Once more onto the beach

In the bleak mid-winter, we moan. And the travel brochures show us pictures of warm beaches: so like the Eloi we obediently troop into the shop and book a holiday in the sand. It was boring last year and the year before that, but somehow that fact escapes us.

On the other hand, a few years ago I went to Ravenna for a short holiday. No, I hadn’t heard of it either. It is separated from the coast – and therefore from tourist fame – only by a few miles, but I didn’t go there for a bus ride to the beach. I went with my wife to see a performance by her favourite dancer, Sylvie Guillem.

But we did some homework, and booked a few days there. Ravenna is full of the most amazing 5^th and 6^th century mosaics. They are contained in churches, baptisteries and a mausoleum, which are attractive in themselves: but the mosaics are jaw-dropping. There are eight World Heritage sites – seven within a half-mile radius, I would guess, and one a couple of miles further.

(The dancer was excellent, too.)

I was reminded of this by a recent article by David Thomas in The Independent. He went to Birmingham because his wife wanted to see Take That. And he too was surprised at what he found there. I hope this link works: http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/david-thomas-birminghams-a-great-place-for-romance-6287052.html?origin=internalSearch

As David Thomas says, Birmingham is not the first name on most people’s must-see holiday destinations list. That’s understandable. Despite the seagulls above the (beautifully renovated) canals, Birmingham is almost as far from the sea as England gets. But he evidently enjoyed it.

(He also liked the concert.)

Our two trips were made under a similar pretext, and with a similar result. Perhaps we chaps need to listen when our wives demand a trip somewhere unexpected to see a favourite performer. Perhaps there is a sort of protective holiday angel, or a patron saint of husbands who accompany their wives to distant gigs. (Ferry godmother?)

By the way, what is it about sand that obsesses us? Vienna is stuffed full of palaces, museums and that funny wheel thing Harry Lime rode on in The Third Man. But it is a long way from the beach (a lot further than Birmingham), and so is treated by the holiday industry as a fringe destination. When I first flew there, the ticket said London to Vienna to Void: as if Vienna really were halfway to nowhere. (I got off in Vienna.)

Whereas Las Vegas has vast quantities of sand: but I wouldn’t go there if you paid me. Unless, of course, I went to see Rita Rudner – a brilliant comedienne, who I’m told only performs in Vegas these days. Trouble is, she’s not my wife’s favourite, but mine. So perhaps the trip would fall outside the holiday angel’s remit: and perhaps we’d find that Vegas – for all its undeniable proximity to sand – is in fact loud, bright and boring.

Hitting a moving target

The government proposes to increase the national speed limit from 70mph to 80mph. The Institute of Advanced Motorists are rubbing their hands (for example) at the prospect, although I’d really rather they had both hands on the wheel. The argument goes: people already drive at 80mph, so we may as well make it legal.

This is a strange argument on many levels. In the first place, we have the idea that what (some) people do is by definition blameless, and should not be limited in the first place. As a view of human nature, this is delusional. As a view of what government is there for, it is almost American.

Shall we legalise theft of office stationery? Phone tapping? Tax avoidance? Throwing rocks at fire engines?

Then we have the idea that, where people’s actions differ from the law, it is the law that is in the wrong. This is utterly strange. There is an old puzzle about a gun which always fires to the right of the target. You could hammer the barrel (not recommended) or adjust the sights – but which way?

I can’t remember the “official” answer: but the IAM have a simpler solution. You move the target. The trouble is, when you now take aim, you end up firing even further to the right.

I was in Spain in the early 1980s and was struck by how many young people would fall out of bars asking each other for “chocolate” – which I finally figured out meant marijuana. But they didn’t seem to be unconscious, and they didn’t appear to be fighting. I was told that all drugs were illegal, but the police turned a blind eye to “soft” drug use, while coming down like a (metric) ton of bricks on hard drugs. The kids got to rebel within (fairly) safe limits, and the problem was at least contained.

Not long after that, someone said: the kids are doing cannabis, we may as well make it legal.

So they did, and within a short time the kids moved onto hard drugs.

The law has to allow a safety margin. If people respond to the current limit by driving at 80, why should we not think they will respond to an 80mph limit by driving at 90 or 100? We are asked to believe that these drivers are naturally careful and scrupulously law-abiding: but that the target is simply wrongly positioned, and if the limit were 80, they would stick to it.

Tell you what, shall we lower the age of consent to 12? After all, plenty of 12-year-olds are already doing it. It’s easy to foresee that men will then be arrested for sex with a 9-year-old and will say: “I thought she was 12.” But that's probably not a fair comparison. As the Insititute of Speedophiles will doubtless say, it's different in a car.

Harry Potter and the Search Engine

A recent BBC headline asked: "Why didn't Harry Potter just use Google?" It seems that on one occasion Harry and his friends looked something up in the library (shock, horror). Which of course is a waste of time, especially when you are busy saving the world. 

People quickly wrote in pointing out that Rowling wrote that book before Google existed. But it turns out Harry Potter wasn’t really the focus of the article. He was simply name-dropped to get people reading it. (Good idea. Maybe it’ll work for me, too.) The article commented on the wealth – or rather, the sheer quantity – of information available. How can we know what any of it is worth? (Without asking a librarian, which is apparently cheating.)

For example: Who awarded a doctorate to Gillian McKeith, and on what criteria? Or: which is the more reliable source – Fox News or Al Jazeera?

Of course, the answer to the second question is obvious. George W. Bush is a well-known friend of democracy (Florida 2000 being an unfortunate aberration): and his tanks found it necessary to fire on the offices of Al Jazeera. Therefore Al Jazeera is an enemy of democracy, and cannot be trusted. QED.

But the point is: where someone’s villainy has not been proved in such a clear manner, how do we know who to trust? I am a little alarmed at the idea that schoolchildren (and postgrads and Presidents, come to that) think they can find out all they need to know by Googling it.

I think at least two things are going on. One is that we would like something for nothing. And the other is that we would like it instantly.

In the past, serious study involved serious work. Now, we just borrow someone else’s work (as I have borrowed a BBC headline, but without declaring the fact). We used to look for wisdom as for needles in haystacks: now we pick needles from piles of needles. Better: Google has arranged the needles for us into neat rows. It used to be called plagiarism: now it is called innovative research.

In the same way, this country used to generate wealth by making things. (From materials we had stolen from around the world, granted.) But that takes time. It is quicker to invest in “financial products” – so-called, although nothing is visibly produced. You push a few buttons and hey presto! Nobody produces any goods or any original ideas: we all sponge off each other.

And we are so impatient! Half the charm of cricket used to be its stately pace. Now we invent quicker and quicker versions of it, in a vain attempt to turn it into baseball.

Or again, I read somewhere that goldfish have a short-term memory of 8 seconds. (How do the scientists know this? Perhaps they googled it. Or perhaps they stood with a stopwatch and said to a goldfish: “In 1938, the FA Cup was won by Preston North End. (Pause) … Who won the FA Cup in 1938?” – and the goldfish just opened and closed its mouth.) By comparison, the rapid-fire snippets announcing each X Factor performance last (on average) 3 seconds apiece. The show clearly expects its audience to have half the attention span of a goldfish.

The performers, who seek “instant” fame, have to be a little more patient than that: but it probably grates on them. One contestant was pleased to have given up a serious career in orchestral music for her X Factor shot. I suppose she started to think of the time and effort involved in gaining the expertise required to play the cello to a professional standard. Mind you, these days you can probably google it.

Masks

A few weeks ago BBC news interviewed people in Guy Fawkes masks, based on the one worn by the main character in V for Vendetta (the graphic novel and film). The wearers were part of the Occupy London street protest against economic inequality. They claimed not to support violence: but the interviewer wondered whether hiding their faces would provoke public fear. After all, the original Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament: and the Vendetta character actually did so. In any case, if they have peaceful intent, why were they hiding their faces?

At around the same time, the news carried a story about the French burqa ban. Again, there was a protest. On this occasion a Muslim woman wearing a full-face veil was detained by police. BBC news did not ask whether she was provoking public fear. Instead, she was said to be a “burqa martyr”.

I have to say that this phrase is inappropriate – for two reasons. Firstly, people have been killed for failing to subscribe to someone else’s agenda (whether Christian or Muslim or atheistic). These are martyrs. To use the word of a person facing a 150-euro fine is hysterical, in more senses than one.

Secondly, the French law does not mention burqas - or full-face armour or Ku Klux Klan outfits. Or Guy Fawkes masks, come to that. It is about hiding one’s face in public, and it is about public security. (I have been here before, on a discussion site somewhere.) If I stroll into the bank with my crash helmet hiding my face; if I hover opposite the cashpoint with my hoodie up; if I prance up and down the Falls Road in a balaclava helmet - people are going to worry.

Obviously, hiding one’s face does not prove violent intent. Not everyone in a pointy hood is a Klansman. (Some are Seville penitents.) But in terms of legitimate public concern, there is little difference between one mask and another.

Since then, David Cameron has told us that Britain is a Christian country built on Christian values. He argues that our tolerance of other religions is built on our Christian heritage – as compared with more secular countries (like France, perhaps). He does not pursue a comparison with Muslim regimes. 

However, I cannot help wondering how much Christianity and capitalism have in common. Or whether in fact Christianity has more in common with Islam (which at any rate worships God) than with capitalism (which worships Mammon). Which brings us back to the Occupy London protesters. The Guy Fawkes masks are catchy but are a distraction from the Occupy statement, which includes the following comments:

·         The world’s resources must go towards caring for people and the planet.

·         We call for a positive, sustainable economic system that benefits present and future generations

·         We stand in solidarity with the global oppressed.

These express a concern for “good news to the poor” which sits well with Christianity but is an irrelevance to Capitalism. The protest’s location, between St Paul’s Cathedral and the City of London Corporation, is symbolically appropriate.

Giles Fraser, Canon of St Paul’s, took sides with the protesters, declaring that they occupied a “fault line between God and Mammon”. Wikipedia describes Fraser as having had “special responsibility for contemporary ethics and engagement with the City of London”. This dual role became unsustainable: and, to his credit, he resigned. Let this brave churchman – not a terrorist mask – be the face of the Occupy protest.

Only obeying orders

It is touching to hear that Margaret Thatcher had to be “urged” to abandon Liverpool to economic decay. And astonishing to be told that this was motivated by the desire to maximise help for the North-East. (See www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-16361170 .)

I could hardly have been more surprised if you’d told me that President Botha and Governor Wallace had to be “urged” into apartheid policies – against their own judgment and conscience, and contrary to their deep love and respect for their black fellow-citizens.

We recall the effects of Thatcher's "help" on the North-East and elsewhere, and her mantra: “There is no such thing as society.” And we always saw in this the economics of Cain – “I am not my brother’s keeper.” But now we learn that the cuts, the vindictive closures, the confiscation of hope, were all forced on her by her advisers. The Iron Lady herself, it turns out, had a heart of gold. Bless.

Countdown and out

Eight years ago BBC Birmingham relocated from Pebble Mill to the Mailbox. BBC boss Greg Dyke enthused staff with the benefits of the move, using catchy slogans such as Project Countdown and Making It Happen. It turned out to be the trumpeting of a white elephant.

Pebble Mill had plenty of studios and a nominal rent. The Mailbox has a swanky city-centre location. Sadly, the joys of sharing a wind-tunnel with Harvey Nicks have not compensated for spiralling costs and the loss of studio space. My sources tell me the Beeb has now decided to close BBC Birmingham (who’d have guessed it) and move things to Bristol.

I wrote a piece at the time of the move from Pebble Mill, which a friend proposed to post on a Tolkien fan website. It may be there (I haven’t looked) but it is certainly here.

One Ring

Obi Nobi knocked the scroll out of the flames with his stick.  “You see,” he said, “it cannot be destroyed so easily.” 

He carefully unrolled the parchment, and read out the mystic words which appeared.

“One ring to fax them all, two rings to phone them.”

“But what can it mean?” exclaimed Beebo.

“It’s part of a longer document called Project Countdown,” replied Obi.

“Project Countdown!  It sounds exciting and awesome,” said Beebo, wide-eyed.

“It is,” nodded Obi.  “It is thrusting and innovative.”  And a strange stillness came over the room as the old man, as if in a trance, recited the words:

            Four for the nation’s favourite Aunt;

            Three for her emergence from the Age of Stone;

            Two for Public Service with a nice new slant;

            One for the Dyke Lord on his Dyke Throne -

            In the land of Mailbox where the studios aren’t.

            One ring to fax them all, two rings to phone them,

            One call to axe them all and have the exit shown them,

            In the land of Mailbox where the studios aren’t.

“Gosh,” whispered Beebo, suitably impressed.

“As you so succinctly express it: Gosh,” said Obi Nobi.  “We don’t quite know what it all means, but it is clearly a prophecy of some sort, and we are committed to making it happen.”

“Whatever it is,” said Beebo.

“Whatever it is,” agreed Obi. 

“There’s just one thing - ”  began Beebo hesitantly.

“And what is that?”

“What does the W stand for?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The notice on your door,” explained Beebo.  “It says: Obi W. Nobi.  I’ve always wondered: what does the W stand for?”

“Some things it is better not to ask,” said Obi Nobi.

Ten days to save the Euro

The headline above appeared in yesterday’s newspapers. It makes me think of a James Bond figure arriving as the clock ticks down, and saving the world by shooting the bad guys. (45 minutes to disarm the Weapons of Mass Destruction.) Sadly, this approach may not be helpful on this occasion.

Tory MP Douglas Carswell has said that the break-up of the Euro is inevitable. This may or may not be so. The pros and cons of the Euro (and indeed of the EU and Britain’s participation in it) have long been debated. I am struck, however, by what Carswell said next. 

He said: “Adding debt to countries simply makes them even more impoverished. ... I hope eurozone leaders will begin the process to allow countries to default on their debts.”

This seems reasonable and humane. It is also what the Jubilee Debt Campaign has been saying for 15 years about our dealings with the world’s poorest (and most indebted) nations. If Greece is in a financial pickle, what about Liberia?

(The Jubilee campaign takes its name from a set of commandments in Leviticus. Debts were to be cancelled, slaves set free, and land restored to those who had lost it. These laws reflect a care for the poor which is evident on every page of the Jewish Scriptures, and bear careful reading: by churches claiming to believe the Bible, and by nations claiming the Bible as part of their heritage.)

Countries in the developing world are paying many times more in interest on their debts than they ever receive in “aid”. We are also able to bully them into adopting our favourite economic policies. The debt and the bullying contribute to frustration and instability in regions of the world where we might prefer to see peace. (They also incidentally contribute to starvation.)

And, as we are discovering, the economic policies themselves turn out to be of dubious value.

Let's get our priorities right. Save the Euro, by all means. Yippee. But let's get serious about debt cancellation. I don't often agree with Tory MPs: but it is surely time "to allow countries to default on their debts".