of a cunt to people, if you can possibly help it. That's it. That's the Cultured Janner moral code. I sometimes stray from it, but generally speaking, I find it a very useful template when contemplating life's many "is this right or wrong?" moments.

This year, however, I'm making a resolution. A small, simple one which won't make me miserable or deny me any of the many bad things I enjoy.

Quite simply, by the end of this year, I want to have succeeded in bringing the word "twatwipe" into common usage as an insult. I like it. I fancy it could, given time, replace the drearily passé "fuckwit". Think about it. It's a good word, isn't it? You like it too, I can tell. Then use it, my dears, use it every day, help me achieve my dream.

I Googled it last night, and there were only 94 instances of the word being used on the entire internet. This is indeed pitiful, and quite frankly something radical must be done if we are to reverse this sorry state of affairs.

So I bid you, good people, spread the word!

Tags: google, new year, resolutions, twatwipe, vice

So who is this Cameron geezer anyway?

: cultured_janner; December 19th, 2005

Current Mood:: amused

Current Music:: The Sonics, "Strychnine"

What's this? Tories show off dashingly handsome new leader? Tories ahead in polls? British public believes Labour is running out of ideas? This is too much for me to take in!

Ah yes, the Tories, bless 'em, selflessly making us point and laugh since 1997. And to think we once thought we'd never get rid of the bastards. Seems so long ago now, doesn't it? Of course, with the young, vibrant and just ever-so-slightly creepy David Cameron in charge, the Tories are no longer as funny as they were, and there is now just the slightest, slightest chance that a Conservative government may be a bit nearer than we had previously thought. My trousers are filling up already.

Labour, of course, is merely treading water at the moment, preparing for when Tony finally lets go of the reins and fucks off into the sunset to write his memoirs, allowing Gordon Brown to claim his inheritence. And while Labour is not exactly out of ideas, most of the ideas they've come up with recently have been total arse-gravy, to be polite. That unfortunate war business of a couple of years ago doesn't seem to have gone away, either, does it? All this combined with Prezza causing ripples and yet another humiliating Blunkett disgrace, and it isn't looking so rosy for them.

But don't be disheartened. The Tories may be looking healthier, but by my estimation, they're still about ten years behind Labour. The evidence speaks for itself: with Cameron, the Tories are convinced they have finally found their Tony Blair - just as Labour is preparing to get rid of theirs.

Tories, huh? Will they ever learn?

Tags: cynical, david cameron, gordon brown, politics, tony blair, tory

The Facility of Slebdom

: cultured_janner; November 7th, 2005

Current Mood:: nauseated

Current Music:: Half Man Half Biscuit, "I Left My Heart In Papworth General"

As we edge ever further towards our self-dug cultural chasm, with grades of celebrity now having exceeded the number of letters in the alphabet, and with Andy Warhol’s off-hand prophecy seemingly about to prove itself true, I have recently been forced to wonder where there is left to go but over the edge, into the pit of our own ignorance, our own laziness and our own sad obsession with mindless trivia: “Lifestyles of the rich and pointless”.

Whatever happened to the concept of dedication plus hard work equals success? Why is nobody toiling in the mines of creativity trying to hack out nuggets of that commodity we used to call “talent” until Jade Goody came along and proved to the world that it was no longer required? Result: any complete arse with half a brain-cell can now become famous with the minimum of effort, talent, charisma and similar criteria which used to be the basic requirements of fame, but which are now redundant.

More than three years after her appearance on Big Brother, that ultimate showcase for the terminal attention-seeker (and which she didn’t even win, for god’s sake), Jade is still making a decent living as a “celebrity” - opening supermarkets, attending premieres, appearing on chat shows and all the media-whoring rest of it. And what did she do to deserve this lifestyle? Simple: she made herself a national laughing stock, and had us all falling about at the sheer breadth of her ignorance, as she spewed out the kind of crass remarks which should stand as a damning indictment of the state education system.

Of course, it would be immensely unfair to blame Jade entirely for this state of affairs. In fact, it’s difficult not to feel sorry for the poor lass. She is but a mere cog in the whole infernal celebrity machine. In fact, not even a cog, more a ball-bearing. But she still remains the most potent example we have of how “celebrities” with nothing to offer the world but their mere desire for fame and adulation can succeed.

Fame used to be a by-product of possessing a talent. And while there have always been those who have sought it at any price, most people who achieve fame generally accept it more as an occupational hazard, rather than the pinnacle of their ambition. Recognition from their peers or those few critics who know their onions is more than enough. If that recognition comes with a little bit of money, then all the better. But for such people, fame or great financial reward is not the point.

Sadly, people who do what they do for the sheer love of it are becoming increasingly rare. The pursuit of fame is more aggressive today than it has ever been. Neither can I ever remember a time when celebrities have been treated with such reverence by the public. Nothing massages a celeb’s ego more than being made to feel important. I’m certain that the only reason some people want fame is to be able to have a hissy fit in Sainsbury’s. I imagine they practice every day in the mirror; demanding “Don’t you know who I am, peasant?!” is a skill that must be finely honed. But once they get there, they know there is a vibrant marketplace just waiting to follow their every move and report it to the adoring hordes.

Celebrity mags such as Heat sell by the bucketload, as people eagerly devour every aspect of their favourite celeb’s private life. Tabloid newspapers will happily devote two pages to a few blurred, long-range photos of some minor TV actress sunbathing with her tits out. Last Christmas in the USA, the marriage split of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston took the Asian tsunami off the front pages. Nothing like putting things in perspective, huh? I mean, sure, the tsunami was a terrible thing, but Brad and Jenny splitting up was a disaster of truly global proportions. I’m not sure if we’ll ever recover.

The fact that we live in such an arse-paralysingly shallow society is, of course, the root of the problem. People want status, and, in their eyes, there is no greater status than fame, with which can come recognition and adulation. But, unlike in the past, while people have such aspirations, they don’t necessarily want to spend too much time and effort realising them. Luckily for them, the current celebrity culture does most of the work for them. Anyone can become famous if they’re superficial and shameless enough. TV is currently saturated with reality shows, talent shows and even morbid combinations of the two.

Talent shows are hardly a recent phenomenon, of course. For Pop Idol and The X-Factor, read New Faces and Opportunity Knocks. There really is very little difference, apart from the sort of person who appears on them. I called them talent shows, but of course, they are really non-talent shows, as talent doesn’t appear to be the dominant factor when deciding on a winner. And of course, irritatingly, even the losers can become famous. But that’s just the British way - Eddie Edwards, anyone?

Yes, it’s very easy to become famous. Whether you appear on a reality TV show or simply shag a failing TV presenter and sell your story to the tabloids, fame, that holy grail of modern society, is within the grasp of everyone who wants it. The real trick - one which catches out a great many people - is remaining famous once your allotted 15 minutes is up and the cruelly fickle public tires of your antics. With fame being so easily obtainable these days, inevitably, careers are much shorter, and there really is nothing sadder than somebody who has outstayed their time in the limelight.

But even fading celebs get a break occasionally, and the number of reality shows featuring has-beens is increasing rapidly, as they desperately try to rekindle their flagging careers. Curiously enough, many of these has-beens are themselves former reality show contestants. But these shows are very revealing: basically, they operate on the premise that these are desperate people who will do anything to retain their slight celebrity status, even if it means wanking off a pig, eating a kangaroo’s bollock or being endlessly insulted by a foul-mouthed chef. Ah, dignity, the great leveller…

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly the moment when popular culture finally went tits-up - or should that be tits out? - but not entirely impossible. Of course, we’ve all become so accustomed to this fervent worship at the altar of celebrity that nothing in these post-ironic times is surprising anymore. But I think I have successfully isolated the moment where our obsession with celebrity reached its nadir.

Sometime in 2004, ITV commissioned what I view as a landmark programme in the relationship between celebs and those who encourage them. This programme was called, I kid you not, The Celebrity of the Year Awards, sponsored by, if you will, OK! Magazine. And no, I didn’t dream it, this programme did actually exist. Here’s a link to prove it. To be honest, I wish I had dreamt it, I’d feel a lot less queasy than I do at the moment. Yes, I know we’ve all sat back and laughed at the Oscars, BAFTAS, Grammys, etc, denouncing them as the exercises in public mutual masturbation that they assuredly are, but this one really knocked me for six. I mean, giving people awards simply for being famous? Voted for, of course, by those evil collaborators known as the Great British Public, a group from which I wish to disassociate myself forthwith.

Do you recall, I wonder, that cheesy, but strangely watchable 1980s TV drama Fame, set in a stage school, where an impromptu song-and-dance number was just around the corner, even if it meant messing up the dining hall, holding up the traffic or disrupting the relative calm of a musical instrument store? In the opening titles of said televisual atrocity, the students are seen being haughtily warned by a teacher that “fame costs, and right here’s where you start paying.” Sage counsel indeed. Because, yes, fame does cost. But I fear it is we, in a cultural sense, who are paying.

Tags: celebrity, fame, vacuity

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