There’s a fair amount of chatter regarding Claire Curtis-Thomas’ bid to place “lad’s mags” on the top shelf of newsagents. I’m still figuring out a logical way to approach the subject, but a side note of interest is this quote:

Ms Curtis-Thomas said descriptions of sexual acts in the ‘Dictionary of Porn’ in an April edition of Zoo magazine are “so graphic and repulsive I am prevented from quoting it on the floor of the House of Commons.”

I think this is more rhetorical trick than real statement - it seems unlikely she would have read them out anyway - but is there any truth to it? Are there things she wouldn’t be allowed to say in the House of Commons? If so, that’s stupid.

In related matters, Lord Tebbit thinks that Jonathan Ross asking David Cameron:

Did you or did you not have a wank thinking ‘Margaret Thatcher’?

is

an obscene attack on - and I use the word literally, obscene - on Margaret Thatcher.

I think some people need to lighten up. Also, it would help if they watched the interview and saw the context of the query. Interesting question, though: is it ever offensive to have somebody fantasise about you? Even if you’d rather they didn’t, or even if it’s in a stalker-esque manner, isn’t the act inherently flattering? Maybe if they were misrepresenting you, but then it wouldn’t really be a fantasy about you…Not sure. This links in with lad’s mags, in a way.

Incidentally, JR’s (extremely good, imho) interview with DC is available on the BBC website, but the offending segment has been cut out so you should watch it here and here instead.

Why aren’t there any ministerial blogs? From my perspective, Labour seems to have a problem explaining its position. The Human Rights Act is a good example. The tabloid press despise the thing, and I rarely hear the opposite position, which surely exists. Despite occasional mutterings, Labour are surely in favour of it, but I don’t know where to look to find out why. Currently I’d turn to Labour bloggers for this. The major newspapers are no use, as decent explanation is difficult to find. There are some - David Aaranovitch etc. - who do a good job of properly investigating issues, but I don’t think it should be so hard to find. The Labour website carries little in the way of argument, instead concentrating on news and press releases. The Home Office website does a good job of explaining the law, but there’s very little argument in favour of ID cards, for example - there’s something about how good they’ll be, but nothing that addresses concerns I’ve seen elsewhere. I’m sure this already happens behind the scenes, and if I investigated enough I’d be able to find all the information I wanted. But, without meaning to sound lazy, it’s too hard. If only there were some way for the government to communicate without the filter of the media…

Ministers are busy people, but their offices could surely find somebody to run a blog. They could respond immediately to Tory arguments, or tabloid misrepresentation, and not have to worry so much about the newspapers taking one quote terribly out of context. The important thing would be to make it genuine; glorified press releases would be pointless. You want a Robert Scoble of the Labour Party - somebody happy to say ‘we screwed this up, but here’s what we doing to make it right’. Maybe that goes against the grain of modern politics, but I think it’s going to be necessary. Tony Blair’s great at explaining his position, but he’s not enough. The odd Guardian article or 10-word soundbite from other ministers just doesn’t cut it any more. I want to see John Reid tell me what the hell a respect squad would actually do. I want to see Patricia Hewitt explain why NHS redundancies are necessary. I want to see Alan Johnson point out the huge rise in school food standards, and be happy to acknowledge Jamie Oliver’s role in the affair. Would it be official government comment? Tricky. Would they allow comments? Probably not if they’ve ever looked at Comment is Free, but trackbacks maybe.

Sure, the majority of people don’t read blogs. But people who do (he says, tentatively) are often the people best equipped to communicate. An increasingly tech-literate younger generation is seeing a government that doesn’t know how to communicate with them. Blogging wouldn’t solve the problem of Labour’s increasingly out-of-touch image, but I think it would help.

Update: Hat-tip to Jo in the comments for pointing out David Miliband’s blog. He’s Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, and the blog certainly seems to be a good start. Should have done my research properly

Recent comments on a few Bloggers4Labour blogs have, in particularly caustic style, suggested that B4L bloggers should not discuss anything other than politics, and discussing anything else (particularly sci-fi) makes us look pathetic. These people happen to be your basic trolls, but more polite versions would raise three issues:

• The idea that discussing sci-fi / other ‘geeky’ topics is something to be ashamed of, and that others will laugh at us. I think I demonstrated my contempt for that particular theory here.
• The idea that personal posts have no place on blogs ostensibly about politics. Jo has an excellent response here: “What I’m trying to say is that this is my blog about my thoughts, my opinions and my life. I just happen to be a Labour activist.”
• B4L should only aggregate political posts. This, as far as I’m concerned, is entirely up to Andrew of B4L. He built the system, and can choose to aggregate whatever he likes. I like the community feel of B4L, as the inclusion of non-political posts makes it feels much more like a group of real people than just political pundits (edited - original phrase wasn’t really what I meant), but it’s really nothing to do with me. I’m not trying to pass the buck, I’m just saying that B4L is whatever he wants it to be. Wordpress blogs can supply category feeds, and if Andrew were to ask for a feed that only contains political posts (and I’m certain he’d be a damn sight more polite about it than random commenters) I’d be happy to supply it.

David Aaranovitch writes an excellent piece on traffic wardens and calming measures:

Ask almost any conscientious school governor or PTA activist. You can send out a zillion letters, put up a gallery of posters, invite endless consultation — and no one but the same half-dozen parents will respond. Then, as in the case of the school-run permits, suddenly it affects them. Wardens are moving them on as they attempt to triple park in a narrow road. Bang! Why didn’t you tell us? It’s a disgrace! Boom! There’s a campaign group and the local paper moans about a dearth of discussion.

Perhaps indignant passivity is a product of representative democracy, in which the citizen almost expects to be protected from her own prejudices by the enlightened representative. Under this system we are free to dissociate ourselves from the results.

I wonder whether this doesn’t infantilise us all. Perhaps we should be forced to live more directly with the consequences of our own decision-making, through much greater use of local plebiscites or the setting-up of citizens’ juries, who can hear all the facts and then decide on the complicated question of, say, whether the discomfort of motorists is more important than the lives of children.

It does irritate me when drivers complain. You’re in a car capable of killing anybody in an instant. The onus is not on other people to accommodate you.

Does the same apply to speed cameras? I think it’s extremely likely. I’m trying to educate myself on road safety so that the next time somebody explains how they’re justified in speeding in a 30mph zone I can properly nuke them from orbit.

If you’re reading this outside of the UK, chances are you’ll doubt me if I tell you that there exist in this country groups of people who dress in white, wear large hats, strap bells to their belts, place furry things around their ankles and whack each other with sticks while dancing around public places, all to the sound of an accordion. It is, however, true. They’re called Morris Dancers and it’s a very old form of folk dancing. I just saw some:

It’s traditional to take the mickey, but I don’t think anybody really dislikes them. They have a certain charm, although Skuds points out that it’s open to misinterpretation…

(note: YouTube doesn’t seem to like this video, and it may well disappear at some point)

Going superhero crazy at the moment. The Spider-Man 3 teaser is out. The film itself isn’t released until May ‘07, mind.

Speaking of which, you know what I did today? I had five servings of fruit and vegetables, that’s what I did. I probably average 2-3, but not today. No. Today I had the full full five. Fruit and vegetables: you are done. Fruit and vegetables: you are now, in fact, my bitches. I don’t know whether I’ll develop the superpowers right now, or if it’ll take a few hours. I await with anticipation.

Previously, I would never have considered myself anti-American. But I am now forced to revise my stance over a truly important issue. They get Superman Returns two whole weeks earlier than the UK. This Friday, in fact. Two weeks! Have they any idea how excited I am about it? Two weeks of reading first sentences of blog posts. Two weeks of posters, newspaper articles, and odd conspiracy theories. There are already adverts everywhere, and whenever I hear the first bars of John Williams’ score I get the shivers. It’s just not fair, dammit. And now look: I have to pick up all my toys. Hmph.

Yesterday evening I decided to take some night shots of the theatre, so took a walk with my camera and tripod. I’d never tried serious night photography with a tripod before, preferring to balance on nearby stable surfaces while attempting to hold the camera still for multiple seconds, which rarely works. I didn’t know whether I should be nervous about walking around at 2200 with a camera, but hoped I was just being paranoid. Happily, it was fine.

I left a little too late to capture the theatre at its best - the riverside restaurant was closed so the prettier lights were turned off - so took a couple of shots of a nicely lit cafe on the far side of the river instead. I felt silly for a minute before deciding that was ridiculous - what’s wrong with taking pictures? I started to head home and nearly crossed the main bridge before deciding it would be good experience to try photographing the theatre anyway. The shots turned out better than I’d expected, and I’d forgotten that very dark skies turn blue on long exposures:

I wandered around for another twenty minutes, taking shots of the basin and the front of the theatre. Was cool - I enjoyed it.

My tripod is a £25 Dixons model that I picked up during my A-levels, and is very, very bad. The head doesn’t turn smoothly, and often I’ll try to tighten it into a position only to to have it shift into its own alignment. I’ll have to replace it at some point, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll try to take it with me more often, or at least leave it in the car.

In Tesco this morning, a passing woman gave me a sly sideways glance and said ‘I saw that’. I don’t know what I did. As far as I remember, I was deciding between brands of chicken pie. Maybe I committed some major faux pas of which I’m not even aware. Like ‘thou must not dally in front of freezers on a Monday’ or something. Or maybe it’s a secret one, created purely to confuse young men. That’ll be it.

I completely forgot that Wimbledon starts today. I really enjoy watching tennis, and my productivity has just plummeted…

BoingBoing today mentioned Neil Strauss’ book ‘The Game‘. It’s the story of the author’s attempts to attract women by learning from so-called seduction societies and following a strict set of rules and techniques. I was intrigued by the story, and added the book to my wish list. Now Amazon is recommending I buy ‘The System: How to get Laid TODAY’ and ‘The LayGuide: Rules of the game’. This isn’t really surprising when you read The Game’s reviews, which contains many testimonies from people who apparently bought the book to find out the techniques. I really was just interested in the story. Now I’m worried that anybody glancing at my wishlist will get the wrong impression
Of course, my current method pretty much involves hoping I’ll heroically rescue somebody from the path of a speeding train and lifelong romance will ensue, so it’s not like there’s no room for improvement. But the idea of seduction techniques, even if they work, just seems wrong.

Today was busy, but good fun. I headed down to Oxford to see old chums Ben and Nod. Nod, incidentally, is now known as B.A. Maracas after strutting a groovy rhythm with a pocketed packet of tic-tacs. It was good to catch up. We wandered around for a while and grabbed some lunch, and it was most pleasant. It’s actually illegal to visit that town without popping into Blackwells Bookshop, although I somehow managed to resist buying anything. I’m sorry to be such a man, but walking around Oxford during the height of summer is quite the thing. I don’t ogle or anything, but it’s hard not to be distracted sometimes…

Then at six o’clock it was back to Stratford to grab some good and quickly get changed for a ball run by my dancing teachers. I arrived an hour late, but was in time for the second round of all the major dances. It was a little strange to be on my own, but plenty of people were happy to dance with me, which was nice. The jive nearly killed me, mind, but then it always does
Tomorrow should be a little more relaxed. There’s a 7.5 mile build-your-own-raft race ending at Stratford basin, although I simply cannot find any kind of timings other than ‘the afternoon’. I’ll try to take some photos.

Before tonight, the most emotionally engaging moment I can remember experiencing in a cinema was at the end of Return of the King. The finale was so masterfully woven, the characters so important to me, that it completely drew me in. Tonight I saw United 93, and I honestly hope I never see anything like it again.

Over the last month or two I’d mentioned that I wanted to see United 93, and a couple of people immediately said ‘too soon’. I wanted to know why, to know what reasoning had lead to them to this conclusion, but I could only ever get that: it’s too soon. I didn’t think it was too soon, but, still, when I first heard of the film’s existence I was hesitant. A dramatisation of those events could easily be mishandled. It would be repulsive to exploit that day to make money. But then I heard more about the film, and found that the families of the victims had given their consent. I made an exception from my policy of not reading reviews, and everything I heard suggested that it was a film worth seeing, so I did.

I think some of the film’s power comes from what it wasn’t. The events were reconstructed meticulously from available evidence. There was no patriotic message, nor use of the phrase ‘foreign policy’. It was straight storytelling, following the people on United 93, air-traffic controllers, high-ranking air-traffic coordinators, and low-to-mid-level military personnel. And that was it - nobody played GWB, there was nothing more than distance shots of the towers, and there were no shots of relatives on the other end of goodbye phone calls.

Obviously I don’t have the experience to say whether the situation was portrayed realistically, but it certainly seemed reasonable. I know that many of the ground staff played themselves. I assume that the breakdowns in communication were genuine, but nobody was made a scapegoat. The controller of all US airspace reacted to circumstance as best he could. He wasn’t a perfect, always in-control leader, but was experienced enough not to lose his head. The frustration of the military commander as he tried to find available fighter jets was just that - frustration directed at the broken communication, rather than anybody specific.

The events on board flight 93 seemed reasonable. As I said, much of it was pieced together from phone calls, flight data etc. Even some of the interaction between passengers was based on evidence: somebody called home to say that a woman had handed her a mobile phone, telling her to call her loved ones. As I understand it, the actors on the plane researched the individual they were playing, and then improvised around the framework of known events. The terrorists were neither sympathetic nor heroic - they simply did what they did. Although it’s clearly impossible to know how you’d react in such a situation, there were no moments that rang hollow. Before they knew of the other attacks, one passenger wanted to calm down and let the terrorists do what they wanted since hijackings had almost always been resolved peacefully up to that point. He’s since had to defend being ‘an appeaser’ (which is ridiculous, imho), and I couldn’t help thinking that, hell, that could well have been me.

The phone calls were horrific. I was quickly in tears. The usual safety net of ‘this isn’t real’ obviously didn’t apply, but I kept finding myself trying to step back a little. I was searching for a way to make it less unpleasant, but came up empty. During the final moments, as the passengers rebelled and stormed the aisle towards the cockpit, I found that I had crept physically back into my seat, my arms crossed and my hands in fists. I knew what was coming, but a part of my brain still desperately wanted to see the plane beginning to level off. I was essentially hoping that Superman to save the day. I can’t help but wonder if this is the real root of all conspiracy theories.

No fiction could resonate more, and it’s hard to think of real-life stories that could have the same impact, here and now. Oliver Stone has a twin towers movie coming out this autumn. It’s worrying. If he tries to put any kind of spin on events, and if he dares mention the word ‘conspiracy’, he’ll incur the justified wrath of a huge number of people - me included. But a similar film covering the firefighters who ran into the towers would be well worth making, imho (although there is a real-life documentary, filmed on the day itself, that arguably has this covered).

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. I found it to be a phenomenally powerful film. It’s undeniably upsetting, but, if you can, do see it. There’s no moral, it simply tells a story, and one I think well worth telling. Some people wanted to kill a planeload of people; others ran down an aisle towards men who wielded knives and bombs. If anything, it says this: look at what we’re capable of.

Do you ever see a possibility in the distance, get all excited and full of ideas, then go into a this’ll-never-work slump? It happens to me reasonably frequently, and I’m in one atm. Slumps either turn into ‘there’s something valid here, I should pursue it’ or ‘that whole thing was a muppetry’, but there’s no way to tell beforehand which it’ll be…Shall wait and see.

After a few months of intense data collection, the results are in. 24% of voting visitors have no MP3 player, while 32% have an iPod and 43% a non-iPod. My blog is available to the entire world, except China and libraries, therefore these results can be extrapolated to the entire world except China and libraries.

Now, onto more pressing questions. What’s your preferred method of zombie disposal? It’s a menace we all face at one point or another, so it’s good to have a plan. You can (tentatively) add your own answers to this poll. I was going to add ‘cross’, until I realised he obviously wasn’t a zombie at that point, and that it wouldn’t work on zombies anyway. That’s what you get for trying to be too clever. So I’ll remove that if anybody adds it. Similarly: jam sandwiches.