More Pleasure Now!

Have been waiting for Treme, the series, to cross the Atlantic.
I came across a short video on the grauniad site about Treme, the district in New Orleans. Anyway, Wendell Pierce speaks about the origins, music and customs of Treme, and mentions the Social Aid and Pleasure Clubs (Mutual Societies). What a great idea, the name that is.

Too late now but we should have suggested that when they were looking for alternative names for the, somewhat presbyterian, Industrial and Provident Societies!

The link is here and it's short.

Another brick in the foundations of slow politics.

The time has come

The end of the year; no doubt we will be plagued by pundits, caused to fret by futurologists, and startled significantly by jobbing scriveners. Concerns will be raised about many things and I would, if given to betting, put 50p each way on the tired old nag being dragged to the starting line that the interweb is shortly to, if it has not done so already:-

• reduce our brains and those of our first-born to jelly,
• turn us into a nation of drooling addicts with personal hygiene problems, significant gambling debts and RSI in our wrists,
• suffer the horror at an ATM of finding that all our accounts have been emptied by arms dealing Albanians operating from a grass hut in Nigeria,
• force good, honest, hardworking monopolies to reconsider their modest surpluses,
• and in the last, mortal, words of Bluebottle that we have been deaded by an evil jazz playing conspiracy of grizzled old men called the Biderbeck Group.

(Ed. Ahem... could we move on a little?)

I made brief reference in a blog to some thoughts John Naughton had about the internet
in June of this year, and I would suggest you reread them.

They will act as an adumbrating antidote, a poultice for puffery, a balm for the bewildered....

(Ed. That's enough now. One more alliteration and I will turn the electrons off. Adumbrating antidote indeed!)

Slow Slow Quick Quick Slow

An article in Open Democracy caught my eye, Slow Food and the Pleasure Principle, by David Ransom and Richard Swift. It wasn't the prospect of even more overindulgence at this time of year but the trail:-

Much of left thinking has been based on denial: don't eat this, believe that or behave like the other. Slow Food provides a healthy antidote of inclusion, rather than exclusion...

It got me thinking.

The final paragraphs

Slow Food raises a lot of questions about what a social movement actually is. It undoubtedly has had a wider impact in Italy, where it has spun off a number of other slow movements (Slow Cities, Slow Money). But also beyond, there are now tens of thousands of adherents all around the globe, who identify with an analysis that merges issues of quality with those of justice and sustainability. The movement is, by and large, entrepreneurial, championing smallholders' rights to produce and sell their goods to eco-conscious consumers, in a market setting not dominated by corporate agriculture. This separates Slow Food from the conventional left. So does its enthusiastic embrace of the pleasure principle.

identify other evolving approaches, movements, but it also sets out what could be problems for the left.

We know what we want (see UN declaration of Human Rights if you don't)

We have had a few years since that was published, boy have we done well!

That is the problem. It's not going to be easy and it's not going to be quick.

Slow politics. Why not?

The cycle of politics even in democratic states means that little is achieved in the 4 to 5 years between elections. The parties, organisations and movements of the left are not geared to securing irevocable progress for people who need it. Added to which, of course, no one who has power ever relinquishes it.

Even though I am old, grey and have not changed much in the world I am heartened by the yoof of today and its approaches to these problems. Laurie Penny articulates some of these, in the cement is free grauniad, and captures a fine absurdity.

Of course, the old left is not about to disappear completely. It is highly likely that even after a nuclear attack, the only remaining life-forms will be cockroaches and sour-faced vendors of the Socialist Worker. Stunningly, the paper is still being peddled at every demonstration to young cyber-activists for whom the very concept of a newspaper is almost as outdated as the notion of ideological unity as a basis for action.

We speak in hundreds of thousands of voices – voices that are being raised across Europe, not in unison but in harmony.

Now if you can turn that very elegant phrase into a programme of action and create a set of tools for progress and conviviality you will really do something. But don't forget the conviviality, in my view it is what defines us as truly human!

Sod 'em

I'm reading a book about the other mafia; no not the Tories boy, do pay attention!
Gomorrah is a view of the Neapolitan Camorra by Roberto Saviano. (I did not select it from the wonderful world of Suffolk County Libraries on the off chance that it contained lewd and lascivious material. It contains much that is obscene but in a very different way.)

It would appear in the world of the Camorrista at some point you acquire a defining nickname which stays with you for the rest of your life.

Have we reached that point with Gideon? The Beeb website gives the following quote attributed to David Heath Deputy Leader of the House:-

George Osborne has a capacity to get up one's nose, doesn't he?

Gideon "Chicken Scratch" Osborne?

If not there are alternatives, including:-Bazooka; Blizzard; Blow; Bouncing Powder; Florida Snow; Foo Foo; Gold Dust; Prime Time; Star Dust; Star-Spangled Powder; Sugar; Sweet Stuff; Toke; Toot;
Sourced at link

Personally, I could go for sweet stuff.
Any offers gratefully accepted.

Ding dong!

Some things and some people are such a part of life, as we know it Jim, that we rather take them for granted. A certain Mr Bell is one such. I have lived long enough to know that, in some future biography, there may be allegations of a concrete curdling nature. Did he show less than complete kindliness to children and small animals? Would he regularly down the last of the sherry straight from the bottle before the vicar called? Discounts for cash, an account at the Gay Hussar, the company of East End pre-owned vehicle executives, a penchant for pipe and herbal tobacco, did he, really?

Apart from a lifelong affection for country and western music, for which there is not one scintilla of evidence, I could forgive him much for such little gems.

Having Steve Bell portray you as a caring, sharing, smoothie chops, politician with a condom over your head and knowing that he will do so for the rest of your time in power must give you a boost in the morning.

Revolting Students

An interesting article in the London Review of Books by Joanna Biggs, At The Occupation, gave me some hope. Buddhist Pizza's efforts in this department have improved little and left unchanged a lot.

On a personal level - I managed to appear behind police lines at a Stop the Tour Demo many years ago. I could not understand why the nice little piggies would not part like the Red Sea to let myself and a few of my navigationally challenged protesting friends through to join the revolution. I'm not sure the world is much of a better place for my feeble efforts in Student Politics, Local Government or Mutual Societies. However, it was cheering to read of the UCL protest and the things that they wanted in addition to their demands on fees :-

for the university to pay UCL cleaners the London living wage, to bring outsourced support staff in-house and to change the composition of the university council to get rid of the majority of corporate non-UCL members (they'd like a quarter each of management, students, tutors and support staff)

It is good to see some thought, humour and non violence in demonstrations for change. (I have to admit that I get no joy from seeing buildings trashed or people pulled from wheelchairs, the dinosaurs on both sides do themselves no favours by such.) It is interesting to see the use of technology and the internet to co-ordinate, organise and disseminate. Does it make the protest more effective? It certainly captures transgressions and makes them available for all to see. We may not know who you are, we may not know where you live but we know the cowardly, vicious and violent things that you do and so does everyone else.
Still, as Jody McIntyre said:-

'Why is it so surprising that the police dragged me from my wheelchair?'

I suppose it is a mercy that he is not Brazilian or a vendor of newspapers.

An Open Letter on a Happy Occasion

Dear Hu Jintao,

I would like to congratulate you as the Chairman of the People's Republic of China, its President,
on the award of the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize to one of your foremost citizens -
Liu Xiaobo.

I would have sent this letter from myself, a private individual but felt that the occasion was sufficiently auspicious, happy indeed, that it needed to be made available as widely as possible. You must be very proud of the work of Liu Xiaobo and the inspiration he gives to the downtrodden masses in the world. I know the joy I feel in my heart at the thought of his selfless striving in the fields of literature, political thought and humanity without fear or favour. I believe the emergence of such a person in your state under the Communist Party of the Peoples Republic of China is a real tribute.

I look forward in my declining years to the award of many more Nobel Peace Prizes to citizens of your state to include in the panoply of good men and women committed to peace regardless of whether it is profitable or popular including such luminaries as;
Muhammad Yunus,
Nelson Mandela,
Rigoberta Menchú Tum,
Aung San Suu Kyi,
Tenzin Gyatso,
Desmond Mpilo Tutu and of course
Martin Luther King Jr.

Kindest Regards,

Buddhist Pizza.

A Cure for Elephants

And another one bites the dust.
So some kack handed jihadi nearly caused major mayhem.
Was he a sneaky sleeper, a person well guarded in speech and behaviour? Did his cover include tea at the vicarage and speaking regularly at the WI. Up to a point Agent Copper.
What were the spooks doing? You may well ask but are likely to be told that the brave lads and lassies were doing all manner of things to save the country, nay western civilisation and very possibly humanity itself. What might that be? Couldn't tell you Gov, might have to kill you if I did and besides we are only providing information through the orifices of a certain Mr Assangle, under contract.

This has always struck me as being a powerful argument. Very much the same as my claim to have found a cure for elephants which can be very big and very troublesome.

I have an arrangement of stones in my back garden which, with the secret incantation muttered at the dead of night to a timetable involving the phases of the moon, has kept our garden, in the depths of Suffolk, elephant free for years. There are no equivocations, ifs, buts, or other mendacity beloved of politicios. This has worked! (Patent Applied For.)

Anarchy on a Tuesday!

Deep in the bowels of the Buddhist Pizza Manorial Home there is a small coterie of anarchists, trouble makers, Wikileakers and no good boyos. Lady BP feeds them caviar, mushy peas, and black pudding, washed down with tea, lashings of tea. They foment, they rail they call for the rebirth of Western civilization but, they pay their bills and there is no drink, women or noise after 10.00 pm. We have made provision, in the form of extensive server farms and other gizmology about the estate, to counter any denial of service. They have been subjected to vicious and vitriolic attacks. They have been accused of crimes, misdemeanours, perversions and failures of moral character that would curdle concrete and this by thrupenny jobsworths of low breeding, no hair and a very noticeable lack personal hygiene. I issue a call to support them. The very foundation of free speech is imperilled. If we do not take a stand now we risk all that we hold dear, our homes, our families, our jobs, our pensions, our mortgages, our savings and very possibly our first born! (to be continued ....)

It is very easy in this superheated, febrile, atmosphere with accusations of treason and treachery bandied about like snuff at a wake to miss that which we have always known.

The chumps of politicians lied to us, don't they always. Their actions caused the unnecessary deaths of tens, hundreds, of thousands of human beings. They are supporting corrupt regimes which are so far beyond the pale they are translucent.

The same chumps will try to control what we know and when we know it.

For once, possibly because of the technology, they are finding it very difficult.


John Naughton seems to think so!

What's in a name?

Jim, Jim ah Jim!
We have all tiped our slongs at some point.
I had a colleague, an architect, with a particular dread of Buckminster Fuller.

Still, many a true word out of the mouths of sabes and bucklings!
I'm sure your man, the culture secretary Jeremy Hunt, could be described, loosely, in that fashion without too much offense being given to the female form!.

Very Krafty!

Don't let Cadbury cack on you.

How to avoid paying tax, other examples apply.

There was a rich man called Green.
Whose profits were entirely obscene.
The divvy for the wife
Caused considerable strife
She never paid a penny to the Queen!

God Bless you Marm.

If your lucky enough to have them, your home, job, pension, education, library, hospital, welfare benefits, mortgage and first born may be in danger if you continue eating the wrong sort of chocky.

Sovereign Debt

Sure I do not know what all the fuss and talk of billions and trillions is about.
A sovereign debt is a sovereign debt. The man from the IMF wants his pound of flesh. It is only a bob or two or twenty. Herself always said I was a whiz with the money.

Talking about a sack of potatoes perhaps we could help things with a sack of me Ma's finest; perhaps a wee note -

Best wishes from Fianna Fail.
Brian and Brian XXX.

There that should do it!

Stop Whingeing

According to a report on Her Gracious Majesty's Imperial Wireless Broadcasting Website Lord Young of Graffham stated that Britons 'never had it so good'. Up to a point, Lord Young, up to a point. He was, of course, reprimanded by the ever lovely Dave MacCameroon our boyish prime minister. I believe Lord Young was in trade before putting on the ermine!

Another little gem from Her Gracious Majesty's Imperial Wireless Broadcasting Home Service.

Who on earth would have a loyalty card to Hades?
Buddhists!

From Bleak Expectations - a suitably titled comment on our situation.

Later
The noble Lord Young
Stuck his trotter in the dung
He claimed they’ve never had it so good
Now he’s roast pork, period!

A Good Time Had By All

These are interesting times.
These are momentous times.
These times will be remembered.
I hope that the incident here, in which Paul Farelly MP allegedly defends his honour, integrity and physical person in the PoW , passes into the language.

The altercation is described as taking place at a karaoke party at Parliament's Sports and Social club. It sounds like a real doozie. I can see the excuses flying:

How did you get that black eye?
At a karaoke party at the PoW Sports and Social club!

Where did you meet such a slapper, he(she) is just so not your type?
At a karaoke party at the PoW Sports and Social club!

Where did you say the minister stood on the table, hitched her skirt into her knickers, danced in the Cossack style and sang the red flag?
At a karaoke party at the PoW Sports and Social club!

Snuff will no longer be kicked about at wakes it will head straight for - a karaoke party at the PoW Sports and Social club!

Well, in Hard Times it's good to know someone is having fun - and where would that be?
All together now...

Caps for All!

I had a thought the other day, yes I know get the wisecracks out of the way now.

If they are going to cap housing benefit which will take us back to the 1960's, Rackmanism, real suffering, families in bed and breakfast and another generation of .....
Well. you've heard it all before and you still did b****r all.

Why don't we cap tax allowances. Now I'm a wishy washy liberal and would not want to see anyone suffer so would peg this at the personal allowance, as it is, plus very specific allowances related to age, and health. But I suppose some ejit in the treasury is going to say such a move would cause untold suffering to those with grouse moors to support, lots of sprogs to put money in trust for and the creators of wealth..... They would go elsewhere to create wealth. So why don't we say £100k to begin with, just to give us a peg to hang this on. You can use it to claim on superannuation, sprogs or spread it around. Just a thought!

Made in Dagenham

We stumbled into our local flea pit to see this film. I had mistakenly taken it to be a tribute to our glorious, past and now failing leaderette, (one stop beyond Barking). That mistake aside I sat down to a very inspiring little film. There were glorious ironies all the way through from the titles - supported by the (late) film council. (Thank god says Dave and Gideon, we don't want any ideas about solidarity and what the right people in the right place at the right time can accomplish.) I'm sure the Mrs O'Gradys etc were not quite as Sally Hawkins, for all her gawk, and her mates appeared. Toby Ziegler(Richard Schiff the token lefty of the West Wing) appearing as the ball breaking Ford's fixer. He barks -break the strike- at the oleaginous union representative who obediently goes off to shaft the women who's union dues pay for his constipated, apparatchik lifestyle.

Barbara Cartland, the erstwhile Secretary of State for Employment, chuckling at the fact that Mrs O'Grady has (borrowed) the Biba while our Babs cuts a dash with C&A.

Interesting, while we wallow, debating with the forces of darkness about fair and fairness it was the Equal Pay Act. Even so, some are still more equal than others.

Came home to slump in front of Newsnight and the delicious ironies continued like sweets flying off an abandoned dessert trolley in a playground. Paxoid was grilling a number of lefties about solidarity, unionisation and where we will go in the current round of anarchy. You can just see him wobbling his wattles as he says that word. Tariq Ali who had been soothed with the sobriquet firebrand was mumbling something about class and I thought you're past it the Terry Kelly(try saying Tariq Ali in a scouse accent!) I knew would have asked Paxoid if he was a member of the NUJ, if he intended to strike in support of BBC Journos today, and if he was scabbing would he consider a pay cut in these difficult times? And he would have kept asking those questions until Paxoid did a Sweeny on him!
Heigh Ho.

Still did enjoy the film, right down to the closing title and 'you can get it if you really want it!'

Must keep an eye out what's on next at the flea pit.
Probably some Mike Leigh shoot 'em up sex romp!

El Sistema

A lovely little 15 minutes reading from the Beeb (Radio 4) this evening.

Melody Grove reads 'Peanut Butter and Cello' by Geraldine McCaughrean.
Produced by Eilidh McCreadie.
Read all abaat it here.

A young girl from the favela carries an unexpected burden on a cross-city journey.

Sadly, it's not on the iPlayer but that would only give you a week or so. By then I'm sure the Coalition Forces will have taken over Bush House. There will be grey uniformed militia under the direction of Gauleiter Pickles stamping their jackboots down on the iPlayer. For you Tommy the music has stopped. Now find a place to sit down; but not in inner London! (Didn't we have a run in with Lady Tesco about that before?)

A rare time to contrast El Sistema, which I'm sure some of the braying donkeys on the government benches from Wednesday would laugh at, to the wasteland that will be the cultural legacy of those two idiots McCameroon and the Cleggster.

Hate Filled Pinkos

So then that's it. The Coalition Forces have been subjected to the IEDs of the Institute of Fiscal Studies. The BBC reports the treachery

The respected IFS think-tank says poorer families with children would be the "biggest losers".

I believe I heard the word regressive connected to the word taxation, anarchy!

Soup Kitchen

Oh dear, I fell for the oldest trick in the book, there is no fool like an old fool.
By their maths ye shall know them.
Having avoided the snares of chain letters, email scams and the like I fell for the idea of sending a recipe to the person at the top of a list and putting my email address at the bottom of the list. I liked the idea of getting a few recipes. I was asked to send it to 20 friends. They in their turn would send it to 20 friends, etc. I should have done the math. It was late and I had had the odd glass of tempranillo!
So the list below shows that at the 5th level we have more than included all those living in the UK!
Total Friends
Me 20 (I know, don't laugh!)
1st 400
2nd 8000
3rd 160000
4th 3200000
5th 64000000

For my sins I would be willing to post good, nourishing soup recipes on this site and any that
come from the email returns.

Send to buddhistpizza at gmail dot com
I'll tag all the posts I use with Soup Kitchen and give you an attribution if you want one!
It's going to be a cold winter in more ways than one.

Gideon

It is a while since I raised the bible in anger other than to track down the odd solution to a crossword clue. Even then it is more likely to be mediated by Wikipedia. When you are as clumsy as I am the heft of the 'good book' is as likely to fracture a toe as lead to the light! Imagine my horror when idly googling and wiking Gideon. There it was, Gideon, the destroyer, the feller of trees.

Very unsure of both himself and God's command, he requested proof of God's will by two miracles, performed on consecutive nights and the exact opposite of each other:

Amen, comrades, amen! So think on. This afternoon, if you are in the squeezed middle or just plain dirt poor, the destroyer, the tree feller is coming to get you, your job, your house, your pension if you have one, your hospital, your benefits and probably your first born.

Doom, I telt ye, doom!

Soup Kitchens.

It is that time of year and that point in the political cycle when our thoughts turn to the stock pot. Stock jobbers, hedge funders, merchant bankers, off shore tax dodgers and any members of the Bullingdon Club who have fallen on hard times might like to warm the cockles of their trust funds with the following soup.

The recipe is my take on the
Special Lentil Soup p25 of
The Happy Herbivore
By Jamie Lass
Published by Conongate Edinburgh 1979
ISBN 0 903937 89 0

An interesting aside, one among many, in this age of debate about books and publishing:-
All 129 pages and covers were produced by Jamie from hand written masters and illustrated with a Parker ball point pen.

Serves 5, allegedly, or 3 at a pinch.

1. Cook 225 grams red lentils in 1ltr good stock; add ginger and cayenne to your taste.
2. Half cook 2 chopped onions with oregano and a bay leaf in oil; add 4 cloves of Garlic peeled, squashed and chopped.
3. When the onions are soft chop 225 grams mushrooms thickly and fry off with the onions. Turn them until they have colour, about 2 mins. If you overcook they will dry or go rubbery in the soup!
4. Season the lentils to taste and combine with the onions, garlic and mushrooms; this needs to simmer further for a minimum of 15 mins. The longer the better.
5. Before serving add a good slug of lemon juice and sherry!

So many people have asked me for the recipe!

And the wine to go with it Sir?
The odd bottle of 1990 Château Pétrus, allegedly laid on for David Cameron and friends by the Tory party treasurer, Michael Spencer, at their party conference in Birmingham. It should go well!

34,000 sovs a case since you ask!

What's that smell?

I don't know if you have ever been near enough but occasionally you catch a whiff off a politico.
In my mind Major will be forever linked to the aroma of curry, Peter Mandelbrot the rictus inducing bouquet of Arsenic and Old Mace and Tony the decay of stinkwort (Datura stramonium). The unholy quartet of Dave, Gideon, Nick and Vince will, in my memory, have the odor of sanctimonious dead skunk. You don't have skunk in this country - as Mr Wainwright III said on one famous occasion- think of a politician you don't like.

Enjoy!

After 20 October the blood and guts are going to make you swoon!

Cuts, what cuts?

We just sat down to our last Sunday lunch before the, so called, cuts.
Possibly the best Sunday lunch I've ever had. Not a cheese sarnie, no a cheese roll, wholemeal.
It had tomato, pickle and lettuce. I thought I had died and St Vincent de Cable had taken me to heaven.

As I savoured my glass of cheap (2 bottles for £7.50) white wine I thought on the hard times to come.

As I may have mentioned before, you aint seen nothing yet.

Hard Times

We need to be more nosey

Interesting post on the long nose of innovation by Bill Buxton in Business Week.
The idea of the long nose or snout has occurred to my good self (and others) before.

The heart of the innovation process has to do with prospecting, mining, refining, and goldsmithing. Knowing how and where to look and recognizing gold when you find it is just the start. The path from staking a claim to piling up gold bars is a long and arduous one. It is one few are equipped to follow, especially if they actually believe they have struck it rich when the claim is staked. Yet the true value is not realized until after the skilled goldsmith has crafted those bars into something worth much more than its weight in gold. In the meantime, our collective glorification of and fascination with so-called invention—coupled with a lack of focus on the processes of prospecting, mining, refining, and adding value to ideas—says to me that the message is simply not having an effect on how we approach things in our academies, governments, or businesses.

To cut a long nose short. His contention is that, even in the fast changing world of computers where it is almost impossible to keep up, the span from light bulb moment to the quotidian can be a nose spanning tens of years. So the major whizbangs passing into common as muck/cheap as chips category in the next ten years will be based on technology that is ten years old?

I've always thought that the driver for innovation was the transfer of technology on the hoof.
Maybe it also requires a certain amount of crying in the wilderness, about 20 years!

Hamming it up

I am fond of the pig. If a man, or woman for that matter, can live on potatoes alone then how much more pleasant and nourishing to prosper with the addition of cabbage and bacon.

Our travels in Spain resulted in frequent stops in places of refreshment where the legs of your porkers hung in the tobacco smoke with inverted paper umbrellas below them to catch any precipitation. We also spent a happy week in cork oak country and indeed watched the sweet little beasts rootling for the acorns. Your Spaniard does like his or her pig; every bit of it! This love affair has not gone unnoticed.

In Galicia they eat everything.

In Andalucia, in Jabugo, a slice or two of pata negra with your manzanillia would leave you thinking you had died and gone to heaven.

However, as with all things, the bad guys noticed too. The Grauniad reports that -

Ham inspectors put 17 tonnes of pig meat into quarantine yesterday as they cracked down on what they suspected was a massive fraud involving Spanish hams that – purportedly – come from the haunches of free-range pigs that feast daily on acorns.

By their arithmetic ye shall know them.
1 pig = 4 legs
X = the number of pigs happy rootling acorns and producing jamon to the required standard.
8X = the number of legs on sale purporting to be of the required standard.
I’ve seen some things in my life but an eight legged pig is not one of them!

Authorities in southern Andalucia said that, to provide the quantity of ibérico hams that now hang from supermarket meat counters, the region would need to double the number of locally bred, acorn-fed pigs…

By the way if you have not seen Jamon, Jamon by Bigas Luna get yourself a plate of pata negra, some fresh pan, a bottle of fino and be prepared for fun.

The Evils of Capitalism

Nice little blog in the grauniad. The case against uppercase.
I've always been lowercase myself, I'm sure it shows.
Good to note that there are occasions when uppercase makes all the difference:-

Capitals do have their uses, of course. As the Urban Dictionary puts it: "Capitalisation is the difference between 'I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse' and 'I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.'"

Capital, capital!

Networking, if that's OK with you

An Article in the New Yorker

Why the revolution will not be tweeted, by Malcolm Gladwell October 4, 2010

In 1960 four African American college students sat down at the segregated lunch counter at the Woolworth’s in downtown Greensboro, North Carolina. The action became part of the growing civil rights movement. Necessarily, it happened without e-mail, texting, Facebook, or Twitter. These tools are available now and it is claimed by some that they have had a significant effect from Iran to Moldova. Would the technology have made a significant difference. Gladwell claims that it is one thing to be loosely connected in a network that believes in equality, god mom and apple pie and another, as in Greensboro, where you are required to stand shoulder to shoulder with an exposed, non violent group, about to get its head beat in! You may need a little more than the ethereal connection of ewaves and 500 e-friends to sign up for that one.

Networks are very important and can bring about change and he quotes a report of an example that really inspires:-

In a new book called “The Dragonfly Effect: Quick, Effective, and Powerful Ways to Use Social Media to Drive Social Change,” the business consultant Andy Smith and the Stanford Business School professor Jennifer Aaker tell the story of Sameer Bhatia, a young Silicon Valley entrepreneur who came down with acute myelogenous leukemia. It’s a perfect illustration of social media’s strengths. Bhatia needed a bone-marrow transplant, but he could not find a match among his relatives and friends. The odds were best with a donor of his ethnicity, and there were few South Asians in the national bone-marrow database. So Bhatia’s business partner sent out an e-mail explaining Bhatia’s plight to more than four hundred of their acquaintances, who forwarded the e-mail to their personal contacts; Facebook pages and YouTube videos were devoted to the Help Sameer campaign. Eventually, nearly twenty-five thousand new people were registered in the bone-marrow database, and Bhatia found a match.

Certainly there is a role for the new tools and the new ways of working. Clay Shirky’s “Here Comes Everybody”, is a very good exposition of that. They are not the panacea for all our ills, and I would accept that I am susceptible to panaceaitis, maybe more that the next person. Where I might differ from Gladwell is that he believes:-

…if you’re taking on a powerful and organized establishment you have to be a hierarchy.

You have to be well organised and have your members committed but we all know the dangers of hierarchies from churches to political parties.


Commenting on the better known protest:-

The Montgomery bus boycott required the participation of tens of thousands of people who depended on public transit to get to and from work each day. It lasted a year. In order to persuade those people to stay true to the cause, the boycott’s organizers tasked each local black church with maintaining morale, and put together a free alternative private carpool service, with forty-eight dispatchers and forty-two pickup stations. Even the White Citizens Council, King later said, conceded that the carpool system moved with “military precision.”

He finishes the article with:-

The instruments of social media are well suited to making the existing social order more efficient. They are not a natural enemy of the status quo. If you are of the opinion that all the world needs is a little buffing around the edges, this should not trouble you. But if you think that there are still lunch counters out there that need integrating it ought to give you pause.

However, consider in turn that if you want to read the truth, write it on a wall. If you want to be free, pull the wall down. But make sure it is not a structural member, it is not of historical or architectural interest, you have planning permission to demolish, you have carried out a risk assessment for the demolition, you have consulted widely on this and genuinely believe that a majority of the relevant population are in favour, that the minority who have fears about the demolition have been reassured, and that it has zero carbon impact and that David and Gideon could find a slot in their very busy diaries if there was a suitable photo op. with the common people, there was provision for drinkie-poos afterwards, no press, and………..

Chilly Chilies

It has been a good year for chillies. Herself has grown a range in our extensive greenhouse provision round the back of our baronial pile in this pleasant Suffolk messuage which time has gratefully forgotten.
While they have fierce names and impressive ratings on the Scoville Scale adding them to our dishes raw and cooked has resulted in an increase in flavour and not any great heat! Obviously it has something to do with the humour, airs and graces of the village.
A recent overnight trip had herself in fear for her chillies. She had forgotten to zip up the greenhouse. All is not lost and our chillies did not get too chilly.

A far cry from a story in the Grauniad about a chilli measuring 1,176,182 on the Scoville Scale.

Evil, pure evil.

Just heard news that pope on the grope was last seen heading to Holyrood with a tartan scarf round his neck.

Could almost forgive him the Hitler Youth thing, the covering up child abuse for the greater glory of god and the Catholic Church, condemning a large section of the world to poverty and exploitation because he refuses to accept that they should have access to contraception, the fact that HIV infection will progress and deaths from AIDs will increase because simple prevention, condoms, is denied to believers -

BUT A BAY CITY ROLLERS FAN

AAAARGH!

Watering Workers Beer

The decision has been taken to scrap the £3.3m Community-Owned Pubs Support Programme

I am the man, the very fat man, who waters the workers' beer.
I am the man, the jolly fat man, who waters the workers' beer.
What do I care if it makes them ill; if it makes them terrible queer!
I've a car, a yacht, an airoplane from watering workers' beer.

Or words to that effect.
What would you think of the man, the terrible fat man who took the beer out of the workers and peasants hands. That's what he is about to do for some communities.
Shame! I hear you cry.
What can you expect from the man, the oleaginous fat man, who destroys the Audit Commission with the stoke of his pen!

Eric von Pickles has always struck me as a throwback to the days of the Ragged Trousered Philanthropist. Possibly to those interminable B Movies of my yoof about brave RAF guys escaping from a hell hole of a prison camp run by, you've guessed it, a chubby and totally evil Gauliter played by Eric von Pickles.

"For you Tommy the war is over. Have some beer, it is warm as you English like it; I leave you to guess why!"

However, help is at hand, not for the films, mercifully they all sank without trace.
As Social Enterprise reports:-

Co-ops step in to support community pubs.

Good guys!

An island not much visited

According to Boswell, Dr Johnson reported this after his visit courtesy of the wind and waves. This is a good thing for the few who find lodging on it and are able to enjoy the views, beaches, flora and fauna in relative peace.

Much restored after a week here, battered by beauty and the wind (but not rain) we return with glorious colour worthy of a tropical sun, at least from the scarf up!

Goodwill Bunting!

We had a meeting today in our village hall.
For some time we have been trying to get affordable housing to buy or rent for local families.
There are so many people out there who know the score and are trying so hard to make it happen. It would bring tears to the eyes of a stone needle!
However, there are those who do not want it to happen for a variety of reasons! NIMBY being one.

It begs the question when it will not be in their backyard and the only real objection is the colour of the brickwork that will be employed.

A number of ideas/phrases surfaced during the course of the afternoon.
The first was that you can not have a good public meeting without bunting, obviously goodwill bunting. Herself admitted, under duress, that she had colluded with the man in the Town Hall in Hackney to secure bunting whenever there was a public gathering at the heath centre, often it was tatty bunting.

Later through the haze of the evening meal it was reported that one of the nieces had been appointed as the Curator of Yurts.

Maybe we should get a few yurts, plonk them on the village green and have a festival of Mongolian Throat Singing. Now that would stick in the craw of the the bad guys!

Felbrigg

And so to Felbrigg!
Our journey was set about by ambulances, police cars and helicopters.
Arrival at the hall was soothed by a walled garden. I am very partial to a walled garden.
There were many beautiful flowers, nigella, or love-in-a-mist, being one of them.


I think we may return!

Debenham

We travelled to The Mid Suffolk Village of Debenham for our August perambulation.
It is described as “unspoiled without being a showcase” and well worth a visit but might provide more interest on a working day! The building that caught my eye, grand but not very beautiful, was the former Chapel of the Ancient Order of Foresters. It was built in 1905 but is of significance as it was the local branch or lodge of a Friendly Society formed in 1834. The society which, is still in existence, provides its 70,000 members with insurance policies against sickness and death; an example of the small society?

Forward to the Horse

I have been riding this particular donkey(buddhistpizza - the blog!) for some years now. It was with considerable alarm that I read on my Grauniad website the claims that the poor beast was dying on it's feet. With my girth, you might unkindly comment, that is not surprising!

Cory Doctorow links a report from The Economist on the Death of Blogging.

A report last month in the Economist tells us that "blogging is dying" as more and more bloggers abandon the form for its cousins: the tweet, the Facebook Wall, the Digg.

Do a search-and-replace on "blog" and you could rewrite the coverage as evidence of the death of television, novels, short stories, poetry, live theatre, musicals, or any of the hundreds of the other media that went from breathless ascendancy to merely another tile in the mosaic.

Of course, none of those media are dead, and neither is blogging. Instead, what's happened is that they've been succeeded by new forms that share some of their characteristics, and these new forms have peeled away all the stories that suit them best.

Have I played Sancho Panza too many times to Hidalgos on their Rocinantes?
Forward to the horse!

Passion

Regular readers who are looking for confessions from your correspondent about being overwhelmed by the hots for some floozy will be disappointed.
We spent a relaxed few days in the garden with the company of family and friends and the blessings of good weather, simple food and some drink. The weekend was rounded off at a concert by Fugata. You can read about them here. The music and the playing were summed up in one word for me, passion.

We pootered home and caught the news that Spain had won the World Cup of Football. No doubt from the pictures of fans in Madrid that they were rather pleased with the result.

Pleasure at 25p a foot!

A village walk, a good lunch, and on a sunny Sunday afternoon the proximity of the beach beckoned. We arrived at the car park and, because it was after 4pm, we were only charged £1.
What else can you get for that? We headed hot foot for the sea. Rolling up trouser legs to a demure height below the knee we immersed the lower appendages in the brine. The tide appeared to go out but it could just have been evaporation.

We stood and reveled in the pleasure of it. Since there were two of us and we were both bipedal our delight worked out at 25p a foot!

Who do the Palistinians Support?

A very nice little article in Open Democracy about the reach of the World Cup of Football.
Who do they support in Ramallah? Read all about it here.

Like the author, Khaled Hroub, I too

... would love to have seen, the ultimate surrealism of watching the games projected live onto the “separation wall” in Bethlehem. Al-Jazeera and other media report the wall’s use as a huge screen draws massive and cheerful crowds from the city and its refugee camps. This is something really exciting: conflated resistance and cynicism are precariously interwoven in one big transcending act that allows the besieged Palestinians to set themselves virtually free and go global.

When is a separation wall not a wall? When it is a window on the world!

The Rapacious Coalition Forces

So there I was. Left home at 10 past sparrowfart, caught the train at sp.41, even though the display at the local station said , and headed for the great Wen!.
I thought, coffee, sniffed my way to a dealer and nearly tripped over St Vincent de Cable. Having made the deal and slumped into a corner to savour my hit who should pass before my eyes but Ian Drunken Smith! He was attended to in much the same way as the owner of a small yappie dog by a civil servant. What did they put in that Americano?
They were going to have a Cabinet Meeting OOp North. Why? You are going to shaft the livelihoods and family fortunes of milliones de paisanos why should you give a f**k where you do it?

Interesting though.
You can organise, as a certain Mr J. Hill mentioned.
Just say;- take your nasty rapacious capitalist hands of ma assets.
Ma community owns them and you must not touch them!

http://www.newstartmag.co.uk/files/bid.pdf

Probably what we need to know and why !

John Naughton is promising a new book about Tinternet!
Some stuff is here in Th'Observer.

You could read it to take your mind off upcoming events in the World Cup of Football.

The End Times!

I've just finished reading Irrationality by Stuart Sutherland.
Counsels of perfection, of course, but we would all like to think there was room for improvement.

Then I saw this in Bong Bong.

Do these guys have the inside skinny on something?

I find myself glancing skyward more frequently now, nervously scanning for PCOs
(Porcine Flying Objects since you may not be a regular reader)

Ties that bind us together!

Oh this did strike a chord, or cord.
Once upon a time, long, long ago my life used to depend on this.
How to tie a bowline!

The bunny goes out the hole and round the tree and down the hole again.
Finish with a half hitch. Jesus, to think we used to hang on these things.
A waistband of hemp and all the good things of life!

And now a big boy who did these things so much better.
Gaston!

Conspiracy! What Conspiracy?

At the back of the Baramara, a tacky club in Sitges, it is very dark, dingy and very, very quiet.
This may be due to the judicial police squad with enough firepower to blow away a small Mexican drug cartel. It could be the large men in undersized shirts and jackets with various bits of electronic equipment in their ears. It could be the bulges in their clothes in places which even the clientele of the Baramara would find strange. Or it could be that such watering holes are not what they used to be and have to tart themselves on the market for whatever they can get!

In the gloom, if you could be there, you would see the figure of
Kissinger, Henry A. - Chairman, Kissinger Associates, Inc.
radiating sufficient gravity to cause a perturbation in Einstein's calculations. He is muttering incoherently in a signature gravelly voice to his most attentive audience, himself.

A man approaches. Apart from the adjustment in the massed cohorts and weaponry all is well! He is in his fifties, but looks good, has grey and black hair swept back. He has a mischievous smile playing round the corners of his eyes and his mouth.

Enry, viejo perro, como se saja? Madre de puta, estas bien?

Speek en Englesh pleese, for the tape!

Ho K Enry, whatever you say, conejotito!
The reason I drag you out of the Bilderbergs is I want to ask you a question.
Dit you put the pressure on the Espanish Supremes to have me fired so you can come to Sitges? There, I seddit.

Henry descends into a monologue which is inaudible and unintelligible but sounds like a cement mixer with a bad dose of indigestion. The youngish guy says that he will take that as a yes then.
He reminds him he is off to the Hague and that it might be a bit premature to plan any Christmas shopping in Madrid or Paris!

The various forces pack up the sub-nuclear arsenal attendant on each and sweep up behind their charges. Some of them head for a better class of bar!

Long time ago.

I'm not sure why I should remember this now but it is a clear recollection.
In the back entry's of the classic Salford slum I sat transfixed watching a mate's Dad line up match sticks in the dirt between the flags in their back yard.

He then took out his kukri applied a steel or stone to the edge and sliced through the matches.
They didn't collapse, or burn, or fall over. He didn't treat us like admiring idiots, although we were.

He parked his fag in the corner of his mouth and explained how it was his weapon in the last war and he had been shown how to use it by the Gurkhas. It kept him alive and that was important for him and his family!

We carried on with the daily round of football, cricket, school, rounders(included girls) and getting the ball back from the the backyard of Mrs Humphries the eyeball scratcher, shudder!

Life! Ojala!

I may be going gaga but...

I had occasion to visit the British Library this week.
Little did I know that deep in the bowels this sort of thing was going on.
Still, I have a great weakness for librarians and their work as regular readers know.
I know life is short and there are many important things to do but take 4:23 out of a wet bank holiday to enjoy this and think of the good guys and gals down at your local, library, and don't forget the databases.
Thanks to Bong Bong for the link and understanding about librarians!

Gideon's People

Article by George Monbiot published in the Grauniad and on his website.

People of my social background (upper middle class, public school) dominate every economic sector except those - such as sport and hard science - in which only raw ability counts. Through networking, confidence, unpaid internships, most importantly through our attendance at the top universities, we run the media, politics, the civil service, the arts, the City, law, medicine, big business, the armed forces, even, in many cases, the protest movements challenging these powers. The Milburn report, published last year, shows that 45% of top civil servants, 53% of top journalists, 32% of MPs, 70% of finance directors and 75% of judges come from the 7% of the population who went to private schools (6). Even the beneficiaries should be able to see that this system is grotesque, invidious and socially destructive. (6. The Panel on Fair Access to the Professions, 2009.Unleashing Aspiration. Figure 1f, p18.
http://www.cabinetoffice.gov.uk/media/227102/fair-access.pdf)

I'm not sure his solution would work even if you could prevail upon the universities to adopt such a selection process though the idea of screwing, at a stroke, the ability of the pluted bloatocrats to purchase advantages for their saucepans at the very real disadvantage of others would be welcome.

And now a link for Gideon. See what you missed, poor wee thing!
And of course the common people and their place in the great order of things

Fibet will be tree!

A thought from Bong Bong. What have those guys been smokin' now!
Still, freedom seems to be in short supply around and about.
Poor old Mr Vanunu is headed back to the slammer, read all about it in the Grauniad.
His particular crime involves meeting his girlfriend. What a bummer!
So when you celebrate your Amnes Tea on 28 May, raise a cup of chai for Mordechai and don't forget the yak butter. Go on, go on, go on!

Things change and the whole world is turned upside down.

I want to be free!

Free beer!
Free love!
Free Nelson Mandela with every 10 gallons (sorry 50 litres)!
Interesting meditation on the sloppy thought that

Information wants to be free (IWTBF)

by Cory Doctorow in the Grauniad

It's time for IWTBF to die because it's become the easiest, laziest straw man for Hollywood's authoritarian bullies to throw up as a justification for the monotonic increase of surveillance, control, and censorship in our networks and tools. I can imagine them saying: "These people only want network freedom because they believe that 'information wants to be free'. They pretend to be concerned about freedom, but the only 'free' they care about is 'free of charge.'"

Oh no they don't!

They want open access to the data and media produced at public expense, because this makes better science, better knowledge, and better culture – and because they already paid for it with their tax and licence fees.

Amen. Here endeth the first sermon, and while you're at it where is that free beverage and the dancing girls!

Lady of the Camellias.

So, two thoughts to be going on with.
A camellia, cut down in its prime but not by me, phew!
Herself, once again, came to my rescue.
Things I have learned after the event:-
A nosebleed from one nostril is possibly just a nosebleed.
If it is from 2 nostrils and lasts more than an hour you should go to A&E; probably half an hour ago!

I'm an NHS baby; god bless the NHS and all who sail in her!

Gracias a la vida que me he dado tanto!

And then there were...

One last heave and we're there.
You get at the back Peter and push him.
What's that wee numpty doing on the box?
I thought he was north of the border sh*%%^ng sheep.
What about the rainbow? What about ginger?
Oh F*%k! Here comes the dark Mountain.
Bugger this.

Step out, approach microphone, on my right, not too close...
It has been a privilege...
Not the trappings of power but the power to change...
All my fault...
Tremble lip, catch in voice, glance to right, christ better move on quick...
Get the kids, I'm off to see Brenda.

Walk up the street...
What number was it, 10?
Yes I know it's a bit small, but the weekend drum is ok-ish...
Approach microphone, yes on my left, back a bit, lots of space give em the Dark Madonna...
Strong government...
National interest...
Hard work...
Rebuilding family...
Crisis...
Honest...
Back to door, see that, 10
Cuddle, peck, not too much...
Open the door...
Gus! I'm home....

To rephrase a certain Mr Wislon...
Thirteen years of Tory misrule and we never won the World cup of Football once.
What a waste!

Master of the Dark Arts

I would not want anyone to think that I approve but this YouTube video shows what a master of the dark arts Alastair Campbell is. Appearing entirely reasonable he manages to get Adam Boulton to loose it. As much as a gelded sausage dog with false teeth in hock and chained to his lord and master can loose it, or that you would even notice.

Interesting times; oh what fun!

The Day Tomorrow

Off to the urns tomorrow!

And Giordano Bruno shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that casts his vote with me
Shall be my brother.

Ah but which way? Just vote, you numpty, just vote; it's a start.
If you feel you have had enough I suggest Johann Sebastian Mighty Bach might lift your spirit and the video might convince you that things are not too bad after all, mustn't grumble!

Let no one believe that there are not evil men out there.

Men who believe we should waterboard the political wing of the NHS en masse.
There are creatures who have enriched themselves with the blood of lambs, allegedly,
and much, much worse.

Democracy, you canna wack it laddy.

Delay! The Thief of Accountability.

It may have escaped your notice in the fever surrounding the news cycle on both sides of the pond that Buddhist Pizza Inc. has been subject to a certain amount of investigation, in open session, by governmental committee. As a Global Non-Profit tasked with general philanthropy and alleviating poverty and suffering in the highest earning 1% of the population we are totally transparent and operate to the highest ethical and moral standards. We do not fear detailed questions, we do not reject scrutiny, we welcome intelligent and informed interrogation.

However, under god and the (unwritten) constitution we exercise our democratic right to delay, and have prepared accordingly.

Excuse me, I have to go and watch hell freeze over.

Many thanks to the daily dose for the link, and the daily dose.

Sluts and gonifs

I have to confess that I did not know what a gonif was. Susan McCarthy helpfully, provides a link in her blog commenting on the moral failings, allegedly, of dinosaurs.

Well no one is perfect. I have been known to indulge in Vin Santo myself and give voice but sluts, gonifs and divine retribution?

Three Blind Mice

Less than ten days before the whole sorry mess is subject to the will of the people. There seems little point in adding to the tons of stuff out there but if you have one of these bloggy things and are true netizen of tinterweb it seems a shame not to share.

El Cameron seems to be slightly bemused as to why his obvious breeding and wealth and the manifest failure of his so called opponents have left him looking like the kid who insists it is his turn and you have to give him the bicycle now!

Giordano Bruno is still slugging it out after all these years. The boxer who never fails to get up on the count of eight. Get me the Balham Basher, Peter. I’m sure I can still beat the Balham Basher. But you are the Balham Basher!

The Cleggster or is it the Cleggstar! Haven’t we been here before, 1997?

I have to confess to using the Beeb’s seat calculator with the latest polls to see the likely outcome. You can also put a decent margin for polling error in and the whole thing has an oracular and soothing effect on a fevered brow.

What a relief, chaos and anarchy, it’s official.

Manos Limpias

Thoughtful piece by Giles Tremlett in Th'Observer today about Baltasar Garzon.
You may have heard of him because of his attempt to extradite the slightly chilly General Peanuckle. However he goes back much further than that.
It is interesting that he effectively brought down the controversial socialist government of Felipe Gonzalez, which was mired in Caso Gal, with allegations of corruption and a dirty war against ETA. Felipe, a much underrated character in my view, hits the sweet spot as usual and is quoted in response to an attempt by the supreme court to dismiss the judge ...

"I don't have a very special relationship with this man, but what they are doing is inexplicable and unjust."

So to sum up..

Judge Battasar Garzon

Fought crimes long gone.

The Spanish Supremes

Said only in your dreams.

What we did on our Brithday (63 in a series)

The weather was kind for my sixty third to heaven.
We took ourselves off to the coast and there after a spot of lunch inspected the Navy, much reduced now we are in a period of austerity...
We had a brief artistic interlude where we inspected the front and rear of old Babs...




Then off to the seaside and a good time was had by all. Gracias a la vida.

Not Canadian Enough

Nice little story via the Grauniad Newsbucket.
Open Data not only good like Mom and Apple Pie but also saves money.
It is alleged that 3.2 billion dollars was being illegally sheltered from the revenue in Canada.
The use of open data meant that this was exposed and the abusive activity closed down.
One question; that would pay for an awful lot of red jackets, big hats and horses, wouldn't it? I suppose you do have to buy oats for the horses, hmmm...

Is the Pope a Catholic?

Even though I handed in my papers many years ago I still enjoy seeing a lump or two knocked out of the old theocracy.

Steven Fry makes a very good case for disbanding the old firm and sending it out there to do something worthwhile. It will have a hard time making up for all that evil!

Thanks to John Naughton and his contributors for the link in his blog.

Posh Toffs

So Ian Jack had this article in the Gauniad today, whinging on about the Toffs, and the schools, and Eaton. God, you think he could find something better to do!

He accuses Sir George Young of going to Eaton. Na na Na na na; is what I say.

I saw the Right on Bart earlier in the week, on the telle and I thought to myself, yes, this is tomorrow's man. God he could have your goolies, your liver and your lights off you before you even noticed the difference, and you would say thank you. Lovely chap! Such silky elegance in the face of Paxoid or some other dull, grey Grammar School Slouch. Such charm, such understated wit!

I don't know what his Mare and Pare paid for the sod to be educated at Eton but worth every sov! Today, to educate the old duckling between the ages of 11 and 18 would only set you back about 200k sovs without allowing for the inflation, worth every penny!

Da Liddel Guy

Not to demean old Simon Singh, his height, or even to suggest that he is any age at all, compared to myself, a spring chicken I'm sure. However, if there are any of you out there, double figures at the last count, and you have not already done so please sign the petition at the Libel Reform Campaign site. Go on, go on, go on!

There that didn't hurt did it and those very brave souls who risk their time, sanity and home to hold up some semblance of rationality in this crazy world deserve a wee bit of support.

Sermon over. Now phwat was I saying about that nice Mr Murdoch.

To think it could be so!

Hmm!
Another cracker from Susan McCarthy

And a nice flower

for Easter.

Life is never simple!

So Memex has a nice post. Yes you would want Myriad Genetics to have its socks rot on their dainty corporate feet, even as we speak. So hats off to the lads and lassies at the ACLU for digging in on this one. I have had differences of opinion with them on some things, including the decision about Skokie Illinois.

That is the nature of democracy, of course.

Talking about life, DNA and all that business. No further on with the synthesis of the chemicals or even precursor chemicals for life? Come on there sharpen up. Forget about the old Large Hardon Colander. Bugger the Higgs Boson! We all want to know where life comes from, so to speak.

Up to a Point Lord Co-oper

Aaaahhh!
The sound of a civil society; peace, harmony, and cooperation.
Yes Geoff, they are all jumping on the wagon with the non-hierarchical music collective on the back. Geoff Mulgan blogs in the Grauniad about the recent change in attitudes across the political spectrum towards social enterprise and the publication by the Carnegie UK Trust of a Report, Making Good Society, into the future of civil society. I'm sure I'll have some thoughts when I've read it but (that little word, three letters, and it gets me into so much trouble) I have some thoughts of my own.

It's good to see Dirty Dave and Fuzzy Osborne launching themselves at the back of the collective bandwagon. Welcome aboard. The Coop, that bastion of, well, the Coop, has opened the silos, a little, and there has been some movement. Not perhaps as much a we would like or with the self awareness that we would want, still mustn't grumble. According to my slightly bemused reading we are about to be overwhelmed by a Tsunami of Social Enterprise which will wipe away all ills and inequalities and heal our poor, broken, divided society. Er, perhaps not. I can see a lot of jobs for those aparatchicks, 'merchant bankers' and ere do wells who are thrown out on their ears in the not too distant socially enterprising future.

As a volunteer, I am often p'd off in some useless meeting. Notionally, it is meant to advance the causes near to my altruistic heart, making the world a better, more equal, and less violently hate filled place for me to live in. To fuel my inner devil I play count the cash. How much are people payed to attend this meeting for its duration, including travel, expenses, and organisation on costs. Oh give me the money Barney because I know a little mutual enterprise that creates jobs, gives people support in their endeavours to build their lives in the way that they want, provides homes that are affordable to rent and hangs on to community assets that would be given away to private enterprise at knockdown, fire sale, prices!

Naar, you don't want to do that, might make the world a better place for me to live in!

My Left Foot

Sad but inevitable.
Michael Foot was derided by many during his life and now
'he's dead, dead and never called me muver'
The bastards are saying he was the best thing since, consecrated, sliced bread!
Even Lady Dagenham had 'kind' words to say. I wonder who put them in her mouth?

When the wind blows the grass bends

Hang on to your hats this is going to be a wild ride.

Giordano Bruno, the man (no relation to G. Broon Esq.) his picture below, I am sorry about the cheap lighting effects.
He suffered a long drawn out trial and torture and death at the stake, which took place on 17 February 1600 in the Campo dei Fiori in Rome. (still no relation to G. Broon Esq.) Alas; it was for, amongst other things, believing that the earth rotates about the sun in a manner of speaking, relatively. (Enough wriggle room there to keep the old Inquisition off my trail!)

So we have left all that kind of torture and human rights abuses behind us? Wrong!

Blair, Broon, Straw and the lot of them can equivocate till the cows come home; and they will. They have been accused of complicity (or stupidity) in the use of torture by that well know group of hate filled pinkos, the judiciary.

The point of my tale, if you still have your hats on, is contained in this report from Open Democracy by Roberta Bacic, concerning the abuses in Chile in the not too distant past and the almost unbelievable courage of those who spoke out against it. The importance of speaking truth to power and using such things as arpilleras.

The first requirement to fight injustice is to report it; otherwise we are accomplices.

God, I don’t know what I would do if I was threatened with all sorts of stuff to recant, give away secrets or just conform. I do make a point of sitting down during the national anthem on the few occasions when it is played. Well it’s never going to be my national anthem!

Here’s to the brave buggers who did a wee bit more!

The Toffs ATM

So then Lord Cashcough!

Dave's mum said that you don't have a domicile.
It's sad really because you seem to have so much money, give so much of it away and yet you don't have a home of your own. Charity begins at home, so they say.

I'm sure the Turnip Taliban hereabouts would be able to find a house for you. Many of them have more than one of their own!

When in Rome Frankie!

Occasionally life throws up contrasts.
In a street in Rome recently I noticed a shop selling smart dresses and such. Not the sort of thing that would catch my eye apart from the name. Pinko.


Directly opposite there is a plaque on the wall!

Sore Throats

Good morning!
Please turn to page 92?
I may have mentioned San Blas or St Blaise once or twice before in these lectures.
The devout among you will have noticed that Wednesday this week was the feast day of the holy man, himself.

He is the patron saint of sore throats plus a few other things. Well, after martyrdom you need some interests as, in the left footer's version of heaven, there are no virgins made available.
Your man St Blaise makes a bob or two responding to prayers concerning the throat. Was he an ENT specialist, I hear you ask? Well no, I think his main qualification for the job was the fact that he had his head cut off, and like King Louis XIV, it spoiled his constitution. However, it did give him a unique insight into maintaining health and integrity in the region between the head and shoulders!

He was, allegedly, Armenian but has a great following in the north of Spain, Campoo, where we lived for a while. I do not think the Campurrianos have weak throats but I do know there is a tradition the storks appear and start building their nests on San Blas. We have seen them and therefore it must be true.


If you don't believe me have a look! They are ungainly, ponderous, inefficient, build their nests out of the most unsuitable sticks in the most ridiculous places and look complete arses while they do it. You can't help feeling a little stab of joy when, eventually, you see the head of the young stork appear above the edge of the nest.



Thank you.
Next weeks lecture will be on the importance of the
South Waziristan Institute of Strategic Hermeneutics (SWISH) in the development of interfaith hegemony and security in the tribal areas.

Wee Boots

Amazing what you can find in a house after 50 years.

Genes

I listened to Start the Week with Andrew Marr this morning. His guests included Steve, my job is to make sex boring, Jones the geneticist. Steve covers the usual ground of how the popular and misconceived view of genes is that they are specific indicators of everything from being shy and retiring to a proclivity for genocide and mass murder. I may exaggerate, but not much.
"In fact", says Steve and in my minds eye I can see a devilish twinkle in his, "they have found the one that makes your ears stick out!" or words to that effect. To give him his due, a true professional, Andy the wing nut only hesitated a demi-semi-quaver before moving on!

Hard Times

One of the songs that popped up around the McGarrigles offerings on UTube was Hard Times, hard times indeed for their family.

I got to thinking about our times. We are about to have a general election (not the 6th of May, Shirley!!!). We think things are bad now, for many of us they are not. In the hard times to come, courtesy of the dreadful Dave and his mates, things will be bad. The little people, the underclass, the people who never saw employment in the Blair/Broon years, yes they are going to be screwed. They were screwed before and Dave, the caring, sharing, compassionate Dave, is happy to see them screwed again! However, the problems we face in the economy, the environment, in the fabric and security of our society, mean that many of us, significant numbers, will be screwed regardless.

Hard times; you ain't seen nothing yet!

Sad

Kate McGarrigle died this week. There is a lovely picture on the McGarrigle's website at the moment.
If that's not enough try this.

Makers and Hackers

I've been reading a bit of Sci Fi including Makers by Cory Doctorow.
Interesting little noodle. Imagine if you made a machine that was a 3D printer eventually the printer would be able to print a copy of itself!

It would, amongst other things, need to run on some pretty amazing gloop.

Then I saw this - Sugru.
It's not (just) that I am a sucker for Irish lasses with enthusiasm and the kind of accent that would make a straight archbishop kick a hole in a stained glass window but I do like the idea of making and mending. Hacking, I believe it is now called. I hope the gloop does not frighten the horses or give wee birds the vapours and cost an arm and a rain forest to produce.
Amen.

Another little cracker

God knows where I picked up the recommendation; glad I did and glad the Library wallahs delivered the reservation in double quick time.
Short and not very sweet, Peace by Richard Bausch. Maybe not your cup of tea; death, deceit and humanity on the slopes of Monte Casino, go on, go on, go on, have a cup!

The sins of the leaders

So Dave you have been caught interfering with the muesli again.

A rare phrase from Polly Toynbee in the Grauniad:-

Cameron is a serial abuser of social research.

As evidence M'lud she offers

In his recent Hugo Young lecture on poverty, Cameron badly misused the ground-breaking work of Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett in The Spirit Level. He acknowledged their incontrovertible proof that "the more unequal countries do worse according to every quality of life indicator", but in the next breath he ignored the very foundation of their work when he said: "That doesn't mean we should be fixated only by a mechanistic objective like reducing the Gini coefficient" – the measurement of the inequality that causes social dysfunction, crime, drugs, drink and all the social evils that put Britain near the bottom of the league for civility. But no one could be a Conservative and want to narrow the gap between top and bottom. Instead Cameron said he would seek to "focus on the gap between the bottom and the middle". Leaving the rich untouched is, of course, exactly what his inheritance tax plans do.

I rest my case and for god's sake man, take your hand out of the muesli jar!

Yes... we can!

So, then, Mr O'Bama.
Not much new under the sun.


I guess we are all as Canadian as possible under the circumstances!
There is a link here.

The Terrors of the Night

The Grauniad had a profile of Tony Judt.
This was presented on the same page as Night, an essay by him. In it he outlines his thoughts about the time when most of us fall into blissful sleep. He has a very different perspective of the night and the terrors large and small which he copes with; he suffers from a motor neurone disorder .

I was interested and intrigued and looked up an adaptation of a lecture given at New York University on October 19, 2009 which is to be found at this link from the New York Review of Books; Volume 56, Number 20 · December 17, 2009.
What Is Living and What Is Dead in Social Democracy?

The article, a plea not to abandon the benefits of the collective provision by government, concludes with the following:

A social democracy of fear is something to fight for. To abandon the labors of a century is to betray those who came before us as well as generations yet to come. It would be pleasing—but misleading—to report that social democracy, or something like it, represents the future that we would paint for ourselves in an ideal world. It does not even represent the ideal past. But among the options available to us in the present, it is better than anything else to hand. In Orwell's words, reflecting in Homage to Catalonia upon his recent experiences in revolutionary Barcelona:

There was much in it that I did not understand, in some ways I did not even like it, but I recognized it immediately as a state of affairs worth fighting for.

I believe this to be no less true of whatever we can retrieve from the twentieth-century memory of social democracy.

I share the fear that we can so easily dismantle and forget the importance of the collective.
Nevertheless, I believe there are many of us that keep tapping away at the process of creating the commons and demonstrating its benefits.
Good Stuff!