“My faith in airport security has never been the same since I noticed that the man confiscating the shaving foam in my hand luggage (while leaving me with the razor) had the word HATE tatooed on his knuckles.”
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“My faith in airport security has never been the same since I noticed that the man confiscating the shaving foam in my hand luggage (while leaving me with the razor) had the word HATE tatooed on his knuckles.” I went to watch Elizabeth – the Golden Age – as I had mentioned a few weeks back and I was pretty impressed, despite a few jarring notes (Francis Drake barely gets a mention in the defeat of the Spanish Armada, rather like overlooking Nelson at Trafalgar). But the film was overall good entertainment, if not dead-accurate scholarship. One thing stuck in my mind on the way home: the man who played Philip II of Spain was very convincing in the role of a religious maniac, a man swinging between rhapsodies of hatred for Elizabeth and tearful despair. I thought to myself: “This guy looks like a stunt double for the current leader of Iran”. I mean, he really does. Creepy. Just over 20 minutes from the time I am writing this, a quarter of a mile from my flat, people will line up around the Cenotaph, Whitehall, to commemorate the fallen. Wars involving our servicemen and women are being fought as I write. I leave aside for this post whether we should or not be fighting said wars, let us leave that for another time. There are various charities and organisations that people can support to help those who have suffered from their service as well as support the families left bereaved or in serious hardship. My old man was a RAF navigator in the 1950s and he has several old squadron buddies who served in combat and could use a bit of help. So this is the charity I’ll be supporting this year: the Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund. Important data on the meaning of curves and wiggles. The UK authorities issued warnings of a freak rise in water levels in the North Sea yesterday, caused by a combination of tidal/atmospheric forces. There was a fear that flooding along the east coast of the UK – in places like the Norfolk and Suffolk coasts that are familiar to me – could be as bad as in 1953. Fortunately, some of those fears have abated, but not disappeared. The Thames Barrier flood defence has been put up. The warning was made in good time, so hopefully no lives are at risk. The report linked to here makes little mention of what the situation is on the other side of the North Sea, such as in the Netherlands. Odd. Every investor/economic commentator will have their own pet theories of when or if a market is going to hit the wall and the economy slow down. You would have to have been living in the upper reaches of the Amazon not to have realised that the global economic situation is looking dicier than for many months, at least as far as the West is concerned (emerging markets like India are a different story). Well, I wonder whether this story, about a disappointing art auction, is a harbinger. In the late 1980s, art fetched incredible prices: Van Goghs and Monets went for previously unheard of prices. But in the early 1990s the market sank before recovering as the dotcom boom took hold. There is no society in human history that ever suffered because its people became too reasonable. – Sam Harris, rebutting the daft charge that a denial of belief in the afterlife or a supreme being must open the doors to hell on earth. It is hard sometimes for someone who lives in what might be called the “Westminster village” to understand how monumentally boring are all the commentaries in the political press about Which Cabinet Minister is In and Who is the Favoured One of Gordon, etc. In the Daily Telegraph today, Rachel Sylvester ponders the fact that the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Alisdair Darling, is a puppet of Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister. Oh, the horror. To be honest though, much that I despise this government, it seems to show a lack of historical perspective to complain about the sheer dominance of a Prime Minister over Treasury affairs. I have been reading Douglas Hurd’s rather good biography of Sir Robert Peel, the Prime Minister of the mid-19th Century. As premier, Peel delivered budgets himself rather than get his Chancellor to do so. The budgets, which overthrew the Corn Laws – a system of trade tariffs – split the Tories at the time between the old landed gentry (who wanted tariffs) and the ‘Peelites’ (who wanted laissez faire). But Peel was using his old prerogative as ‘First Lord of the Treasury’ as the Prime Minister is known, to take the lead in economic and financial affairs. In the late 1980s, the same happened when Nigel Lawson, the Chancellor of the time, tried and failed to persuade Mrs Thatcher to accede to his demand that Britain join the European exchange rate mechanism (we did eventually join it, and a right disaster that turned out to be). Gordon Brown is guilty of many sins, but leading economic policy is not one of them. The problem is not the personnel, but the policies themselves. None of the major figures in the current government favour a more modest role for the state; everything else, my dears, is pure detail. Good luck, Mr Dodge. Andrew’s recent diagnosis has reminded me – I am 41 – to get a health check done once a year and catch these gremlins early (I have been remarkably lucky with my health, but no point in taking it for granted). What a way to mark Guy Fawke’s night. I started off wanting to cheer this article – an angry denunciation of the rich folk who often back Green causes – but I then began to wonder whether I was falling for what amounts to an ad hominem argument, and felt rather ashamed of myself. To be sure, it is true that many greenies are extremely well off, or comfortable members of a middle class that feels guilty about material wealth – the legacy of all kinds of crap cultural and political ideas – but is it really a killer argument that a cause X or Y is backed by rich folk like Zac Goldsmith or Peter Melchett? What counts in the end is are their ideas right or wrong? For instance, Bjorn Lomborg is a sharp debunker of eco-cant and I think his take on the more extreme forms of greenery is accurate, but what does it matter whether Lomborg is a middle class Danish academic, heir to a massive fortune, or a humble shop worker? There is a broader point here. At the Libertarian Alliance conference last weekend, I could not help reflecting on the many posh, incredibly rich folk who were old fashioned liberals (or Whigs, as they used to be called). The walls of the National Liberal Club – a fine institution – are adorned with wonderful portraits of gentlemen in frock coats and women in elegant dresses, or stern-looking 19th century businessmen and industrialists. One of the benefits of having an independent income is that it gives a group of people time to think about certain issues that cannot be done by someone working long hours for a salary and who has to please a boss; independence of means also can encourage independence of mind. So Brendan O’Neil is wrong on this occasion, although I share his skepticism on green scares 100%. I do not give a monkey’s whether Jonathan Porritt is posh or not; it is his reactionary ideas to roll back the glories of modern industrial civilisation that bother me very much. Whatever happened to getting your head down and doing the damn job? Whatever happened to going bowling in your own time? You want to take some of the crew from work? Well, that’s nice, too. And if a more fruitful professional relationship between a close-knit group of employees is the result, well isn’t that peachy? But really, if we are all big about this, shouldn’t we be able to interact productively without the panacea of fake camaraderie or a day throwing up in a corporate box at the races? Some of the 7/7 bombers went white-water rafting before the event, you know; and what great team players they turned out to be. – Martin Samuel. I have never suffered a “team building” trip away from the office, thank god (my boss has better things to do). I was trying to think of something profound to say but in the end, what the heck……… |
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